Chapter 109
Chapter 109
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 109
Chapter Title: 109. A Dirty Job Full of Variables (3)
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Thud! With that sound, the druid collapsed to the floor.
Oliver moved immediately.
Focusing his senses on his eyes, he saw more than ten intruders inside the villa, searching in pairs.
Fortunately, Jane had just been rescued by the corpse puppets and escaped outside.
But that didn't mean he could afford to relax. Nina, the wielder of the magic gun, had been relentlessly targeting Jane.
First, he needed to draw their attention.
"...May I ask one question?"
Oliver spoke into the communicator, half-hoping for a response. Surprisingly, one came.
[Fuck, how the hell are you still alive? What about Scott?!]
"I got lucky, and Mr. Scott didn't."
[!!!]
He couldn't read emotions through the communicator, but Oliver could sense Nina's agitation.
As if to prove it, a purple magic circle unfolded right in front of him.
[You son of a...!]
Oliver recalled the first time she'd demonstrated her weapon's power.
It had been impressive. Even if it was just the weapon's function, unleashing mana bullets at will was incredibly threatening.
She could attack at the worst possible moment for her enemy while staying safe herself.
However, to aim, she had to look here. And for that, she wore goggles infused with mana.
In other words, she had to look this way before firing.
Oliver ignited the emotions he'd been holding in his hand and unleashed a massive burst of light in an instant.
Black light, brighter than mere light.
It was a slight modification of the fire the puppet had started, and it seemed to work—the purple magic circle slowly faded.
[Arghhh! You bastard—!!!]
"Sorry about that."
As he apologized, Oliver remotely commanded the zombies.
Attack the intruders inside the villa.
The villa's zombies obeyed well, but unfortunately, they lacked the numbers typical of zombies and couldn't fully subdue the intruders.
The intruders handled them competently too—they didn't feel like mere gangsters with guns.
'Well, doesn't matter.'
Oliver issued another command, and the zombies suddenly self-destructed once they closed in on the intruders.
Thud—!! Thud—!! Thud—!!
Dull explosions echoed, followed by screams filling the villa.
The intruders suffered indirect blast damage and infection from the blisters.
It consumed a lot of emotion, but it was undeniably effective. He could use it often when he had emotion to spare.
"You damn bastard...!!"
An intruder suddenly appeared in the hallway and aimed his gun at Oliver.
One side of his face was covered in purple blisters—a fatal level.
It was a pity. Blisters could heal naturally if they didn't reach a certain severity.
But pity aside, business was business.
Oliver swung his quarterstaff to knock the gun barrel upward, then slammed it down on the attacker's face.
On the face swollen with purple blisters.
Splat! The blisters burst with the impact, and the pain must have been excruciating—he screamed, clutching his face as he collapsed.
That gave the next attacker behind him time to raise his gun, but Oliver fired a Hate Bullet a step faster, dropping him, then bashed the first intruder's head with the quarterstaff.
Crack—!
He felt something break, but too busy to care, Oliver dashed forward and leaped out the window.
Gathering the last of his Black Suit on his legs had left him nearly unprotected. He didn't have enough emotion left to reform it.
He'd used more than expected controlling the zombies.
'The druid was right. Black magic lacks sustained combat ability. Need to improve that.'
Oliver organized his thoughts as he extracted emotion to summon a corpse puppet here.
Moments later, it emerged from the forest, carrying Jane in a half-panicked, frozen pose.
"I-Is this... Dave's?"
Jane asked, her voice mixing disgust, shock, fear, and confusion.
She still hadn't grasped the situation.
"Th-Then... the bodyguards—"
"—tried to kill you, right?"
"...Yes."
"From what Mr. Scott said, it seems they betrayed us."
"Scott?"
"Yes, the druid. Green hair."
"...He betrayed us too?"
"Yes, and so did Nina and Duncan, it seems. Not sure exactly when it started, but probably before I arrived at the villa."
Jane's face showed pure shock.
Inside, rage and betrayal burned, mingled with despair, resignation, and emptiness.
"Why...?"
"No idea. Me neither—"
It was then.
Her vision must have recovered, because Nina activated another magic circle, aiming to finish both Oliver and Jane at once.
"Third."
At Oliver's call, Third—wrapped in rags—yanked Jane away.
Then he focused on the magic circle, peering beyond it like with the black magic item 'Watcher's Eye'.
Nina, not fully recovered, blinked with unfocused eyes.
Oliver gathered emotion and conjured a black magic circle right in front of her.
Recalling how Hilton, the Hoffman Family's exclusive black mage, had created one in midair.
Hate Bullets gathered in the black magic circle and, astonishingly, fired, punching a small hole in Nina's chest.
