The Most Arbitrary Wizard

It had been a long time since anyone had pointed a gun at Sean.

But the cold, hard touch against the back of his head immediately told him it was a gun.

He froze on the spot.

Normally, Wizards of Tier Three and above weren’t particularly afraid of guns. But that came with a prerequisite—they couldn’t be too close. At point-blank range like this, with a gun pressed directly to his head, it would be difficult to dodge no matter how fast his reflexes were, as long as his opponent was decisive enough.

Besides, for Sean right now, the gun wasn’t the main point. The main point was that he hadn’t sensed anyone nearby at all. He had no idea how the person had gotten behind him.

Obviously, the other person’s Tier was higher than his—and not just by a little bit.

’Then why is he using a gun?’

’Is it because this gun is special, or does he think a gun is all it takes to deal with me?’

Sean couldn’t guess.

Fortunately, this wasn’t his first time in such a predicament. Plus, this was the Spiritual World, so he wasn’t as afraid of dying. He remained calm, slowly raised his hands, and said, "Don’t shoot, I’m one of you..."

"Who’s one of you?"

the man cut in coldly. "Didn’t you hear me? I said don’t move. Get your ID out."

Sean: "..."

’Isn’t raising your hands standard procedure when you’ve got a gun to your head?’

’Besides, how am I supposed to get my ID if I don’t move?’

Sean’s mind raced.

’Assuming this villa hasn’t been sold yet, there are only two types of people who would show up here. The first is like me, here to find something or to pay respects to Carl Black—in other words, one of us. The other type would be people from the Church Court. They know Carl Black used to live here, so they’re lying in wait to ambush and capture any Holy Temple Remnants.’

Sean thought the second possibility was more likely.

Pointing a gun at someone right off the bat and demanding to see an ID—it was very much like something a police officer would do.

So, an idea struck Sean. He said, "I really am one of you. If you don’t believe me, look... my ID is in my left pants pocket."

He had just been complaining to Elvire about how bold fake ID makers were these days. Of all the identities to fake, why a cop? He never expected it would come in handy so soon.

The fake ID was very convincing, at least on the surface. There were no databases to check here, so the other party probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

On this point, Sean’s gamble paid off.

The man indeed saw no issue with the ID and believed he was a police officer.

But to Sean’s surprise, after the man took the ID from his pocket with one hand while keeping the gun steady with the other, his voice grew even colder than before, now laced with undisguised killing intent.

"So that’s why you were acting so shifty. You’re a cop!"

Sean: "?"

"Aren’t you a cop, too?"

The man sneered. "What cop would call himself a ’cop’?"

It was hardly a term of endearment.

Sean: "..."

’Crap, I guessed wrong.’

"You’re smart, finding your way here," the man said. "But sometimes, being too smart isn’t a good thing."

"Mr. Cop, your time is up."

"Wait!"

Sean quickly explained, "Actually, this ID is a fake. I’m not a cop. We’re still on the same side."

The man looked at him with contempt. "Do you take me for a fool? You think I can’t tell if it’s real or fake?"

"I’ve never seen such a gutless cop."

Sean: "..."

’Dammit, there’s no explaining this now.’

"Trust me, you’ll regret coming here," the man said coldly. "Someone, take him away."

Sean froze. ’There are more of them?’

Yes, there were more of them. Quite a few, in fact.

At the man’s command, several more people appeared out of nowhere. They pulled a pair of opaque, zero-visibility black pantyhose over Sean’s head like a hood and started marching him outside.

Sean tried to extend his senses, only to find that the pantyhose could actually block his Mental Power. It was a Magic Item. He could only rely on pure brainpower to discern and memorize where they were taking him.

As he kept track, a strange expression appeared on Sean’s face under the pantyhose.

He wasn’t sure if he’d lost his sense of direction, but he felt like the group had led him in a few circles outside the villa, only to re-enter through the back door into the garden, head back into the villa, and then go down to the basement...

’Are they deliberately trying to throw me off?’

About half an hour passed.

The hood was pulled off Sean’s head, and his eyes could finally see light again.

"Just stay here and behave. Otherwise, you’ll be sorry."

CLANK!

The heavy steel door was slammed shut.

This was a dungeon.

The style was both retro and modern. It used an old-fashioned barred-cell design, with vertical bars on all four sides, but the material was steel, not wood, giving it a colder and more desperate feel than a typical jail cell.

Sean, however, didn’t feel desperate.

He just never imagined that his mission would get off to such a bad start—getting captured the moment he arrived, and in his own basement, no less...

"How embarrassing."

Sean sighed faintly.

Candles on the walls cast a faint light. The dungeon was quite large. If this really was his basement, converting it must have taken a lot of work. Sean counted a total of six cells like the one he was in, but the other five were empty. He was the only person locked up in the entire dungeon area; he couldn’t even find a fellow inmate to talk to.

With no other choice, Sean helplessly closed his eyes to begin his Meditation, heading off to the desert to eat a cactus.

There was nothing else he could do, after all.

Escaping was out of the question. The men who had just dragged him in had no "footsteps"—Sean hadn’t been able to sense where they were hiding from start to finish. In other words, this group was made up entirely of High-tier Wizards, conservatively estimated to be Tier Five or above. And for Tier Five Wizards to be acting as "gatekeepers," the current master of this dungeon was very likely a Grand Mage as well.

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