Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Edith (3)
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"What's wrong?"
Edith, clad only in running shorts and panties, leaned back in her chair and asked.
"Well... I just didn't expect dinner to be like this."
Oliver replied as he entered the room, watching the staff lay out a pristine white tablecloth and pile the table high with unfamiliar dishes.
The table was laden with foods he'd never seen before. They looked expensive.
"I get it. I had no idea a world like this existed at your age either."
Edith casually pulled out her wallet and extracted a thick wad of bills.
The staff member accepted the bundle without a word and quietly withdrew.
Edith immediately grabbed a bowl of cream and chocolate, scooping it up greedily with a spoon.
It was a truly bizarre sight.
At first glance, her actions seemed out of place, yet somehow they suited her perfectly, feeling utterly natural.
Oliver followed suit and began eating.
Edith, mid-scoop of cream, glanced at Oliver and blurted out,
"This is fun."
"...Did I make some kind of mistake?"
"Mistake? No... quite the opposite. No mistakes at all. The knife and fork. Table manners—did someone teach you separately?"
"No. I just used to imitate how my master ate."
"Incredible. I shelled out big money for private lessons just to use these damn utensils, and here a street fixer who lives off human flesh and blood money does it effortlessly. I've always thought it, but God is one unfairly twisted bastard."
Unfair... Coming from a rich tycoon in this city, it was an awfully self-centered thing to say.
Any ordinary person would struggle to hide their displeasure, no matter how patient, but Oliver simply listened calmly.
Because he knew and accepted that he was a fixer living off human flesh and blood money.
So he felt no anger or agitation.
Instead, it was Edith who furrowed her brow.
He'd provoked him so blatantly, yet not even a twitch.
He dominated conversations and negotiations by provoking people and dragging their basest instincts to the surface.
Conversely, someone whose depths you couldn't see left you without a feel for how to handle them.
It felt like talking to a doll instead of a person.
So Edith tried a different approach.
"...So, what do you want to ask? If you're giving up 200 million Landa for it, it must be something important."
"Can I ask first?"
"Of course. Let's keep it casual. Feels just like a game. Truth or Dare. I used to play this a lot with girls back in the day. Gets the blood pumping."
"Then, if you don't mind, I'll ask without holding back. Could you tell me about Duncan?"
Oliver recalled the beautiful light he kept safely tucked in his pocket and asked.
He needed to gather any scrap of useful information.
"Duncan?"
"Yes."
"Huh... Why are you curious about him?"
Oliver racked his brain for a plausible reason.
"...I'm not entirely sure, but it seemed like Miss Jane trusted Duncan a lot. And Duncan seemed to like her too."
"Well, I told him to look after her, so they had time to get close."
"But for someone like that to try killing the young lady... I can't help but wonder why. It seemed like he wanted something."
Oliver already knew Duncan dreamed of setting up something like the Pinkman office to become a power player, but he played dumb in hopes of gleaning extra details.
Fortunately, it wasn't a bad gamble.
"Probably revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Yeah. Against those mage bastards. You know Duncan came from a mage family?"
"No. I just knew he had excess mana syndrome."
"Excess mana syndrome. Exactly what it sounds like—too much mana to cast spells, a kind of constitutional defect. Because of it, he got kicked out of his magic tower department and even his home."
"Duncan did?"
"Yeah. That world's cutthroat; they toss out anything they deem defective. Mages are mostly eugenics-obsessed lunatics anyway... Oh, hold on."
Edith tore into a massive turkey leg, dunked it in cream, and devoured it ravenously.
"Delicious... Anyway, Duncan was tough. Didn't despair there; he sought power another way for revenge. Started as a fixer, joined Pinkman, learned the ropes, and eventually went independent."
"Was there a specific reason for going independent?"
Oliver asked out of genuine curiosity. Wouldn't a Pinkman executive be a big shot?
But Edith shot it down flat.
"Of course. Fixer, Pinkman, Lunar Temple—it's all just underlings doing others' dirty work for peanuts. No different from slaves 3,000 years ago. If you want to be big enough to get revenge on mages, you need your own business."
"......"
Oliver fell silent. It didn't sound like Edith was just saying it to piss him off.
There was malice in his words, but also a sharp conviction.
Quite intriguing.
"...But then why was he working under you, Lady Edith?"
