Eduardo’s vintage car pulled into a certain low-end part of Grayfort City.
The streets here were narrower, the buildings older, and the paint on most of the walls was peeling. It wasn’t the slums, but it wasn’t far from it either.
He parked along the curb, stepped out, and adjusted his white gloves. Then he made his way down the cracked sidewalk until he reached a particular door.
He knocked three times.
There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps approaching followed.
The door opened to reveal a young lady, maybe in her mid-twenties, with brown hair tied back in a messy bun.
She wore a simple shirt and trousers, and her hands were stained with what looked like ink or chemical residue.
Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the old man in an obvious classy suit standing in front of her.
"Can I... help you?" she asked cautiously.
Eduardo smiled warmly. "Good afternoon. I’m looking for a Valerie Hemilton."
Her expression shifted immediately. "Not here," she said quickly, moving to close the door.
But Eduardo stopped it with a single finger, holding it open effortlessly. And by the way, that smile never left his face.
"Miss Valerie Hemilton," he said gently, "we need to talk."
—--
In a different part of the city, and within a certain basement that was mildly lit by a few hanging bulbs of yellow light.
Ethan had his hands tied behind his back on a chair with mana-dampening cuffs. His coat was on the floor beside him, and his head was faced down.
In front of him was Beatrice with a devious grin on her gace, holding a long stick that she kept hitting gently on her hands as she prepared to clobber Ethan with it.
Another feminine figure was talking to Wilson on the side. She had long dark hair, was dressed in men’s suit and looked like she was in her twenties.
"Be done with this quickly, Wilson, and get him out of here," she said in a firm tone.
Wilson nodded. "Soon, sister."
She then turned towards Beatrice, looked her up and down, then turned back to Wilson and said, "I expected you’d be better with your choice of women, but then again, men have always been stupid."
She turned away and walked upstairs into the main guild chambers from the basement.
Wilson turned towards Beatrice, who was still so fixated on Ethan, then sighed.
The female who had just spoken to Wilson was his elder sister, Maya Heydrich. And this basement they had brought Ethan to was directly under her guild.
Wilson had enlisted the help of his elder sister to do this.
The heydrich walked back towards Ethan right when his eyes had began opening. He looked drowsy at first, but it began to clear as he saw both Beatrice and Wilson standing in front of him.
Wilson didn’t say it, but some part of him was relieved Ethan was awake. Beatrice hadn’t been listening when he told her the substance within the syringe would knock out an elephant.
He also didn’t know Beatrice had carried it from her house the previous day until she stabbed Ethan on the neck with it. They had planned this kidnap at Wilson’s house the previous day.
A shot like that would’ve easily have killed a human, which is how Wilson had just discovered Ethan wasn’t a human.
"So he was a hybrid hiding his nature then?" he thought to himself. Only hybrids could do that, to appear like humans when they weren’t.
Beatrice’s devious smirk widened as she said, "Oh, you’re awake now. Good, good. I’ll need you to be awake to feel all this pain."
Ethan’s orientation was still coming back up, but he was already beginning to realize the situation he was in. He had been kidnapped by the couple before him.
Wilson pulled his coat off and started adjusting his shirt upwards, in preparation to give Ethan a good beating.
Ethan said nothing as he stared Beatrice in the face. His first attempt to get free of his binding was by attempting to cast magic, but the purple circle glowed above his hand for a bit before going back off.
Beatrice chuckled. "Don’t bother trying to cast your Fireball, Ethan. The cuffs on you have enough zaranite stones to restrain even a caster of Tier 5 spells."
Ethan had already realized the effect was dampening his attempt to weave mana inside of him to cast spells. So it had to be due to this zaranite Beatrice had just mentioned.
Then he chuckled a bit as he thought to himself, "I bet you only just learned what zaranites are, Beatrice."
I mean, he too had just learned that, to be fair, but he couldn’t help but laugh at her display of trying to sound smart. He however didn’t say his thoughts because given his situation, his life was practically in their hands.
That smile unnerved Beatrice a bit. Why was he laughing? Right then Wilson walked over and gave him a punch that forced his face to the side. Ethan couldn’t help but spit blood out.
"So what’s this supposed to be? You’re going to kill me because I called quits on being your man?" Ethan finally spoke.
"I told you, Ethan, you don’t mess with a Morgenstein and walk away," Beatrice said with a devious smirk. "But aw, don’t worry. I won’t kill you, but you will feel ten times the hurt I felt that night."
"And you know what? I don’t need this." She flung the stick away and instead made her claws sprout out instantly. "I will do it myself."
She walked over and swung her right hand downwards, carving five claw scars through Ethan’s face.
Ethan grunted out in pain as his head tilted to the side. But almost immediately, it seemed as though vapor poured out of the wound while the scars sealed up.
Both Beatrice and Wilson’s eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you do that..." Beatrice muttered, taking one step backward while staring at his now-healed face.
Wilson’d expression shifted from shock to suspicion, wondering about the same thing.
Beatrice’s face contorted with confusion and anger. "That’s not possible! You shouldn’t be able to do that!"
However, her voice had faded into the background for Ethan, who was trying to calculate a way out of this mess.
To be exact, ever since gaining back his senses from the shot.
He could try to borrow Albedo’s teleportation and leave, but there were two things hindering that.
The first problem was the cuffs on him. They dampened his ability to cast any sort of magic. Not even summoning would take root, he already tried that.
The second problem was the basement he was in. There were no direct escape routes from here, not even a window.
So even if he didn’t have the cuffs restricting him, he couldn’t see any place of safety he’d be teleporting away to, except the walls of this basement.
There was also another issue.
He didn’t need enhanced hearing to know that right above him were sounds of not just one or two but multiple persons, and he could tell each of them had a certain mana presence.
Beatrice moved again and swung her claws at him. It scarred him, then quickly healed. She said again in astonishment, "How is this even possible?"
Wilson went in with another punch that forced his face to the other side.
While all these happened back and forth, Ethan had realized one thing. The effect of the mana-dampening cuffs were most likely based off a certain mana limit.
And this was from what Beatrice had said.
She had specifically mentioned that even a caster who could cast Tier 5 spells wouldn’t break it. Which meant it would be able to constrict the mana of a caster with talent level at A.
Of course they had used this on him, given Beatrice thought he was still a caster with only B talent level.
In this world, unless you had reawakened as a Grand Caster, your talent level determined your mana size as a regular caster.
But how then would this unfold for someone whose mana was literally infinite?
Ethan, as one with infinite mana, could power everything in Charvis that required mana as a source.
So the real question became, would these measly cuffs really hold one who could power the world?
And the answer to that question put a smile on his lips.