A young man in a crisp white modern-looking suit walked through the bustling streets of the capital, the afternoon sun glinting off his orange-tinted glasses. The interior of his jacket—visible at the slightly folded-up sleeves—was a dark shade of pink, matching perfectly with his dark pink tie held in place by a white tie clip bearing an elegant X symbol. A black undershirt completed the ensemble, and draped around his neck was a magic knight's cloak in the same dark pink shade, flapping behind him in the gentle breeze and marking him clearly as a member of the Coral Peacocks.
The man in question, Kenji, sighed deeply, sliding his hand through his white hair as he maintained his patrol route through the merchant district. His orange-tinted glasses did nothing to hide the profound boredom etched across his features.
Patrol duty. Fucking patrol duty.
It had been three months since his first mission as a Magic Knight, and he could say with absolute certainty: this shit was boring as hell.
In those three months, he'd done every mind-numbing job imaginable for a junior knight. There was that "epic showdown" with a group of slightly-larger-than-average boars that had lasted all of three seconds before he'd snapped them into unconsciousness. Guard duty at the Eastern gates, where he'd spent hours checking identifications and merchant documents to ensure the "safety of the capital"—as if any real threat would politely wait in line to show their papers.
The most exciting day of my entire time as a knight so far was catching a damn purse snatcher in the capital, Kenji thought bitterly. And oh boy, was that a thrilling five seconds of adrenaline.
He kicked a pebble down the street with more force than necessary.
I mean seriously, within like the first month of Asta and Yuno being Magic Knights in the anime, they were exploring dungeons and fighting other mages, having the time of their lives. And here I am, doing the magical equivalent of mall security.
Another deep sigh escaped him. Damn stupid brothers and their stupid protagonist luck.
The thought had crossed his mind more than once lately—just saying screw this Magic Knight business, grabbing Yuwei and the kids, and traveling the world. He'd never read the manga and the anime wasn't finished when he died, but everything must have worked out in the end, right? So it would probably be fine.
But then reality would set in.
It's too late for that now, he admitted to himself. If I up and leave, I can kiss all my trust points goodbye. I would be betraying everyone's trust, and then what? I'm some weak nobody traveling the world hoping I don't run into someone strong? He grimaced. Yeah, screw that.
Trying to find the silver lining, Kenji's thoughts drifted to the letters from home. Well, on the bright side, the money I'm sending back to the church is doing some good. Sister Lily wrote that they were able to expand the building, give the kids new rooms, and repair all the old damage.
That brought a small smile to his face, at least.
And even though it's been boring as hell, just walking around the capital as a Magic Knight has given me quite a bit of trust points.
As if to prove his point, a woman with three young children noticed him approaching. She smiled warmly and nodded respectfully in greeting as they passed. Kenji returned the gesture with a slight nod and a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Once they'd passed, he glanced down at his wrist where only he could see the glowing number: 16,459.
His smile became more genuine. Yeah, I guess it's not all bad. I've managed to get my reserves up to the very bottom of Grand Magic Knight levels. But his expression soured again. But damn, is my progress slowing down. If I don't start getting some large amounts of trust points, I'm gonna be stuck at this level forever.
He could feel it too—a pressure building at the edges of his consciousness, like his powers were straining against some invisible barrier. He was certain he'd make a breakthrough once he increased his levels a couple more ranks, unlock something new. But at this rate, that could take years.
Maybe I should have joined the Black Bulls after all, he thought for the hundredth time. At least they—
His musings cut off abruptly as his eyes caught movement in the shadows ahead.
A figure in a dark cloak, hood pulled low to hide their face, was moving quickly and deliberately through the crowd. Their body language screamed "trying not to be noticed," which of course made them stand out like a sore thumb to anyone actually paying attention.
Kenji's bored expression transformed into something predatory—a smile that would have made Yami proud.
"Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath. "Is my luck finally turning around?"
Snap.
In an instant, Kenji vanished from the street, leaving startled citizens looking around in confusion at the sudden disappearance of the Magic Knight who'd been there a moment before.
