Screee!

The Sentinel Hawk cried out.

Its piercing shriek rang far and wide, befitting the majesty of a beast hailed as prince of the skies.

Glossy feathers, talons sharp enough to never release prey, eyes keen and fierce—the dignity of a predator at the top of the food chain radiated through its whole body.

With wings spread wide, it looked satisfied with its own grandeur—

“Too noisy!”

—only to be scolded by Sage.

“No screaming indoors!”

Bang, bang, bang!

The next-door guests even pounded on the wall in protest.

It was noisy indeed, having a hawk shriek inside a hotel rather than a private home.

I remembered well the ordeal I suffered when it was caught being smuggled in.

In the end, only a bribe—the finest form of negotiation—resolved the matter with the manager.

But the foolish bird understood nothing of its master’s troubles, nor the rules of human society.

Screee!

“You—!”

The hawk beat its wings in defiance.

Sage’s response was magic.

Fwoosh!

Crackle!

Flames caught on its tail feathers, and the hawk flailed in panic.

Though the fire was quickly put out, that was enough to establish the pecking order.

The Sentinel Hawk drooped its head, sulking.

Watching all this unfold, I summed it up.

“…You’ve raised animals before?”

“There were plenty of strays and wild cats around. Different species, sure, but handling beasts is all the same.”

Her tone was casual, but steady—reassuringly strong.

Harsh surroundings had shaped her; despite her refined looks, she was a tomboy at heart.

I only hoped she wouldn’t act that way inside the Tower.

After putting the hawk in its place, Sage asked, “But really, are you going to keep it?”

“I became its master. So yes, I’ll raise it.”

“It’ll cause a lot of trouble. It stands out too much. And feeding it will cost a fortune.”

She spoke of it as though it were some stray pest.

The hawk, avoiding her unfriendly gaze, fluttered from its perch onto my shoulder.

“Well, I’ll just have to find a way.”

I stroked its feathers to calm it.

Clever and obedient—it was rather endearing.

Besides, it was one of the Druid’s relics.

I couldn’t discard it just because of a few inconveniences.

“…Don’t cause trouble when I’m not around.”

Despite acting like the senior, scolding it, Sage fussed over the hawk with nagging words.

Children really did like animals, it seemed.

I felt a little left out that she hadn’t warmed to me the same way.

“Got all your things packed?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It’s a great opportunity, so no whining—work hard.”

Once she left for the Tower, we’d be apart for a while.

After her basic training, she’d find more free time, but until then, she’d be buried in work.

“…Yes. I’ll do my best.”

Her voice quivered faintly.

“I know what a chance this is. I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”

She rubbed her eyes, then looked up at me with firm resolve.

For a moment, it was like a stray kitten I had picked up was finally opening its heart—

—but no, I wasn’t moved to tears.

“Well, just don’t overdo it.”

“…?”

“When it gets hard, take a break. Locking yourself away and clinging to what won’t work will only sour your temper.”

I recalled the future Sage—talented, yes, but sharp and irritable.

That wasn’t the mage I wanted her to become.

Her talent was undeniable. I only wished she’d grow with a gentle nature.

“Trust in your gift. Take it easy—you’ll be fine.”

“…!”

Her eyes glistened with emotion.

Riding the moment, I added the kind of nagging I’d held back, afraid of sounding overbearing.

There’d be hazing, of course—ignore it. You’re a genius. The jealousy of fools is just ugly envy.

If it becomes too much, tell Colin, or tell me. You don’t need to carry it alone. We’ll make it right.

Thankfully, she listened without complaint.

She really had been such a good kid.

The importance of one’s environment hit me hard.

“Then I’ll be off.”

She hesitated, eyes darting, before asking,

“Later… can I come see you? Not through the Tower’s messages, but in person?”

Clenching fists behind her back, she seemed to have gathered all her courage.

“Sending you to the Tower doesn’t make us strangers. I’ll give you my address—come anytime.”

“…!”

A future Tower Master candidate.

And if she wanted to visit me of her own will, I’d gladly welcome it.

Hearing my answer, Sage’s face brightened, and she left the room.

‘Finally, some space to myself.’

Two people had been crammed into one room.

I hadn’t shown it, but it had been inconvenient.

