Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: Return (2)
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“Haaaaah...”
Forrest sat down in his chair the moment he responded.
Not just sitting—he slumped into it as if every ounce of energy had drained from his body.
For someone like Forrest, who always paid meticulous attention to his attire and posture, it was a rare sight.
For some reason, Oliver couldn't shake the feeling that he bore some responsibility for this.
The reaction from Al when they first visited the restaurant, and the resentment Forrest directed at Oliver, served as proof.
Glug-glug-glug—
Forrest poured himself a drink to steady his emotions. Not the usual modest amount, but filled to the brim, nearly spilling over.
Then he threw it back in one go, without even savoring it.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
Thud. He set the crystal glass down on the desk and opened his mouth.
“......Long time no see.”
It was a short phrase, pregnant with countless implications.
Oliver replied.
“Yes, it's been a while. Mr. Forrest.”
“Actually, it hasn't been that long. Less than a week. Have you been well?”
“Eh, managing somehow.”
“Good for you. But as I mentioned earlier, I haven't been faring well..... If it's not too much trouble, mind asking why?”
Thrown by Forrest's uncharacteristic tone, Oliver played along.
“What happened?”
“A few days ago, a piece of news hit the brokers' shared information network. The kind that made everyone's ears perk up in disbelief.”
“What was it?”
“They say a magic research institute in F District was raided. Source is murky, no way to verify the location..... Needless to say, it's got the underground buzzing.”
“Hmm..... Is that really worth all the fuss?”
“Of course. I've told you before—this city hangs by a thread of delicate power balance. The Magic Tower mages form the central pillar. A raid on one of their research labs under the tower? That could be the opening act to something massive. No wonder it's chaos.”
Ah..... Oliver realized anew just how much trouble he'd stirred up. Even so, he hadn't expected this level of fallout from a single visit.
“.....Any leads on who did it?”
“No. We don't even know who got hit—fat chance identifying the attackers. Some are calling it a hoax rumor.”
“Then maybe it is?”
“No, it's not.”
Forrest replied firmly as he poured another drink. His thirst quenched, he stuck to his usual measured pour this time.
He took a sip and continued.
“The Brokers' Guild may be on the weaker side in Randa, but we're not incompetent at gathering intel. If anything, our weakness makes us nimble. We deal with outfits like Heimdall, and every broker has their own network.”
“Ah, I see.”
“So now, it's not just us brokers—the locals and busybodies are all abuzz too. Debating if some lunatic hit a magic lab out of nowhere, or if it's Magic Tower faction infighting.”
“Do the towers fight among themselves?”
“Put five people under one roof, and there's never peace. Magic Tower's no exception..... Whichever it is, if true, it could blow up big. That's why everyone's burning the midnight oil digging for answers.”
“Is that why you're so worn out, Mr. Forrest?”
“Close, but not quite. I was looking for you.”
Oliver's heart skipped at the offhand remark. It sounded casual, but it laid everything bare.
“Remember our last meeting?”
“......Yes.”
“You asked about Matel. And about sponsorship too.”
“Yes..... I remember. You told me to forget it. Not to buck the trend.”
“And one more thing. I asked you to promise not to get involved. You refused..... So, what have you been up to these past few days? If you're going to lie, say nothing. It'd just make me sad.”
"......."
“Dave.”
“.....I went to Matel.”
***
Oliver answered after much deliberation.
He could have played dumb or lied, but he knew it wouldn't fly with Forrest.
More than that, being upfront now felt like the bare minimum courtesy.
Forrest closed his eyes silently upon hearing it.
His face flickered with conflicting emotions—surprise and the lack thereof.
Human feelings were truly mysterious.
He drank in silence, poured another glass, and spoke.
“I won't pry for details. We're just fixer and broker, tied by business. But let's make one thing clear.”
“Go ahead.”
“I'm your official broker. Whenever you pull something in this city, tell me first. You don't need my permission or have to follow my lead, but at least give me a heads-up. That way, I can brace accordingly..... I've got employees counting on me.”
Forrest's words carried reason, a touch of anger, restraint, and relief.
He had a point.
They were in a formal contract, after all.
Sure, it was business-only, but Oliver's antics could drag Forrest into trouble through no fault of his own.
Nothing guaranteed otherwise.
Like nearly stiffing him on Merlin's payout, or this mess. Oliver realized he'd been too reckless.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Forrest..... It won't happen again.”
