Words Count: 4549

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Harrison ' Harry' Leeson had spent the better parts of his miserable Life dedicating himself to the Mystic Arts.

In fact, if he wasn't working a variety of dangerous odd jobs to gather funding for his researches or glued to his Workshop, then he could often be found sitting on the recliner chair he had set up in his room– (One of the precious rare few luxuries he allowed himself as a broke First-Gen)– Thinking of his future. Harry was no longer that naïve, ' wet behind the ears' amateur he once was, he no longer had any expectation for the way ahead,

For expectations led solely to disappointments, and he's tired– Oh-So tired of that.

The First-Gen had worked for decades in hope of seeing the days when he could lord his authority over others, a day when he would have to kneel to the Lords of the Tower no longer, yet the more he tried, the deeper the hole he dug… Until he could not find the light illuminating his path. All ahead was darkness so pure, so thick he thought it would swallow even lights should the two come to meet.

And following the darkness was envy, the same kind that led to Lucifer's rebellion against God.

The very same which brought great men of old to highs and lows,

But beyond that, envy controlled him.

The Sin motivated his unkind thoughts,

It puppeteered his actions.

Like a toxic ex-lover, it would whisper into his ears sweet nothings, telling him how it wasn't his fault he could not progress any further, that his failures could attributed purely to a lack of resources, that all those resources the ancient Families had access to should rightfully be his, and perhaps it's true… Maybe if he had the finance, he could be much farther along in his research!

At first, Harry hadn't believed this at all.

It's just a fleeting thought which came to mind every once in a while,

Yet, the longer this went on, the older he got, the more feeble his body became, the further Harry bought into the lies, and before he even realized it, he had grown to prefer and prioritize fantasies over all else. It was no wonder when another accomplished what Leeson had been actively pursuing for the last three decades, what he felt wasn't pride in his fellow First-Gen, but a deep dissatisfaction and a familiar sense of loss- something he had gotten rather used to.

Something Harry thought himself capable of ignoring…

But he was wrong.

'Why is it him and not me? What has that child sacrificed to succeed so magnificently, while I am forced to languish in this depthless pool of mediocrity?!' The thoughts dominated his mind, consumed his entire being and leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of the person Leeson once was. 'Why has everything I long for been gifted to him on a silver platter?'

Thus, when presented with the chance to enact what the Magus believed were Justice and Equality, Harry had not hesitated for longer than a second before choosing to accept the proposal. Hence, he alongside many others had come here, to Magnum Opus– Leonis' stall… Not to check on how a fellow First-Gen was doing, but to destroy and wreck everything he could possibly get his hands on.

Of course, the Magus knew ultimately this would achieve nothing of value, but it would ease the feeling of inferiority weighing on his shoulders at least, and judging from the sheer quantity of people in sight, Harry knew he wasn't the only one having these thoughts. "– His products are toxic! And he's selling these to people at outrageous prices! He ought to be ashamed of himself, ain't that right?!"

"""YEAH!""" Voices, male and female, young and old all joined to echo in unison. "What kind of monster sells poisons to his own people and make a damned profit out of it?! What say you people?!"

"""Down with him! Down with Magnum!"""

"The little bastard's Potions caused my friend to have a seizure mid-battle!" A voice quipped in. Having stayed in the Clock Tower for the majority of his life, Harry could spot a lie easy enough, especially when the liar purposefully kept key details which could be used to verify the authenticity out of the story, though seeing as this person, whoever they might be, was helping his cause, the Magus was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "It's said Leonis poisons his clients and secretly harvests their Magic Circuits."

Another maliciously added.

"Really?"

Like the sheep they were, the naïve First-Gens waiting around to watch a good show spoke.

"No way! Lord Magnum wouldn't do that!"

One denied- A fan of the boy probably, and almost instantly, she cowered as glares from everywhere were directed her way. "I heard the Freys boy fell into a seizures-induced coma yesterday, are these two things connected?"

"It has to, right? It's common knowledge implanting foreign Magic Circuits can cause nerve damage!" Just like that, the rumors got more and more appalling with each iteration with the last few even believing Magnum was a Demon in disguise, preying on the helpless innocents and stealing their Circuits. "You're kidding, right? Lady Barthomeloi would have recognized something if that's true!"

The opinion was immediately silenced by the loud hushes.

