Genius Prismatic Mage

Chapter 2: The Boy on the Scrap Heap (2)

The rain, which had been falling in drops, turned into a downpour, hammering the world.

Swaaah—

All the filth in Sector 50 was being washed away. The accumulated grime on the old buildings, the bloodstains and dirt marks on the streets that couldn’t be erased. For a brief moment, even the sharp emotions harbored by the lowest of lives toward one another.

Gurgle. Gurgle.

The rainwater, now full of all kinds of filth, flowed into the sewers. From there, it drained into the Elton River, which cut through Sector 50. The river, winding through its course, split into several tributaries, one of which flowed to the lowest part of Sector 50. The tributary passed beneath a culvert and under the culvert, along the pedestrian pathways on either side. There was an old, battered tent.

“Wow, Ray, you made it just in time! You almost got completely soaked.”

As the boy with ash-gray hair entered the tent, another boy inside greeted him.

“Yeah, seems like the weather’s been acting strange lately.”

Ray brushed the water droplets off his clothes as he spoke. The blood that had splattered on him when he knocked Ron down had already been washed away.

Inside the tent, a faint lamp flickered. Around it, children of various ages had gathered. Ray found a spot and sat down.

Pale, the leader of the group, spoke to everyone.

“So, how did everyone do today?”

The children took the items they had in their arms and placed them in the center. Dirty coins and crumpled bills, cans and biscuits, vouchers for groceries from the local shop. These items glimmered faintly under the lamp.

They were the results of their efforts on the streets, where they worked as shoeshiners, newspaper sellers, and beggars, gathering money and food as best they could.

Ray also pulled out the items he had brought. The quantity was far greater than anything the other children had collected.

“Wow! Ray, you’re amazing!”

“You must’ve exchanged scrap with the Golem, right? Incredible. It won’t even take what I bring.”

Ray said nothing. Nobody but him knew that the Golem only accepted magical items with residual mana. After all, Ray was the only person in Sector 50 who could see mana. He didn’t bother to bring up the topic of mana. Through countless experiences, he had learned that being different usually brought disadvantages rather than benefits.

Pale spoke with admiration.

“Thanks to Ray, we’ll be able to stave off our hunger for a little while longer. I’ll put the money in the safe. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the grocery store to buy food. As for the food we’ve gathered, I’ll divide it now.”

Pale started distributing the food, beginning with the youngest. Realizing that there wasn’t enough to go around, Ray quietly stood up from his spot.

Plop.

He sat down at the entrance of the tent. The food was insufficient. It always had been. Scrap infused with flowing mana wasn’t easy to find either. He had to scour the area all day to gather enough for today’s supply of food.

Grrr.

A sound came from his stomach. Ray paid it no mind.

One of the most important things for a boy to survive in the slums was physical stature. It was more efficient for his younger siblings, who were still in their growth spurts, to replenish their nutrition than for him, whose growth had already mostly finished.

Not that it would improve their odds of survival by much. If they were lucky, they might end up as drug runners or cannon fodder for a third-rate gang.

Grrr.

Still, Ray believed it was his duty to support this group.

Because he owed them a debt of life.

-----

"Look over here! There's someone here!"

It had been a cold winter day. He’d collapsed while wandering the city, unaware that his feet had developed frostbite. These children had saved him as snow began to cover his body.

They carried him to the culvert, warmed his frozen body, and even treated his frostbite with some expensive medicine from who knows where.

‘I’d thought it wouldn’t be so bad to just die.’

Not that he had any particular reason to die.

But then again, he didn’t have any particular reason to desperately cling to life either.

And in that state, his life had been unintentionally prolonged.

-----

Ray had a few rules he’d established to adapt to human relationships, despite being incapable of feeling emotions.

Give back what you’ve received, whether it’s repayment or revenge.

That was why Ray had been supporting this group for nearly a year.

“……”

Ray turned his head slightly. The food distribution was still ongoing.

Colors of mana flickered and disappeared repeatedly within the children’s chests, as though playing hide and seek.

The second reason he supported this group.

He could observe others’ emotions up close.

Pale and the children exhibited more diverse emotional changes than anyone else he had ever met.