“That's fine. Just one more thing. Did the Matel business wrap up cleanly? No loose ends?”
Thinking of Merlin, Oliver replied.
“I think so..... If anything crops up, you'll hear from me right away. I promise.”
“Hmmm..... Good. Have a seat.”
Only then did Forrest seem to unwind, gesturing for Oliver to sit.
Judging by his demeanor and emotions, the matter was settled.
As Oliver sat at his invitation, Forrest rubbed the bridge of his nose and did a quick face wipe.
He looked beat. Even so, he buttoned up, smoothed his clothes, reverting to his usual self.
“You look exhausted.”
“Can't say otherwise.”
“Let me apologize once more.”
“No need—it's not all on you.”
“Pardon?”
“Other stuff too. Ties into your next job.”
“Next job?”
“Yeah. You read the papers?”
Oliver nodded. He'd been buying and reading them regularly since taking on Edith's assignment.
“Then you know about the Kell Liberation Army?”
Oliver paused. Vaguely familiar.
“......Yeah, kingdom forces crushed them recently. That's all I know.”
He was honest. It was outside Randa, low priority.
“Good you heard. Kell Liberation Army—in short, Northland separatists.”
“Northland?”
“Yep. We call 'em Northmen; they call themselves Kell. Hence the name.”
“Ah..... Got it.”
“Right. Annexed by the kingdom a century ago, still kicking. Gotta respect the tenacity.”
Forrest gave a wry admiration.
“But why bring it up?”
“You said it earlier—the kingdom army subjugated the Kell Liberation Army.”
“Yes.”
“Not entirely. Like any war, some slipped away.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but not a huge deal. Most grunts hit reality's wall, despair, head home or slink into cities to scrape by. The cadres are the issue—like seeds ready to sprout. Kingdom forces hunt them relentlessly.”
“I see.”
“And some of those factions seem to have washed up here in Randa.”
“Randa?”
“Yeah, not surprising. Tons of fugitives flock here from home and abroad. World's biggest city—easy to blend in crowds, snag info. Best part? Autonomous free city. Kingdom troops can't just barge in.”
“Ah, got it.”
“Sure, city hall and kingdom council bicker yearly over it. Both sides have their angles. Kingdom wants rebels rooted out; city guards its precious autonomy.”
“Tough for both.”
Oliver said it flatly. Unfamiliar topic, zero interest—no understanding or sympathy.
Forrest looked otherwise.
“Here's where it gets tricky. How do two sides with clashing views compromise without clashing? Any ideas?”
Oliver was about to say no but paused, pondering.
He now wanted to take the world seriously.
No interest yet, but worth learning these dynamics.
So he thought.
“Hold on. Mind if I mull it over?”
“Take your time.”
Oliver pondered.
Kingdom wants pursuit; city wants independence. Satisfy both?
He answered.
“.....The city nabs the kingdom's targets for them?”
“Spot on.”
Forrest nodded.
“Of course, city has quotas—can't always oblige. But big cases like this? Gotta show goodwill, hand over the heavy hitters.”
"......So fixers snag those heavy hitters?”
“Exactly. You're full of surprises today.”
With that, Forrest slid over a file folder.
Inside were bundled sheets with black-and-white photos and concise profiles.
Oliver flipped through.
“120 million, 80, 95, 250 million..... Big bounties.”
“Fair from kingdom's view—rebel brass. Some mages, black mages. Guys who solo entire companies. Considering that, not excessive.”
“Ah..... Makes sense.”
Oliver nodded, convinced. Money's one thing; life's singular.
“.....Handed to fixers 'cause it's risky?”
“Partly. Other reasons too. Those fugitives hole up in X, Y, Z Districts. Even cops struggle to enter. Might be worse as cops.”
Didn't click. Cops can't enter easier?
X onward: beyond city control, even Crime Firm's grip slips. Lawless zone?
'But why?'
“What're you thinking?”
Forrest eyed him.
“Nothing.”
“Anyway, city requests mean everyone's obligated to bag those in the file. You're included.”
Oliver nodded.
Seemed unfair at a glance, but like pollution cleanup duty—not weird.
Brokers get perks from such teamwork.
Another question nagged.
“Why me specifically?”
Forrest answered steadily, clearly prepped.
“Official line: Avoid greenhorns botching it. Want reliable pros.”
Made sense.
Better few aces than amateurs tipping off bounties.
City sleeps easier.
But...
“.....What's the unofficial reason?”
“City officials are prepping some project.”