The Returned Magician Prevents the End

Chapter 8

The Scrapheart Grand Market, located in the southern part of Scrap City.

The market’s buildings, piled high with rusted scrap metal, seemed to test just how chaotic the city could become.

The precarious structures of the grand market, built by stacking one makeshift framework atop another, looked as though they might collapse at any moment under a strong gust of wind.

The Scrapheart Grand Market, where all the goods of Scrap City converged, was a rare place overflowing with vibrant energy, even amidst the desolation of the city.

People shouting at the top of their lungs, faces flushed red as they ran breathlessly, as if on the verge of collapse.

And others, ignoring the clamor, examining the goods laid out on stalls with serious expressions.

A motley crowd of people gathered, breathing fiery vitality into the monochrome city of Scrap City.

The intense heat of the market, sustained throughout the day, transformed into a different form after nightfall.

When the stalls, filled with all manner of goods, were dismantled, and even the most passionate merchants retired for the night, the true face of the grand market revealed itself.

The ‘Black Market,’ held on the first floor of the massive Tower of Domination at the heart of the grand market.

Operated by the ‘Iron Jackal,’ which controlled the southern part of Scrap City, this exclusive market was accessible only to a select few, but the profits it generated rivaled those of the entire grand market.

This was because the Black Market offered unique goods unavailable elsewhere in Scrap City: Artifacts and slaves.

Through the immense profits of the Black Market, the Iron Jackal had been able to assert its ownership of the Tower of Domination more firmly than anyone else.

Thus, with the number of visitors to the Black Market dwindling, the members of the Iron Jackal felt a horrific dread, as if their very survival was at stake.

“What in the world is going on? How did it come to this!”

Deep within the Tower of Domination, in the meeting room where the Iron Jackal’s executives gathered, the one shouting furiously was Scrap, the leader of the Iron Jackal and the Tower Lord of the Tower of Domination.

The fact that the number of visitors to the market had plummeted wasn’t just a crisis for him—it filled him with cosmic terror.

The executives seated beside him cautiously read their reports, wary of any objects that might come flying their way.

“According to our investigation, the Black Market’s revenue over the past month totaled 760,000 credits. This is a 40 percent decrease compared to the previous month, with a particularly noticeable decline in Artifact sales…”

“I know! I already know! Do you think I gathered you idiots here because I don’t know that!”

The executive reading the report quickly raised the documents to shield his head from the objects Scrap was throwing.

Fortunately, what flew at him was a thin metal stylus, not a cup.

Without even glancing at the thrown stylus, Scrap shouted at the executives.

“Listen carefully! If you can’t find the reason for this drop in revenue, I’ll sell every one of you sitting here to make up for the losses. Got it!”

The executives in the meeting room didn’t dare open their mouths, only enduring Scrap’s tirade.

Their passive demeanor only fueled Scrap’s rage further.

As Scrap, now completely unhinged, reached for a cup instead of a stylus to throw, one of the executives holding a report desperately shouted.

“C-Come to think of it, there’s been a strange rumor circulating in the grand market recently.”

“A strange rumor? What is it? Speak!”

“Y-Yes! I heard that people selling Artifacts have been appearing in the grand market lately. They say a person with shimmering silver hair and blue eyes approaches people and sells expensive Artifacts at bargain prices. It’s just a rumor, but…”

Scrap’s face twisted in disbelief.

“So, what you’re saying is that these weirdos selling Artifacts are the reason we’re in this mess?”

“I-I’m just suggesting a possibility. We don’t know if the rumor is true, but shouldn’t we at least keep it in mind?”

Scrap, who had been reaching for the cup to throw, withdrew his hand.

No matter how he thought about it, the rumor of people selling Artifacts seemed far-fetched, but in a situation where revenue was plummeting by the day, every possibility needed to be considered.

“Pick a few sharp ones and have them investigate the rumor’s truth. If it’s real, this is something we absolutely cannot overlook.”

The meeting continued, but no viable solutions were proposed.

Scrap’s mind was consumed with thoughts of the rumor the executive had mentioned.

Silver hair and blue eyes? Could a wizard really be selling Artifacts in person?

Scrap couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurd thought that crossed his mind.

No, that can’t be. Those arrogant bastards would never stoop to such a thing.

Shaking off the thought, Scrap reached for the cup again to punish his incompetent subordinates, who continued to offer useless opinions.

