Back before I reincarnated into this fixer world, there was a time Iughed out loud watching a certain short video.


    The video was simple.


    Someone would randomly pick a fight with a passerby, then, as if ovee by emotion, strip off their clothes to reveal a ridiculous men’s bikini underneath.


    At this point, most of the people who were picked on would understandably panic and run away.


    It was the natural reaction.


    If the person you’re arguing with suddenly strips down to a bikini that emphasizes all the wrong ces, pride or not, running is the only sensible option.


    “Please, wait! Ghost, I just want to talk to you!”


    “…!”


    Ironically, I feel the same way now.A dripping wet blond musclehead in a bathrobe chasing me through the back alleys—what kind of horrifying situation is this?


    I wasn’t exaggerating when I thought I might actually have nightmares about this.


    Thank goodness I can’t speak right now. Otherwise, I might’ve screamed.


    I pushed and pulled myself upward using telekinesis, scaling the walls with finesse to reach the rooftop.


    Of course, it would’ve been much easier to just lift my body with telekinesis like I usually did.


    But with potential witnesses in the area, openly using my powers wasn’t a wise choice.


    Screech! Creak…!


    “…?”


    A strange sound echoed behind me.


    It was a rough, scraping noise, like something grating against a surface.


    I didn’t stop moving, but I turned my head slightly to nce back—and there he was.


    The flying pervert.


    “Hahahaha! You’re fast, Ghost!”


    Flying now? This guy can fly? A flying pervert?!


    I squinted at him, my face full of exhaustion and disbelief.


    That’s when I realized he wasn’t actually flying—he was swinging through the air like Tarzan in an old movie, using some kind of grappling gun.


    …A grappling gun? Isn’t that something out of aic book?


    A grappling gun.


    I knew about them from my knowledge of the original world.


    It’s a tool that fires an anchor with a rope attached, allowing the user to move quickly in a space full of buildings.


    In the original story, it was considered an essential piece of equipment for skilled fixers.


    While it was challenging to use effectively, it provided unmatched mobility when mastered.


    In other words, despite his ridiculous appearance, this guy was clearly more capable than he looked.


    I mentally raised the danger level of this blond weirdo by one notch.


    If I recall, grappling guns have two key weaknesses. First, they require proper parabolic movement to build speed. Second, they’re practically useless on t ground with no elevation difference.


    I quickly visualized theyout of the area in my mind.


    Since I usually traveled by rooftop, the geography of this neighborhood was practically etched into my brain.


    Time to head to the jungle gym zone. It’ll be hard for him to use the grappling gun there.


    I immediately made a beeline for the dense cluster of buildings with minimal height differences.


    To climb the exterior walls, he’d have to take a long detour, and once he reached the rooftops, he wouldn’t be able to use the grappling gun effectively.


    This was the perfect route to lose him.


    As I predicted, the blond pervert’s presence disappeared not long after.


    Finally, he was gone.


    Relieved, I gradually slowed down and came to a stop.


    After briefly scanning my surroundings, I gracefully leapt down into an alley below.


    That should do it.


    What a terrifying person.


    A dripping blond musclehead in a bathrobe, swinging around with a grappling gun—absolutely horrifying.


    I shook my head firmly and began walking out of the alley.


    Or at least, I tried to—until I heard that all-too-familiar sound again, getting closer.


    Screech! Creak…! Screech! Creak…!


    “There you are, Ghost! Hahahaha! Let’s talk!”


    “….”


    I hate this guy.


    Why is he so obsessed with talking to me?


    He was even wetter than before, probably from sweating, and his bathrobe was now so soaked that his skin showed faintly through it—a disgusting sight that made my eyes want to rot.


    Without hesitation, I turned and bolted down the alley again, all while confirming a suspicion I’d had earlier.


    This guy knows my exact location. Since when? How?


    The second encounter could’ve been chalked up to coincidence.


    But three times in a row? That was no ident.


    It was clear that he had some method of tracking me.


    The only question is, why isn’t he hiding that fact? If he waited until I returned to my hideout and ambushed me when I let my guard down, it’d be far more effective.


    Did he have some other goal?


    Could it be that he wasn’t after revenge for my petty thefts and genuinely wanted to talk?


    …No reason to trust that. Letting your guard down here is a quick way to get stabbed in the back.


    I recalled a woman I had saved recently. She had approached to thank me—then suddenly fired a crossbow she had hidden on her wrist.


    Luckily, my telekic jamming disrupted the projectile’s trajectory, or I might’ve ended up with a hole in my soft stomach.


