Chapter 281: A Better Solution
After watching the group from the K.G.C.C leave, Steven stepped out from around the corner.
There was no sign of the devastating black hole he'd just caused moments ago—he didn't look like a terrifying knight of calamity. Instead, he appeared more like an ordinary tourist casually passing through.
Well, technically speaking, he is here as a tourist.
"The setup should be just about done. If I go at them again, I bet the K.G.C.C will start playing their real trump cards. Maybe I'll even get to see a few of those Major champions from previous years…"
Steven cast a glance at the towering skyscraper in the distance.
The K.G.C.C's headquarters was without a doubt the most futuristic and extravagant building in the city.
But in his eyes, the only thing it exuded was the stench of exploitation.
That skyscraper must've cost a fortune to build, huh?
If he brought it down, would those suits cry over it?
As that chaotic thought crossed his mind, Steven rubbed his hands together, unable to suppress a flicker of excitement.
He'd already stirred up enough attention around the Major. The rest was easy. Whether it was shattering the public's fantasy of the tournament or exposing the K.G.C.C's dirty secrets, either could be done without much effort.
Honestly, it was too easy. Beat up the former champions they trot out to defend their reputation, crush everyone the K.G.C.C sends to stop him… rinse and repeat.
But even if he pulled that off—if he stripped the K.G.C.C of its honor and shattered the illusion of the Major—would it really be enough to shake the K.G.C.C's hold over Kazimierz?
Sure, he could ruin their image, maybe even force them to cancel the tournaments altogether. But so what?
He couldn't extinguish these people's hunger for capital. He couldn't change the ambitions deeply rooted in Kazimierz's society.
No Major? Fine. They'd just invent something else. Caster duels. Warrior brawls. Whatever filled the stands and sold tickets. So long as there was a market, the cycle would never end.
Of course, he could choose to walk away from it all. Let them destroy themselves, if that's what they wanted.
Or—if he really wanted to go nuclear—he could just bring the entire Grand Knight Territory and the K.G.C.C down in one blow.
If Kazimierz became a fallen nation, maybe then, just maybe, its people would stop obsessing over this madness.
Oddly enough… that option felt easier.
But then he remembered Nearl's face—that proud expression when she talked about knights.
He thought of people like Zofia and Viviana, who still clung to the idea of what knights should be. Noble. Righteous. Inspiring.
And at that moment, he hesitated.
Maybe… maybe there is something worth saving here.
After all, hadn't he once dreamed of becoming a knight too?
Sure, his version leaned more toward riding a white steed to whisk away a noble princess, but still—wasn't it the same dream?
What man hadn't fantasized about being a knight? Anyone who said otherwise was just straight up lying.
So maybe, just maybe—for his own dream, if nothing else—he could try changing Kazimierz.
Not from the surface.
Not through destruction.
But from the ground up.
From the roots.
Just like the K.G.C.C itself—as long as it had "commerce" in the name, that meant one thing was certain:
They'd never turn down a deal.
With a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Steven, who had already planned out their downfall, calmly took out his phone and dialed a number marked with the name Kal'tsit.
"…"
"I hadn't even gotten around to contacting you, and you're already calling me first?"
Kal'tsit's voice came through the comms once again—cool and aloof, as usual. But this time, there was something else hiding beneath the chill… a hint of complaint.
Steven chuckled. "What? I'm not allowed to say I missed you?"
He tossed out the line as casually as teasing an old friend, shattering the lingering tension in the air with a playful grin.
"Let's skip the jokes," Kal'tsit replied flatly. "You're not the type to call without a reason. What is it this time?"
She knew Steven too well.
A guy like him taking the initiative to reach out? That was the kind of thing that only happened when the sun rose from the west.
Knowing full well her impression of him wasn't exactly glowing, Kal'tsit had never tried to reach out herself.
With people like Steven, if you wanted a real connection, you had to let him come to you.
"Well, since you put it that way, I'll get straight to the point. I'm calling because I need your help to find someone."
"Oh?" Kal'tsit raised an eyebrow, even if Steven couldn't see it. "You? Needing me to find someone? That's new."
It is strange. A guy like Steven, with his ridiculous access and unpredictable powers, usually didn't need help tracking people down.