The magic circle vanished anticlimactically.
Jane asked.
"...W-What did you do?"
"Tracked Nina back and shot her first."
Jane fell silent at Oliver's calm tone, then asked again.
"...D-Did you kill her?"
"She has a hole in her chest. Probably."
"........."
Jane clamped her mouth shut at his question. She looked around, and Oliver did the same.
Even focusing his eyes, in this sparsely populated area, no one else remained besides Jane and himself. A relief.
No more enemies, at least.
He still had some life force and emotion left, but against a druid-level foe, he'd be done for. Not a comfortable spot.
'Hmm, what now? First time for this.'
Indeed. Until now, Oliver had just followed orders without much thought. Now, he had to decide.
As he pondered, a familiar yet strange voice spoke.
"Fuck... This is insane. For real."
He turned to see pink-haired Jane with a grave expression.
A stark contrast to her usual beaming smile.
"...How about we move first?"
"What? No... Huh? What'd you say?"
"I asked if we shouldn't leave this place. They're dead set on killing you, so staying put seems risky. We should get out—at least, that's what I think."
Jane wore a subtle expression.
"...You're going to help me in this situation?"
"...? Not helping. Just doing my job. Wasn't I hired to protect you? For the next... five days."
She stared at him with disbelief.
As if it was the last thing she expected. Oliver wondered if he'd said something wrong.
"Uh... And you've taught me so many interesting things."
A brief silence.
Jane let out a short "Ha—."
Fresher and more genuine than her usual smile.
"Guess people aren't meant to just die... But where do we go?"
"Well, back to Randa? Anyone you can ask for help?"
Jane bit her lower lip, deep in thought.
The girlish innocence of the past few days was gone, replaced by the face she'd worn among the waitstaff at Cocona Angel's Home. It felt like seeing her true self now.
He liked it.
"Ugh... There is one place."
"Doesn't sound appealing."
"Yeah, not really. But no choice. Sometimes you gotta. Randa's far from here, though. Got a way?"
Instead of answering, Oliver pointed to the car parked in front of the villa.
"You can drive?"
"Yes, learned for half a day."
"...Half a day?"
"Yes, half a day."
Beep-click!
Duncan snatched up the communicator the moment it signaled.
A secret device from Hermes Corp—only top-four navigators could trace it. Expensive stuff.
Corporations, fixers, gangs, politicians bought them for shady jobs. Like now.
[Boss.]
"Yeah, status?"
[Looks like a failure.]
"...What?"
Duncan was uncharacteristically shocked.
It was supposed to be foolproof.
Five bribed bodyguards, a druid, top fixers like Nina with her magic gun.
Even three Pinkman teams as backup.
No way three fixers and bodyguards could stop that, even if she was rising in fame—especially with an ignorant girl to protect.
Yet the communicator poured out contradictions.
[Just checked the villa interior. All our guys are dead.]
"Details."
[Scott the druid is half-rotted. Decaying flesh and blood everywhere. Half the Pinkmen turned zombie and dropped, the rest blown apart or rotted... Even Nina in the panic room has a hole through her chest. Dead.]
"........."
Duncan went silent.
Shocked, but his mind kept turning.
Drawing on his old Pinkman executive days, he analyzed the report.
"No bodies besides ours?"
[...Mana fighter Russell, dead vomiting vines. Veteran fixer Godric too.]
"So Jane and the black mage are gone."
[Yes. No cars left either—probably fled in one.]
"........."
Duncan pondered again.
Who'd have thought the whore's black mage would sabotage like this.
He'd known it wasn't a scrub from his investigations, but this exceeded expectations.
Thought pinning him down with close-combat ace Scott before he could deploy puppets would crush him. Miscalculation.
Even so, taking out Nina and three Pinkman teams? How?
Duncan wondered if those rumors linking Dave the black mage to puppets were true.
'No way that's real...'
"Hey, what's going on?"
Duncan turned at the voice.
There sat an old woman clinging to youth via pricey magic items, with her son and daughter.
"...A slight issue."
"Issue?"
Blatant contempt in her gaze—the look only nobles could pull off.
"...This is a problem, Duncan. You gotta do the job right if you want paid."
"...Don't worry. It's within expectations."
"Expectations?"
"Yes. Just trust me. She'll have to come back to this city eventually. Excuse me."
Duncan left without waiting for a reply. They needed him—that's why they hired him. No need to grovel more.
Indeed, Mrs. Rock and her two kids just scowled, unable to stop him. Ignoring them, he stepped out, pressed button 3, and called someone.
Beep-beep-beep. Finally, click.
[What makes you call me?]
"Like I said last time—give you shares. Help me out."