The cold, polished marble floors of the Magic Council's Fiore Branch echoed with the pathetic, sniveling sniffles of Macao Conbolt. The air in Finn's private office smelled faintly of expensive parchment and the cheap, stale tobacco clinging to Macao's clothes.
Finn looked down at the whimpering, trembling figure of Fairy Tail's Fourth Guild Master and could only let out a heavy sigh. The pouch of coins sitting on his mahogany desk was pitifully light.
With all the high-paying jobs Finn had secretly funneled to their struggling guild, they should have had more than enough to cover both the interest and the principal of their massive debt. Yet, somehow, they were always short. Finn knew exactly where the money went: booze, cigarettes, gambling, and a dozen other useless vices.
I am so glad I never joined Fairy Tail, Finn thought, rubbing his temples.
Unlike the typical fantasy of a protagonist dropping into this world, joining the famous guild, awakening the power of Nakama, and building a massive harem, Finn had been a mere twelve-year-old boy when Lucy Heartfilia first joined Fairy Tail. When the plot began, he was just a powerless kid watching a guild rack up catastrophic debts because its members caused more collateral property damage than their bounties could ever cover.
Why did he choose to join the Magic Council instead, knowing full well how deeply corrupt and historically targeted it was?
Simple. It was the most stable, wealthy, and politically absolute organization on the entire continent of Ishgar. Even Fairy Tail, with all its reckless bravado, didn't dare openly declare war on the Council. If they did, they would instantly be branded a Dark Guild. No one would hire them for legal quests, forcing them into a life of assassination and robbery just to eat.
Finn had formally joined the Council seven years ago, right after Fairy Tail's core members mysteriously vanished on Tenrou Island. It was the perfect power vacuum. And over those seven years, the young boy had manipulated the system, rising from the shadows to become a 19-year-old political titan.
Far away from the sterilized halls of the Magic Council, deep within the damp, overgrown ruins of an ancient forest temple, the air smelled heavily of wet moss and morning dew. The only sound was the distant trickle of a waterfall and the rustle of leaves.
"Achoo!"
"Achoo!"
Two sneezes echoed through the ruins simultaneously.
"What's wrong, Ultear? Are you coming down with something?"
Meredy, a beautiful young woman with striking pink hair, looked over with concern. Her own figure was blossoming beautifully, her curves starting to push testingly against her tight clothing, catching up to her mentor's legendary proportions.
She completely ignored the blue-haired man beside them, Jellal, who had also just sneezed.
"No, I'm completely fine," Ultear murmured, rubbing her nose as a cold shiver ran down her spine. "Maybe someone is talking about me behind my back?"
"Who?"
"Most likely... the White Devil of the Magic Council."
The moment Ultear spoke that name, a heavy silence fell over Crime Sorcière. Jellal, the most wanted criminal on the continent, clenched his jaw. "He won't be able to find us out here."
The White Devil. Finn Hoen.
Despite the rather mundane-sounding name, Finn had risen to absolute prominence over the last seven years. To the common people, his political reforms and crackdowns made him a beacon of hope. But to the criminal underworld, he was the Devil incarnate.
For the three mages living in the shadows to atone for their sins, they knew the absolute truth about Finn's nature. He was a deeply greedy, brilliantly cunning official who used his immense talent and authority entirely for his own benefit.
"Is he planning to take us down?" Jellal asked, his voice dripping with frustration. He was constantly on edge, wondering what kind of despicable, underhanded political traps Finn was laying for them. Jellal despised the fact that Finn had everything—wealth, status, power—and used it so selfishly, monopolizing the criminal underworld by forcing Dark Guilds to pay him protection money.
"No, he won't do something like that. He isn't physically strong enough," Ultear replied calmly. She stretched her arms above her head, letting out a soft, sultry groan.
Her ridiculously tight, skin-clinging leotard did absolutely nothing to hide the heavy, bountiful weight of her massive D-cup breasts. As she moved, the fabric stretched dangerously over her curves, her pale cleavage glistening with a thin, alluring layer of sweat from their recent battle.
