Chapter 29: Nightmare Made Real!

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“Clang!”

Biting back the piercing pain that stabbed through the depths of his soul, the Arsonist, Clyde Joshua, slammed shut the heavy iron door and fastened the security bolt.

“Damn spellcaster!”

Gritting his teeth, he cursed as he began stripping off his drenched clothes.

Although today’s torrential rain had been a nuisance, it had also helped conceal his trail far more effectively.

He had even used an additional portion of the expensive Concealment Powder, worth twelve gold pounds.

It was a fine product purchased on the supernatural black market, capable of masking one’s aura far more effectively.

With the downpour and the Concealment Powder together, he believed he had shaken off that damned spellcaster.

After changing into dry clothes, Clyde Joshua collapsed, utterly drained, onto the sofa in the safe house.

“Haah… haah…”

With every breath, pain stabbed through his soul.

The injuries to his body, the exhaustion of his spirit, and the side effects of that potent potion left him drowsy and weak.

In the hazy depths of sleep, Clyde Joshua had a terrifying dream.

In the dream, that dreadful, demon-like man had somehow found his safe house.

The figure standing outside the door performed some strange ritual with a candle.

Then a horrifying scene unfolded before him. He watched himself rise against his will, undo the security bolt, and pull open the iron door.

That terrifying, demon-like spellcaster… had come inside!

At that moment, Clyde Joshua awoke from the nightmare with a start.

“Haah…”

Still shaken, he glanced toward the iron door of the safe house.

Fortunately, it was closed!

It had only been a nightmare. That terrifying man had not followed him.

Slightly reassured, he tried to get up and find something to eat.

But in the next instant, his heart and courage shattered. His body began to tremble, and his face turned deathly pale.

That horrifying nightmare had become reality!

A gigantic silver-white serpent was wrapped tightly around him.

And the demon-like spellcaster was sitting on the sofa opposite him.

He was even holding a finely edited copy of The Rise of the Saintman Empire, reading it with complete concentration.

“Oh? You’re awake!”

Zorn raised his head. A cold smile curved across his lips as he looked at the mafia boss before him.

That faint smile was like a demon’s hand, clenching tightly around Clyde Joshua’s heart and making it difficult for him to breathe.

Zorn closed the book and sat up slightly straighter, looking at the restrained mafia boss, Clyde Joshua.

When the Arsonist, using a ritual to guide the loss of his spirituality, had opened the door, Zorn had used the Evil Spirit’s Authority on him for the second time.

It was a penetrating and profound reshaping, one that damaged the other party’s spiritual defenses.

After all, his opponent was a second-rank Arsonist with an exceptionally wary nature. The effect was present, but not particularly strong.

Now, however, it was possible to use it for a third time.

As Zorn invoked the Evil Spirit’s Authority once more, Clyde Joshua—already under control and barely capable of resisting—found his will to resist weakening considerably on a psychological level.

The third use of the Evil Spirit’s Authority went exceptionally well.

His earlier attempts at stubborn resistance gradually gave way to dejection. Then his face began to stiffen, broken by faint, unconscious twitches.

Seeing this, Zorn rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Forcibly and deeply reshaping the spirituality of another sequence, altering and distorting the will of their soul—this method was undeniably powerful. Its one drawback was that it could easily lead to a loss of control and mutation.

“Who is your patron?”

Zorn’s question was brief and went straight to the point.

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Clyde Joshua’s body trembled. He twisted his head strangely from side to side, seemingly resisting Zorn’s question.

“Tell me who your patron is. Perhaps I may still give you a chance to survive.”

Zorn tried to weaken the other man’s psychological defenses through words.

People always harbored a measure of wishful thinking.

Sure enough, after hearing Zorn’s words, Clyde Joshua spoke in a coarse, hoarse voice.

“It is… Viscount Brinn!”

Viscount Brinn?

With this crucial piece of information in place, the web of knowledge in Zorn’s mind instantly cleared a large portion of its fog.

The Homer Mafia was merely the power visible on the surface. Its backer, its protective umbrella—Viscount Brinn—was the true key to the Incident.

Viscount Brinn was a nobleman skilled in smuggling and dealings with secret sects. He possessed considerable wealth and could be considered a nobleman of considerable means.

“Under Viscount Brinn’s protection, what exactly are you primarily smuggling?”

Zorn’s question made Clyde Joshua raise his stiff neck and look at him.

Clearly, Zorn knew far more than he had imagined.

After a moment, Clyde Joshua finally spoke.

“The Blooddel natives from the sea… and the Bloodmarked Coral obtained through sacrifices of marine resources.”

So it was indeed as he had suspected.

At those words, Zorn rubbed the bridge of his nose.

During this period, Zorn had learned that the development of the steam tide had advanced far more rapidly than he had imagined.

