Bewitchment

"Why choose me?"

Examining the business card in his hand, Manster asked with a beaming smile.

"Because I think you can do it."

Coleman bit down on his straw, speaking in a muffled, indistinct voice.

Tilting his head, Manster teased, "You trust me that much?"

"No."

"?"

Coleman turned back, looking straight at the boy who was much taller than himself.

He spoke calmly: "I trust myself more."

I believe in my own judgment, therefore I believe in you.

A very arrogant statement.

Manster was taken aback by the answer, blinking as he stared at the expressionless child.

Suddenly, he burst into loud laughter.

He laughed until he was swaying back and forth, unable to stop.

Coleman just waited for him quietly.

Without a word.

Manster wiped away the tears brought on by his laughter and said with a smile, "Alright, since you're so confident."

How much sincerity lay behind that casual agreement, only the speaker himself knew.

He spoke with deep meaning: "Then, little boss, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Coleman set down the cup in his hand, turned his head to look at the man, and said with a face full of seriousness: "I know you don't trust me, but that doesn't matter; it won't affect our cooperation."

The juice in the cup sloshed against the glass walls due to Coleman's less-than-gentle movement.

Watching the red liquid ripple incessantly, Coleman continued: "I don't know your origins, your background, or even your habits, but none of that matters. As long as you possess the qualities I want, we can reach this deal."

A deal is, after all, a matter of mutual consent; as long as both sides find it fair and reasonable, that is enough.

There is no need to dig up the other party's entire history.

Party A and Party B, if they see eye to eye, one provides the money, the other provides the effort.

If one side feels it isn't working out, they simply part ways.

"So, what do you want?"

Manster didn't respond to that, merely asking calmly.

"Or rather, what do you need me to do?"

Coleman stared at the other's smiling face and began to smile himself, holding out a gold coin.

"I don't need you to do anything. You only need to be yourself and successfully grow. Until you do, you can treat the Layton Family as your backing, and I will provide you with a certain amount of money to ensure your basic living expenses. Of course, I would be very happy if you never ended up needing my financial support."

What Coleman needed was a sound, independent-minded intelligence partner.

Not a superior and a subordinate.

The rigid relationship of a superior and subordinate was not suitable for two people whose mental states could be unstable at any given moment.

They needed relative freedom.

Most importantly, Coleman wanted to observe something.

Up until now, all the intelligence brokers he had met were already fully developed, self-contained 'merchants'.

But Coleman didn't want that kind of rigid 'information peddler'.

He wanted someone free, crazy, and driven to collect information not for money.

Collecting information simply because information is important, and because this person needs these things to stir up trouble.

Not for survival or wealth.

To put it more clearly, Coleman wanted to see someone who could disrupt the world based on their own subjective interests.

Because they hold the intelligence, they would have some knowledge of most events happening or about to happen in the world.

And because of that, they could 'leak' these things to whomever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

Imagine if Organization A wanted to attack B, and this person told Organizations B, C, D, and E.

Then A would very likely be swarmed by the other organizations.

And on the eve of that swarm, if he leaked that Organization C was planning to frame A for attacking B, and that this information was told to him by Organization E...

Needless to say, one could imagine how chaotic those organizations would become.

And that was only five organizations.

What if it were ten, or a hundred large organizations?

What if it were five countries?

The consequences of that need not be stated.

Coleman had always wanted to be friends with such a person.

He wanted to explore the mind and thoughts of someone like that, as well as the path of their schemes.

But unfortunately, thus far, Coleman, who had lived two lifetimes, had never met such a person.

Yet at this moment, Coleman believed the person sitting before him had the potential to become exactly that.

Therefore, in order to meet this "friend" of his dreams, Coleman decided to "cultivate" him himself.

He believed he was merely giving a push.

Just like watering and fertilizing a sapling that was about to die.

Doing nothing more than a few harmless things.

"But in that case, you won't receive any return at all."

Manster shook his head in disapproval.

This was clearly a losing deal.

No merchant would ever be willing to make a losing investment.

"What if I grow up and run away, or refuse to acknowledge the debt?"

"It doesn't matter."

Sipping his juice, Coleman answered swiftly.

Without a second of hesitation, he added, "Do you cultivate a flower just so it will bear fruit and repay you?"

Not necessarily.

"Perhaps you just want to see how beautiful it is when it blooms, don't you?"

As an artist by his own definition, Coleman had always been very patient.

He believed that if an artist didn't even have the time to wait for a flower to bloom, how could he appreciate the beauty of the world?

If so, his canvas would surely be devoid of meaning and vitality.

Nothing more than a scrap of waste paper.

"Besides, trust me, you will absolutely not choose to betray me. And you will absolutely repay me."

With a smile, Coleman said with certainty.

After all, this was no ordinary flower.

If he truly developed in the direction Coleman had set for him.

Then he would be nothing more than a vine leaning against a great tree.

If the vine leaves the tree, how can it climb upward?

Having lived enough days dancing on the edge of a blade, how could he enjoy mediocrity?

Therefore, as long as he wanted to continue teasing the nerves of other "tigers," he would have to rely on Leyton, the even larger tiger.

In that case, it wouldn't be very difficult for Coleman to manipulate him, would it?

Of course, if Manster could truly grow to the point of escaping Coleman's control, Coleman would only feel joy and excitement.

Because then, this experiment would be a successful one, and Manster would be Coleman's greatest successful experiment.

By then, Coleman would have brought a giant bomb that could be detonated at any time into this world.

That would be a very interesting thing.

Living every day in a world on the razor's edge of life and death—isn't that interesting?

Conversely, it wouldn't be a loss either; Coleman would have successfully cultivated a qualified intelligence broker.

Deranged, yet obedient.

Why not?

In short, no matter what, Coleman himself would not lose.

Watching the person before him still deep in thought, Coleman smiled faintly and tossed his business card onto the table.

"Once you've thought it through, go to this address and look for someone. Just say Coleman sent you, and someone will receive you."

"Of course, if you refuse, you can just throw this scrap of paper away and pretend nothing happened today."

"That's all, little sir. Good night, I'll be going now."

With that, Coleman placed a bag of gold coins on the table, bowed slightly, maintained a perfectly measured smile, and without waiting for a reply, left on his own.

Leaving Manster alone, staring blankly at the gold coins.

Once Coleman stepped out of the tavern, his facial expression vanished instantly.

His face was cold and indifferent.

A bit of a headache.

He scratched his head, thinking silently to himself.

He really didn't know if what his master taught him would work.

Regardless, he had already gone through the entire routine.

Feigning weakness to get close, finding topics of conversation, using bewitching words, maintaining an air of mystery, delivering a firm provocation, and then cutting it all off abruptly.

Finally, leaving without a shred of mercy to create a "hard-to-get" effect.

Leaving the other party to let their imagination run wild.

According to his master, this was an exceptionally useful negotiation tactic.

Generally, anyone with a screw loose would take the bait.

However, Coleman had only ever used this trick to catch fish back in the day.

Not to mention, the results were fantastic.

Walking sluggishly down the street, Coleman felt somewhat lethargic.

He hoped his master hadn't lied to him.

Otherwise, a promising talent might just run off with his money.