The Mage of Primordial Chaos

Chapter 485: The Syndicate's Vision

Chapter 485: The Syndicate’s Vision

Believe what you will, huh?

Well, I actually asked that question just to bait them. I was already verifying their answers using Psychic Magic earlier, but since that took mana, by asking this question to them and judging their response, I could determine whether or not Psychic Magic was really needed. And as it turns out, it wasn’t—they were telling the truth, through and through. Saves a lot of trouble for me too.

“Anyway… next question,” I continued, rubbing my chin. “What is the ranking system of the Midnight Syndicate? Tell me everything you know—everything.”

“Heh. It’s really not complicated,” the prisoner leading them said with a coarse chuckle. “You ever been to Church before?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Ah… an atheist, eh?” The prisoners laughed in joint.

I shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t phrase it like that, since there are things I believe in, but for the purpose of this conversation, sure. Enlighten me.”

“When you join the Midnight Syndicate, you first start as a Follower,” the prisoner explained. “That’s what most of the members in the organization are. The footsoldiers, the sacrificial pawns. But as you prove your strength and loyalty in the organization, you can be promoted from a Follower to a Deacon, which can be thought of as the class rep of a class in a school. My rank is a Deacon, and these guys are all Followers.”

He gestured to the four other prisoners by his side, and I nodded in understanding.

“I see… and what’s after Deacon?”

“Priest. Priests are like the teachers, and each lead a group of men. We call it a platoon, holding 25 men. Then, if you’re lucky and skilled enough, you can become an Archpriest, leading a division, which consists of four platoons. That’s 100 men total. After the Archpriest comes the Bishop, which controls five divisions for a total of 500 men. That’s called a regiment. And ten regiments… make up an army. 5,000 men.”

“And following the pattern thus far, an army would be led by an Archbishop?” I asked.

The prisoner grinned. “You catch on quick. There aren’t many Archbishops in the organization—maybe a dozen at best. Most cities we are stationed in only have a Bishop there leading them. But even then… Archbishops aren’t at the top.”

“… I’ve seen,” I muttered, and the Midnight Syndicate Deacon’s eyes turned dark.

“The Four Cardinals… insanely powerful individuals who govern the organization’s internal affairs and control everyone below them. But above them… is the sole ruler of even them, and the founder of the entire organization: the Pope.”

“X…” Feng Mian murmured.

“And the Four Cardinals must be those four we saw in Fragment,” Lin Luo added, narrowing her eyes a bit. “A wolfman, a demon, a succubus, and an old hag.”

“Well, that’s all I know,” the prisoner said with a sigh. “I’m just a lowly Deacon. I have no idea what their abilities are or exactly how strong they can be at full power. But all I know is… if you’re planning on fighting them, don’t. You can’t win. They are all late-stage Saints. And the Pope… rumor is, he’s a Divine God. The first to exist since the creation of the world.”

“… I see. Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll fight them anyway,” I said with a grin. “One last question. Why… did you join the Midnight Syndicate?”

At this, the Deacon fell silent, and so did the four other prisoners. They all had solemn, uncomfortable expressions on their faces. Whereas before, they had answered all my questions with perfect ease, now, they were all hesitant. Was it because they didn’t want to say their crimes out loud? Or…

But the Deacon’s next words shocked both myself and the girls.

“The Midnight Syndicate… it’s not as evil as you people make it out to be.”

“What…?” Feng Mian’s eyes widened in surprise. “They’re not evil…?”

“Then what about all the killings they’ve done? The lives they’ve taken? The homes they’ve destroyed?” Yu An Yan demanded, tightening her fists as she remembered what happened to both herself and Shenzhen.

“Those… were the decisions of specific Bishops. There’s no helping that. There are evil people in positions of power, even outside of the Midnight Syndicate. Corrupt politicians, arrogant young masters… aren’t they the same, objectively speaking?”

“That’s true, but… eh, what about capturing Fragment and killing the people there?” Qing Yue asked with a shrug. “That was done by the Four Cardinals and the Pope himself. Or was that the decision of a specific Bishop too?”

“That… I’m not sure,” the Deacon admitted, voice low and quiet. “But… I once met an Archbishop of the Midnight Syndicate. Just once. And I’m sure these four have too. The Archbishops’ jobs, apart from manging armies, is to find new recruits for the organization. I was ready to give up life when he came across me.”

The other prisoners nodded as if in agreement, and the Deacon continued his tale.

“At the time, I had just been fired from my job over being framed for a mistake I didn’t even make. My wife left me for being incompetent, and took the kids with her. My land owner kicked me out of my house for being unable to pay the rent, and I was forced to live on the streets. I still remember that day very well…”

*****

– Several Years Ago –

(The Deacon’s Perspective)

It was over. It was all over.

I had lost everything. Like the Butterfly effect or a chain of dominoes, everything I once possessed—a job, a loving family, money, and happiness—was taken away from my feeble hands.

Where had I gone wrong?

That’s what I wondered as I collapsed in the back alley of the slums of an urban city. The city I once could proudly declare my home, but now, I was nothing but a bottom feeder living in the streets whose only purpose was to take up space.

I looked up at the sky, and felt my vision grow hazy. A drop of water fell onto my cheek, and I was jolted back awake by the impact.

Ah… it’s raining.

How apt, for the situation I was in. The rain helped set the mood perfectly, and ironically, a smile formed on my face.

I was hungry. It’s been days since I last had food. I could feel it—my life force was slowly ebbing away from me. At this rate, it was only a matter of time.

My muscles refused to move. But that’s alright. I didn’t try to move them anyway.

I had already given up hope.

Take me, death. End my suffering. End it all.

Goodbye, accursed world. I’m done living here, in this unfair, unjust society. I’m done listening to corrupt managers, obeying biased orders, and listening to slews of rage being poured onto me like a bucket of steaming water.

I just wanted to die.

“But do you, really?”

A voice.

Huh…?

I tried turning my head. I tried opening my eyes further to get clear sight of the person who had said this, but ultimately gave up. He probably wasn’t even talking to me anyway. Who would talk to someone like me, on the verge of death?

But I was in a back alleyway amidst rain… unless someone intentionally came into these slums, I shouldn’t be able to hear anyone’s voice…

Oh, I get it.

I’m having hallucinations now. Great. My end was near. When will my life flash before my eyes? I would like to witness the happy moments I’ve had, one final time.

“Come,” the voice said. “Don’t give up.”

Don’t give… up…

For some reason, my mind began repeating that line. My body wanted to die. It wanted to rest. But my soul refused to let it. Somewhere within me, a raging fire burned. One of hate, one of revenge.

“Join us,” the voice beckoned. It was gentle, soothing, much like the rain that trickled down my face and splashed on all around me. “You are not alone. This unjust society, this unfair world… we can fix it all—together.”

Unjust… unfair… fix… together…

Before I knew it, I spent the last of my remaining energy into lifting my arm.

And that I did.

My eyes were closed. Blind. Too weak to even open them. But I somehow found the energy within me to lift that arm, using the final bits of lifeforce I still had.

And then, I felt it.

Another hand, take my own. It held it firmly like a bond of steel, and for the first time in too long, I felt warmth. Genuine, heartfelt warmth. In my dark blindness and weakness, that hand was like one that saved me from falling off a cliff. The hand that saved me from drowning in a sea of death. A beam of light in the shadows of Hell, pulling me back from its grasp that had already closed around me.

And just before my consciousness faded away, I heard but one line. One line that would change my life forever.

“We are the Midnight Syndicate. And we… will change this poisoned world.”