He reappeared on the roof of a nearby building, crouched low as he watched the cloaked figure slip into a narrow alley below. His orange-tinted glasses caught the afternoon light as he tracked their movement with the focus of a predator who'd finally spotted interesting prey after months of hunting pigeons.
Finally, he thought with genuine excitement. Something actually worth my attention.
He followed from above, moving silently from rooftop to rooftop as the figure wound their way through the increasingly run-down sections of the capital. The buildings here were less maintained, the streets narrower and darker. This was the commoner district—the part of the capital where most junior knights weren't allowed to patrol without a senior member supervising.
Oops, Kenji thought without an ounce of genuine concern. Guess I'm breaking protocol. How tragic.
After several minutes of tailing, the cloaked figure turned into a particularly dark alley in what had to be the lowest part of the capital. Kenji watched from his perch as they approached what appeared to be a solid stone wall.
And then walked straight through it.
Kenji's grin widened until it threatened to split his face.
"Oh, so this is where the black market's entrance is," he said aloud to no one, barely containing his laughter. "Haha, about time I found it!"
Without a second thought about his rank, his orders, or the fact that he was technically supposed to report this and wait for backup, Kenji jumped down from the roof. Mid-fall, he snapped his fingers.
His appearance shifted—white hair darkening to black, striking features mellowing to something more average and forgettable, his distinctive white suit transforming into plain commoner clothes. The pink cloak vanished entirely. By the time his feet hit the ground, he looked like any other random citizen of the capital.
Much better for blending in, he thought, approaching the seemingly solid wall. Without hesitation, he walked forward and—
—passed right through it like it wasn't there.
The sensation was odd, like pushing through a thin waterfall, and then he was through.
Kenji paused, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes.
"Holy shit."
The black market spread out before him like an underground city. The "street" was packed with people of all descriptions—merchants, thugs, nobles trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably, and everything in between. Gambling dens lined the thoroughfare, their doors open to reveal packed tables and the sounds of money changing hands. Down one street, he could see a red light district with women lounging in doorways—and were those witches?
Shops of every variety were set up along the sides, selling what were very obviously illegal magical items. Potions that glowed with suspicious colors, weapons that radiated dark mana, artifacts that looked like they'd been stolen from ancient tombs.
One shop in particular caught his eye—a grimoire dealer, their wares displayed openly in the window.
Kenji blinked. People buy other people's grimoires? What's even the point? They're literally magically bound to their original user.
He shook his head after a moment, forcing himself to focus. Right, right. Deal with the shady guy now, explore later. Priorities.
Scanning the crowd, he spotted the cloaked figure moving quickly deeper into the market, clearly familiar with the layout. Kenji followed at a discrete distance, carefully masking his mana presence as best he could. The crowds provided good cover, and his now-average appearance helped him blend in perfectly.
For about five minutes, they wound through the market. The cloaked figure moved with purpose, clearly heading somewhere specific. Finally, they stopped at a small shop that appeared to sell low-quality magical items—the kind of place that probably served as a front for something else.
The figure approached the shopkeeper, a grizzled man with sharp eyes who was clearly more than just a simple merchant.
Kenji stopped about thirty feet away, pretending to examine some questionable potions at a nearby stall while trying to listen. But the ambient noise of the market was too loud, and they were speaking in hushed tones.
Well, that won't do.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching him specifically, Kenji spotted a wanted poster plastered on the wall directly behind the shopkeeper.
Perfect.
Snap.
The world shifted slightly, and suddenly Kenji's consciousness was inhabiting the two-dimensional space of the poster itself. From this vantage point, he could see and hear everything happening at the shop counter while remaining completely undetected.
The cloaked figure leaned in close, and Kenji heard them say in a low voice: "The crystal mines run deeper than the Spade."
The shopkeeper responded without missing a beat: "And the ore flows south when spring comes."
Kenji had to physically restrain himself from laughing out loud. Oh my god, they're using code phrases. Actual, terrible code phrases like this is some kind of spy novel. This is amazing.
