I Became the Narrow-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss - Chapter 107

Chapter 107- Request (2)

A mage tower that Kynemon wanted to see completely destroyed?

What was he talking about?

I recalled Kynemon’s personal history. Though I didn’t have a wide circle of friends, it wasn’t that I had no interest in the few I did have. Kynemon had once been the heir to a regional mage tower—a position of some power—until the day a Dark Mage Tower coveted the unique magic developed by his tower.

Then came the all-too-familiar tale. The local mage tower couldn’t stand against the tyranny of the Dark Mage faction. Kynemon’s tower was absorbed, and he was forced to live in exile, becoming a fixer.

So…

Was he really asking me to wipe a mage tower off the map?

I fought the urge to massage my temples. There was this odd tendency among people from my fixer days to vastly overestimate my abilities.

Did they truly believe I could walk straight into a mage tower and annihilate everyone? I wasn’t some ninja who could suddenly appear and slash my way through hordes of enemies. In fact, I wasn’t exactly built for head-on battles.

“Kynemon.”

I couldn’t outright refuse his request—after all, Carisia had promised to reward him. However, now wasn’t the best time to approve a plan to topple the Dark Mage Tower.

The risk was too high.

Sure, it was possible. If we left Etna City’s affairs to the directors and Carisia and I went on a business trip to handle this…

But what happens when the Dark Mage Tower collapses? Would we be able to redirect the blame to someone else, like Argyreon or other organizations, while dodging the ever-watchful eyes of Panoptes?

The timing just wasn’t right.

So what I needed to do now was—

“Let’s look at this from a different angle.”

—negotiate.

***

Kynemon’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Different angle?”

He wanted to wipe his enemies off the face of the earth. What more straightforward, satisfying form of revenge could there be?

Orthes’ smile deepened.

“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. You’ve heard that saying, haven’t you?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Kynemon, your family’s mage tower is still in their hands, isn’t it?”

Kynemon gave a slow nod. Even after hiding away in his hometown, trying to live quietly, rumors about the city’s rulers had reached his ears. It was impossible not to know.

“How many years has it been?”

“What?”

“How many years since they took your tower?”

Kynemon began counting the years. From the day he had fled, hiding his identity, until now—it had been nearly two decades.

“Eighteen years. What does that have to do with what I asked for?”

“Isn’t it a waste?”

“A waste?”

The question spilled from Kynemon’s lips in pure confusion. A waste of what?

Flashes of memory surged up—the early days when Orthes had first started to make a name for himself. His cryptic questions had always left people puzzled at first, but eventually, the answers had come to light.

“Don’t listen to the purple sparrow’s orders.”

“What kind of nonsense—get lost.”

Back then, many had dismissed Orthes’ words, but those who did… ended up dead.

“The purple sparrow…” It was an inscription on an ancient ruin’s stone wall. People had followed the instructions carved into it, believing it was a way to escape, but it had been a trap.

The chilling part? The carving of the sparrow had long since faded after millennia. Its colors had weathered away until all that remained was a dull gray bird. It was only through intense investigation that experts found traces of purple pigments—suggesting that the bird might have once been purple.

This must be another one of Orthes’ cryptic questions. Kynemon felt a mixture of fear and excitement—the kind of tension that had always accompanied his dealings with Orthes.

He feared Orthes, yet he couldn’t forget the glory of their joint expeditions into the extra-dimensional ruins, where they had never failed.

To Kynemon, Orthes was both destruction and triumph wrapped in one.

“If that’s the reward you seek…”

Orthes lowered his voice, the tone causing an automatic spike in tension. The faint blue glow under Orthes’ slitted eyes was like a flame that lured a moth to its doom.

“It will only take one night.”

“…”

The short time frame didn’t surprise Kynemon—he had always believed Orthes was capable of such feats. What confused him was the use of the word “only.” What did he mean by “only one night”?

“Eighteen years of suffering for you. And their fall will take only one night. It’s hardly fair, is it?”

“You…”

Now Kynemon was starting to understand.

The saying “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth” finally made sense.

“Rather than destroy the Dark Mage Tower, wouldn’t it be far more satisfying to hold it in your hands?”

