After sending her message, Yvette stood by the Lorn River and waited for a moment. To her surprise, the first response she received was from Hans.
He didn’t reply with a text but instead sent a very shocked and excited voice call: “Damn it, Miss Mage, you’re not dead!”
“I encountered some things and had to go into hiding for a while,” Yvette replied.
“Oh, I see!”
Additionally, she sent a voice message, transferring 50,000 credits as a token of gratitude for Yvette’s help during Regel’s reporting incident. It seemed she had learned from some unknown sources about how Yvette had spent money to reduce her husband’s sentence and how she had secured a harsher judgment for Gos Groni.
That was quite unexpected. Yvette paused for a moment before accepting her gratitude but declined the 50,000 credits.
For Mrs. Susan, who lived by setting up stalls while supporting two children in school, 50,000 credits were indeed a considerable amount; the sentiment was appreciated, but the money was unnecessary.
Yvette then inquired about Hans and Mary and learned that the two children were attending a boarding school. Although it was far from the Black Tower Academy, if they excelled in their studies, it would line up perfectly with Regel Hoffman’s release, giving him and Susan the chance to send their children to the Black Tower University to reunite with old classmates.
So, she crafted a similar excuse for Rosalyn and, knowing how busy Mrs. Susan would be, actively concluded the conversation.
…
Stowing away the holographic projection from her ring with a pleasant mood, Yvette departed the riverbank, walking toward a bar on Black Street.
Although she now had nearly 450,000 credits to start with, she didn’t intend to abandon her aspirations in the mercenary business.
Selling restricted spells might seem easy and tempting, but it was not a business that could scale. Once her name became known, the risk of drawing unwanted attention increased immensely.
On the other hand, the mercenary business was entirely different. In most nations of the origin civilization, including the New Eden United States, mercenary work was a legitimate profession, often facilitated by legal platforms for accepting contracts. Occasionally, even police departments would delegate some assignments linked to gangs.
Moreover, since this dream might only last three months, it left her with limited time. Besides being a mercenary, she had no faster means of making money.
“If the dream is continuous, then establishing a mercenary identity from the start might prove useful in subsequent entries…” she muttered to herself.
Pushing open the door to the bar called “Floating Light,” she was greeted with a gentle melody flowing through the air, a stark contrast to the blaring music of other bars. Yvette had done her research online and knew this place was also a point for posting mercenary contracts, so she wasn’t surprised.
She sat down at the bar. A young bartender in formal black attire, evidently in his twenties, approached her with a knowing look. “Little girl, are you sure you’re not in the wrong place? Minors aren’t allowed to drink, but you can order other beverages.”
“One mixed coconut juice, please,” Yvette replied calmly. When the bartender prepared the drink, she didn’t pick it up with her hands. Instead, she used her wind magic to levitate the cup to her lips, taking a gentle sip before silently placing it down.
The bartender’s eyes shifted – after noticing the magical ring on the silver-haired girl’s hand, specifically the “Black Tower S3,” his tone shifted from flippant to serious: “Miss Mage, are you… taking orders?”
In the realm of origin civilization, mercenaries generally sought contracts through online channels. These often employed technical support from eight major super companies within their respective power spheres. One party would submit an order, while another would accept it, effectively completing the contract and allowing transactions that appeared entirely legitimate—similar to hiring a private investigator.
Yet, it was rarely that straightforward. Many contracts were indeed illegal; you certainly wouldn’t be able to post an order online asking mercenaries to kill someone. The next day, the police would come knocking at your door.
Thus, parties typically negotiated details offline first, then simply used an excuse for the online transaction to leverage the platform as a safeguard for both sides. If the contract failed within the stipulated timeframe, regular deposit refunds could also be arranged.
It was in places like Floating Light that this role truly shone. They often published gray contracts for others, striking a deal with specific mercenaries while finding some excuse to shop online and manage business transactions as intermediaries.
“You can call me ‘Nameless.’”
Yvette shared her registered nickname on the mercenary platform, saying, “I just arrived in Agash and want to find some contracts. I understand that Floating Light offers this service.”
“I see.” The bartender nodded. “Well then, Miss Nameless, let me introduce myself—my name is Carter, and I’m the intermediary here at Floating Light.”
Once Yvette nodded in acknowledgment, he continued, “Now, Miss Nameless, what’s your mercenary account, and how many points do you have?”
On the platform, transaction amounts would convert to mercenary points at a rate of one-tenth of a percent. For example, completing a contract worth 1 million credits would grant 100 points. This system, alongside completion rates, allowed some measure of competence to be inferred from a mercenary.
After Yvette provided her account information, Carter immediately searched it up, revealing a perplexed expression: “Miss Mage, are you sure you’re not joking with me…?”
He had just pulled up the “Nameless” mercenary account—brand new, registered that very day, with no information available. How could he evaluate her? If it weren’t for the fact that the young mage had showcased her prowess, he might have dismissed her entirely. Newbie mercenaries like her, coming in to pursue gray contracts instead of building a legitimate portfolio, could damage Carter’s reputation as a professional intermediary.
“I can pay a substantial deposit, over 100,000,” Yvette insisted.
“Um… Miss Mage, it’s not that simple.” Carter sighed. “As intermediaries, we prioritize our reputation and completion rates. Even if you can pay a deposit, it won’t impact the value of completed missions; clients don’t contract out to earn deposits… understand?”
Yvette fell silent for a moment before asking, “Do you have any long-standing contracts that are hard to fulfill?”
Carter immediately understood the silver-haired girl’s intent—she was looking for contracts that had been open for a long time yet remained untouched due to low payouts or high payoff risks, providing her an opportunity to prove her capabilities.
That was indeed a clever idea. The issue was that those contracts had been sitting stagnant for ages, and mercenaries were well aware of how troublesome those jobs could be; even if they failed, it wouldn’t tarnish the intermediary’s reputation…
“Well, I actually have one such contract, but I fear you might hesitate once you hear about it,” he mused, an amused smile forming on his lips, seemingly looking forward to her reaction.
“Tell me,” Yvette said, her voice devoid of emotion.
“You must have heard of the ‘Werewolf Killer,’ right? That notorious serial killer who has shocked the whole of Agash, currently carrying a bounty of 1 million credits for his capture by the AJSP last month.” Carter said.
Yvette knew nothing about that but nodded slightly, prompting him to continue.
“A certain brave female journalist wants to uncover the true identity of that Werewolf Killer. Being fearful of drawing his attention, she put out a contract, seeking someone to act as her bodyguard during the investigation. The pay is 50,000 credits, lasting five days, with the possibility of extension at 20,000 per day afterward.”
Carter clicked his tongue, adding, “The pay is low, and the risk is high. Who knows what level the Werewolf Killer is at? Hardly anyone wants to take it; if it goes unresolved for another two days, it will become void. If you’re confident, go be that journalist’s bodyguard. If you manage to take down the Werewolf Killer, you might also earn the 1 million bounty. What do you think? Do you have the guts?”
“I’ll take it; just send the transaction details to the mercenary platform.”
“…Really?”
Carter was slightly taken aback; her acceptance had been too smooth. He even doubted he had misheard. But seeing the calmness in the silver-haired girl’s eyes and her demeanor seemed to have an alluring magic that made him subconsciously comply.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but think of the promotional pamphlet of the notorious cult “Spirit Sect,” which enumerated the necessary conditions for generating a “vengeful spirit.” He couldn’t help but mutter, “I’ve said all I needed to. If you happen to die, don’t come back as a ghost to find me…”