"He failed. I picked him up after watching... And that's the fun part. Succeed in business, escape slavery, become your own master. Fail, and you drop lower than a wage slave—untouchable scum. So most people choose to enslave themselves. Scared of the alternative. Keeps society running smoothly. Fun, right?"
"Yes, very intriguing... And surprising."
"What is?"
"Duncan. He seemed pretty capable."
"Killing people well and running a business are totally different. Pinkman sabotaged him too... Obviously. Why let some guy steal their know-how and go solo? That'd make them idiots."
Oliver couldn't agree, but he nodded anyway.
Whatever the case, it was intriguing.
Not as much as the beautiful light, demons, or black magic, but this underworld was fascinating too.
What to call it? The interactions of so many people creating all sorts of phenomena?
"My turn now. Why are you hunting for books on demons? Seemed like that's why you took this job. Curious about the reason."
"Can I ask why you're curious?"
"Stupid question. A black mage who soloed dozens of Pinkman grunts, two decent fixers, and even Duncan—naturally I'm curious why he's after demon books... What's the goal? Some pervert trying to end the world?"
Goal...
"I just want to meet one."
"...You want to meet a demon? Just like that?"
"Yes. Is that weird?"
"Hmm... Demons that try to wipe out the human realm, who turn villages, cities—even the world—to ruin every time they show up. You want to meet one of those, and that's not weird? Of course it's weird."
"......Sorry, were you being sarcastic?"
"Fuck yeah! What, you need confirmation?"
"Ah, thanks. I wasn't sure. But I'm serious."
"Why meet a demon? Got a wish to make?"
"A wish? Do I need one?"
"Usually. Make me rich. Make her love me. Cure my illness. Make me young again. Let me live longer... no, forever. Stuff like that. Otherwise, why risk meeting something that dangerous?"
Indeed... Joseph had offered his direct disciple Andrew to a demon for that, and later tried to kill Oliver too.
A sudden curiosity struck him.
"Have you ever, Lady Edith?"
"What?"
"You have demon books... Any wishes?"
"...No. Just ended up with it for business."
Edith lied. The necklace around her neck emitted some kind of magic.
It seemed to interfere with emotion-reading, but it was useless against Oliver.
He considered pressing her on it but let it slide. This was entertaining enough.
So he continued the conversation.
"...Business?"
"Guys like me collect weird shit for show or obsession. Best way to mingle is to share the hobby. That's all."
That much was true. And intriguing.
Collecting demon books out of collector's mania, not knowledge. Fascinating.
"Sure, some might be true obsessives, but that's not my business... So, you really just want to meet a demon for no reason?"
"...Not entirely no reason."
"Ha! Knew it. What?"
"I'll investigate first, but if I can't figure it out, I have one thing I want to ask later."
"Ask? About what?"
"The beautiful light."
Edith scowled.
"Beautiful what?"
"Beautiful light. Some people emit it. It's one reason I came out into the world."
Oliver was fairly honest.
"You're nuts... I knew black mages were crazy, but not like this."
"Weird?"
"Fucking... Yeah, tell me more. What exactly is this 'beautiful light'?"
At Edith's question, Oliver pulled a test tube from his pocket.
The one containing Duncan's beautiful light.
It looked ordinary, but Oliver sensed its subtle beauty.
Unfortunately, Edith apparently couldn't.
He examined the contents, lost interest quickly, and handed it back.
"No idea what's beautiful about it. Cut the nonsense and ask something realistic. What's your name? Real name."
"...Oliver. How did you know?"
"How many guys in this business use their real names? Still, you answered quicker than expected."
"I promised."
"Oh, you keep promises?"
Edith smirked, shrugging her shoulders mockingly. Oliver replied calmly.
"Not that grand. I kept it because it was worth keeping."
"Huh! Honest. Another question. You really only lived in a basement?"
"Half. Until a year ago, I was in the mines. Then my master took me in and taught me black magic."
"......I didn't hear wrong? You've only studied black magic for a year? No, subtract fixer work, and it's like half a year?"
Oliver affirmed with silence. It was actually shorter, but no need to elaborate.
Edith had lied once too. This was fine.
"Where'd you learn?"
"Wineham. Know it?"
"One of those backwater towns getting eaten up by Landa. Heard one of the locals is dumping big investments into the city lately... Wineham?"
"Yes."
"Next question. Why come here?"
"To say hello to my master."
"Doesn't add up. Your master's here?"
"Precisely, his corpse. In X District."