Kynemon was speechless. The clues had pointed him toward this possibility, but to hear Orthes so casually suggest handing him the reins to one of the most powerful mage towers?

Kynemon swallowed repeatedly, overwhelmed by the proposition. And then Orthes’ quiet voice continued to pour poison into his ears.

“Eighteen years—6,480 days of hardship for you. Meanwhile, their collapse would only take a single day. So, isn’t it only fair…”

Kynemon’s body trembled with an unholy thrill as Orthes’ voice lowered even further.

“…that they suffer through just as much as you did?”

“As much as I’ve suffered…”

“What do you think would be their greatest humiliation? Being ruled by the very heir of the tower they once destroyed—seeing the power they thought was absolute turned against them.”

If the devil’s temptation existed, it would sound like this. Kynemon felt an overwhelming urge to grasp Orthes’ outstretched hand, his sinister nature momentarily forgotten.

No… It wasn’t forgotten.

Something deep inside was urging him to ignore the madness that accompanied Orthes’ plans.

Kynemon was afraid, not just of Orthes, but of how he was drawn to this temptation despite knowing what it entailed.

But…

“Is it possible?”

The rage he had buried long ago began to resurface. The resentment he had carried ever since fleeing from Orthes clung to him like a shadow.

“It will take longer than a single night, but…”

Orthes smiled and nodded.

Perfect! He’s hooked.

Watching Kynemon grapple with his conflicting emotions, I felt a slight twinge of guilt. My old friend was a pragmatic leader, as I’d known from our days running fixer crews together.

Even if he managed to take over the Dark Mage Tower, Kynemon wouldn’t act as some tyrant. In fact, there was a good chance he would cut out the rotten parts and run the place properly—though that outcome was far from the bloodthirsty revenge he had originally envisioned.

Still, right now, I had other priorities—Carisia’s mission came first.

Sure, wiping out a mage tower would feel satisfying, but installing a friend as its leader? That was a much more lucrative move. I felt bad for slipping in a cost-benefit analysis into my friend’s heartfelt revenge request, but this was the best outcome for everyone involved, right?

Finally, Kynemon nodded as if he had made up his mind.

“…There’s something I need to know.”

“Anything.”

“How long would I have?”

Ah. Kynemon was asking how long he could stay as the head of the Dark Mage Tower.

Carisia wasn’t concerned with anything beyond the fall of the White Light Tower. I could promise Kynemon a lifetime appointment as tower master, and it wouldn’t bother her at all—especially since this was related to the Divine Investigation project.

Still, making such promises on the spot might earn me a scolding later.

“As long as the President wills it.”

***

Kynemon wavered once more. Strangely enough, Orthes genuinely seemed to be serving his President with sincerity.

“Are you really the type to follow someone else’s orders?”

From his conversation with Lampades the previous night, Kynemon knew that the friendship between Orthes and Carisia wasn’t just for show, but it was still hard to believe.

Had the faceless Orthes ever bowed to anyone like this?

Despite the provocative question, Orthes’ smile only deepened.

“Come on now, Kynemon. What employee doesn’t look out for their boss?”

“It’s funny to hear that from you. I never thought anyone could be your boss…”

“Well, if they’re providing meals and a salary, that makes them a good boss, right? And Madam Carisia makes sure I’m well taken care of.”

The notion that someone plotting the end of the world was concerned about something as trivial as meals and wages—what a strange irony.

The end of the world…

Kynemon pondered the time limit implied by Orthes’ words.

“So, until the world ends, then…”

Orthes raised a brow but didn’t dwell on it. He knew Carisia well enough to trust that she wouldn’t revoke anything she’d given away unless it was necessary. If anything, she was generous in that way.

Guess she’s meticulous about payroll. Kynemon has no idea she’s giving him a lifetime guarantee.

Although Orthes felt a slight annoyance at the thought of his friend trying to swindle the President,

he quickly brushed it aside. After all, Kynemon’s upcoming role was vital to Hydra Corp’s future.

He decided to give his friend one last push in the right direction.

“Yes, you’ve understood perfectly.”

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