"You're putting her on a pedestal… Lady Barthomeloi isn't omniscient, she could be fooled!" Such scandalous disrespect would usually not be tolerated the nearby Aristocrats, yet not a voice was raised to defend their oh-so glorious Leader– Harry scoffed, never noticing the disgusted sneers decorating the faces of the Lords and Ladies in the vicinity. "Idiotic to put one of their own down like that."

"These barbaric ingrates– What a disgrace."

"How unsightly." Unfortunately, the whispers were far and few amongst this sea of hate-filled resentment. "Cu- Customers, I'm- I'm sure we can work this out somehow? Please calm down."

Sadly, the saleswoman's voice was drowned out by the endless screams and shouts coming from all direction. "Can you believe this?!"

The mob was silent, allowing the most vocal of the protesters to echo.

"This bitch is asking us to calm down when she's helping Magnum sell us literal poisons! Charging us thousands upon thousands of Pounds to drink the waste-materials they bottled and put on shelves!" The gradually growing crowd just got louder, riled up by the mere possibility that they had been played like fiddles. "What sort of fucking bullshit is this?! Give us back our money, you whore!"

Blinded by Envy,

Minds clouded with Greed,

Together, they charged at the saleswoman and the cashier like a pack of wild hyenas. It made them all feel just a little bit better about their lives to believe for once they're truly in control. None amongst the angry mob realized they're in truth mere puppets on someone's strings. They could already see it, the fortunes they'd make once those Potions were theirs, and the safes were… Secured in their possession.

Drunk on their combined ' strength', they didn't even hear the pulses of heartbeats echoing,

Nor did they feel the Hammer of Tyranny pressing down on their fragile, feeble bodies.

By the time they saw him, it's too late.

One of theirs– The first to take charge and rile up the crowd also, had been decapitated in a single stroke, a look of terror forever frozen on his pale face as his head went flying.

"How?!" Speechless, Harry muttered. "Magnum hasn't been spotted going back to the Country yet!"

—— [Fate: DML] ——

Apparently, there was plot against me.

Not that there wasn't any usually, but this was the first to directly target my businesses, and it sadly wouldn't be the last if the Mages of the Tower had a say in it. What pissed me off more was the fact it took both Alice and Zolgen this long to inform me about it.

The latter specifically. What use was the Demon if it couldn't even accomplish the most basic of tasks?! Lorelei basically had a giant Network of spies under her employ at any given time, Zolgen should have found out about this scheme long before the plans could be finalized, it should have known! I could have nipped this shit in the buds if it wasn't such an useless piece of shit.

Instead, I had to return to the Tower to the sight of my stalls being besieged by a group of nameless mobs! The Enforcers patrolling this section must have been bribed or something, 'cause there was no way in Hell it's this easy to create a riot in the Center of the Moonlit World. Scowling, I launched towards the first to arrive near my employees– Yes, I had employees, they're all First-Gens with nowhere to go and no one to rely on,

People whom I had handpicked out of several groups. Because how else would I have run my stalls otherwise?

I did not draw my blades- these idiots weren't worth it. A single slap was enough to splatter the guy's head, sending bits and chunks of his squishy brain flying. The sight made everyone stop what they were doing, their gazes jumpily tracking my movements like herd of deer faced with a snarling Lion, which's an apt description given how I must have appeared in their eyes with my messy hair, and the prominent scowl seemingly welded to my face.

"You- You can't be here!"

I glanced at the middle-aged man whose chin was covered in a stubby coat, his slim and shifty eyes moving in panic from the nearest exit to me. Like a snake, I tilted my head ever so slightly,

My nails, which were drenched in the dead guy's blood, waved to form a mist of crimson particles wafting around my crouched stature. At his words, I laughed. "If you all can protest like a bunch of idiots, why can't I suddenly pay a visit to my own stalls?"

My voice was innocent, which was in complete contrast with the tense atmosphere. What made it scarier was the headless corpse before me, dripping with crimson essences and a mixture of pulverized bones and crushed meat. "That's- That's not what I meant! And you can not just kill anyone who disagrees with you, it's not–"

"Not what? Not right?" My smile turned into a predatory grin. "This isn't a Democracy, you dumbass. This is the Clock Tower, where your achievements and Rank rule! Not to mention, in accordance to our Laws, I'm well-within my rights to retaliate with lethal force when an enemy is trying to steal my secrets, rather than organizing idiotic protest like this to put down a First-Gen much like yourself, why don't you all read a fucking book or do something useful for once?"