"It's not like I can't find them," Steven replied, scratching his head. "It's just a bit of a hassle. Besides, that individual did say that if I ever wanted to contact them, I could just go through you."
Of course, if he wanted to, he could locate just about anyone with a single command thanks to his TP. But using it would cost him precious points—points he really didn't want to waste.
So why not go with the cheaper method?
"…Alright. So who are you looking for?"
Kal'tsit was even more intrigued now. If someone that important told Steven to come to her directly, they were probably no ordinary person.
Steven gave a sheepish grin.
"Well… to be precise, I'm not looking for a person. I'm looking for a duck."
Kal'tsit fell silent.
A duck?
Steven's thoughts drifted back to that moment in Iberia, after he'd finished negotiating with Carmen over how to split the profits from their black-market potato trade. That was when it suddenly appeared in front of him—wearing a full suit and tie, no less.
A duck.
A talking duck.
At the time, if it weren't for the fact that the duck didn't have a familiar red ribbon on its head, Steven might've mistaken it for someone's shameful mascot brought to life.
But that title floating above its head—[Beast Lord]—made one thing very clear.
This was no ordinary duck.
Unfortunately, he had been busy dealing with the Church of the Deep back then and didn't get a chance to talk much. Still, there was one thing the duck had said that stuck with him:
"As long as you want to make a deal—and you've got the chips to back it up—there's nothing in this world that can't be traded with me."
And from what he could tell, the duck hadn't been lying.
In fact, he could sense it—on some strange, metaphysical level—that duck really could trade for just about anything.
Steven didn't know where exactly that duck got its confidence from, but considering its title of "Beast Lord" and the strange aura it carried—one that felt suspiciously like some kind of admin privilege in a video game—he was inclined to believe it.
"A duck? Don't tell me… you mean the Duck Lord from Columbia?"
As expected, the moment he vaguely described the species, Kal'tsit immediately connected the dots. Not only did she name the duck, she even casually revealed where he was.
But instead of solving the mystery, her curiosity only deepened.
How did Steven, of all people, get involved with that guy?
Those beings with "authority"—immortal, detached, and bizarre as they were—lived entirely by their own whims. If something didn't interest them, they wouldn't even spare a glance, let alone make contact.
So for Steven to specifically ask for the Duck Lord…
"There's only one reason you'd want to find him," Kal'tsit muttered, frowning slightly. "You're trying to make a deal, aren't you?"
The Duck Lord didn't bother with petty trades. If the rumors were true, and if this so-called Beast Lord did hold dominion over economic authority, then any trade he took seriously would have to be something big. Nation-shaking big.
Just how many secrets was Steven still hiding?
Kal'tsit already suspected that he had some kind of clandestine connection with the Inquisition—but this? This went way beyond that. If the Duck Lord was taking him seriously, things were far deeper than she thought.
"Something like that," Steven said, nonchalantly. "He told me himself that if I ever wanted to do business, I should reach out to you. You two close or something?"
He scratched his head.
A duck that was on good terms with a cat-girl doctor… yeah, the mental image was a little weird.
"We're not close, exactly," Kal'tsit replied after a short pause. "But yes, I do have a way to contact him. If he was the one who told you that, then I'll help you make the connection."
Kal'tsit quickly shelved her curiosity.
Whatever kind of trade Steven intended to make with the Duck Lord—it had nothing to do with her.
At most, she was just acting as an intermediary, a role she had long accepted in dealing with these eccentric Beast Lords.
"Perfect," Steven said. "He should be able to come to the Kazimierz Grand Knight Territory, right? Flying all the way to Columbia would be a bit of a hassle."
Given how the duck had just popped up out of nowhere in Iberia, Steven figured he probably had teleportation powers—or something close. It wouldn't make sense otherwise.
"I'll speak to him," Kal'tsit replied. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "But there's something else. Can I ask you a question?"
Her tone suddenly sharpened, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"…What? You, asking me a question?" Steven blinked in surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be the all-knowing one here? Well, sure. Ask away. I'll decide whether I feel like answering."
Truth be told, he was kind of curious. It wasn't every day that Kal'tsit wanted something from him. And besides, she had just agreed to help him, so turning her down now would've been a bad look.
"I only want to know one thing," Kal'tsit said slowly. "The strange knight that's been appearing in recent Kazimierz newspapers… the one in the Majors—was that you?"
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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