How to Live as a Knight After the Ending

A fixer was a freelancer, and that meant a life of freedom.

In other words, it was also a life like a floating reed with nowhere to lean on.

The fixer industry is fierce.

While it's Tirna's long-standing tradition to advocate pure meritocracy, the fixer industry where only skill matters was particularly extreme in this regard.

Those lacking in skill could build connections, rely on luck, or even resort to any means necessary.

There were many fixers who barely scraped by doing all sorts of miscellaneous jobs.

That's why fixers were very sensitive to "requests" given to them.

Only with requests could they make a living, and those requests were the measure proving their worth.

For this reason, requests were inseparable from fixers.

Meeting Ronan was, in a way, nothing short of divine providence for Osian.

Of course, even without Ronan, Osian would have stood out as a fixer.

After all, his power would never fade no matter where he went.

But most fixers weren't like that.

They had to roll in the mud to survive.

Betrayal was everyday life, and distrust was the armor that protected them.

A free life? Unbound by anything?

That was just an illusion. All beings living in this world are destined to live with their own shackles.

However, in an industry teeming with those desperately trying to survive without any romance even the fixers crawling at the bottom harbored a certain pride in one corner of their hearts.

That's what requests meant to fixers.

Their own value.

The essence of their existence.

'And Basilio is offering such a request to me so easily.'

When one fixer passes a request to another fixer, it carries great significance.

Of course, Basilio is a special-grade fixer, and being among the top in the industry, he could probably get more requests if he wanted to.

For someone like him, throwing one such request might be nothing but even considering that, his action was undeniably radical.

You could tell just by how surprised the other members around were.

"Uncle. Are you serious?"

Seren widened her eyes in disbelief.

Even Mist gave a look that suggested this was absurd.

"Why? Would you prefer if this was a joke?"

"No, normally people don't even joke about such things."

"Well, that's true. But I'm being serious."

"Uncle!"

At Seren's shout, Basilio shook his head.

"I may be old, but my ears haven't aged. Oh? Come to think of it, that's quite an interesting wordplay!"

"......"

"Alright, alright. Please stop glaring at me with such a scary face. This old man's heart might shrivel up."

Basilio cleared his throat awkwardly and added an explanation.

"I wasn't going to perform this request in the first place. I came back this time because I need rest."

"Then you could have just rejected it."

"That was my initial thought too, but seeing how the city's been running lately, it felt different. An intuition that I should accept it? Something like that."

Intuition? Did he commit such a reckless act based on something so uncertain?

Osian observed the reactions of the Violet Fox members.

'No one points out that part.'

That means Basilio must have done similar things before and the results must have flowed according to his mentioned intuition.

'Intuition. As a fixer who has survived long in the industry, it wouldn't be strange if his senses were exceptionally developed in that way.'

Then passing the request to him must also be an action based on such intuition.

Perhaps reading Osian's concerns, Basilio quickly spoke up.

"Ah, I hope you're not offended by my mention of intuition?"

"Who could dislike being evaluated, even through intuition, by someone called a legend in the industry?"

"Well, well. Having a young man butter up this old man, I'm quite grateful."

"However, since you mentioned intuition, I'll take a similar approach."

Basilio stared at Osian with eyes asking what that meant.

"I too will rely on my intuition about whether to accept this request or not."

"Hooh."

Basilio seemed quite interested in this bold challenge from his much junior colleague.

Even veteran fixers freeze up with tension when facing Basilio.

Rather, the more skilled they are, the more they know that the aura Basilio gives off is not ordinary but Osian was the first person to treat him normally despite knowing this.

In fact, this aspect was what greatly caught Basilio's interest in the first place.

"So, what does your intuition say? Does it dismiss the words of the man before you?"

Instead of answering, Osian stared intently at the envelope Basilio had held out.

He knew the contents because Basilio had mentioned them.

Finding an automaton that had gained artificial intelligence awareness, something that could be called an urban legend or ghost story.

Its location was in District 49, known as the Scrap Heap.

And there existed the Scrap Heap gang, a biker gang that lived ignoring all laws.

Though called a gang, it would be unfair to compare them to the common thugs he'd faced until now.

They were guys who had claimed an entire district as their territory.

Moreover, they had extreme xenophobia toward outsiders.

It was dangerous for even a fixer to go there alone.

Even if one went, there was no guarantee of finding the automaton in such a vast district, especially in a desolate place full of all sorts of junk.

"It says to accept."

But despite this, Osian chose to take on the request because that's what his intuition was telling him.

"That's welcome news. This actually makes me worried. What if you solve the request much better than I would have?"

Hearing this, Ronan spoke instead.

"What do you mean, what if? You should congratulate them, of course."

Momentarily stunned by those words, Basilio burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Right, that's it! When a comrade succeeds, what else is there to do but congratulate them!"

On the first night of Basilio's return Violet Fox was unusually bustling with excitement.

*

In the deep dawn after everyone had returned to their respective quarters, Basilio briefly left the tavern and walked the streets alone.

-Thud. Thud. Thud.

The street lights went out along the path he walked.

This wasn't Basilio's intention. It was just an innate issue that couldn't be helped but Basilio didn't think it was particularly bad.