‘I’ll need to get a house ready for when she returns.’

I’d planned to leave the hotel and find a place of my own anyway.

Whether for guests or boarders, I needed something bigger.

‘With corporate contracts lined up, I’ll have the money.’

Big companies might be strict, but their pay was solid.

Enough for one adult, one teenager, and a pet bird.

“…But the problem is you.”

The hawk tilted its head, as if it knew.

“You stand out too much.”

For mercenary work, secrecy was everything.

Flashy fighting was a job for soldiers, not me.

In that, the hawk was poorly suited.

Hawks drew attention. Their cries were anything but discreet.

Still, it wasn’t useless—recon, scouting, combat support.

Compared to bumbling mercs, it more than pulled its weight.

“Can’t you get smaller somehow?”

If only it were small, I could manage.

It was a half-joking thought—

「The Sentinel Hawk transforms into a tattoo!」

The hawk melted like liquid, seeping into my body.

“…What?”

Tattoo transformation?

I pulled open my shirt—its image was etched on my chest.

The Sentinel Hawk’s form.

「The tattooed Sentinel Hawk’s stats are applied!」

「Vision enhanced!」

「Strength enhanced!」

「Some of the Hawk’s skills are shared with the player!」

「Tattoo transformation responds to will—activate or cancel at will!」

System messages flooded my sight.

I had only one thing to say.

“You could transform this whole time, but stayed put when Sage scolded you?”

The tattoo glimmered, as if sneering.

My suspicion—that it had kept silent just to spite her—was likely true.

The Tower was lofty.

For over a thousand years, it had endured harsh environments, growing from persecuted outcasts into a power that shook society.

That spirit defined its mages.

Knowing their own brilliance, they bowed to no noble.

On the contrary, they demanded respect.

After long negotiations, the city had conceded, granting some of them rank and privilege equal to nobles or councilors.

They were, to put it bluntly, a gathering of self-satisfied geniuses.

But even the Tower’s pride bent today.

Its mages whispered and stole glances at one child.

“Hmph.”

Colin strode proudly down the hall, chest out, as though basking in all the stares.

Trailing behind with quick steps, Sage asked, “…Why are they staring?”

“They’re watching the powerful.”

“The powerful?”

“This master of yours is quite the figure here in the Tower.”

“….”

The same shaggy hair, a beard barely trimmed, and rough features closer to a bandit’s.

In the refined society of mages—the pinnacle of intellect—could such an appearance ever win respect?

Sage pretended not to hear and let it slide.

“Ahem, well… truth is, it’s thanks to your guardian.”

Colin coughed awkwardly, admitting it honestly.

This time, she was curious.

“Why him?”

“Haven’t you heard what happened?”

“He only said things went well, that’s all.”

“Tsk, tsk. Hiding things like this makes it worse. He should brag himself so you’d feel proud of him.”

So Colin explained what had happened in the Tower.

Drawing on his years as a wanderer, he told the tale vividly, like a storyteller.

Sage’s eyes sparkled; she hung on every word.

“And that’s why they’re watching. Your guardian was that impressive—they must be wondering what kind of person you’ll turn out to be.”

It was remarkable that one man had caused such change.

The lofty dignity the Tower had always clung to was shattered.

For the free-spirited Juggernaut School head, it finally felt like a place that smelled of real people.

And since those who had rushed into a trial over nothing were the ones humiliated, it was satisfying too.

But not everything about it was good.

Colin’s tone turned heavy, shifting the mood entirely.

“From now on, much attention will follow you.”

It wasn’t advice but a prophecy—accurate and inevitable.

Sage herself would become the center of attention, uniting the Tower into one.

Geniuses from across the nation would keep their eyes on her.

No one would dare touch a School Head’s pupil, but the weight of all that expectation would press her down even harder.

“Keep your heart steady. That alone is enough. With your gift, you’ll overcome the burden and envy—”

“I know.”

Sage didn’t stop walking across the Tower.

Even beneath the crashing wave of stares, she kept her composure and poise.

“Allen already told me. I was prepared.”

“Good to hear. But it may be more than you imagine.”

“It’s fine.”

Allen’s words echoed in her mind, one by one.

“He told me I’m a genius.”

That was the solution.

Other people’s gazes didn’t matter.