Jellal quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks dusting pink, trying desperately to focus on the conversation rather than the mesmerizing jiggle of Ultear's chest.
"Why shouldn't we expect an attack?" Jellal forced out. "You of all people know we should be careful with him."
"Because Finn knows that hunting us directly is a massive waste of his time and resources," Ultear sighed, reaching up to massage her sore shoulders, a motion that only further emphasized her bouncing assets. "Haven't you noticed how conveniently easy it's been for us to track down Dark Guilds lately?"
"Er..."
"He's deliberately feeding us information, Jellal," Ultear smirked, a wicked, knowing gleam in her eye. "When a Dark Guild refuses to pay his extortion fees, he leaks their location to us. We charge in and destroy them. In other words... he is using us as his personal, pro-bono thugs."
"..." Jellal looked utterly sick to his stomach.
"But it's fine, isn't it? Eradicating Dark Guilds is exactly what we want to do anyway," Ultear pointed out smoothly, shifting her weight so her voluptuous hips swayed. "Frankly, it's much easier for us when he slips us the intel. We don't have to get our hands dirty gathering it." As she spoke, her eyes tracked the departing pigeon. She sighed, knowing that no one could escape his gaze
Jellal fell into a bitter silence. He should have been happy that their crusade was succeeding. But realizing that he was being played like a cheap pawn by the most corrupt official in Ishgar made his blood boil. Finn played a political game they couldn't touch. How do you defeat a man who is a saint in the light and a devil in the dark?
While Crime Sorcière debated his morals, Finn wasn't thinking about Jellal's little vigilante group at all. Those rats were fated to hide in the dirt. Finn, armed with the multidimensional Manager system and the power of his alternate selves, was aiming far higher.
Right now, he was standing in the desolate, wind-battered badlands of Guiltina, a completely different continent. The harsh wind howled through the rocky canyons, carrying the thick, metallic scent of dried blood and sulfur.
"Bwahwahaha! It's incredibly rare to see a big shot from Ishgar cross the ocean to this barren rock! You brought the money, right? Eh, White Devil?"
Finn stared calmly at the towering, scarred man before him. It was Georg Reizen, the "Dragon Eater" and Guild Master of Diabolos—a guild completely dedicated to hunting and consuming dragons. Using his vast underworld connections, Finn had quietly arranged this meeting.
"Is my moniker really that famous that it reached Guiltina?" Finn asked, his coat flapping in the fierce wind.
"Who doesn't know you? The most cunning, filthy-rich Council member in history!" Georg laughed, his booming voice echoing off the canyon walls.
"That's a bit of an overestimation. I'm actually quite weak physically," Finn lied smoothly. "That's exactly why I brought a mountain of cash to meet you."
"Don't worry, the goods are ready. As promised, the corpse and the Lacrima are completely intact." Georg crossed his massive arms, grinning down at this strange, rich politician. "I originally planned to feed this to one of my top subordinates, but for the absurd price you're paying? It's all yours."
"Thank you."
Finn snapped his fingers. His elite, black-clad subordinates immediately stepped forward, hauling several massive, heavy chests forward. They flipped the lids open, revealing a blinding fortune of gold and Jewels. They handed it over to Georg's men.
"I threw in a generous bonus, too," Finn added with a polite smile.
"Wow~! So generous~!" Georg's eyes practically turned into currency symbols. "If you ever need more merchandise, let me know! No one pays like you do, boss!"
As the Diabolos guild master gleefully counted his newfound wealth, Finn's absolute focus shifted to the massive shadow resting in the canyon behind Georg.
The scent of overwhelming draconic power rolled off the fresh, towering corpse. Finn felt a strange, primal thrum in his veins—his newly evolved Dragon Conqueror physiology reacting to the presence of the beast. He had paid a king's ransom, but it was worth every single coin.
Lying before him was the legendary Sword Saint Dragon.
Kurunugi.
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Welcome to the Fairy Tail!