The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

“Damn, this day could’ve turned out real shitty. If I’d known the target wasn’t Corrupted but a black mage, I’d never have taken this job—not even as punishment.”

On the way back from the mission.

Having crossed death’s line together, Hella seemed to feel some kind of forced camaraderie toward me, chattering without pause.

“Turned out shitty?”

“In the end, it worked out, didn’t it? Sure, it was risky, but we took the black mage’s head. We’ll probably get a bounty on top of the commission. If he’s on the wanted list, that’ll be a tidy bonus.”

A black mage’s status was contradictory.

Some lived openly under the protection of the powerful, but others ended up on the city’s public kill list for unethical experiments and disturbing public order.

There were even professional bounty-hunting organizations specializing in hunting only black mages.

The bounty wasn’t fortune-making, but as a side income, it was more than enough.

I could understand why Hella was practically skipping with cheer in her steps.

“Thanks to this, I’ve got a good payday. That old bastard’s probably waiting for me to come back sulking, but when I tell him I earned us money? Can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

Hella’s hand crept toward my shoulder.

I swatted it away, not just because I disliked physical contact with a rough mercenary.

“You said if I stood back, you’d handle everything yourself. You’re not even embarrassed?”

“You’re still hung up on that? If it pissed you off, I’ll apologize. But hey, I meant well—”

“And the payout. We’re splitting it properly.”

“Huh?”

Don’t think you can slide that past me.

Maybe my looks made me seem naive by mercenary standards, but I had more experience than most veterans.

“I found the black mage, and I killed him. You weren’t planning to suggest an even split, were you? That’d be shameless.”

“Khmm.”

Hella gave a forced cough, then peeked at me from the corner of her eyes.

“...That’s not negotiable?”

“Then you’d better accept that you’ll never work with me—or anyone tied to Drexier Mercenaries—again.”

If she insisted on pulling tricks, I’d give in for the sake of avoiding a fight, but I’d remember her as nothing but a bad connection.

Money was the goal in this industry, but ironically, being blinded by money meant losing more in the long run.

Trust between comrades, for example.

And since money wasn’t my ultimate goal, I valued that even more.

“Fine, it was a joke. I was planning to give you eighty percent anyway.”

“Your jokes skate too close to the line.”

“Testing the waters isn’t a crime, is it? I wasn’t threatening you—if you’d agreed, I’d have benefited. That’s all.”

She grinned slyly.

Clever while pretending to be straightforward.

Somehow, though, it didn’t come off as hateful.

“Well, guess this is where we part.”

At the fork in the road to her office, Hella said her goodbyes.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Our squad reports in first thing when we return. The office’s agent handles all dealings with brokers.”

She puffed her chest out as if it were a point of pride.

I had nothing to say.

‘Using agents like that… it has clear pros and cons.’

Sure, it saved you from haggling, but to me, direct contact with brokers was far more useful.

When I let it slide, she pouted.

“You’re no fun. If it weren’t for that face, no one would bother with you.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

“I said you’ve got charm to make up for it—that’s a compliment.”

Her tongue was quick.

When I frowned, she laughed it off.

“You must be tired. Wrap things up quick and get some rest. Oh, and I meant what I said—come see our commander sometime. We’ll share a drink then, alright?”

“Go already.”

“Don’t forget. I’ll be waiting.”

I watched the noisy woman leave, then headed for the broker’s office.

“You’re back early. I thought tomorrow at the soonest.”

Broker Cromwell was in the same place as always, as though he were mechanical.

Calmly polishing glasses for the bar disguised beneath his office.

In the game, that had been his NPC habit.

Now it felt more like a glimpse of his work ethic.

I’d only been here a handful of times, but the sight already calmed me.

“The mercenary you introduced was competent. We worked well together, and things went quickly.”

“Drexier’s mercenaries do have a solid reputation.”

“They’re famous?”

“Plenty of contractors want them.”

“That impressive, huh.”

If even those self-centered freelancers acknowledged them, it said everything.

By the time I’d been active in previous runs, the Drexier Mercenaries had already disbanded.

I hadn’t known how they were regarded at this point in time.

Maybe Hella’s invitation to join wasn’t just empty words.

“All Corrupted have been cleared.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for your payment to be processed quickly. Since it’s a matter of public security, the city’s offices won’t delay.”

“And there’s something else to report.”

I sat down at the bar.

This time, Cromwell handed me a glass himself.

Not alcohol, just cold water—but it meant he no longer saw me as a disposable rookie.

“There was a black mage in the lab.”

“…A black mage. You certainly draw interesting assignments.”

Cromwell shook his head.

First the berserk goblin, now this.

It was rare to see so many unforeseen events outside contract terms.

I almost thought I saw sympathy flicker in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“You know black mages can’t be reasoned with. I killed him.”

“As expected.”

“Black mages are tricky. Not their strength, but their curses. Permanent injuries, sometimes death. Plenty of lives ruined because they weren’t prepared. You’re unharmed?”

“As you can see.”

“Your skill is greater than I thought.”

It was nearly impossible to clash with a black mage without suffering their curses.

He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

Then quickly composed himself, already calculating.

“I can guess what you’re after. But don’t think you’ll get an increased reward again. Not with the city as the client.”

“I wasn’t expecting that. The bounty will be enough.”

Whether the city had known about the black mage or not, they’d deny everything.

In this world, even the underworld’s rules meant nothing in the face of city authorities.

“Just make sure, if he was wanted, that the bounty doesn’t get skimmed.”

“Of course. And how do you want the payout divided?”