    In this ce, blindly trusting someone’s words was something only fools who wanted to die would do.


    It was far better to beat them up and force the truth out of them.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    This guy seems like a fixer, though. That’s a bit concerning. Still, if he’s obscure enough to not appear in the original story, he can’t be that important. I’ll subdue him first and ask questionster.


    Having made my decision, I stopped running and deactivated my telekic jamming.


    While this ability was great for hiding, it didn’t help much in a fight.


    Better to allocate those resources toward firepower.


    The blond pervert seemed to notice the change in me.


    He gracefullynded on the ground with his grappling gun, raising an eyebrow in surprise.


    “Oh? You’ve changed your appearance. Is that your true form? …You’re smaller than I expected.”


    “….”


    “Ah, did I touch a nerve? My apologies. I never imagined the Ghost would be so petite.”


    Touch a nerve?


    Not at all.


    It’s true that I’m small andpact.


    In fact, it’s incredibly efficient—less food to eat means lower living expenses.


    Here, that’s more of a strength than a weakness.


    Plus, I’ve got a pretty face, psychic powers, and no realints aside from being unable to talk.


    Really.


    Noints at all.


    …Anyway, whether it bothers me or not, you’re getting hit.


    I clenched my teeth and used telekinesis to grip the air in front of the blond pervert’s forehead.


    Then, pouring more emotion into it than usual, I delivered a full-force telekic flick.


    “Hm? What’s this so—thunk!”


    Smack!


    The blond pervert’s head snapped backward from the impact.


    A perfect sneak attack that exploited his moment of unawareness.


    Using the data from all my past petty thefts, I was confident that the blond pervert would be knocked out cold.


    The force of my telekic flick was strong enough to crack ss if itnded properly.


    It wouldn’t be lethal, but it was more than enough to render someone unconscious.


    “Kuh… Kuhuhuhu… That was… quite a sting.”


    But my expectations were utterly shattered.


    To my astonishment, the blond pervert slowly straightened his head, which had been thrown back from the impact.


    His forehead, reddened from the flick, was now adorned with a wide grin that revealed his teeth.


    He withstood that? How thick is his skull?!


    I stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide, unable toprehend what had just happened.


    “What was that just now? Silent magic? Judging by the force, I’d say it was meant to knock me out… Hahaha! You’re growing on me, Ghost!”


    “….”


    A pervert who enjoys getting hit? Seriously?


    Overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the situation, I shook off my shock and refocused.


    If one flick wasn’t enough, I’d just have to keep hitting him until he passed out.


    Drawing on my telekinesis again, I delivered another flick to the exact same spot.


    “Hrmp!”


    However, as if anticipating it, the blond pervert stepped back at the perfect moment, just before the flicknded.


    The telekic blow, having lost its target, harmlessly sliced through the empty air.


    If I had acted even a fraction faster, I could have readjusted the flick’s trajectory.


    If I’d been any slower, he wouldn’t have avoided it at all.


    It was the absolute perfect timing for an evasion.


    Only two flicks in, and my most reliable technique had been effortlessly countered.


    My eyebrow twitched in frustration at how futile it had all been.


    “As I thought. There’s a subtle shift in sound just before the attack. You’re manipting air, aren’t you? Disappearing, moving like you’re flying—it’s all applications of the same magic!”


    What… What did he just say?


    With only two instances of my telekic flick, he had deduced the fundamentals of my ability with eerie uracy.


    I gaped at him, stunned by his absurd reasoning skills.


    Could this actually be the average level of a Nighthaven fixer?


    For a moment, I felt a wave of relief that I’d been so cautious about hiding my telekinesis.


    That being said, this is bad. The telekic flick is the strongest technique I can use without revealing my powers outright. If that doesn’t work… What now?


    This was a crisis.


    I could try to run away, but my telekinesis had a time limit, and he was somehow tracking me anyway.


    To figure out how he was tracking me, I’d need to take him down—but I had no means to do that.


    On top of it all, I couldn’t even speak, so negotiating was out of the question.


    What, should I just show myself and surrender?


    That was a crazy idea. Not knowing who this guy was, surrendering would be downright reckless.


    I need… something.


    A sh of inspiration. A stroke of genius that could either help me escape or take him down.


    At that moment, a gentle breeze brushed against my cheek.


    The wind rustled a piece of white fabric fluttering in the distance.


    The breeze must’ve felt cold on his damp body, as the blond pervert took a moment to retie the belt of his slightly loosened bathrobe.


    The wind, the bathrobe-d pervert, and his mysterious tracking method.


    An idea suddenly lit up in my mind like a spark.


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