Chapter 62
Before I knew it, Alperen’s eyes were sparkling—as if he’d just been waiting for me to say that.
“Really?”
“Yeah. We’ve done enough here that Julia can’t complain anymore.”
His gaze drifted coldly toward the Zenus booth.
From the look on his face, I could tell Julia had roped him into something earlier.
Feeling that familiar sense of camaraderie—both of us her victims—I saw no reason to turn him down.
Taking his hand, I said,
“Running away sounds good, but dressed like that? You’d get caught within a hundred meters.”
“Think so?”
“Uh, yeah. You’re basically a peacock in full courtship display right now. You’d stand out from across the square.”
Alperen paused as if thinking it over—then grinned.
“In that case, it won’t be a problem.”
He wasn’t kidding.
The next thing I knew, I was being pulled along by a giant bear mascot.
Inside the plush bear suit was Alperen, his large hand wrapped firmly around mine.
From the outside, we looked like two volunteers promoting their booth, passing out flyers.
This was his “solution” when I’d pointed out that he needed to cover his face.
Staring up at the bear’s blank, dopey expression, I muttered with a sigh,
“Isn’t that hot?”
“Deli, sometimes I think you forget I’m not an ordinary person.”
Oh. Right. He was a magician.
And not just any magician—the Tower Master. Adjusting the temperature inside a mascot suit was child’s play for him.
“Still… like this, I don’t know if I’m on a date with Alperen or a bear.”
“Sorry about that.”
Well, it wasn’t like we had much choice. Ten minutes earlier, he’d tried walking around normally and ended up being chased by half the Lilith Club.
“How about we just leave the festival entirely?” he suggested.
“No way. It’s my first time at a club fair. I want to see it all.”
It sounded like a casual excuse, but the truth was—I didn’t trust Magia not to cause trouble. I wanted to keep watch.
And thanks to that, Alperen was stuck in a bear costume, drawing starlit stares from passing children.
One little kid met his gaze, so Alperen conjured a balloon out of thin air and handed it over.
“Wow!”
The child’s eyes sparkled.
“It’s a magic bear!”
They thought it was just sleight of hand.
But that one cry of excitement drew more children in, wide-eyed and curious.
So much for being inconspicuous. Even with his face covered, Alperen’s presence was impossible to hide.
Soon he was surrounded, flustered, looking at me for help.
And then—
Boom!
A deafening explosion ripped through the fairground. Smoke curled up in the distance.
I didn’t need to check twice to know the source.
It came from the row of booths where Magia and Zenus were.
“Ren!”
Fear spiked in my chest. Alperen shoved past the children and swept me into his arms.
He bolted, his strides eating up the distance.
“Whoa! The magic bear kidnapped a princess!”
The children squealed and chased after us, seeing it as part of some show.
Great. Now we were dragging a parade of spectators behind us.
“Can’t you do something about them?!” I shouted.
Alperen glanced back—and suddenly a flurry of shimmering soap bubbles filled the air.
“Ooooh, bubbles!”
The kids forgot all about us in an instant, darting after the floating orbs.
Freed of our entourage, Alperen sped straight toward the smoke.
***
Twenty minutes earlier.
Dragged back to the booth by Sierra, Edwin slouched lazily in his chair.
With no customers in his line after his earlier disasters, he chewed idly on a leaf, glaring at the world.
That’s when a toad-faced man appeared and sat across from him.
A customer, apparently—but Edwin couldn’t care less.
The man set a cage on the table, inside of which crouched a chameleon.
He kept glancing around nervously.
Edwin sat up slightly, eyes narrowing.
“So? What do you want me to ask it?”
The man twitched at Edwin’s rude tone, but forced a smile.
“Ask it where it hid its eggs. It laid some, and now they’re missing. If we don’t find them, they might die.”
It almost sounded like he was concerned for his pet. But Edwin knew instantly—this man wasn’t the chameleon’s owner.
Because from the moment it arrived, the chameleon had been staring at Edwin, silently pleading.
[Please, get me out of here. He locked me up and took me from my eggs! He’s trying to steal them!]
Edwin touched the cage. His eyes hardened.
This wasn’t just any cage—it was a magical restraint designed for rare creatures.
Which meant the chameleon inside was a magical beast.
“Ha. Do you even realize where you are, pulling this stunt?”
Magical beasts were rare. Sometimes they hatched in areas rich with natural mana.
If discovered by the Tower, they were protected.
But more often, traffickers found them first—tearing them from their habitats, selling them as “collectibles.”
They rarely lived more than three years in captivity.
This one wasn’t in bad shape yet, meaning it had only recently been taken.
Edwin had heard of unregistered beast traffickers like this. But to show up here, at Magia’s booth, of all places? Bold.
Clearly, the man thought a fledgling club like theirs would be easy to exploit.
Most magicians avoided beast-speech magic because of its poor efficiency.
But Edwin and Glaster had studied it out of love for magical creatures.
And now this man dared—
Edwin’s eyes went icy cold.
Glaster, noticing his friend’s tension, asked nervously,
“What’s wrong, Edwin?”
“I’ve had enough.”
Edwin’s fist clenched. He looked ready to beat the man bloody.
Panicking, Glaster grabbed him by the waist.
“W-wait, he’s still a customer! You can’t just—”
Mustering rare courage, Glaster tried to hold him back.
But Edwin only shoved the cage into Glaster’s arms.
“See for yourself.”
Glaster peeked inside—and froze.
“…You’re right. He’s no customer.”
Edwin jabbed a finger toward the man, his voice low.
“Still want to stop me?”
It was shockingly uncharacteristic—almost as if Edwin were asking permission.
Normally he would’ve already swung. But because this was an official club event, he was holding back.
If Sierra had been asked, she would have told them to let it go.
Because logically, if this man were really a trafficker, he wouldn’t waste time idly chatting here.
But logic meant nothing when it came to these two and magical creatures.
Glaster’s lips trembled as he whispered,
“Edwin, do you even have to ask?”
Then, with fire in his eyes, he stood.
Normally shy and meek, Glaster only ever turned vicious when confronted with cruelty toward magical beasts.
Seeing him rise, Sierra called out casually,
“Huh? Taking a break already?”
She had no idea it was her last chance to stop them.
Because the next second, Glaster clutched the cage to his chest, pointed at the man, and bellowed,
“Like hell I’ll stop you! Go, Magia’s watchdog! Tear that criminal to shreds and erase him from this world!”
His fury burst like a dragon’s roar.
Edwin smirked.
“Roger.”
The man spun on his heel, trying to flee. Too late.
Edwin’s magic slammed into his back.
Only then did Sierra realize what was happening. She grabbed her head and screamed,
“You absolute maniacs!!!”
***
By the time I arrived, the chaos was in full swing.
Sierra was bowing frantically to the city guards who had rushed over at the sound of the explosion.
“I’m so, so sorry!”
Behind her stood Glaster, clutching the cage to his chest like a treasure, and Edwin—shackled, snarling, shouting indignantly.
And on the ground lay a charred blackened figure, smoking like a piece of coal.
For a terrifying second I thought he might be dead.
But then he coughed, sputtering, and the guards helped him to his feet.
Alive. Barely.
