Ron first glanced toward the spot where the bald gang leader was standing, then put his plan into motion.
He feigned panic and bent down to retrieve the pen from the floor.
His steps suddenly faltered, as though nerves had made him clumsy, and the toe of his shoe struck the pen with perfect accuracy.
It rolled across the polished wooden floor and came to a stop beside the gang leader’s feet.
“What are you doing?” Eugene snapped, frowning irritably.
“That pen was expensive!
Can you afford to replace it if you break it?”
Behind Ron, Wes and Makarov had seen every tiny movement clearly.
Makarov watched in confusion, unsure what Ron was trying to accomplish.
Was he merely stalling for time?
Wes, on the other hand, widened his eyes.
After witnessing Ron’s earlier tricks, he had a very bad feeling about what was coming next.
“S-Sorry!
I’m so nervous that my hands and feet aren’t cooperating today.”
Ron bowed repeatedly as he apologized, then slowly shuffled toward the gang leader.
After reaching the man’s side and picking up the pen, he did not immediately return to the desk.
Instead, he raised his head and stared directly at him.
The bald man grew uneasy under his gaze.
Ron’s eyes looked perfectly clear and innocent on the surface, but the man’s instincts warned him that the boy was planning something.
“What are you staring at?
Is there something on my face?”
Ron continued looking at him with pure concern.
“Mister, it looks like you’re having trouble with your leg.
I’m very good at massage therapy.
Let me help you.”
“…What?!”
The gang leader’s eyes flew open, but before he could refuse, Ron eagerly got to work.
He moved closer to the man’s right leg.
Drawing upon the anatomical knowledge granted by Reigen’s character card, Ron pressed one hand against the injured muscles while the fingers of his other hand found several of the most painful pressure points.
Then he pressed down as hard as he could.
“AAAAAGH!”
The sudden agony made the gang leader’s jaw drop and his eyes nearly bulge from their sockets.
Eugene was so startled by the scream that he leaped out of his chair.
The other gang members froze as well, unable to understand what had just happened.
Ron pressed his advantage, looking up with a perfectly serious expression.
“It’s supposed to hurt, Mister!
That means the trapped blood is starting to circulate again.
I’ll loosen the tendon for you too, and you’ll feel better in no time!”
Before the man could protest, Ron reached behind his knee and grabbed the displaced tendon.
He began forcefully pushing and pulling it back into place.
Creak—
The horrible mixture of soreness and pain left the gang leader helpless.
Every pull made him double over, while every push forced his back straight again.
Cold sweat poured down his face.
Only when their boss began flopping around like a fish dragged onto dry land did his men finally rush forward to pull Ron away.
“L-Let go!
LET GO!”
The gang leader could barely form a sentence through the pain.
He flailed his thick arms wildly, desperately ordering Ron to release him.
Ron decided the timing was right and let go a moment early.
One of the man’s swinging arms lightly brushed his cheek.
“Ow!
That hurt!”
Ron clutched his face with both hands and threw himself backward.
He kicked off the floor, sailed through the air in a small arc, and landed beside Makarov and Wes before rolling once to a stop.
The moment Ron released him, the worst of the pain in the gang leader’s leg finally subsided.
He drew several ragged breaths before opening his eyes.
Only then did he notice Ron lying on the floor.
He frowned in utter confusion.
What had just happened?
Ron carefully arranged himself on the wooden floor, stared blankly at the gang members, then turned toward Makarov with wide, innocent eyes.
“Master Makarov, I was only trying to help his injured leg, and he hit me!
What should I do?”
Everyone in the room went silent.
The gang leader stared at his own massive arm, feeling horribly wronged.
‘Don’t pin this on me!
I barely touched you!’
Unfortunately, his subordinates immediately began shouting in his defense.
“You should be grateful, brat!
The boss held back because you’re just a kid!”
“If he hadn’t gone easy on you, that slap would’ve killed you!”
The bald man almost choked on his frustration.
‘Stop talking you bastard!
I didn’t hit him!’
Did these idiots ever think before opening their mouths?
Makarov drew in a sharp breath.
‘Don’t think I missed what you did.
You deliberately went over there!’
The boy was still lying on the floor while secretly signaling him with his eyes.
‘You little brat—you set me up!’
Wes looked horrified.
His bad feeling had come true.
This situation had spiraled far beyond anything he could control!
Behind his desk, Eugene finally understood Ron’s intentions.
“Master White, are you refusing to sign and deliberately wasting time?”
Still holding his cheek, Ron looked at him with wounded innocence.
“You had me beaten, and you still expect me to sign?!
“Are you trying to bully an honest child?”
A vein bulged on Eugene’s forehead.
“Fine!
Drag him back over here and make him sign!
Otherwise, you can forget about receiving the rest of your payment!”
“Come on!
Let’s teach that brat a lesson for the boss!”
The gang members eagerly responded and charged toward Ron’s group.
Most people would have dropped to their knees and begged for mercy when faced with so many attackers.
Unfortunately for them, Makarov was not most people.
He remained perfectly calm and suddenly burst into laughter.
“All right, kid.
I’ll play along.”
The other side had attacked first.
As the Master of the Fairy Tail Guild, protecting his clients now counted as entirely justified self-defense.
Ron nodded, sprang to his feet, grabbed Wes by the arm, and immediately ran for the door.
“We’ll leave the rest to you, Master Makarov!”