Both men nodded at each other, apparently satisfied with their dramatic secret handshake equivalent.
The shopkeeper's expression turned serious. "Were you followed?"
The cloaked figure responded in a harsh tone: "Would I be here if I was?"
The shopkeeper nodded, accepting this logic. "So what do you have? I assume you didn't come here with nothing."
The figure reached up and pulled back their hood, revealing an extremely ordinary-looking man with brown hair and tired eyes—the kind of face you'd forget five minutes after seeing it.
Guess that's the point, Kenji mused.
"I got something interesting," the man said, his voice carrying the weariness of someone who'd been running on stress and caffeine for too long. "It appears the leaf lovers will be shipping a large amount of supplies to the front lines. They're not transporting it with a spatial mage this time—not sure why."
Leaf lovers? Kenji thought. That's... actually kind of clever. Must mean the Clover Kingdom.
The shopkeeper leaned forward, interested. "When's the shipment?"
"Sometime in the next five days. Not sure which route they'll take—I had to leave before I could overhear that. Too risky to stay longer."
The shopkeeper nodded approvingly. "Good work. After this, you can return home to report to headquarters. Your mission's over."
Kenji's smile widened. Oh, this is perfect. A real actual spy. I finally hit it big!
Having heard enough, Kenji decided it was time to wrap this up.
Snap.
Both men suddenly found themselves pulled into the two-dimensional space of the poster, their three-dimensional bodies flattening and merging with the illustration. Their confused shouts were cut off as the world tilted ninety degrees.
Snap.
They both dropped to the floor, unconscious before they even realized what had happened.
Kenji emerged from the poster, returning to his normal three-dimensional form. He dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile.
"Too easy."
Walking over to the counter, he grabbed a cloth that was lying there.
Snap.
The cloth transformed into sturdy rope, and he quickly tied up both unconscious men with practiced efficiency.
"There we go," he muttered, standing back to admire his work. Both the spy and the shopkeeper were securely bound. "Now for the finishing touch."
He grabbed the wanted poster off the wall—now blank after he'd emerged from it.
Snap.
The two men's images appeared on the backside of the poster, now drawn in a stylized manner that made them look like cartoon villains. Underneath each image, Kenji added helpful labels in neat handwriting: "Diamond Kingdom Spy" and "Accomplice."
He folded the poster carefully and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket.
Mission accomplished, he thought with satisfaction. Now then...
Kenji began walking back toward the central part of the black market, a spring in his step that hadn't been there during his boring patrol.
Walking by a couple of people who witnessed him tying up the 2 men, Kenji nodded at them and talked right by them not bothering to explain what just happened.
"Well, that's enough work for today," he said to himself cheerfully. "Time to clock out and have some fun here. Hehe."
As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the implications of what he'd just captured. With this, I should at least rank up and get some more exciting missions, right? Maybe even get sent to the front lines to see Dorothy. I haven't seen her in like a month.
Then he shook his head firmly. Nope. I am officially off the clock. Who cares about all that right now? Let's go make some money—this four-leaf grimoire has to be good for something, right?
After a few minutes of walking and taking in the sights, Kenji found himself in the main gambling district of the black market. The sounds of dice rolling, cards shuffling, and money changing hands filled the air. The atmosphere was thick with cigarette smoke and the desperation of people who'd already lost more than they could afford.
Perfect.
He spotted a poker table with an open seat, the other players looking like a mix of merchants, thugs, and one person who was definitely trying too hard to look like they weren't a noble.
Kenji approached the table with confidence, pulling five silver coins from his pocket and placing them on the table with a soft clink. He nodded at the dealer—a woman with calculating eyes and quick hands—and took the empty seat.
"Mind if I join?" he asked with an easy smile.
The dealer looked him over, noting his plain clothes and average appearance. She shrugged. "Your money's as good as anyone's. Buy-in is two silver minimum."
"Perfect," Kenji said, settling into his chair and cracking his knuckles. "Deal me in."
As the cards were distributed, Kenji glanced at his hand and then at the other players. His smile widened slightly.