"...Tragic. Who killed him?"
"Me. He tried to kill me."
Edith looked shocked and fell silent for a moment.
"...I see. Your master tried to kill you, so you killed him. Must've hurt. Betrayal stings."
"Not really. He had his reasons. I understand. He'd understand me too."
"Does that work? ...Who suggested fixer work then? Fucking curious."
"Someone who helped me recommended it. Tried it, and it seemed okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Good pay for what I can do, and suits accessing the Black Market."
"Black Market? Ah... Yeah, best way to find that stuff."
"Yes... Ah!"
Oliver let out a small exclamation, as if realizing a mistake.
"Scared me... What?"
"I made a slip-up."
"Slip-up?"
"Had something to ask Nina. Forgot."
"Nina?"
"Nina of the Magic Rifle, the Pinkman fixer hired to protect the young lady."
"I know her. That bitch who hooked up with Duncan."
"Oh... You know. Thought you wouldn't care."
Edith was momentarily speechless, like she'd been hit in a vital spot unexpectedly.
"...Talking nonsense. I checked up on Duncan from behind, so of course."
"Ah... I see."
"Yeah."
Edith lied again, but Oliver let it pass. More fun this way.
"...Anyway, what'd you want to ask?"
"Nothing major. Wanted to know where she got her Filterette. Missed the timing and killed her."
Sounded creepy at first, but Edith laughed and asked,
"Why Filterette? You don't seem like a junkie."
"Something I want to look into."
"Look into, huh. Curious, but saving it for later fun... Sudden, but here's a proposal."
"Proposal?"
"Yeah. How about working under me?"
"Thanks to you killing Duncan, I've got an opening. Fits, right? The killer takes his spot. Name your terms."
Caught off guard, Oliver was mildly surprised. That was it.
"Well... Appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking to get hired anywhere or work under anyone."
"Oh, not good enough for you?"
"No, not that. I just don't plan to affiliate with anyone."
Edith fixed him with a sharp glare, eyes brimming with piercing intensity.
No special power, but they still carried an aura that saw through people.
"...Why? Pay aside, under me you'd easily access the Black Market you're after."
True enough. He'd become a fixer partly to network with big shots for Black Market access.
But not as an employee.
"...Fair point, but still no. Being tied down means spending time on their stuff, doing things I hate. Don't like that."
"Hoo... Interesting. Prefer being master over slave?"
"Pardon? No, not that grand—"
"—Ah, enough. Don't play humble. I hate that shit. Feels fake as hell."
Edith cut him off bluntly. Her tone and emotions were utterly serious, leaving no room to argue.
The tension thickened. Edith slouched again and said,
"...Anyway. If that's your stance, I won't push. I hate begging too."
"Thanks for understanding."
"Just be careful."
"Pardon?"
"This city's as dangerous as it's rich. Sounds like you're a rare case who can even extract mana—watch out. Research nuts love types like you."
"Research nuts? Specifically who?"
"Figure it out. Losers without imagination die first. You especially need it. Lone wolves not tied to groups become targets, power be damned."
Edith was sincere. Genuine advice.
"Thanks for the advice. You're kind."
"Ha ha ha... Kind? Me?"
"Yes. You respected my view, gave advice... Treated me to food. Kind."
"......You're either retarded or insane."
"Am I? ...By the way, can I ask something now?"
"Oh, right. Go ahead. What? Curious about what?"
"What do you think of Miss Jane?"
Oliver asked abruptly.
A question totally off the conversation's flow.
Edith looked displeased.
"Obviously, that fucking illegitimate child of—"
"Lady Edith. You can't lie. You promised to answer honestly."
Oliver interrupted Edith for the first time.
Edith flinched as if stabbed, her expression hardening fast.
"...Why ask that?"
"Hmm... Just curious."
"Fuck. Curious about everything."
"Ah, if you don't want to answer, don't."
"Haha... Mocking me now?"
"Sorry. Don't misunderstand. If you don't want to right now, skip it. These answers are best voluntary."
Edith was annoyed but also pleased.
She reacted sensitively to Jane.
"...Fuck. Feels like I owe you now. Like I lost."
"Not at all. It's fine."
"Not for me. Been a while; feels shitty... Fine, I'll compensate another way."
"Another way?"
"Yeah. I know a few Black Markets, including drug spots. I'll tell you. vouch for you too. So let's end this shitty game."
"Ah... Thank you."