Chapter 70 - Seventy
---
"I really don’t understand why I have to follow you."
Anton’s voice carried more resignation than protest.
"The rationale is glaringly apparent to anyone willing to engage in rudimentary cognition—unless, of course, that is an unreasonable expectation."
Michael’s tone was clinical, detached.
"Woah. Why the big words?"
Anton blinked.
Michael stared at him, shrugged, then continued walking without answering.
Anton fell into step behind him, hands sliding into his pockets.
"Merry go round, round goes the merry—"
He whistled the tune cheerfully, eyes tracking Michael’s rigid shoulders.
Michael’s pace increased. Subtle. Deliberate.
Anton’s grin widened.
"London Bridge is falling down, falling down—"
He switched songs, voice lilting with false innocence.
Michael walked faster.
Anton stopped singing.
His smile didn’t fade.
---
"Where the fuck is your guild HQ?"
Anton’s patience had worn thin.
"How would I know?" Michael’s reply was clipped, irritated. "And it’s not my guild. Shouldn’t you know?"
"I do know." Anton gestured vaguely at the surrounding streets. "But you’ve been walking like you know where we’re going."
"You bastard—" Michael spun on his heel, fingers closing around Anton’s collar. "It was your singing that annoyed me."
"Let me go, you disrespectful brat."
Anton’s hand shot up, gripping Michael’s collar in turn. He yanked their faces closer.
"Watch your mouth, you old bat."
Michael’s eyes narrowed.
"Move back. Do you want to kiss me?"
"Release your hand from my collar."
Michael’s voice dropped, dangerous.
"No. You move your face."
Anton’s smile turned sharp. He leaned in.
"I just might kiss you, then."
Michael recoiled, hands rising as a barrier between them.
"Hey. Stop that."
"Heh." Anton released him, stepping back with a victorious smirk. "You don’t test the sexuality of a four-thousand-year-old man."
Michael blinked.
Several times.
"Weird."
He shook his head, muttering under his breath.
"Are you married couples?"
The voice sounded thoroughly bewildered—like someone who’d stumbled onto a situation they very much did not understand.
Both men turned.
A young man with striking silver hair leaned casually against the wall, metallic grey eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
A few people would recognize him as the character who’d appeared Chapters earlier.
"Why are you listening in on people’s conversations?"
Anton’s tone sharpened, defensive.
"I mean no harm." The young man shrugged, pushing off the wall. "You’re on my guild’s premises."
"Hendrick."
Michael’s voice cut through, smooth and pleasant.
A small smile touched his lips.
"Oh?" Hendrick’s brow lifted. "You know me?"
His tone shifted—intrigued, wary.
"How fascinating."
"You don’t remember me?" Michael pressed a hand to his chest, expression twisting in mock agony. "How touching."
As his head rose, he vanished.
Reappeared behind Hendrick.
His hand settled on Hendrick’s shoulder—light, controlled.
"Have you forgotten your place, rat?"
Michael’s grip tightened.
Hendrick’s knees buckled. He hit the ground hard, breath hissing through clenched teeth.
"Young master?"
His voice was strained, uncertain.
"’Young’?"
Michael’s tone was ice.
"Master."
Hendrick corrected himself immediately.
"So you’re a bully."
Anton walked over, hands still in his pockets, tone conversational.
Hendrick’s eyes flicked toward him—confusion warring with fear. He waited for Michael to lash out at the stranger’s casual disrespect.
"Meh." Michael released his grip, stepping back with a careless shrug. "It’s not really bullying when you’re just confirming the natural order of things."
"I thought you’d grown stronger."
"Everyone’s weak when compared to you."
Anton’s voice was flat, exasperated.
"Heh."
What’s going on?
How is he talking to Master like that?
Hendrick’s mind couldn’t reconcile it—this stranger’s easy rapport with someone who’d broken him years ago.
"Why’s he acting like you don’t have friends?" Anton crouched beside Hendrick, extending a hand. "And you say you didn’t bully him."
"It’s fear." Michael’s smile was thin, humorless. "It clouds judgment. He forgot the simple fact that before I trained him, I had ’friends.’"
"I wonder what you did to him." Anton pulled Hendrick to his feet. "And what he did to deserve it."
"A genius who thought the young master was unworthy of his position because of his presumed uselessness." Michael’s tone remained light, conversational. "I just had to teach him the difference in our existence."
He paused.
"And my father instructed me to shut him up. The others were trying to use him to stir up nonsense."
"Ahh." Anton laughed, clapping Hendrick’s shoulder. "The young master of young masters."
He leaned closer.
"Lead us to the guild. We’re looking for an ugly-looking girl."
"If, after getting his ass handed to him, he’d been as spiteful as you—" Michael smirked. "—he would’ve been a more interesting toy."
I need to leave.
I thought I had escaped.
Hendrick turned without a word, walking toward the building ahead.
"You frightened him." Anton’s smile widened. "Now he’s going to look for an ugly-looking girl."
He cupped his hands around his mouth, calling after Hendrick’s retreating back.
"Hey! Her name is Yeon. Don’t tell her I called her ugly!"
Hendrick disappeared through the entrance.
"The building’s not that impressive."
Anton turned his head toward Michael.
"What are you thinking about? Are you trying to leave the group to rule this shabby guild?"
"’Rule’ is a harsh word."