She had only one person’s praise as her guidepost.

“So I’ll be fine.”

She would surpass every expectation.

The hazing, envy, and jealousy would soon turn into admiration.

“…Remarkable.”

Colin was genuinely impressed.

It wasn’t the baseless confidence of a frog in a well.

With that mindset alone, she already had all the makings of one who could conquer the Tower.

I visited Cromwell’s brokerage office.

The ceiling fan spun with a cool breeze.

With the windows sealed tight, the room had always been dark, but now it was bright for the first time in ages.

‘Was there always a leather sofa here?’

Looking around at leisure, the place felt completely different.

Almost unfamiliar.

When I sat down, instead of cold water, Cromwell served me mass-produced soju.

“Good hospitality today.”

“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’d treat you well.”

How long had it been since I drank?

The fiery burn down my throat was bracing.

Free, too—it tasted even sweeter.

As I smacked my lips, Cromwell placed a stack of papers before me.

“I’ve sorted contracts suited to you. As I said, all large corporate work. Take your pick.”

The texture of the paper was nothing like the public postings pinned to the corkboard.

I ran my fingers over the crisp sheets and skimmed the contents.

‘Blatantly obvious goals.’

The details varied, but all the objectives overlapped.

Corporate sabotage.

Whether success or failure, the social impact would be immense.

It made me wonder if the city’s security bureau did anything at all.

“Personally, I recommend Delight Conq’s request.”

Seeing me take my time, Cromwell offered a hint.

“…Delight Conq, wasn’t that a military company?”

The name was familiar.

As I hesitated, he shook his head.

“You must be mixing them up. Delight Conq is a golem manufacturer.”

Golems—magitech constructs, essentially robots.

In industry, they took on grueling tasks people couldn’t, and demand was high.

More expensive than workers, so the elite didn’t like them, but that was just circumstance.

Still, I was certain my memory wasn’t wrong.

‘They weaponize golems as combat robots.’

A secret project of Delight Conq.

Not just for industry, but for security—and war.

In the end, the research succeeded, and Delight Conq rose as the next great military company.

“Why recommend them?”

“I heard Mad House has taken the job.”

“…Mad House?”

“Yes, the Mad House you know.”

Even non-players of FP, even ordinary citizens, couldn’t be ignorant of that name.

Mad House.

A private strike force of retired war mercs, famed assassins, and wanted criminals.

Unlike mercenary groups, they weren’t bound by the city’s oversight.

They lorded over order itself.

Each one so dangerous that even the city government hesitated to touch them.

Rumors said if you ever met one in person, you should treat it as a natural disaster and resign yourself to death.

Even the government’s only policies toward them were not negotiation or suppression—only evacuation.

“They’re walking calamities. With Mad House on the job, success is practically guaranteed. It’ll be easy for you.”

Though infamous, their success rate was near perfect.

That was why companies, despite official condemnation, sheltered them, courted them, and made use of them.

If the intel was true, I could complete the contract without lifting a finger.

“I’ll think about it.”

“…Very well.”

Cromwell looked disappointed at my veiled refusal, but I knew.

It was a poisoned chalice.

And he knew it too—that’s why he didn’t press me again.

‘With my current strength, I can’t handle an incident if it turns.’

Perhaps one or two of them could be reasoned with.

But the rest were mad dogs, antisocial to the core.

Even if you flattered and groveled, they might suddenly decide to cut you down for fun.

Even ignoring the risk, the reason I spent so long sifting contracts wasn’t to weigh success odds.

“This one.”

Cromwell glanced over the chosen request and nodded.

“Sylvester’s job. Clearing out a gang on their new development site, eh?”

Sylvester—the so-called megacorp. Second only to one in Gellerg City’s corporate hierarchy.

If it was money I wanted, it was the perfect choice.

That’s what Cromwell thought.

‘But what matters is the location.’

Money was secondary.

Sylvester’s new development site—there was my real reason.

‘District 16 East. Otherwise called the Unchanging Swamp.’

In the Tower’s database, I had found mention of the Endless Spring.

‘It said the swamp formed because of that spring sinking the ground.’

Practically a legend. But the only lead pointed to District 16.

If it was true, the World Tree would respond.

There was no reason not to go.

(End of Chapter)