What should have been years of research and searching had been reduced to a single shop. Not only did the fox have everything Simon needed, but she also gave him a reasonable price.

  That being said, it was still an absurd amount of money, and he would have to do a dozen quests like the last, including the bonus, to afford it. And that was before factoring in the bare minimum needed to survive.

  Being so close, maybe Simon could sprint the rest of the way, a burst to the finish line. Following his thoughts, his steps carried him to the asshole who was responsible for giving him jobs.

  “Hey, watcha got there?”

  His attention went outward as he noticed where he was.

  Namely, in a seedy part of his neighbourhood known as Shark Alley, known for its near 100% chance of getting jumped by goons. The cops did nothing because it was usually gang-on-gang violence at a place away from the public eye.

  Sadly, it was also the place he usually met his contact.

  However, he had beaten enough thugs to make a name for himself. Which meant that these fuckers were new.

  His assailants were three people, and while sensory magic was not a strong suit, Simon had enough knowledge to know these punks were of the third order.

  They had to be young and inexperienced, as what idiot gives an opponent a warning, especially when that opponent could rend the fabric of reality? Simon refused to believe they could not sense the magic his spell was giving off, which should have identified him as a fourth-order fighter.

  While the gap between orders was smaller at lower orders than at higher ones, it was still considerable. These baggy-clothed hooded idiots were in for a rough time.

  However, Simon would still try diplomacy.

  ‘BORING!’

  ‘Giving an opponent the chance to act is unwise,’

  ‘Resolving this without violence is the best option.’

  He did not know what, if any, gangs they were affiliated with. And gang ‘fines’ were rough.

  “Not here to fight or make a scene. Just here to meet someone about a job.”

  Simon said genially.

  “Good, cause it won’t end well for you. Just give us the package, and we will be on our way.”

  answered a very feminine voice. Hidden through a face mask and oversized clothes, he had a very hard time recognizing their form or gender.

  Was it a woman?

  While women were not uncommon in gangs, they rarely went out alone. Simon would love to say that magic was a great equalizer, and sexual violence was not a thing. But then he would be lying.

  It happened on both sides, among both genders, for a variety of reasons. But mortal women still made up around 70% of the victims. Such was life.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Simon asked, putting a bit of menace into his voice.

  His opponent snorted.

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  “An upstart who appeared out of nowhere a couple of months ago. You might have some tricks up your sleeve, but you are no match for Uni-Riders.”

  Ah. He heard of the Uni-Riders. It was a ‘biker’ gang, except the desired mode of transportation was horses, magical ones. The leader was a Unicorn with a very high reputation. If rumors were to be believed, she was apparently equal to a mage of the sixth order.

  Simon had no interest in dealing with someone of that power, but he was also not willing to give up his hard-earned rewards.

  There was an internal curse as he berated himself for not hiding the package. Simon had gotten too comfortable riding on his reputation, along with being lost in thought.

  “Maybe, but know that you and your lackeys are no match for me. Hell, as long as I don’t hurt you, I should be fine.”

  ‘’‘That is bad.’’’

  All three of his voices were in chorus, and normally, Simon would agree, handicapping yourself was never a good idea. But gaining the ire of a gang was even worse, especially when said gang was backed by an epic magical being.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The leader of the trio asked, her voice full of agitation.

  “Simple, I am just going to ignore you and go about the rest of my day. See if you can do anything meaningful to me.”

  By now, some of the hawkers and goons of this alley had taken notice. They watched with interest but stayed well clear of the confrontation.

  Simon projected confidence, trusting in his ability as a mage. In response, he felt his thoughts sharpen, his senses heighten, and power flood into every cell.

  The leader threw a punch, and it arched directly into his face. The speed of the punch would have been insane by regular mortal standards. But to him, it appeared very sluggish.

  He sidestepped into the hooded girl’s personal space.

  ‘Break!’

  ‘Kill!’

  ‘Incapacitate!’

  Simon did none of the above. With his extremely enhanced speed, he rested his head on the being’s shoulder while her body was still moving as though in slow motion.

  “Boo.”

  He whispered.

  The Uni-Rider flinched before lunging away from him in a screech.

  Simon held his position, which was not very awkward, as he no longer had the support of another body. He looked up with an expression of boredom.

  “How about you try a spell? Maybe that will go better for you?”

  He said with a deliberate arrogance he did not really feel.

  There was an audible gulp from her, along with some of the onlookers.

  They were not wrong in their action. From their perspective, Simon had just exploded in magical energy equivalent to a fourth order with zero casting time or no spell frame. Even if they were to assume it was a true spell, a mage needed time to channel the magic, especially if it was the same order as the caster.

  He cast it effortlessly and, more importantly, instantly.

  While Simon would not deny its power, it was among the strongest things he could do. Hell, his other two trump cards did have a small delay. This enhancement was the only one that had absolutely none, and it allowed him to suckerpunch his foes and hit above his weight class.

  What the crowd did not know was that, in this state, Simon needed to keep exerting himself. That was half the reason for staying in that awkward pose; it gave his power something to focus on. But even that was only a temporary fix; he would need to run up a wall if he did not let go of this strength.

  So Simon did, and came back to a relaxed standing position—a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Uh… Yeah. No, fuck this. I am out.”

  One of the lackeys shouted, and it sounded as if they had a feminine voice.

  The other hesitated a step, then followed along. Only the leader remained.

  “Seems, you have lost your support. But the offer remains open.”

  Simon said, theatrically opening his arms.

  The leader raised her hands before backing away slowly. Once she had enough distance, she bolted into the crowd.

  He let out an explosive breath. Simon knew these streets and the bullies that walked them. Most were just bluster; show them a bit of true power, and they would run for the hills. It kept him looking dangerous while being in the good graces of the gangs.

  More jobs that way.

  ‘Reactive.’

  ‘Respectable.’

  ‘Reckless.’

  Simon could not argue that last bit.