"Well, you already have their leader on a leash."
"So you know him."
Michael’s smile returned.
"Of course." Anton shrugged. "Hendrick was quite famous around five years ago. The top talent of Ameriga."
"Yes. He left for the Tower after he reached S-Rank."
"That’s an issue of the past." Michael was already moving toward the entrance. "Should we head inside?"
The question was rhetorical.
---
"I wonder how he went from S-Rank to SSS-Rank in five years."
Anton’s voice echoed faintly in the vast interior.
The building was far grander inside than its exterior suggested—hundreds of people moving across multiple floors that shouldn’t exist based on the structure’s outer dimensions.
They sat in the branch leader’s office.
Hendrick’s office.
"He must have been given stat potions." Michael leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "After I tamed him, his relevance faded. The people who wanted to use him backed off after seeing his newfound uselessness."
"So he was pushed to this position." Anton nodded slowly. "A position that fits him. He’s a genius—stronger than the normal intake on this floor."
"Very Michael-esque."
Anton’s smile was sharp.
"We’ve talked more than we should, haven’t we?"
Michael’s tone shifted—lighter, almost teasing.
"Bah. Who wants to talk to a bully?"
At that moment, the door opened.
"Oh. It’s you."
Yeon burst into the room, then stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowing.
"Tch. It’s you."
Anton turned his head away from her.
"Hello."
Michael waved cheerfully.
"What do you want?"
Yeon crossed the room, dropping into a chair with deliberate casualness.
"Who would want something from you?"
Anton’s head remained turned while he spoke.
"The boys want you back."
Michael’s smile didn’t waver.
"That’s edgy."
Yeon’s tone was dry.
"We’ve begun our trials." Michael gestured vaguely. "Well, not ’we’—so the boys asked us to inform you. And to tell you to come with us."
He paused.
"It’s time to get the group back together. And it’s time for you to begin your trials."
"You talk like a mob boss."
"And who says I haven’t begun my trials?"
Yeon’s smile was sharp.
Anton shot Michael an accusatory look.
Michael shrugged.
"I thought you hadn’t started. I was mistaken. So what?"
"Well, I have." Yeon leaned back, crossing her arms. "And I’m doing my fourth trial."
"Fourth?" Michael’s brow lifted. "You’re on the third floor."
"Moron."
Yeon smirked.
"Let me enlighten you. The third to tenth floors are simply one whole world. Completing a trial doesn’t take you up a floor—it’s basically the same, with the exception of special floors like the first and second."
Michael returned the stare Anton had given him earlier.
"That’s news to me."
Anton raised his hands defensively.
"Well, maybe not news. But it’s still new to me."
Michael and Yeon both deadpanned.
"I’m a four-thousand-odd-year-old man." Anton’s voice took on an exaggerated dignity. "It’s normal for me to have memory loss. Or even not notice things. I’m old."
"Old bat."
Yeon snickered.
"Fuck you."
"That’s vulgar." Yeon stood, rolling up her sleeve. "You don’t say that to a lady."
"’Lady’?"
Anton’s tone dripped exaggerated disbelief.
"I’m a lady, you fool."
Yeon stepped forward, fist raised.
"Okay, let’s stop right here." Michael stepped between them, hands raised. "No fighting."
He turned to Anton, grinning.
"I believe the boys would like to see Yeon mop the floor with you."
"Tch."
"So, Yeon—" Michael’s tone returned to pleasant. "—are you coming with us?"
"I’ll find you guys myself." Yeon lowered her fist, expression softening slightly. "I’ve yet to start my fourth trial officially, so I can make time for you boys. But I have to settle my team first."
"I believe our work here is done."
Michael clapped his hands together.
"See ya."
He waved.
"Yeah. Send my regards to the boys."
"Are you their mum?"
Anton sneered.
"Aigoo—"
Yeon raised her hand to strike.
"I’m their big sister." Her voice softened. "Well, with the exception of Zeke."
"Ohhh, lovers~"
Anton’s grin turned wicked.
"Zeke and Yeon, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—"
He bolted from the room.
"Bakayarō, konoyarō!"
Yeon’s shout echoed from the top floor.
"You’ve pissed her off."
Michael laughed as they ran from the building.
"Meh."
Anton shrugged.
---
’Who even are these students?’
{ At least you only have ten students. }
’Ten is a lot.’
{ How much money you got? }
’A lot.’
{ How many problems you got? }
’A lot.’
"Okay, that’s enough."
Zeke cut off the karaoke session with Zero.
"I’m moving to the staff meeting." He stood, stretching. "I wonder how the other fools are doing."
{ Probably fine. They don’t have you to lead them astray. }
"I don’t lead people astray." Zeke smirked. "I give them ashtrays."
---
"Registering for this shit was annoying."
Aaron groaned, collapsing onto the nearest surface.
"I’m going to sleep on my bed, and nobody’s waking me up."
Kai joined in, voice muffled.
"Nobody?" Jude raised a brow. "What about food?"
"Other than food." Kai sat up slightly. "I am hungry."
He nodded.
"Mm."
Jude and Aaron nodded in synchronized agreement.
"There’s actually nothing to do here."
Aaron’s voice was flat, resigned.
"We’ll have to wait on Zeke." Jude’s tone held quiet certainty. "He’s the maestro of chaos."
"Mm."
The group nodded.