The woman who had kept herself hidden within the maze of crates and boxes rushed out immediately, tremendous relief written across her features. Neither Merrywick, nor Lehmann bothered to stop her as she escaped outside, taking shelter behind Baron and his ragtag troops. 

"I don't see a panel above your head, old man. I might be new around the Stadia, but even I know that keeping your progression panel publicly visible is the first rule of negotiation," Merrywick said in a flat tone, emulating the exact flippant manner of speech Lehmann had used the first time they had met. 

Lehmann's lips formed a thin line, a hint of fury leaking through his gaze. But whatever Earl Declan had done within the last ten minutes, it had made the boss of the second gallery much more considerate in dealing with the situation.

"The Earl's move has certainly granted you a standing, but it doesn't extend to an immunity from harm here, boy. Take that tone with anyone less tolerant than me and you won't see the suns again. And I'm sure you've counted the amount of fucks anyone in the Stadia gives when it comes to dealing with the Church or the law enforcers. Your backers won't pick a fight with the circle of aristocrats for a silver-grade practitioner."

With that threat, Merrywick was rewarded with a far better understanding of the backdrop of the situation. So that was how the borderline illegal business infrastructures all over sector-4, like the Stadia, were able to flourish despite their antagonistic attitude towards both the government agencies and the Churches. It was the circle of aristocrats providing them support from the dark. It made sense. No other power would be influential enough to establish such a level of control over these economic hotspots, and yet still avoid the grasp of the government and the Churches.

On another hand, his suspicion was confirmed once more. Lehmann did know about the trackers and tails shadowing Merrywick's every move. He was now certain that the Earl and Lehmann had an arrangement of some sort between them, formal or informal. Miss Eyreen, or perhaps Galloway, was the middleman in the arrangement. The so-called Boss to whom Galloway had intended to send Merrywick was now a clearer figure. Either this boss was the Earl himself, or one of Lehmann's superior. 

"Boss, my injury..." 

The weak, hesitant croak from Sommer distracted him. Examining the wounds on Sommer's lower back and Longman's ruined nose, a sneer formed on Lehmann's face. 

"Baron! Send some men to drag them out of my sight! These useless pigs you've been feeding couldn't handle one inexperienced, unarmed mage. Your Boss wouldn't be too pleased to learn that, heh!"

Longman looked like he wanted to insist that the gun in Merrywick's grasp was, in fact, his own. But he realized that admitting that right now would do him more harm than good. So as one of his peers carried him off, he could only keep sending pleading looks at Merrywick, repeatedly pointing at the revolver, the culmination of his hard work as a rune specialist mage.

Merrywick flashed him a sympathetic smile in return. Baron, knowing fully well what was going on, glared at him with as much animosity as it was humanely possible to muster in silence. 

"Now, answer the question. Why did Earl Declan sacrifice his business for you? How did you make him do it? Why?" Lehmann said impatiently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Lehmann. But I can at least confirm for your convenience that the Earl values me greatly, and it's not solely for the quality of my progression system. I can imagine that he'd go to great lengths to protect me."

Lehmann didn't look pleased with the evasive answer. But he did get the hint that Merrywick had no intention to reveal why the Earl was so desperate to protect him.

"Why did he even send you here if he values your safety so much?" 

"Has Mr. Baron not informed you yet? I came to sector-4 to buy some property, and the Earl is my guarantor, backer, whatever you want to call it." Merrywick glanced in annoyance at Baron, whose countenance was growing worse by each round of exchange.

"Purchasing property? He already has plenty, even in sector-4. I can't see any valid reason why he would need a teenager to handle what a simple comcell message and an online meeting could accomplish." Lehmann was skeptical.

"Your tone makes it seem like the Earl has to answer to you for everything he does," Merrywick said in a mocking tone. 

"Unless of course, you just happen to be a Marquess or Duke yourself. Oh lord, that would really force me to explain the ins and outs of what the Earl is planning. Now that can't be true, can it?"

Lehmann looked ready to throw a spell at Merrywick's face. But right at that moment, the effectiveness of Merrywick's spell ended. A burning sensation of utter fatigue, overexertion, and weakness spread through his body with his bloodstream. The powerful, bloated limbs shrank into their previous lanky forms, perhaps even a degree worse than his normal healthy state. His chest sunk, and heartbeats began to grow sluggish after thundering on for so long beyond the ordinary capacity of his heart.  So was the case with his lungs, kidneys, and stomach. Even his mind felt slow, and tired, thoughts growing a bit hazy.

Just like his previous experience with the spell, Merrywick felt awfully hungry by the time his reverse transformation came to an end. Even Lehmann looked like a succulent pile of uncooked materials. And the heavyset man named Baron...

For the first time, he noticed Baron's face display anything other than hostility. Perhaps his starving gaze was a tad too obvious, because the man looked disturbed and puzzled at the same time. Almost appearing a bit cautious, Baron stepped back in a way one might distance himself from a rabid animal.

"Those are some impressive wounds to tolerate for so long. But now you don't have the physique fortifying spell to suppress them. You should call your daddy and ask for immediate medical assistance if you don't want to end up bleeding to death."

Lehmann looked more concerned than Merrywick expected him to be. Perhaps the hypothetical bond between the Earl and Lehmann was stronger than he had imagined. 

"A healer is on his way," Merrywick said with a light wave of his right hand. "Forget about the unimportant stuff. Let us focus on the main issue. I've already chosen the property I'm buying. This is it!"

As he gestured at the large hall behind him, Lehmann's face stiffened. 

"This building belongs to the Stadia. This entire area does, in fact. Outsiders aren't permitted to take up permanent residence here, let alone buying one."

His answer didn't cause any ripples in Merrywick's countenance. Rather innocently, he insisted on his stance.

"Is the Stadia a corporation? A firm? A company? How exactly does it own this building? Is the ownership registered under a deed?" 

"I hate rich brats like you the most. You can't take a hint until it makes a hole through your head, can you?" Lehmann's frustration leaked through his muffled voice.

"If you really want to buy a house, there are better choices. Just take a hike, leave this area, and choose any building out there. I can even assist the Earl's men in acquiring the ownership within 24 hours. Don't make trouble here in his name. The Stadia isn't kind to covetous eyes."

The last part of his reply came as a whisper. Merrywick rejoiced, finally able to confirm his conjecture about the relationship between Earl Declan and Lehmann.

Leaning forward an inch with some effort, he whispered back, "If there's a registered deed, quote a price. If there isn't one, fuck off."

A/N: I rewrote the story, mostly changing, adding, and deleting some superficial details to make it flow better and remain consistent. Hence the delay in updates.