Those secret sects had already begun expanding their power on a massive scale in the depths of the ocean.

They had even established a dark commercial chain of profit.

From unregulated regions deep beneath the sea, they obtained natives and spiritually endowed marine creatures for blood sacrifices, acquiring the special sacrificial resource known as Bloodmarked Coral.

They then smuggled it into the inland cities, earning substantial sums in gold pounds. With that money, they continued expanding their influence in the depths of the ocean.

Once those secret sects grew powerful enough, the evil spirits among Zorn’s fellow boss-level entities—those who served the malevolent gods and their secret sects—would grow stronger as well.

They might even turn around and devour Zorn.

And that was precisely what Zorn did not want to see.

“Which secret sect is trading with Viscount Brinn?” Zorn asked again.

This time, the Arsonist Clyde did not hesitate. He shook his head decisively.

“Lord Viscount Brinn always has us place the resources in a warehouse.”

“His people come and take the offerings.”

“I am only responsible for transporting the goods there and ensuring their safety. The rest is not my concern.”

Zorn was not surprised by this answer.

Those organizations were called secret sects for a reason. Naturally, they acted with extreme caution.

The map of Ogran City differed from version to version, so the locations of the sect strongholds were never fixed.

The secret sects cooperating with Viscount Brinn were likewise impossible to determine with certainty. There might even be more than one.

However, Viscount Brinn had used the mafia to seize control of the Grino Dock Hauling Company, seriously damaging Zorn’s interests.

Zorn intended not only to reclaim what belonged to him, but also to make Brinn pay a terrible price—and use the opportunity to strike at those evil-god organizations and suppress his fellow boss-level entities.

Rubbing his fingers together, Zorn lowered his voice.

“You should have collected and stockpiled quite a lot of evidence of Viscount Brinn’s crimes, haven’t you?”

The Arsonist Clyde’s body trembled.

“Yes!”

He answered stiffly.

For these mafia bosses to reach such positions, they clearly possessed a certain awareness.

They were afraid that one day their protective umbrella would cast them aside and offer them up as scapegoats.

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They had to possess enough incriminating evidence against their patron to make it useful at a critical moment.

“Where is it?”

“In the hidden compartment behind the bookcase.”

At this, Zorn could not help smiling.

Most mafia bosses shared the same nature.

They were ruthless toward others and equally ruthless toward their own people.

If you dared to tear off the mask, they dared to drag everyone down with them.

“I assume the wealth you have accumulated is in there as well, correct?”

“Yes!”

His voice grew increasingly hoarse and low.

At the same time, pungent smoke began to spread from his body, and the smell of burning filled the air.

Mentioning wealth seemed to have touched the Arsonist’s most sensitive nerve.

His mutation and loss of control were sliding into an irreversible abyss.

“Cough, cough…”

He coughed heavily twice, black tar mixed with sparks spraying from his mouth.

Feeling that he had obtained nearly all the information he needed, Zorn asked one final question.

“Are any Bloodmarked Coral resources stored at the docks awaiting a transaction? Where exactly are they being kept?”

“Grrr… grrr…”

The Arsonist Clyde let out a low, bestial roar.

His body was growing hotter, like a mass of charcoal about to ignite.

Twisting and struggling, he muttered the details concerning the important resources stored at the docks.

As Zorn listened to his account, a surge of delight stirred faintly in his heart.

Resources such as Bloodmarked Coral were of little use to ordinary supernatural beings.

But to an evil-spirit sorcerer, their effects were extraordinary.

Zorn had come to cause trouble for the dockside mafia.

On the one hand, he intended to reclaim what belonged to him and, while he was at it, report the nobleman who had provoked him.

On the other, he wanted to test his luck and see whether the dockside mafia possessed any smuggled resources.

Now it seemed his luck was exceptionally good.

The warehouse controlled by the Homer Mafia not only contained smuggled goods, but apparently quite a substantial quantity of them.

Once Clyde had finished speaking—

“Whoosh!”

The Arsonist Clyde erupted into a blazing, violent inferno.

The Arsonist had completely lost control.

At the same time, Zorn unleashed the Evil Spirit’s Authority, which he had prepared long in advance, driving it viciously into the depths of Clyde’s spirituality.

“Hiss—”

It was as though the blade of death had been plunged into the depths of his soul.

The raging flames instantly seemed to lose their core. Though they continued to burn furiously, they no longer spread recklessly outward.

The Evil Spirit’s Authority could reshape spirituality. At the same time, it possessed the power to destroy supernatural spirituality.

Meanwhile, the dual-ringed serpent, impervious to flame, swiftly dragged Clyde into the fireplace at the side of the room.

“Whoosh!”

The fire, burning with a supernatural being as its fuel, roared to life.

Borrowing the firelight from the hearth, Zorn opened the hidden compartment behind the bookcase.

It was time to count his spoils.

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