Retire 479
by Cristae479 Territory War (1)
I still don’t understand Henry Lehmann.
The information Daniel provided was about Henry Lehmann’s movements—his upbringing, education, work history, criminal record, social connections, residence, and family…
A person’s entire life laid out in print before my eyes.
But that only told me what he’d done with his life, not why he’d made those choices.
The Henry Lehmann recorded in those documents was ordinary. Even after moving to a foreign country with his parents, there was nothing remarkable about him. His high school grades were average. The same for college. Barely scraping by, he eventually dropped out and survived by bouncing from one part-time job to another.
Some might call him pathetic. Others might say youthful wandering is valuable.
I don’t know how Henry Lehmann judged himself. But at some point, as he struggled to get by, he vanished from civilized society. His address disappeared, he stopped showing up for work. No hospital visits, no credit card records.
As if he’d evaporated from the face of the earth.
And then, suddenly, his name blazed across the world—as the boss of a notorious gang.
Henry Lehmann became a problem for many. The number of countries issuing warrants for him exceeded the fingers on one hand. That’s why even Imiseon, despite it being outside her jurisdiction, was able to obtain information about him. He was just that infamous.
But none of that explained what kind of person Henry Lehmann was. No one knew why an unremarkable man turned to crime, or how he became the boss of a criminal organization feared across America and the continent. Was he just a psychopath, or was there some original motive that led him into crime?
Maybe the U.S. had some official assessment of their own criminal. I know there are agencies that do that sort of thing.
But Daniel never shared that part with us, and we never pressed. After all, we had someone who’d met Henry Lehmann personally.
‘Noah’s easy to read, but Henry… hmm, he’s more like an animal than a person?’
Hope seemed genuinely at a loss when it came to Lehmann.
‘He’s more obedient than Noah, but that doesn’t mean he’s actually docile. You know what he did to me, right?’
Hope snorted openly.
‘I thought I’d faint when Master told me that story. Me, what? The boss of the Ark?’
Since becoming human, if nothing else, Hope’s emotions and expressiveness had grown. He scowled and grumbled.
‘So all those annoying requests he kept making were because of that. See? If you let your guard down, he’s always plotting to stab you in the back. How could I possibly like him?’
A capricious child and a calculating animal.
It was a wonder the organization even held together. I’m tired of saying it, but it’s also a bit humiliating. My father and sister, brought low by people like this…
Maybe after ten more years, even people like them could become ruthless villains with no blood or tears.
But after seeing Henry Lehmann in Busan—if you could call what I saw “seeing” him—I did start to question Hope’s assessment.
Surely he didn’t mean Lehmann was like an animal just because he could change his body that way?
Well, of course not. I know I tend to judge Hope a bit harshly, but he’s not that clueless.
Lehmann, like Sam Bloom, had replaced parts of his body through some process, but the last time Hope saw him, he hadn’t changed that much.
Did he start moving in earnest as soon as Hope was out of the way?
It’s only natural that, once the most troublesome member is gone, the rest start fighting among themselves. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, but after the enemy is gone, you can hardly call them friends.
And so, finally, Noah Michel made his move, and the result was…
“Why? Aren’t you curious what Noah’s up to?”
Lehmann grinned.
He bared a mouthful of impossibly sharp, crowded teeth. His right hand was Haley Lawton’s, but the other could hardly be called a hand anymore—bone and muscle bulged, claws flexed menacingly.
Coarse white feathers jutted out, and beneath the sparse plumage, scales gleamed like a snake’s. It was unsettlingly inhuman, yet too close to human to be called a monster.
Standing on that ambiguous border, Henry Lehmann smiled with a childlike innocence—so different from Hope’s assessment.
“Aren’t you curious where Noah is?”
So bright.
“Aren’t you curious what Noah’s doing?”
So innocent.
“Aren’t you curious how Noah opened the gate?”
So cruel.
Unlike Michel, who had to hide his true nature when speaking with us, Lehmann had no such constraints. Michel, thrilled to meet a fellow archmage, couldn’t sit still for a moment, as if to prove that hating humans and loving high-level magical discussion were two separate things.
But Henry Lehmann was different.
At least, he was nothing like the outwardly calm Michel. Gray-streaked white hair, golden eyes, scales and feathers glinting here and there.
Despite his bizarre appearance, every word he uttered was calculated down to the breath. Unlike Michel, who, unable to contain his excitement, spoke to Kim Chaemin in a high, delighted voice.
“I can tell you everything.”
“How generous of you.”
It was Father who cut Lehmann off.
