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### Chapter 98: Tying Up Loose Ends
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 14:31:56 +0000 UTCIn the aftermath of the gruesome cleanup within the abandoned building, Russell had initially considered summoning Yoriichi to handle the disposal, envisioning the swordsman's golden-red flames engulfing the remains and reducing everything to fine ash in a brilliant display of purifying fire. However, he quickly reconsidered, realizing that such a conspicuous blaze would light up the night sky like a beacon, drawing unwanted attention from anyone in the vicinity. Reluctantly, he set aside the idea, making a mental note for the future. I should probably craft a specialized card dedicated to erasing evidence and destroying bodies, he pondered, acknowledging the practical necessity in his increasingly complicated double life.
Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for now, he activated the [Mark 3] armor's flight capabilities, allowing it to carry him swiftly through the darkened skies to a secluded alleyway located a safe distance from his new residence. Once grounded, he requested Arrogance's assistance in altering his appearance, the symbiote responding by subtly reshaping his features and build. As the armor retracted and vanished into his card deck, what emerged from the shadows was an unremarkable middle-aged man, blending seamlessly into the ordinary. He stepped out onto the bustling street, merging with the flow of pedestrians before weaving his way into the vibrant chaos of a large night market, where stalls brimmed with sizzling street food, colorful trinkets, and lively chatter.
Throughout his journey through the market, Arrogance continued to work its magic, incrementally adjusting his facial structure, hair color, and even posture with each passing moment to ensure no consistent trail could be followed. By the time he exited the other side of the market, he had reverted to his true youthful appearance, feeling a sense of security wash over him. This level of precaution should suffice, he reassured himself. Even if someone had been tailing me, they'd be lost in the crowd by now. At its core, the incident boiled down to a minor scuffle involving a low-tier illegal cardmaker and a detective—hardly the stuff of high-profile scandals. The authorities would likely assign no more than a bronze-level investigator to the case, and his careful maneuvers were more than adequate to evade such scrutiny.
With his tracks thoroughly obscured, Russell turned his steps toward the Everspring Clinic, knowing that completing a mission naturally required a report to his handler. It was all part of maintaining the facade, ensuring the Spirit Begging Society believed he was still firmly in their pocket.
Meanwhile, back at the abandoned building that had served as the thugs' hideout, a short man with a square face surveyed the horrific scene before him, his expression dark and brooding as he took in the ritualistic aftermath of blood and mangled remains. Beside him, a young woman with a ponytail, her arm wrapped in a fresh bandage from a recent injury, doubled over and retched violently into the corner.
"A professional hit to tie up loose ends," the square-faced man muttered through gritted teeth, his voice heavy with frustration and anger. He turned to the woman, his tone shifting to one of concern mixed with urgency. "Ivy, walk me through what you witnessed again. Every detail matters."
The young detective, Ivy, straightened up as best she could, still covering her mouth to stave off another wave of nausea, her words coming out in halting bursts. "Chief, I followed your instructions and stayed hidden outside the building to avoid detection. Roughly half an hour ago, a figure clad in a full suit of silver armor approached and entered. He exuded an aura of immense strength—I didn't dare confront him or follow inside. About ten minutes later, he emerged and departed without a trace."
The chief's heart sank further at her recounting, the implications hitting him like a cold wave. "Such a brief visit... it was clearly a targeted elimination. It's a shame the scene has been processed so meticulously—there's not a single viable clue left for us to pursue." He paused to send Ivy's description of the armored figure to his colleagues via a quick message, hoping for a match in their databases, before letting out a weary sigh. "You've done exceptional work here, Ivy. This hideout was your discovery after all those sleepless nights of surveillance." He had raced to the location as soon as she notified him, but fate had conspired to make him arrive just a step too late.
"It wasn't hard work, Chief," Ivy replied, a flicker of righteous indignation crossing her pale features despite her discomfort. "Any detective worth their badge would act against scum like these illegal cardmakers preying on the vulnerable."
The chief placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, appreciating her youthful zeal even in the face of such horror. "Did you uncover any additional leads during your stakeout? Anything that might point us to a larger network?"
Disappointment etched itself onto Ivy's face as she shook her head. "No, Chief. This location was the only solid hit I managed to find after weeks of following breadcrumbs."
"The trail's gone cold now," the chief admitted, his words echoing hollowly in the desolate space as he gestured to the carnage. "We'll have no choice but to close the case for the time being."
Ivy stared at him in disbelief, her eyes widening. "But Chief, it's obvious there's a bigger player orchestrating this! Won't the court push for a deeper investigation?"