Yup, Potions were in this grey legal area between Mystery Theft and Copyright Infringement, provided the Owner had patented his research and the recipes correctly portrayed the dosage and use of each ingredient. Now that I thought about it, poisons were the same as well. Don't ask me why it's set up like that, I didn't write the laws, some guy did four centuries ago.

Sensing the shifts in their momentum, the one who had spoken out against me yelled once more. "Wha- What?! The bastard just killed one of ours! Are we just going to let that slide?!"

Seeing no one speak up, he stubbornly continued. "He's just one person, while we have so many people here, are you guys really afraid?!"

That would have worked under normal circumstances, but seeing as I was amongst the list of most powerful beings on the floor, it didn't gain much traction. There were few who hadn't heard of the tales of Leonis, spun by the Tower's own rumor mill. Seriously, some of the feats told in those stories were so implausible, I got secondhand embarrassment just listening to them.

The most outrageous claimed I scared even the Apostle Ancestors, a group of Apostles so powerful and ancient each could permanently change the landscape on their own. Honestly? I was a little afraid of that rumor, imagine the Ancestors catching wind of this and seeking me out personally… That would not be funny. And I had tried to cull these baseless rumors, trust me, but it had proven rather challenging to get rid of.

"Aw… Looks like your friends chicken out." I smiled teasingly, gaze zooming in on one of the more vocal participants of the protest. "You- Yes, you!"

I pointed at a guy in white suit, no idea why he thought wearing that to a protest where he would be touching and bumping into sweaty people constantly would be a good idea, but I couldn't be bothered to ask. Questioning idiots never accomplishes anything. "M- Me?"

He repeated, complexion paling several shades as I nodded. "You said your ' friend' overdosed on my potions mid-battle, did you not? C'mon now, don't lie. I saw the whole thing."

Hesitantly, he bobbed his head. "You do understand there's a warning label on all of my products telling people the proper dosage on every single bottle, correct? Even if it's true, which it probably isn't, would you blame the manufacturer or the salesman if your idiotic, brain-damaged of a child decided to chug down a whole container of bleach?"

"N- No?"

Pressing on my temples, I sighed. Wave of darkness seemed spill into existence behind me- an illusion caused by me bending the light, coupled with [Tyrannical Charisma] and [Hell King's Engine]. "SPEAK UP! Is that a question or a statement, you spineless fool?!"

"A- A statement, sir!" He stuttered, shrinking into himself as countless eyes set on him. "Good, very good. Then why the fuck are you here? In fact, who the fuck even is your friend anyway?!"

"S- Sue…"

"And her last name?"

"S- San?"

Disappointed, I palmed my face. "So your friend's Sue San? First name Sue, last name San. Full name: Sue San?"

As though he hadn't suffered enough humiliation, the bastard bobbed his head like he had done something good. "Bro… You're just lying outta your asshole right now."

I screamed at him, before turning to the last guy, faking confusion. "And you, you say I'm profiting too much from selling poisons, let me ask you something, is there a single potion on the market that isn't somewhat toxic?"

There was none, the fading of the Age of Gods made the ingredients for pure Potions practically impossible to obtain anywhere on this Side of Gaia. Maybe if you had access to the Reverse Side it would be different, but even then retrieval would prove quite a pain, considering the sheer intensity of the Mana would cause blood to erupt from all of your seven orifices. "There isn't, but yours are a lot worse than others!"

His complaint was valid, but… "Then buy those instead? Oh-Wait, like me you're fucking broke, and those cost fifty-thousand pounds each at the minimum. With my arrival alone, I've singlehandedly reduced the death-rate for Enforcers by twenty-two point nine percent!"

I shouted, posturing as the whispers got louder. "He does have a point…"

It's the truth, statistically, the death-rate amongst Enforcers was at an all-time low, though I very much doubted it's solely due to my potions. If anything, it's more closely related to the fact that I was hogging all the dangerous Apostles and wannabes would have more to do with it. Still, since the statistics were on my side, why not make use of them?

"You may think I'm a sellout for joining the Aristocrats, you may look down on me for getting comfortable with the ' enemies', but have I not done much for our community?! You say I'm unworthy of what I've been granted, but are you guys any different? Are you worthier than me somehow? Hiding behind this disgusting façade of strength!"

I did not have to wait long for a response. "Don't lie to us, you did it for yourself and no one else!"

"And? So what if I'm doing it to profit?" Head tilted, I asked with genuine curiosity.

