I Am A Wizard Who Can Travel Between Earth And The Other World-Chapter 38 - 40 The Second Mission (2)

Reluctantly, Joseph nodded. "The ingredients are similar enough, so yes, it wouldn't matter. But…"

"You're not saying their transport runs on the same schedule as yours, are you?" Desmond's tone was probing yet calm.

"No," Joseph replied. "They're moving their shipment the day after tomorrow. Ours follows the day after that."

Desmond's lips curled into a faint, calculating smile. "Perfect. If we hit them first and erase all traces, they won't know who did it."

Despite the calm confidence in Desmond's voice, unease gnawed at Joseph. He knew the man's skills were extraordinary, but could even someone like him pull off such a bold operation?

Desmond stroked his chin thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "This Merentil… they seem willing to stop at nothing.

I'm surprised they're bothering with Astra at all. Wouldn't it be simpler for them to sabotage the top player instead?"

Joseph let out a dry laugh, as though the suggestion were absurd. "No one touches the first place."

Desmond's brows furrowed slightly. "And why is that?"

Before Joseph could answer, Jay, who had been sitting quietly to the side, slapped his chest in exasperation. "Come on! Don't you know? The top spot belongs to one of the Five Great Houses!"

The Five Great Houses? Desmond concealed his ignorance behind a small smirk.

Something about the term made him feel that revealing his lack of knowledge would be unwise.

Jay seemed emboldened, taking Desmond's silence as an invitation to explain further.

"You really don't know? The Five Great Houses are the ones who control everything.

They've ruled this world for as long as anyone can remember."

"Control everything?" Desmond echoed, intrigued.

"Exactly! Each of the Five Great Houses governs an entire sector of this world, with countless subordinate families under their banner.

They're the true rulers of every city, even though most people only see the local governments."

"Sounds like conspiracy nonsense," Desmond remarked, his tone neutral but probing.

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Jay scoffed. "Conspiracy? No way. It's just the way things are. Everyone knows it. Take this city, for example. Sure, it's run by elected officials on paper, but the real power lies with one of the Five Great Houses. They own everything worth owning."

"And people just accept that?" Desmond asked, his curiosity sharpening.

"They don't have a choice," Jay said with a shrug. "It's the truth. It's always been that way, so no one questions it."

As Jay rambled on, he revealed that the Five Great Houses not only controlled the political and economic frameworks of this mirrored world but also protected it. "They're the ones who deal with the colossal beasts—the kind of monsters no ordinary human could ever hope to face. Without them, we'd all be doomed."

At this, Desmond's expression grew thoughtful.

The concept of these five ruling families stirred something inexplicable within him—a faint unease he couldn't quite place.

"And let me tell you," Jay added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "the Five Great Houses have some of the most terrifyingly powerful individuals you'll ever meet. True monsters."

Now, Desmond's curiosity was fully alight. He wanted to see these so-called "monsters" with his own eyes. He wanted to understand the Five Great Houses and the true extent of their power.

The discussion with Joseph concluded, and after sealing their agreement, Desmond and Jay left Astra Pharmaceuticals and found a nearby restaurant. Jay, still frazzled from the earlier meeting, devoured his meal with unrestrained fervor. In contrast, Desmond ate sparingly and patiently waited for Jay to finish.

Once Jay leaned back with a satisfied sigh, patting his full stomach, Desmond spoke, his voice steady and curious. "What exactly are the Five Great Houses?"

Jay froze mid-pat, staring at Desmond in disbelief. "Wait. Are you serious? You don't know?"

Desmond nodded, his face calm, though his curiosity was genuine. Jay's astonishment deepened. "You've really never heard of them? The families that rule the world?"

"Rule the world?" Desmond repeated, his voice carrying an edge of incredulity.

"Yeah," Jay replied, his tone growing somber. "No one knows how long they've been in power, but they've always been there.

And their influence isn't just political—they control everything.

Trade, magic, even who lives and dies in some places. They're the foundation of this world."

Desmond nodded slowly, taking it all in.

The idea of a hidden hierarchy governing the cities of this world intrigued him more than he cared to admit. "And people don't resist?"

"Resist?" Jay laughed bitterly. "Why would they? The Five Great Houses don't just rule—they protect.

Without them, those colossal beasts would destroy us all. Trust me, you don't want to cross them."

For the first time in years, Desmond felt something stir within him—a deep, driving need to uncover the truth. Who were these families? What kind of power did they truly wield? And more importantly… what role might they play in his journey?

Desmond's decision to strike Merentil first was simple: he wanted to return home sooner. The thought of staying here for a month, perhaps even longer if they opted for a purely defensive strategy, felt intolerable. Besides, there was no guarantee that defense alone would solve the problem.

A swift, decisive strike offered a cleaner path. Taking out one of Merentil's mages in a surprise attack would tilt the balance.

From there, handling the remaining mage while fortifying Astra's defenses would turn the tide entirely. Even Astra Pharmaceuticals, flawed as it might be, would quickly find a way to replenish its security team once the immediate threat was neutralized.

For his plan to succeed, however, the convoy Merentil sent tomorrow needed to include a mage. That was a prerequisite. To ensure this, Desmond tasked Jay with a critical operation—spreading whispers of their impending attack. This wasn't just about preparation; it was a test of Jay's abilities as well.

If Merentil caught wind of the rumors, there was a strong chance they'd dispatch a mage with their transport. If they didn't? Well, then Desmond would wait for the next opportunity. After all, the second attempt would almost certainly force Merentil to bolster their defenses further.

The operation was fast approaching. With the transport scheduled for tomorrow, Jay's work had to be completed by the end of the day. For now, Desmond waited at a café near Astra's headquarters, sipping from a steaming cup of coffee. He winced after taking a sip.

"Damn," he muttered, setting the cup down with a sigh. "I've spoiled myself. Nothing else compares anymore."

The problem wasn't the coffee itself—it was the fact that Desmond's own coffee was leagues better.

His mastery of enchantments extended even to brewing, infusing his creations with a precision no ordinary barista could replicate.

It wasn't as simple as pouring raw magical energy into the drink; the process involved painstakingly crafted enchantments refined through endless trial and error.

His Café Wizard recipes were a work of art.

Lost in his thoughts, Desmond glanced up and noticed Jay sprinting toward the café, his face red and glistening with sweat.

The broker burst through the door, panting heavily as he made his way to Desmond's table.

"Well?" Desmond asked without preamble.

Jay waved a hand, gasping for breath. "Hold on… let me catch my breath… and maybe get something cold to drink first."

"Suit yourself," Desmond replied nonchalantly.

As Jay stood to place his order, Desmond added, "Tomato juice for me."

Jay glanced at Desmond's untouched coffee with an incredulous expression. "You've barely touched that."

Desmond stared back, unfazed. With a resigned shake of his head, Jay muttered under his breath, "Fine, fine. I'm the guilty one, clearly. What a tyrant."

After returning with their drinks, Jay's tone turned serious. "I've done all I can."

"And the odds?" Desmond asked.

Jay hesitated for a moment before responding. "Seventy percent, give or take."

Desmond's eyes widened slightly. Seventy percent was a solid chance—good enough to gamble on. In a game, seventy percent odds were as close to a sure thing as one could hope for.

"Good enough," Desmond said, leaning back. "I'll start preparing."

"What do you need me to do?" Jay asked.

"I'll handle the preparations. You focus on keeping tabs on any last-minute changes."