The deeper the darkness grew, the more vividly he felt alive.

Although his heart might not want it, his body was rejoicing in such an environment.

"So."

Basilio stopped walking and stared into the alley beyond the darkness.

"Why have you come looking for me again?"

If his Violet Fox colleagues had seen this, they would have been very surprised because Basilio's voice was so cold, vastly different from when he conversed with his colleagues.

Rather, his voice, tinged with irritation to the point where one might think it was a different person, had a magical quality that made listeners' knees weak.

However, the one who came looking for Basilio despite this was equally extraordinary.

"Hohoho. Don't be like that. I just came to hear your answer, that's all."

There was only darkness there, but as Basilio was familiar with darkness, he saw through it.

Rather, the darkness was telling him who the being there was and what they looked like.

"You're different from the one who came to the Waterlands. Though you're probably from the same organization."

"Oh my. My introduction is late. Nice to meet you. I am [Humpty Dumpty]."

It was a familiar with a ridiculous appearance - an egg half the size of a person with arms, legs, and a face attached but Basilio didn't judge his opponent solely by appearance.

That bizarre and ugly appearance rather clearly told him what kind of being it was.

"One of Mother Goose's closest aides. Have you lost your mind? What your kind did in this city was just days ago."

"Well, that's true. Of course, we didn't intend for things to go that far. Hohoho, since it's already happened, we're also trying to lay low as much as possible."

"Yet you appeared, which means you wanted to hear my answer that badly?"

"I apologize for the rudeness committed by our colleague who contacted you in the Waterlands."

Humpty Dumpty brought up what happened in the Waterlands.

"No need to apologize. I dealt with that arrogant one personally anyway."

"Yes. We know that too."

"Yet you appeared before me, makes me wonder if you're trying to mock me."

When killing intent filled Basilio's voice, Humpty Dumpty waved his hands.

"How could that be? I came strictly to make our proposal properly this time."

"I think I've given enough of an answer."

"We're not so narrow-minded. How could an answer given in such circumstances be sincere? It's merely postponed."

Though his voice and words were full of courtesy, Basilio could tell that the true meaning included in those words was that they were giving him one more chance.

Truly arrogant.

But they had the qualifications for such arrogance.

"I'm curious. Why are you so desperate for me?"

"Mr. Basilio. Aren't you a very famous special-grade fixer even in this Tirna?"

"There are other special-grade fixers besides me. And there are those stronger than me in this city."

"But most of them belong to their own organizations. Hohoho. Ah, of course, that doesn't mean we can't make proposals to such people, but we have our own standards."

"I don't know what about me satisfied your standards to make you act like this."

"Are you pretending not to know? We know what kind of power you handle, and what state you're in."

A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment.

Basilio quietly opened his mouth.

"Tell me more."

"I don't know why you hide your face and identity while working like this. But, you can't live like that forever, can you? However, it's different if you join us. We can accept you. All of it."

Humpty Dumpty extended his hand.

Though it was a thin, bony hand, it had a charm that made one want to grasp it more than anything else.

Basilio recalled someone similar from his memories.

Deliphiros, who is now the mayor.

"Join us. And bring back the age of old glory. Then you too can live proudly."

Humpty Dumpty saw through what state Basilio was in.

That's why, unlike that idiot who went to persuade him in the Waterlands, he didn't act arrogantly and instead carefully catered to his preferences.

Basilio knew this too but it was pleasant to hear someone cater to you even while knowing it.

"Yes. I've thought about it a lot too. I vaguely knew such beings existed, but that was the first time they directly contacted me. I didn't think they'd contact me again here."

"That's how much you have sufficient qualifications."

"Right. That must be so. I know my condition better than anyone else."

"If people learned your true form, everyone in this world would point fingers at you. You hate that, don't you? Would the people who were close to you truly accept you if they knew your real past?"

"From how you talk, it seems you know everything I've been through."

"Hohoho. We did put in some effort."

"Right. Maybe it's as you say. But, talking with my juniors today made one thing very clear. Want to know what it is?"

"Now that you mention it, I am a bit curious."

Basilio raised his hand wearing a pure white glove.

His index finger pointed between Humpty Dumpty's eyebrows.

"If nothing else, I will never abandon my precious family."

Without warning or sound, a bright red stream of blood pierced between Humpty Dumpty's eyebrows.

The accuracy and speed were truly beyond comprehension, so Humpty Dumpty got a hole in his forehead while still wearing his expectant expression.

-Crash!

Along with the sound of breaking glass, Humpty Dumpty's form scattered like broken pieces.

"Tsk... Indeed, witches use all sorts of strange abilities."

Basilio looked down at the broken mirror that had been Humpty Dumpty.

The Humpty Dumpty here now wasn't real, but merely a form projected through a mirror from far away.

The real one was probably outside the city. Very far away at that.

What made this possible was the power of witchcraft, the craft of witches.

"This tool. Is the Queen of the Seven Dwarfs involved too? It's good to learn unknown information, but troublesome things to deal with have increased."

Basilio, who muttered indifferently, disappeared into the night beyond after stepping on the abandoned mirror pieces.

Shortly after he disappeared, the street lights came back on.

The street was still quiet as if nothing had happened in the first place.