The sight of mana, rich and vivid in color, moving in response to their emotions brought Ray immense satisfaction. The movement of mana according to emotions. It was the one area Ray felt genuine interest and fascination in.

And also.

“Ray, don’t forget to take your share.”

These children didn’t treat him like a monster.

Ray turned to Pale, who had sat down next to him. Pale, the leader of the group. A boy the same age as him.

"Technically, you’re the one who brought in most of the food."

At first, he’d thought that was the reason. That they were treating him kindly because he contributed so much to their food supply but as he observed over time, he realized that wasn’t it.

Pale and the children treated him as a person. They just regarded him as a peculiar individual who was a bit dull when it came to emotions. They didn’t fear him or show signs of disgust.

Ray opened his mouth.

“I’m not hungry.”

Grrr.

“Your stomach says otherwise.”

“……”

He didn’t feel the suffering caused by hunger, but he couldn’t control the reactions of his organs.

Ray accepted the half biscuit Pale handed him. The two boys chewed on their biscuits as they gazed outside the tent.

Swaaah──

Pale suddenly asked, “Hey, Ray, did you know?”

“Know what?”

“The rain that’s falling right now.”

“It’s falling.”

“It’s black.”

“That’s true.”

“They say it’s because of all the magic the wizards are using.”

“……”

“They say wizards live in the lower-numbered sectors.”

Wizards, beings known to cause mysterious phenomena by using mana, however, it was no more than a rumor—no one in Sector 50 had ever actually seen a wizard.

Ray responded dryly, “That could be true.”

“I really believe wizards exist. Look at the Golem. It’s proof. Someone must’ve sent it, probably a wizard.”

“It might just be a machine.”

“No way. It’s definitely moving because of magic.”

Pale’s eyes sparkled.

Although Ray didn’t show it outwardly, he agreed with Pale’s words. When the Golem moved, the surrounding mana coiled into its core. There, it mixed and turned into black smoke that dissipated into the air.

‘Mana must be like its fuel.’

The Smoke rising into the sky and the black rain pouring down - it seemed likely that the two were connected.

For a moment, the conversation stopped amidst the sound of the rain. The two boys continued their meal, staring at the blurry scenery.

Swaaah──

“The rain’s letting up a little. Still coming down hard, though.”

Ray nodded.

As Pale had said, the rain had weakened somewhat, from a torrential downpour to heavy rain. The sun was setting, and darkness was creeping in.

It was the perfect condition for activity.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Pale shouted as he watched Ray pull out an old raincoat and put it on piece by piece.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Where are you off to now, with the rain coming down like this?”

“Keep an eye on the river. If it overflows past the railing, the tent will get flooded.”

Pulling up the zipper and tugging the hood firmly over his head, Ray stepped outside before Pale could stop him.

Swaaah─

The tent quickly disappeared behind him.

He climbed the riverbank and entered an alley.

Weaving through, he crossed a street at a brisk pace. No pedestrians were in sight. The shops had all closed early. The reason was simple, today was a black rain day.

There was a rumor that getting caught in this rain could make you sick.

It wasn’t entirely baseless.

People who worked outdoors in the rain for extended periods had been found dead, their organs blackened. Additionally, it wasn’t hard to spot patches of earth in Sector 50 that had turned black.

Thud— thud-thud-thud— thud-thud-thud!

The pitch-black raindrops relentlessly pelted against the raincoat.

The sound reminded Ray of the occasional gunfire that echoed through the streets during gang skirmishes.

Yet not a single drop of rain touched Ray’s face. A thin, blue-tinged barrier clung tightly to his body, shielding him.

In the air, there were hundreds of shades of mana. By pulling specific mana and mixing their colors, this kind of effect was possible.

He didn’t understand the precise mechanics. He could only say that it worked because he could do it.

Ray thought that this phenomenon was what people referred to as “magic.” Lost in thought, he quickened his pace, passing into a new street.

From Street 17 to Street 18.

Since the entire district had turned into a slum, there wasn’t much difference in scenery. The only distinction was the gang that occupied each street.