Gazing at her earnest, idealistic expression, the chief offered a bitter smile, the weight of experience evident in his response. "Those higher-ups in the courts and beyond are often too preoccupied with grander matters to bother with what they see as petty squabbles. In a city like this, you're better off relying on the Cardmakers Association for real action than expecting miracles from the bureaucracy."
Before Ivy could press him with more questions, the chief's phone vibrated with an incoming alert. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing as he read the message. "That armored individual you described... we actually have a file on him. First sightings trace back to New Metro. Codename: Aim Alman."
On the opposite side of the city, oblivious to the fact that government detectives were already piecing together fragments of the puzzle, Russell sat composed in Misty's office at the Everspring Clinic, maintaining his calm demeanor as if nothing extraordinary had transpired.
Misty's refined features registered genuine astonishment as she stared at him. "Is it already handled?" she inquired, her voice tinged with incredulity.
Russell nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I eliminated them all."
A visible twitch appeared on Misty's forehead at his blunt admission, her composure cracking slightly. "Let me clarify something," she said, her tone strained with barely concealed exasperation. "When you say 'all of them,' are you referring to the detectives involved?"
Russell, who had been midway through sipping a glass of water, nearly choked, coughing as he set the glass down. "Do you honestly think I'm operating at a Master Cardmaker level? I don't possess that kind of overwhelming capability." He proceeded to recount the details as Rhys had explained them to him, outlining the sequence of events without embellishment.
Only then did Misty grasp the full picture, her initial tension easing. She had anticipated a more convoluted operation involving staging a murder and framing the scene to deflect suspicion. Instead, Russell had opted for a straightforward, albeit brutal, resolution. Yet, she couldn't fault his approach—it aligned with the Society's pragmatic ethos, and given the binding contract that tied him to their cause, she had no reason to suspect any ulterior motives or deception on his part.
"If you can't resolve the issue directly, then eliminate the source of the issue," Russell remarked philosophically, his voice filling the office with a matter-of-fact tone. "On that note, you should also deliver the reward promised to me previously." He was alluding to the compensation the Spirit Begging Society had pledged for his victory in the competition and his subsequent apprenticeship under Blake Whitmore. Squinting at Misty with a hint of playful suspicion, he added, "You're not planning to withhold my payment, are you?"
Misty rolled her eyes in mild annoyance at his teasing, retrieving an envelope from her desk drawer and tossing it across to him. "That includes the reward for this mission as well. Verify it yourself."
Without hesitation, Russell tore open the envelope and inspected its contents.
The materials inside were: Silver-level [Demon Hunter] (Purple), Silver-level [Blood of Resurrection] (Gold), and Silver-level [Power Demon] (Gold).
Examining the three high-quality silver-level materials, Russell couldn't suppress a sigh of admiration. "Impressive—quite the generous haul."
"This marks the final support we'll provide you in the near term," Misty stated flatly, dousing his budding excitement like a splash of cold water.
Russell's heart skipped a beat at her words, a flicker of alarm crossing his mind as he wondered if his covert actions had been uncovered. Fortunately, her following explanation alleviated his concerns. "As Blake Whitmore's disciple now, the Society has opted to minimize contact with you temporarily to lower the risk of exposure. Unless an emergency arises, I won't be reaching out."
He immediately comprehended their strategy: allowing him to deepen his integration within the Association under Blake's guidance, positioning him as a sleeper agent to be activated at a pivotal moment. Inwardly, he sneered at the notion. Have they ever heard the adage about entrusting a wolf to shepherd the flock? he thought wryly. Though in this case, I'm not exactly the wolf... but they most certainly are the unwitting sheep.
On the surface, however, he maintained a facade of compliance and understanding. "I'll keep a low profile and stay under the radar," he assured her with a sigh. "No need to worry. If there's nothing else, I'll head back now."
Appreciating his apparent reasonableness, Misty offered no further commentary and simply nodded in agreement.
Upon returning home, Russell reflected on the materials bestowed by the Society, his mind turning to potential applications. Chief among them was the prospect of elevating Kiss-Shot Heart-Under-Blade to the silver level. Her advancement path was straightforward and well-defined, requiring only the infusion of additional strength and regeneration-enhancing materials to propel her forward. Of course, a not-insignificant motivator was his personal desire to... command a more formidable presence. After all, who wouldn't prefer piloting a larger, more powerful machine? he mused, the allure of amplified capabilities proving irresistible.
Thus, his primary objective crystallized: achieving promotion to the silver level without delay. He sensed that he was tantalizingly close to that breakthrough, the culmination of his efforts just within reach.
(End of this chapter)
Comments
Raphael Espinoza Angulo
I wonder at what level he will have really powerful powers.
KingSpy25i .
You group this chapter to the wrong novel collection.
