Chapter 9: Could He Really Be a Genius?

At noon, a blue family sedan cruised along a rural highway far from London. The farther they got from the city, the rougher the roads became—but surprisingly, the country air was a welcome change, far superior to the stifling smog of London. If only it weren't winter, Wayne thought wistfully.

Wayne had purchased this sedan at a secondhand dealership. Dr. Lainer had hired him to investigate a used car seller, and after uncovering a trail of shady deals and intimidating tactics, the dealer—on the Queen's face, no less—had eagerly recommended this "80% new" black car. The owner never explained its origins, and Wayne didn't ask; he knew Veronica wouldn't approve of any commoner's ride anyway. After a swift half-hour transaction, the car was his. Its title wasn't in his name, so any risk stayed with the dealer's promise of legality.

Compared to the everyday vehicles Wayne had seen in his previous life, this four-seat blue sedan was basic—an instrument panel featuring nothing more than a single gauge, no radio, and even parts of its structure were wooden. The tail featured a split-door design and an impressively roomy trunk. Though rudimentary, it was mostly new, with bright headlights, a reliable engine, and a transmission that shifted smoothly. There was no unpleasant odor inside—just the promise of a fresh start.

Wayne drove the car out of the dealership with a dazed grin. In accordance with Veronica's orders, he quickly purchased a load of supplies: two buckets of gasoline, two cases of drinking water, assorted cans of food, chocolate, and compressed biscuits. Veronica had made it clear—get in, grab Fresh Blood Mike, lift the curse, and get out of Cardfono before nightfall. Her plan was simple and precise: a quick hit and a fast return to London.

Veronica herself took the wheel—a skilled driver whose early escape from poverty had honed her skills behind the controls. In the passenger seat, however, sat William, whose driving was an entirely different story. Though he had a license (a college requirement he only earned after two long years), his skills were dubious at best. In the back were Wayne and Monica. Originally, Veronica had insisted that Wayne drive, but since his feline mentor Monica needed to "teach" him, Veronica assumed the role of designated driver.

"Don't worry," Monica purred from her perch by Wayne's shoulder, "magical energy doesn't manifest overnight. It's more like a gentle inheritance—unless, of course, you're a prodigy…"

Noting Wayne's growing impatience, Monica began a lesson on the basics of magic. "Magic, or mana, is the lever that moves the extraordinary. Without it, nothing special happens. For ordinary folk, the slow path is meditation—a painstaking journey to awaken your inner spark. But if you're lucky, you might also follow the path of faith and devotion to the divine."

Monica explained that she had shared some of her own magic with Wayne—an infusion that let him bypass the initial grueling phase of meditation. It wasn't a shortcut to greatness, but it saved him time and energy. Still, any real magical prowess would require perseverance, a truth that both humbled and frustrated Wayne.

"So," Wayne mused as they rolled along, "if I fail this time, I just try again, right? Every aspiring mage has potential—but not every attempt to draw on magic is successful."

Monica's soft, reassuring purr echoed her confidence: "Exactly. You just need to keep at it. One day, you might even become a true mage."

As the journey continued, the conversation turned to a more practical matter. "Veronica," Wayne asked hesitantly, "do you have a car for our next leg of the trip?"

Veronica's eyes flashed with impatience. "I do," she replied curtly. "But you should know: if you don't join us, you might miss your one chance to break your curse. This opportunity might never come again."

Wayne glanced over at William, who grinned as if to say, "Trust us," and reluctantly agreed. Deep down, Wayne couldn't believe that he was willing to risk everything—even if it meant trusting a pair of mages who didn't always see eye to eye with him.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling warehouse district on the outskirts, where sparse streetlights barely pierced the thick, rolling fog. The eerie quiet of the night was punctuated by the occasional sound of distant traffic and the rustling of unseen things. Wayne's enhanced senses made him acutely aware of countless pairs of unseen eyes watching him from the darkness.

After a while, William grumbled, "Wayne, back up a bit, will you? I can't keep feeling like you're right on my heels." But Wayne, determined not to let his insecurities slow him down, remained steadfast in his position—right behind his companion.

Then, from the back of the car, Veronica inquired sharply, "Wayne, do you have your own ride?"

"I don't—but I can get one if needed," Wayne answered, his voice betraying a mix of resignation and determination. "The faster I secure one, the more money it'll cost, but I'm on it."

"Good enough," Veronica said, handing him a neatly bundled stack of bills embossed with the Queen's effigy and a list of supplies to be ready by 10 AM tomorrow. "You can choose to come along, but if you pass this chance up… well, you might never get another."

Wayne's heart sank and soared simultaneously. It was terrifying, yet it felt like destiny—a chance to rid himself of the curse that gnawed at his soul. As he glanced at William, who nodded encouragingly, Wayne silently vowed to trust in their plan—even if it meant risking everything.

Later that night, after returning to the detective agency in the sedan, William—feeling remorseful—prepared a modest meal. The ingredients were scarce, and all that was left was potatoes. Veronica remarked flatly, "Well, potatoes beat starvation any day."

Wayne devoured the meal with a fervor born of desperation, then returned to his practice of magic. He closed his eyes once more, focusing on the nascent magical energy within him. Monica, ever the diligent tutor, perched at the desk and recited lessons on the virtues of the Moon Goddess—a deity whose blessing allowed travelers to navigate the thickest fog with ease. Though Wayne had once seen the true, unblemished face of the Moon Goddess and found it breathtaking, he now listened with a skeptical but hopeful ear. After all, every good student knew better than to question a dedicated teacher.

A couple of hours into the night, Wayne—seeking to please his mentor—asked Monica which brand of little fish treats she preferred. The cat's disapproving glare silenced him immediately, and as he turned, he noticed two small, tinkling bells dangling nearby. A mischievous thought crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

Due to the strain of a sleepless night, Wayne decided to pull an all-nighter. However, as dawn neared, he was jolted awake by a harrowing nightmare. In his dream, he devoured plate after plate in a grotesque frenzy, his hunger transforming him into a ravenous ghoul—a stark reminder of the curse gnawing at his spirit. The absurdity of it all was compounded by visions of William scrambling in the kitchen to prepare yet more potatoes.

When Wayne finally awoke, he covered his face and muttered, "I dreamed I was so hungry I'd eaten everything in sight. And yet… why was it always about William's cooking?"

Before he could dwell on the thought further, he heard bustling sounds from the kitchen—a sign that, despite everything, someone still cared. He was touched. In that moment, he couldn't help but acknowledge that even the roughest among them could show unexpected kindness. William might have a brusque exterior, but his early morning meal preparations spoke of a warm heart.

"Wayne, breakfast's ready! We've got to head out soon!" William's voice rang out, jolting him into action.

"Coming," Wayne replied, a mix of reluctance and resolve in his tone.

And so, as London's perilous night slowly yielded to a pale morning light, Wayne—with his fragile, emerging magical energy and an unyielding hunger for power—prepared himself for the challenges ahead. With allies by his side, and the promise of the Moon Goddess's guidance echoing in his mind, he braced for a future where perhaps, just maybe, he would prove himself a true genius in the realm of magic.