* * *

A dark night without even a single star.

In an alley filled with reddish, rusted scrap metal, only the faint noise of the bustling grand market could be heard.

Amid the shadowy cityscape, only the dim flickering of lanterns dotted the scene.

In that narrow alley stood a person wearing an elegant white robe.

Beside them stood a burly figure cloaked in a dark brown cape and another, relatively small-statured person.

Though their clothing and builds differed, all three had their hoods pulled low, concealing their faces.

Standing motionless in the cramped alley, they seemed to be waiting for someone.

As the faint noise of the grand market faded, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the darkness.

“They’re coming.”

No one responded to the low voice, but the small-statured person glided silently to the side of the one in the white robe.

“Who’s there!”

A sharp cry shattered the silence, stirring chaos in the quiet alley.

Faced with the hooded figures in the dark alley, the newcomers reacted in a manner typical of Scrap City’s citizens.

As they began drawing their weapons one by one, the one who had been waiting for this moment finally acted.

“How dare you! Who do you think you’re drawing weapons in front of!”

The people flinched at Victor’s sharp voice.

Though they were prepared for all kinds of ambushes, none had expected to hear a boy’s voice in the pitch-black darkness.

“Who the hell are you? Reveal yourselves!”

“Reveal ourselves? How insolent! You filthy ground-dwellers, daring to demand a glimpse of a noble one’s visage!”

The faces of the newcomers grew ashen as they processed Victor’s words.

A few of them fumbled to light their lanterns, trying to get a look at those blocking their path.

As if reprimanding their actions, a brilliant light flared from the chest of Rough, the one in the white robe, illuminating the dark alley.

The onlookers, shielding their eyes, felt their breath catch.

Even with the radiant light, they couldn’t make out Rough’s face beneath the hood.

But the shimmering silver hair, dazzlingly bright, was unmistakable.

“A wizard…! The rumor was true!”

Fear and ecstasy mingled on the faces of those who saw Rough’s gleaming hair.

Hesitating to approach Rough rashly, one person, who appeared to be their leader, finally stepped forward.

“Noble one, it is an honor to meet you like this. We are…”

“Enough.”

“What?”

“I have no interest in who you are. I care nothing for the affairs of lowly ground-dwellers.”

Rough spoke with an air of languid arrogance.

A growing sense of unease crept onto the leader’s face as he listened.

Though Rough’s words carried the confidence and arrogance befitting a wizard wielding unimaginable power, his voice was far too soft.

It reminded the leader of a young boy, and as he raised his head in confusion, Victor, who had been watching, swiftly activated an Artifact.

“You insolent fools! Bow your heads at once!”

No sooner had Victor spoken than a red glow emanated from him, illuminating Rough’s face.

Terrified by the ominous aura, the newcomers hurriedly knelt before Rough.

“One mistake can be forgiven. But a second will not be tolerated.”

“We understand.”

Ignoring the leader, who was banging his forehead against the ground, Rough gestured to the burly figure.

The giant, who had remained silent until then, placed a large bag in front of the gathered crowd.

Thud!

The newcomers, startled by the heavy thud of the massive bag, were even more shocked when they saw the contents spilling out as it was opened.

“You came here for these, didn’t you?”

“You mean everything in that bag is…”

“Exactly. These are what you call Artifacts.”

At Rough’s words, the eyes of the people gathered in the alley shifted from fear to greed.

Watching their breathing grow ragged, Rough giggled as if he could hardly contain his amusement.

“Ordinarily, such items should never fall into the hands of your base creatures. But if you pay a fair price, I’m willing to make an exception and hand them over.”

“And what would be a fair price…?”

“Those peculiar metal scraps you call credits will do. Let’s see… about three thousand credits per item should suffice.”

“T-Three thousand credits, you say?”

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, no! How could I dare doubt the words of a noble one!”

Rough noticed the leader, frantically waving his hands, was barely suppressing a grin.

Artifacts, even the cheapest ones, cost at least ten thousand credits in the Black Market.

Three thousand credits was by no means cheap, but it was an incredible bargain for an Artifact.

The leader was likely overwhelmed with joy at this unexpected stroke of luck, probably itching to dance.

“What’s your answer?”

As Rough growled, leaving no room for refusal, the bowing figures hurriedly began pulling out their money pouches.