The Most Arbitrary Wizard

Finding Sean before nightfall was a ridiculously difficult demand.

Even the Smell Crows couldn't find any trace of Sean and his people. How were they supposed to?

More importantly, they had already been searching for a while, and it was nearly dark.

The pale yellow sun hung over the horizon, gradually sinking. In two hours at most, night would fall on World's End.

But an order was an order.

They had to search, whether they could find them or not.

Besides, everyone knew in their hearts that if they failed to capture Sean this time, they would face the Church Court's most severe punishment. Being replaced or even killed wasn't the scary part. What was terrifying was the thought of having their souls banished, just like the Wizards they had captured. They would never be able to reincarnate into a next life.

Therefore, failure was not an option for this mission.

Either Sean died, or they did.

If it came to it, they would have to do as the Clan Leader said and search door-to-door.

The few men who had returned to report received their orders and went back to their assigned towns to begin a new round of carpet searches.

But the results were deeply frustrating.

They truly went door-to-door, not even sparing garages and basements, yet they still found no trace of Sean or his companions.

A hotel in Town No. 3 clearly had a record of them staying there, and they hadn't even checked out, yet the search party simply couldn't find them.

The sky quickly grew dark.

Robert's expression darkened with it.

He suddenly had a realization.

Not checking out meant that Sean and his people had no immediate plans to leave World's End.

That meant they didn't need a boat.

And if they didn't need a boat, it meant Sean and his group likely hadn't been to the port in the last few days. In other words, they should have been completely unaware of the impending siege. The reality, however, was that Sean and his people had gone into hiding.

If they truly knew nothing of the Florist Family's movements, why would they hide?

'Are they playing hide-and-seek?'

Robert was no fool. Witch Hunters often monitored their prey's movements, and by the same token, some clever prey would monitor the Hunters in return. He knew many Wizard Organizations, like the Dawn Council, considered the Florist Family their number one enemy. That was why they had come in disguise this time. He'd even secretly bought a new boat himself instead of using one of the family's, to avoid tipping them off.

One could say that while the operation was large in scale, it was also highly covert.

To the people in the five towns of World's End, the Florist Family was like the FBI suddenly kicking down their doors. No matter how fast someone reacted, it would be impossible to vanish without a trace right under their noses. At the very least, they shouldn't be so well-prepared that even the Smell Crows were thwarted and couldn't find the target.

There was only one reasonable explanation.

Sean and his people knew the Florist Family was coming and had prepared well in advance.

In other words...

There was a traitor in the Florist Family!

At this thought, Robert's old face grew even darker, like a lump of coal that had sprouted eyes.

Fortunately, this wasn't entirely bad news.

At least he could be certain that Sean and his people were still here.

Traitor or no, they were already here and had sealed off the only port out of World's End. He'd like to see just how long this bunch of cunning wizards could hide!

"Clan Leader, look, it's almost eight. The men are getting a little hungry..."

a subordinate reminded him timidly, hinting that Robert should let them break for dinner.

Robert was absolutely furious when he heard this.

"Useless trash!"

"Have you found them? And you're already thinking about eating?"

Night had already fallen. He was already doing these incompetents a favor by not losing his temper, and they had the nerve to tell him they were hungry and wanted to eat...

The Wizard said aggrievedly, "Clan Leader, an army marches on its stomach. We'll have more energy to keep searching after we eat..."

"Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat! All you fucking know how to do all day is eat! Were you a glutton in your past life?!" Robert cursed.

But for all his cursing, he knew in his heart that the man's request was reasonable. He was already prepared for a protracted battle with Sean; he couldn't actually starve his own men. A long-range siege like this was like a military campaign—food was of the utmost importance. He was just so incredibly pissed off.

Normally, whenever the family had a mission, these guys would be falling over each other to take it, all spouting nonsense about earning merits and getting promoted. They acted so confident, as if they were invincible and could accomplish anything. But now that they were actually put to the test, they turned out to be a bunch of useless gluttons who couldn't even find one person!

Robert cursed for a full five minutes before he felt he'd let off a little steam.

His face dark, he said, "Get over there and tell them! I want at least one team guarding every street. The rest can return to the ship in shifts to eat!"

"Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" The subordinate was overjoyed to hear this. He agreed immediately and scurried off.

Robert watched his joyful retreat, as if getting to eat was some momentous occasion. A fresh wave of anger washed over him, and he couldn't stop himself from kicking viciously at the empty air. "Worthless bastard! What rotten luck!"

Meanwhile, in the cruise ship's hotel, the Eleanor Sisters had been standing by the window, watching everything happening at the port from afar.

Elise was getting impatient. "Are these guys any good at all?" she complained.

"Weren't there supposed to be a bunch of them? They've been searching for this long and haven't found a single person."

Eleanor, however, was more understanding. "It just goes to show how clever Sean is."

'After all, that's Mr. Blake. He's not going to be that easy to find.'

"Should we help them?" Elise asked.

'What a bunch of idiots, and they're still thinking about eating. At this practically nonexistent rate of efficiency, who knows when they'll ever find him.'

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