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The Dungeon Child
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fine

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fine

I stand in the middle of the parking lot, mind racing as I consider both options.

Allowing them all to die would result in a massive influx of mana. I could only imagine the things I could do with Theory and Thesis if I had that much. Everything I'd done up to this point would look like a parlor trick in comparison.

On the other hand, I could let them live, but what would I have to gain from that? I honestly couldn't think of any reasons that would outweigh the profit I'd acquire from their deaths.

Scratching absently at my jaw, I contemplate quietly. Theory speeds back from the truck with enough force to tear the back doors off their hinges but bends her legs in such a way that I barely feel it when she lands on my shoulder and scuttles under my shirt. Her presence is a comforting and grounding one, and I think about it a little more.

Aware of the toxic mana spreading throughout the school, I finally come to a conclusion.

In a matter of moments, the mana is absorbed into the school and reforms back into my own mana, just as it'd started. To my immense irritation, I'd thought of what the city would think about the situation. Several hundred dead people, barring two children. I don't know what sort of tests humanity has in this world, or if they'd be able to detect mana without assistance from someone like Richter or myself, but I'm not taking any chances.

Walking across the parking lot, I head around the wrecked vehicle and find Richter hastily casting something with his hands. A long cut is leaking blood through his forehead, and I can't help but feel some amount of satisfaction. "Hello, Richter."

He sees me and audibly growls. Instead of saying anything, he continues the spell, writing my mana into the ground with a bloodied finger.

Walking forward, I crouch in front of him and easily squash the spell before he can finish. It breaks apart in a spray of sparks, and his eyes widen. Despite his obvious shock, he still refuses to say anything.

Briefly examining the surrounding area, I ensure that nobody's coming, which is suspicious in and of itself. Surely someone heard the sound of the van getting destroyed? Whatever the case, I fold my legs and sit down in front of him. He starts scooting backward, channeling more mana into his hand.

"I thought you'd have been more of a challenge." I find myself slightly disappointed in Richter. No one likes to lose, least of all myself, but I still enjoyed some difficulty. I'd been expecting more from Richter. He'd described himself as the Plague of my home. He'd talked about how powerful he was.

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But after all that, all he'd really done was steal some mana and try to attack my school. Which I still hadn't forgiven him for, now that I thought about it.

Regardless, he seemed intelligent to an extent. "So, do you think anyone will miss you when you're dead?"

Finally, he snarls back, "Don't underestimate me."

I snort loudly. "I couldn't possibly."

His face screws up in fury, and he tries to get to his feet. "You're a child."

I clap mockingly, still unworried. "Correct. You're sharp as a marble."

Raising his hand, he conjures a spike of vibrant green magic, hands trembling as he tries to keep it together. "I'm going to kill you, Jason."

Theory erupts from my shirt and smashes into his ribs with a loud crunch, and he's thrown back down to his back, gasping for air. I throw my hands into the air with exasperation. "See? This is why you disappoint me. I was anticipating a formidable opponent, someone to whet my appetite against. Instead, I get this." I gesture to him in mild disgust. He can't really respond. Perhaps his ribs are broken. A warrior as dangerous as he claims he is and that's all he has to show for it? The only advantage he has over me is that he's an adult.

A third option suddenly presents itself, and I give Richter an involuntary smirk. "I have a deal for you, Richter. And you're not allowed to say no."

Gathering mana unto myself, I amble forward and place a hand on his forehead. Channeling it into a precise focus, I proceed to force my own brand of magic straight into his mind.

His eyes widen so far I can see bloodshot veins in the corners, and he starts convulsing uncontrollably. Ignoring it, I request Theory to pin him down, and she spreads a fine steel-strong web over him in a split second. With that issue out of the way, I drilled my mana further inward, my attempts at enthralling him going deeper and deeper.

His mind is much more complex than Charlie's, I'll give him that. But as more and more of my mana starts to sink into his psyche and his struggles slow, I wonder if perhaps the human race as a whole is somewhat overrated. I can move, yes, but as a core I was mentally unassailable.

Shaking my head in mild amusement as he falls still, I instruct Theory to remove the webbing and briefly fix him up. It's nothing too complex. A collapsed lung, several broken ribs, multiple contusions, and two Theory-shaped bruises on his torso.

I have a puppet I can use to assist me for whatever needs I might require adult supervision for now, and I bear no compunction towards enthralling a mind like Richter's. He'd stolen from me, after all. Surely that was worthy of some vengeance?

Waiting for him to stand up, I turn around and start heading for the school. "All right, Richter, let's get some things straight. You are not an opponent of any grade, nor an intellectual to be respected. You are, from this point on, an extremely convenient decoration."

I turn around happily, finding myself in a remarkably good mood. "Understand?"

There's a vicious smile on Richter's face as he aims one hand at me, a blinding flare of magic wrapped around it. In the fraction of a second during which I process it, I realize that I hadn't enthralled him at all. I'd only given him more mana than he could ever hope to steal.

He smirks at me. "I told you not to underestimate me."

He releases the wickedly sharp spike without hesitation, and I can only watch as it punches through my own chest.