"I won't deny it, I do sell my products to profit." I shrugged, sweeping my finger at the entire crowd. "But can anyone here confidently say they would have given everything to charity? Fuck, if I wanted I could have sold my products for ten to fifteen-thousand pounds each and made a killing with that price, but I chose to sell at a tenth of the market price so everyone, rich and poor can afford my potions!"

'That's it Leonis, keep it real and simple, show your emotions so they can relate to you.' While teleporting to the Tower, I had thought this through. The protest was clearly organized by one of my enemies– Malcolm most likely. It'd have been dangerous, and might have worked if I hadn't arrived in time to defend myself.

People were stupid like that, they wouldn't have questioned it if the perpetrator published a newspaper with the Headline: ' Potions causing untold damages and deaths, Lord Magnum has thus far refused to speak on the matter.'

Doubly so when they're jealous of someone. If I hadn't been notified of the plot, the damage to my reputation would have been astronomical and irreparable, which could be used as a foundation for further political attacks in the future. My usual response would be to kill every single one involved in this shit show, but there were at least fifty-something faces amongst the crowd.

Slaughtering them all would not be worthwhile, plus most of them were only guilty of being dumb, manipulatable sheep. It's hardwired into their DNA to follow the majority for safety, it's not their fault…. And ultimately, taking their lives would have created more troubles for me down the line than it could have potentially solved.

When I saw a few of them nod, I questioned loudly. "You may believe I'm a traitor, but in the end are we all not First Generation Magi? We're the same–"

No we were not, but at least the cringe-inducing speech seemed to have calmed the growing resentment in their hearts. "– Why are you guys trying to tear me down when we could have achieved so much more working together? Am I not proof that the Great Houses are wrong to think of us First-Gens as useless, disposable meat-bags?!"

"""Yeah- Yeah!""" Their momentum was shattered, their conviction lost. "But I know why you're doing this, you're envious of the new kid who received everything you've ever desired… You look at me, and you do not see one of yours, you see the face- the poster boy for the Aristocrats! In fact, I have no doubt some of you came just to shit on me, and that's fine. But, do remember: You're. Getting. Played. They are pitting us against one another so they can profit!"

Who were they? Malcolm and the Wandering Sea probably.

"Wh- What about the rumor regarding your Ritual? It's said the Freys boy is in a coma now!" I chuckled at the unspoken allegation and said lightly. "Four months ago, I performed a Ritual on Laufey Freys and he has been fine since, yet the moment I'm doing well for myself, he falls into a coma near the day a protest is staged against me… Don't you find it oddly convenient?"

Actually, I didn't know what's going on with the kid at all. Hadn't bothered to check on him for four months straight, and the Trial I used on him was an untested and altered version of my own, so it's entirely possible him falling into a coma was partly my fault, but seeing as Sakura was still fine and dandy, it's not a stretch to say the Freys might have a hand in staging this. It's mot even hard to believe given Lord Freys' track record.

'The shifty motherfucker.'

Beside, there was nothing better to leverage public approval than a conspiracy theory.

After all, once is happenstance,

Twice is coincidence,

Three times is enemy action.

There were too many coincidences happening at the same time for them to believe otherwise, as long as they had a functioning brain-cell. I merely needed to point it out for them. Now, to go in for the kill… "As opposed to the rumors going around, the reason I chose to apprentice under Lady Barthomeloi is to one up the Aristocrats, to show them a First Gen did what they couldn't! Even now, many of them plot and scheme my demise!"

"It makes sense… I've heard from a friend House Freys is actively helping to put a Sealing Designation on Lord Magnum." Purrrfect. "I do not ask you to help fight my battles, all I dare ask of you is to keep an open-mind, to think critically when you hear allegations like this aimed at me."

With that, the resentment dissipated, but to truly solidify my position in their hearts… "And to prove my sincerity, starting Monday next week, everyone will receive a special, fifteen-percent discount on all purchases! How about that?!"

While a lot of my clients were First Gens, quite a few were from Houses which were down on their luck in recent decades. By making the discount available for everyone, I was hoping to include them as well.

"Why not twenty-percent?!" A voice jokingly asked.

"Alright, alright! Twenty-percent it is." In order to buy out the crowd, I agreed without a word of complaints. In the end, the Clock Tower was a society revolved around benefits, this should cool their undeserved anger.