“Eighty for me, twenty for Drexier.”

“Generous of them to accept.”

“It was divided by contribution.”

“It’s just your word for now, so I’ll confirm with Drexier’s representative as well.”

“Do as you like. Best to keep things clean so no one complains afterward.”

Since I had already settled things with Hella, it was unlikely she’d go back on her word. Still, mercenary company politics could be a different matter.

“One last thing I want to ask.”

Now we were getting to the real business.

I drained the cold water in my glass and rose from my seat.

“Speak.”

“I want to buy information on Hynax.”

“The company behind the lab from this assignment?”

“Exactly. Brokers are information dealers too, aren’t they?”

No job was closer to information than brokering.

By default, a broker gathered data through countless connections, and some even ran private networks.

Cromwell was competent enough that I figured he belonged to the latter group.

“I want the identities and whereabouts of the lab’s director, or at least anyone in direct management.”

Cromwell fixed his eyes on me, as though trying to read my intent.

“You’re not just looking to vent after running into a black mage. What’s the real reason?”

“I want to know who sponsored the black mage I met there.”

“I see.”

Someone had to have supplied him with the original spell or at least taught him.

That person might know something about the spirit cocoon fragments or the circuits carved into their surface.

‘If it’s the latter, they could be the true culprit.’

Either way, they were someone I had to track.

“Look into the company itself too. Focus on why they shut down the lab so abruptly.”

From the black mage’s magic, I could tell the research had produced results of some kind.

So why had they suddenly withdrawn?

It wasn’t something I could just let go of—it gnawed at me.

‘If it were just money, they’d have compromised somehow…’

I had stumbled on a valuable lead by sheer luck. I intended to dig until I found the truth.

Watching Cromwell stroke his beard as though tallying costs in his head, I asked,

“Can you do it?”

“It won’t be difficult. The real question is how much you can pay.”

“Use my share of the bounty.”

“That’ll be more than enough.”

Since it was unexpected income, I didn’t mind spending all of it.

If it revealed the secrets I was chasing, it was a bargain.

“I’ll have it all ready by the time you return for your reward.”

“I’m counting on you.”

A week at most, I figured.

I wasn’t planning to take another assignment right away, so I could rest and come back later.

‘Hopefully Greenwood will put up a job around then too.’

That would be ideal.

Tracing the roots of black magic was one path.

Uncovering the secrets of the spirits, through Greenwood’s contracts, was the other.

‘For now, all I can do is wait.’

I headed back to my hotel with a light step.

Roughly one week.

Not wasted time, but sweet rest in preparation for what came next.

“…A black mage?”

The deep voice rumbled through the spacious room, powerful enough to strike the eardrum even without effort.

Facing the hulking, musclebound giant slouched on a sofa, Hella rattled on.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Went in to take down Corrupted and found a black mage instead. One wrong move and I’d be dead! Don’t you have anything to say about that, old man? You’re the one who punished me with this job.”

She crossed her arms and glared straight ahead, body language demanding an apology.

Drexier only snorted.

“You look fine enough to me. Quit whining.”

“Wow. So you don’t believe me?”

“Either way, you came back with the black mage’s head. It’s all experience. You should thank me for giving you such rare experience.”

“Experience my ass. If it weren’t for my partner, I’d already be six feet under.”

Her rude habit of cursing at her superior was nothing new—hardly worth pointing out anymore.

Instead, Drexier focused on something else.

“Was he stronger than you?”

“I don’t know. But it was him, not me, who killed the black mage. That’s why he gets eighty percent of the bounty, I get twenty. Handle that with the broker.”

“…Hmmm.”

“What, not enough money for you?”

“No. If that’s your decision, we won’t interfere.”

It wasn’t the money that caught his interest.

It was the man who had earned his promising rookie’s respect.

“How did he fight the black mage?”

“He just… reached out his hand, and the black magic started burning up.”

“…What?”

Drexier hadn’t expected that answer.

“I’m serious. He pulled out some weird vine from his arm, and it burned the magic away. It was so flashy I couldn’t stop staring.”

“…You’d better go back and study before it’s too late.”

“What? What’s wrong with my explanation?”

“Such a simple description doesn’t paint a picture.”

That was the problem with ignorant mercenaries.

Still, Drexier understood one thing: the man had unusual abilities.

“Do you think he’s worth recruiting?”

“I already asked him to visit our office.”

“Well done.”

The Drexier Mercenaries, always plagued by chronic understaffing, weighed many conditions when choosing members.

If even the prickly Hella approved, his character couldn’t be bad.

A skilled recruit would always be welcome.

“We’ll discuss it in detail later. For now, get some rest.”

“Fine. Don’t bother me for a while—I’m taking time off.”

“In one week, you must return.”

“Why?”

“There’s a job. Someone wants an escort back to District 7.”

“Oh.”

The mysterious client, always wandering into the city’s outskirts.

By now, Hella was practically their exclusive mercenary.

‘…Come to think of it, that light that burned the black mage’s fog—it looked like the glow I saw from that client before.’

She hadn’t paid it much attention at the time, with their face hidden under a hood, but she remembered the shimmer in their grasp.

Not certain, but similar somehow.

‘Do they know each other?’

The thought flickered through her mind, then she dismissed it.

‘No way.’

There was no way a highborn lady—her best guess at the client’s identity—would have any link to Allen, a freelancer.

No reasonable connection at all.

‘If it keeps bothering me, I’ll just ask later.’

In the end, it wasn’t her concern.

(End of Chapter)