The city lay behind a sea of silent lights that stretched endlessly beneath the chilly sky, and the night was calm. As I turned, my muscles tensed reflexively at the sight of him, and the wind rustled through my garnts with a slight shiver.
Mark.
His face was partially in shade as he stood a few ters away, just out of the faint streetlamp's reach. Seeing him here, on this bridge—this location of endings—had an unsettling quality. It was impossible to determine whether he was amused or dead serious because of the sa unreadable expression on his face.
My stance remained neutral, but my mind raced. Why now? Why here?
"What are you doing here?" My voice ca out steady, calm.
Mark took a slow step forward, hands in his pockets. "I told you, didn't I? That I'd find you."
I stayed silent, watching him closely. There was sothing off about this—sothing deliberate. He wasn't here by coincidence.
He must have noticed the way my posture subtly shifted, because he exhaled, shaking his head. "Relax, Reynard. If you don't trust , Scan ."
My eyes narrowed. How does he know I have Scan?
It shouldn't have surprised —Mark had always been one step ahead. But even knowing that, I couldn't help but wonder: how much did he really know?
Mark saw my hesitation and, almost lazily, pulled up his interface. "Go ahead. See for yourself. I even switched my job to cashier, just for you." A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips, but there was sothing tired in his expression. Like he had sothing to prove.
I activated Scan. The familiar interface shimred before , breaking down his information.
[SCAN RESULTS]
Na: [ Blank ]
Job: Cashier (B-Rank)
Skills:
Transaction Efficiency (Lv. 4) – Enhances speed and accuracy when processing paynts, refunds, and financial exchanges.
Custor Interaction (Lv. 6) – Improves communication skills for engaging with custors and addressing their needs effectively.
Inventory Managent (Lv. 4) – Increases ability to track, organize, and restock products efficiently.
Basic Mathematics (Lv. 5) – Strengthens proficiency in calculations, asurents, and nurical problem-solving for everyday tasks.
Not only had he switched jobs, but he'd dropped his previous ones entirely. No combat skills, no deception skills—just the mundane list of abilities one would expect from soone working a register.
"Satisfied?" Mark asked, watching my reaction.
I deactivated the interface and folded my arms. "That depends. Why did you co all this way just to prove a point?"
Mark's expression shifted, sothing darker flashing in his eyes. "Because we need to talk. And you need to listen."
I waited.
"You and I... we're not like the others," he started, pacing slightly as if his thoughts were too restless to stay still. "Everyone else is bound by their jobs. They get one job, one set of skills, one life path dictated by this system we're all trapped in. But us? We're different. You can create jobs. I can switch between them. We are the only two people in the world who can do this."
His voice was filled with sothing raw—an intensity that bordered on obsession.
"And what exactly does that an to you?" I asked, keeping my voice level.
Mark's lips curled into sothing almost resembling a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It ans we're the only two that matter."
I frowned. "That's a bold statent."
"Is it?" He scoffed. "Think about it, Reynard. Everyone beneath us—" he gestured vaguely toward the city, "—acts like they're important. Like they control their own destinies. But they don't. They're bound by their system, their jobs, their preordained paths. And those above us? The ones who think they control everything? They don't deserve to sit on that throne."
I exhaled slowly. "You talk like you want to burn the world down."
"No," Mark said, voice eerily soft. "I want us to take it."
A long silence stretched between us. The wind howled through the steel bars of the bridge.
"Join , Reynard," Mark said. "With our abilities, we don't have to kneel to anyone. We could shape the world however we see fit. No more rules. No more restrictions."
His words were heavy with conviction, laced with sothing deeper—sothing I couldn't quite place. Passion. Sadness. Vengeance.
I let out a slow breath, trying to process everything. In all honesty, when I first had gotten Jobmaster (SSS-Rank), I probably would have accepted it, but now...I had people I cared for. I then rembered sothing more important.
"You tried to kill ."
Mark's brow furrowed slightly.
"Mars. The mission. The failure. That was you, wasn't it?"
He shook his head. "No. That wasn't my call. Soone above the ladder made that decision. I was just a piece in their ga."
"Then why didn't you stop it?"
Mark's expression darkened. "Because, at the ti, I thought it was necessary."
I clenched my jaw. "And now?"
"Now I know better." His voice was quieter, more solemn. "And if I were really your enemy, why haven't I exposed you?"
I stilled.
"I know who you are," he said. "The Masked Syndicate. The one who shouldn't exist. If I were against you, Reynard, the world would already know. But I haven't said a word. Ask yourself why."
I hated to admit it, but he had a point. If he truly wanted to take down, he had every opportunity to do so. But that didn't an I trusted him.
"I don't believe you," I said bluntly.
Mark exhaled through his nose, as if expecting that answer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. "Then don't. But if you ever decide to see the truth, call ."
I chose to not take it imdiately, so he set it on the railing between us. "One day, you'll understand, Reynard. The more you learn, the more you'll realize the world isn't what you think it is. And when that day cos, you'll want to join ."
He turned, beginning to walk away, but I wasn't done yet.
"Hold on, one last thing," I called out. "Why don't you have a na?"
Mark slowed to a stop. He didn't turn around, but I saw the faintest tilt of his head-the faintest hint of sadness-as he answered.
"Because if I had a na... that would an they consider human."
And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving only the slip of paper fluttering in the wind.
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