He stepped forward, his hand naturally resting on Kim Chaemin’s shoulder, gently pulling him back. The spear slung across his shoulder looked relaxed, but that didn’t mean Father was letting his guard down.
A tension as taut as a thread about to snap filled the air.
“You’re curious about Noah, aren’t you? But I can’t just give it away for free. I’m very thorough when it comes to business. That’s how it works—if you do favors for every familiar face, you end up with nothing but losses.”
“Michel must be quite the headache for you to say that.”
“……”
Lehmann fell silent. The smile froze on his lips. His sharp teeth vanished behind his lips, but his face only grew more menacing.
“There’s a lot of worry in France. No body’s turned up, so of course they’re concerned. Even if there was a body, it would have been a big deal. A terrorist who killed an archmage.”
Father spoke in an easy tone, at odds with the weight of his words.
“But a terrorist who kidnapped an archmage is worse than one who killed one. Kidnapping is always harder than murder.”
Father chuckled as if he’d told a great joke.
…It was impossible to tell if he was joking or not.
Regardless, he was right.
Lehmann had brought up Noah Michel to provoke us, but in doing so, he’d only revealed how much trouble the French archmage was causing him.
I knew Father had come to America, but to think he’d missed the fact that Kim Chaemin was here as well.
If Michel wanted to make things difficult for Lehmann, he’d certainly succeeded.
So then.
“That’s true,” Lehmann said, nodding and grinning.
“Who would have thought that proud, troublesome woman would go so far as to stage a spectacle just to catch me? Even if she succeeds in killing me, what’s her plan for the aftermath…?”
Lehmann shook his head, but his words and actions remained light.
“This is why you can’t trust girls who grew up too sheltered.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“They think everything can be solved with a word. But there are things in this world that just can’t be done.”
“For example?”
“Who knows?”
Lehmann spread his claws and grinned.
“You haven’t killed me yet, have you?”
“That’s not impossible.”
“Ah, sharp answer. But there’s no guarantee you’ll succeed. This is a game with a time limit.”
“Doesn’t seem particularly favorable for you.”
“Haha. But it’s the same for Noah.”
Lehmann laughed merrily.
Given the Ark’s already fractured relationships, I doubted they were just pretending to be enemies to fool us.
Let’s remember. From the start, these people threw each other to Father to be killed. The latest victim had just fled across the city.
But…
I examined Henry Lehmann—the Henry Lehmann who had somehow seized and replaced Haley Lawton’s body.
Haley Lawton? Luise Kruger?
Whichever, nothing of her remained but that slender hand. Even the brief trace of mana I’d seen in the Cactus Mirage office was now completely gone.
All that was left was a violent mana that belonged neither to human nor monster.
White? No, gray. Pale gray. Mana drifting like dust, pooling like mist on the ground.
It neither floated nor settled. The mana clung around Lehmann like fog. Even when Kim Chaemin tried to disrupt it, it didn’t budge. If anything, Kim Chaemin’s mana wavered.
Mana unaffected by the external environment. And Lehmann wasn’t even a mage.
Then again, the magic that moved the wooden doll in Busan had been Michel’s. Now that they were at odds, the doll had been replaced by a human, but Lehmann must have used a similar method to appear here—meaning, in some way, he had stolen Michel’s magic.
Did Luise Kruger help? Even to the point of giving up her own body?
“This world is really fascinating. You never know how things will turn out. That’s why I keep changing things. It’s fun. Truly.”
“At least someone’s having fun. I’m not.”
“Do you know why?”
Lehmann bared his teeth again, a growl rumbling from between them like a beast.
“Because you’re losing.”
“Losing?”
“The winner always enjoys the game.”
Boom!
The location was bad.
When fighting a humanoid monster, too many people can be a hindrance. The area you can attack is limited, and if people of similar size all rush in, they just get in each other’s way.
Especially if they’re not skilled enough to join the fight.
Han Taekyung had withdrawn early on. He was helping Daniel and the police evacuate civilians. The damage increased once Lehmann appeared. Kim Chaemin and I were doing our best to contain it, but it was impossible to prevent all casualties. Even though this was a plaza, it was surrounded by hotels and tourist attractions.
If only we were in a desert, Father could fight without restraint—just like Lehmann, who didn’t care if people died and only sought to cause maximum destruction.
“Mr. Woo, listen carefully.”
“Yes?”
Our movements were restricted too. If we’d had more space, I could have helped Father fight Lehmann properly…
“Whatever magic Lehmann is using, it’ll break soon.”
Kim Chaemin spoke through clenched teeth, frustration clear in his voice.
“That’s our chance.”
“What do I need to do?”
“We’re going to strike Lehmann’s true body directly.”