The discount was nothing in the grand scheme of things, even with a twenty-percent decrease in incomes, I could easily make back the loss later. And, since it's just a mere week anyway, I shouldn't have any problem keeping my business afloat. Now, some might say this would affect my relationship with the rest of the Faction, but it's not that big a deal. Those who would get upset by this weren't friendly in the first place, and those who weren't a closet racist would know to automatically exclude themselves.

Nothing had changed,

Well… Nothing beside my growing popularity amongst First-Gen Magi and the poorer Houses that was. 'I really don't know if this is a blessing or a curse, but since it's in my favor, I guess I'll take it.'

—— [Fate: DML] ——

"Impossible! My agents said he has gone to the US and hasn't been seen leaving!" Face twisted in displeasure, the man slammed his hand on the table and even though he hadn't used [Reinforcement, his strength alone was enough to splinter the wood with ease. In front of him, another man- much older than he was, scowled. "Well, your agents are wrong! I just lost a grandchild because of you, how do you plan on compensating House Freys?!"

Malcolm rolled his eyes at the old weasel's charade and scoffed. "Please, as if you give a rat's ass about your oh-so precious grandson... If my sources were to be trusted, he was being used as a lab rat for you Freys, wasn't he?"

Unashamedly, the old weasel admitted without a slightest hint of change in his expression. "And he was a phenomenal subject- a subject which your carelessness has cost our House!"

At those heartless words, even Malcolm could not resist the urge to shiver. Like every and all secrets, Lord Freys' exploits of his many descendants hadn't gone unnoticed, at least not in their circles. In the Moonlit World, there were the criminally insane, the obsessed, the broken and then there were people like Alder Freys- a complete and utter sociopath who always believed he's the smartest one in the room.

Not that Malcolm was much better, but at least he still cared about his own Lineage, unlike the dusty old thing currently sitting in his Office like a pile of stinking, hot turds. "Not only did we fail to discredit him, we also exposed ourselves…"

Exhaustion crept on his face as Lord Nancy massaged his head, his eyes zooming in on the fly buzzing around his desk. "It seems we have underestimated him. He couldn't have escaped my agents otherwise, not when I've had people stationed in every Airport within a twenty-five miles radius. No, no! It won't end like this, not until that little shit has paid!"

"Ehem… About the compensation, your recent research into Astrology will suffice."

In a smooth motion, Malcolm grabbed the fly by its wings, crushing the poor creature as if it's his worst enemy incarnated. "I suggest you leave, Alder. Prepare your House for a counter attack, I have no doubt he will be going after you next."

"The foolish child is not a threat, he does not matter! What does is what you will pay to compensate House Freys for the resources we lost entertaining this frankly ridiculous–" The old weasel immediately shut up as he felt a sharpened spike poke at his nape. "Lord Freys, I'm not one of those snot-nosed brats you can threaten without consequences. The next thing that comes out of your mouth will determine the fate of our partnership so please… I beg of you–"

He leaned forth, his eyes wide and unblinking as he tapped the newly-painted desk. "– For your own sake, choose your words carefully."

"You- You!" Alder pointed at him shakily, his complexion purple and red from rage, though knowing he's outmatched, the old weasel could only let it go. Rising to his feet, Lord Freys scowled, his rough voice echoing. "This is not the end of our discussion!"

Those words were Alder's last as he stormed out of the Office, leaving a pensive Malcolm alone with his thoughts. "I understand now… So that's how he did it!"

The Lord laughed, but immediately composed himself as he realized the implications of this. "So the little bastard has a Spell that can move him across continent."

Spells like those were rare, beyond rare in fact. The closet thing Malcolm had heard of a long-distance transportation Spell was Broom Flight- A Spell belonging in the Witchcraft category, and those were definitely not instantaneous. Just the mere thoughts of such Spells went against the Tower's scientific method. Sure, in theory, it's not that hard to accomplish, but in practice the sheer amount of Mana needed to tear a hole in Space from one destination to another and trick the World's Consciousness was astronomical,

And that's only half the problem,

For the tear to target a specific location, you must have created a powerful Matrix beforehand, which would have notified every Magus in the vicinity every time it's used… "He couldn't have used one, not without alerting the Tower, which means–"

A quote suddenly entered his mind. 'When you have eliminated all which is impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'

"Little bastard can do it at will…" Leaning back, Malcolm couldn't help but thought maybe, just maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew this time. "No. I'll have my satisfaction, you will not win!"

Angrily, he slammed on the arm of his chair, never noticing his ever faithful maid taking notes on the side.