He had short, tousled black hair, thick black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, a well-fitting set of casual clothes, and a pair of leather shoes.
The Abyss Magic Dragon had transformed into a burly man and followed closely behind him.
"Sir, I don't understand."
As he spoke, the dragon jogged to keep up with the man's pace.
"What don't you understand?" the man asked without turning around.
"Why would someone as noble and powerful as you register as a hitman with the Assassin Guild, an organization of mere mortals?" the dragon asked cautiously.
"Haha, isn't it fun? I get to earn money and travel legally through all the worlds," the man said.
Lowering his voice, the dragon said, "Sir, if you need money, I can guarantee that all the wealth in the entire Contention Zone will belong to you."
"Tsk, you still don't get it. What matters isn't the money, but the pleasure of killing for it. Besides, the Assassin Guild has a certain clue I'm looking for," the man said, narrowing his eyes.
He suddenly stopped, pulled a thick book from his clothes, and opened it before him.
On the page was a drawing of a young man with four long swords floating behind him.
The young man was facing the void, seemingly conversing with a nebula.
The scene was slowly fading away, until it could no longer be made out.
"Strange. Fate and spacetime really are fluctuating violently, but my Fate Prediction Book shouldn't be obscured by the chaos of the times."
As he spoke, the man suddenly fell silent.
A new scene appeared in the book.
At one end was the Soul Screamer, with the face of a man and a woman.
At the other end, a young woman carrying a staff was hiding in a panic,