Wes stumbled after him, repeatedly glancing back at Makarov with worry.
Makarov turned his back to the doorway and faced the entire gang alone.
His smile had vanished, his brows were drawn tight, and several veins throbbed across his forehead.
“You brats want to hurt my clients?
Did you think to ask me first?”
Magic surged from his body.
The wooden floor beneath his feet erupted in dazzling blue light as a massive magic circle spread across the entire room.
The pressure from his magic swept through the office, making Wes suck in a sharp breath.
He immediately stopped looking back and hurried after Ron.
The brilliant magic circle froze everyone else in place.
Eugene’s eyes widened.
When that overwhelming magic pressure washed over him, he finally remembered why the white-haired old man had looked so familiar.
He had seen him in magic magazines as a child.
That was Makarov Dreyar, Master of Fairy Tail—and one of the Ten Wizard Saints!
Cold sweat broke out across Eugene’s face.
He dove under his desk and curled up, trembling uncontrollably.
The gang leader and his men were far less informed.
They had no idea who Makarov was.
All they knew was that the previously tiny old man was rapidly expanding beneath the glow of his magic, his body growing larger and larger.
When his enormous shadow covered everyone in the room, the gang leader finally realized he had provoked someone he should never have touched.
Boom!
Ron managed to drag Wes out of the legal office and onto the broad street just in time.
Before either of them could catch their breath, a deafening crash erupted behind them.
The street beneath their feet trembled.
Nearby pedestrians stopped in alarm and turned toward the building.
The sound of wood splintering continued from inside the legal office.
Dust poured through the gaps, while every impact sent another cloud rolling across the ground.
Ron watched with relief and murmured, “Master Makarov really knows how to make an mess.
Running outside was definitely the right decision.”
Using one of the Ten Wizard Saints to deal with a handful of street thugs was the very definition of using a cannon to swat a fly.
Beside him, Wes stared with his mouth hanging open.
He had never imagined that Makarov was a Mage of such overwhelming power.
Still stunned, he slowly turned toward Ron.
“Director…
didn’t you confidently say that you were going to negotiate with the lawyer yourself and personally resolve the debt problem?”
What exactly had all that acting inside been for?
Ron straightened his tie and waved dismissively, showing no concern whatsoever for his previous declaration.
“Of course I couldn’t solve it myself.
When outside help is available, you use it.
“With a commotion this large, the Magic Council has probably already been alerted.
The case isn’t our problem anymore.”
Faced with such shameless honesty, Wes raised a thumb in admiration.
Young Master Ron might not possess the former director’s elegance and dignity, but he was undoubtedly reliable!
Ron ignored Wes’s worshipful gaze and summoned the system interface with a thought.
[Current Roleplay Completion: 86%.]
Ron nearly jumped for joy.
Less than a full day had passed, yet his completion rate had already reached eighty-six percent!
His string of schemes had clearly convinced the system that he had successfully embodied Reigen’s defining traits.
As long as he continued behaving this way, reaching one hundred percent and permanently obtaining the A-rank Learning Aptitude was only a matter of time.
At that moment, the chaos inside Angel’s Covenant Legal Office finally stopped.
The sounds of breaking furniture faded into silence.
Creak—
The half-destroyed wooden door slowly opened.
Makarov emerged from the cloud of dust, having returned to his normal size.
Eugene hung unconscious from one hand, his eyes rolled back and foam leaking from his mouth.
In the other, Makarov dragged the equally unconscious gang leader, whose lips were stained with blood.
Makarov brushed the dust from his clothes and looked up.
Ron stood nearby, smiling brightly and waving at him.
Makarov sighed.
The sight of the boy nearly made him laugh from sheer exasperation.
“You’re a clever little brat.
You knew I’d make a mess once I started fighting, so you ran outside first.”
Ron immediately walked over as though they were old friends, leaned against Makarov’s shoulder, and began vigorously massaging it with both hands.
“Thank you for your hard work, Master Makarov!
As the Master of a Mage Guild, your strength was never in doubt.
“We can leave the forged debts and attempted assault to the Magic Council when they arrive.”
Ron pressed with all the strength in his thumbs, but Makarov’s shoulder muscles did not budge in the slightest.
Instead, Ron’s own thumbs began to ache.
“Hmph.
I still underestimated how thick-skinned you are,” Makarov grumbled.
“Now I’m starting to think your second commission won’t be pleasant either.”
“How about I introduce you to another Mage Guild?”
Makarov was genuinely wary now.
The boy had manipulated him during their very first commission.
If he accepted a second one, who knew what kind of trouble Ron would cause next?
Ron flexed his sore thumbs.
Once he realized the massage was useless, he quickly moved in front of Makarov and smiled.
“Are you sure you want to refuse the second commission, Master Makarov?
It’s a highly profitable, long-term job.”
“It might even solve Fairy Tail’s financial problems.”
At the words highly profitable, Makarov’s ears visibly twitched.
He lowered his head in thought before answering.
“Tell me what the commission involves first.
Then I’ll decide whether to accept it.”
Ron smiled with complete confidence.
“Of course.
I’ll explain the long-term commission in detail, but first…”
Makarov raised one bushy white eyebrow.
“But first what?”
Ron turned and glanced at the nearly ruined remains of Angel’s Covenant Legal Office.
“You’ll need to recommend another legal office to me—one that can actually be trusted this time.”
“I’d rather not get scammed again!”