One was led by Niles, the black-haired leader. The other was controlled by Hector, the limping boss. They were the two largest factions that split Sector 50.

This was now Hector’s territory. Staying alert, Ray navigated through buildings, alleys, and overgrown shrubbery.

Before long, he reached the outskirts of the street. Descending a hill, he spotted two temporary buildings surrounded by a chain-link fence. They belonged to Hector’s gang. One was a food storage facility. The other was a guard post.

Ray knew that on rainy days, the guards always gathered in the post to gamble.

Following the fence with practiced ease, Ray crouched low in a thicket. He saw a break in the fence. It was just big enough for one person to slip through. Behind it stood the back wall of the food storage facility.

Ray reached out and began removing bricks from the wall one by one. This was the result of months of effort—he had been secretly applying a concrete solvent between the bricks.

Soon, a small hole appeared in the wall. Ray passed through the gap in the fence, then slipped through the hole in the wall to enter the building. Darkness engulfed him.

Fwoosh!

A small spark ignited above his hand. This was another type of magic Ray could use.

He had a few formulas for blending mana colors. With the right mixture, he could create small bursts of light or make tiny objects float in the air.

Some colors were harder to manage. For example, the red mana needed to create flames.

Ray mused to himself:

‘If I could learn to feel the emotions tied to red mana more clearly…’

Then maybe he could create a larger flame. After all, mana flowed toward emotions.

The tiny spark illuminated the shapes of the surrounding objects. Shelves lined both walls, stacked with boxes.

Ray went to the box in the farthest corner and took out a few large cans, tucking them into his coat.

‘This should be enough food to sustain the culvert family for the next day or two.’

‘Should I take a few more?’

As Ray debated, he shook his head. He couldn’t afford to be greedy. The risk of getting caught was too high.

Four items per trip. That was the safe amount he had confirmed through over a dozen previous attempts. The storage was restocked regularly, so as long as he only took small amounts, it wouldn’t raise suspicion.

It was then that he heard it.

Tat-tat-tat—

Footsteps pounding toward him.

Ray extinguished the flame in his hand and immediately twisted his body.

Whoosh—!

Something sharp sliced through the air, narrowly missing his face.

“What the hell? He dodged that?”

A voice followed the sound.

“You idiot, you couldn’t even catch that?”

“So, the rat stealing our food finally shows itself.”

It wasn’t just one voice. There were three people, members of Hector’s gang. It seemed they had been hiding behind the pillars and boxes.

Whoosh!

Ray continued moving, dodging the knives flying toward him like a snake. They were tracking his exact position. They must have been equipped with night-vision gear.

Ray had once seen Hector’s gang unloading a truck filled with advanced equipment. He understood what that meant.

‘War.’

Hector was preparing for war.

“What the hell? How is this kid dodging everything?”

“Swing it properly, you moron.”

“Damn it! Why don’t you try catching him, then?”

“It’s like he can see all our movements!”

The gang members’ voices echoed through the warehouse, tinged with frustration.

Whoosh—!

Ray dodged the knives with precise movements, as if he had measured the gaps.

At the same time, he raised his right elbow sharply and charged toward one of the gang members.

“Guhh!”

Clang!

The knife clattered to the floor.

Without hesitation, Ray moved toward the next target.

“This little bastard! He knows exactly where we are!”

Their guesses were accurate.

In the pitch-black darkness, Ray could see the mana glowing brightly within their bodies.

A red as vivid as blood.

A green reminiscent of a deep swamp.

‘They’re angry. And they’re panicking.’

Whoosh!

“Damn it! How the hell is he dodging?”

The mana flowed from the "vessels" in their chests, spread through their blood vessels, and circulated throughout their bodies.

By reading these flows, Ray could easily predict their next movements.

It served as a kind of night-vision for him.

“Urgh!”

Thud!

The difference in size and strength was nullified by skill.

All the gang members collapsed at Ray’s feet.

Ray hurried toward the hole in the wall, ready to escape the warehouse.

But then—

Crash—!

Screeech— Bang!

With a flash of lightning, the door burst open.

A long shadow stretched into the warehouse.

Someone was standing at the entrance.