Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: The Bigger Deal (3)
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Oliver took a taxi to X District, just like always.
This marked his sixth visit.
There were still watchful eyes on him, but he was starting to get used to the area.
Maybe I should swing by Master's place after handling this urgent business. It had been far too long since his last visit.
Oliver left the taxi behind as it turned and headed off, then made a beeline for the gym where he was supposed to meet Joseph.
A short walk later, he arrived at the gym, tucked away deeper inside. A man standing out front turned toward Oliver and greeted him.
"You're here."
It was Joseph.
"Yeah... Were you waiting for me?"
"We had plans for today. Anyway, can I have that first?"
"Oh, sure, one sec."
Oliver pulled a bulging glutton pouch from his pocket.
It was the wallet-style one that had swallowed half the bounty.
"This has 324 million Landa—half of the 648 million after fees. Feel free to check."
Joseph took the pouch, squeezed it a few times, then shook his head.
"I'll count it later."
"Of course, whatever works for you. And here, take these."
Oliver produced three vials of red potion from his pocket.
"What's this?"
"Potions. Since you're joining Arthur on the big job, I figured I'd hook you up. Oh, did you already get some?"
Joseph shook his head.
He'd tapped into the shallow connections he'd built while working for the Black Market, scouring the gray market, black market, and distributors, but good stuff was hard to come by.
The best items always went to the powerful and wealthy first.
In that sense, Joseph's gratitude for these potions was genuine.
"Thanks... What about payment?"
"Eh... Since the city covered it anyway, no need."
It was a rare attitude, even for X District standards, but Joseph nodded.
He might not buy it from anyone else, but from Oliver? It made sense. Hell, anything from Oliver made sense. The guy just had that special something.
An otherworldly, overwhelming aura no ordinary person could match...
"Anyway, shall we head in? Time's short."
Joseph nodded and led Oliver inside the gym.
Just like last time, it was a vast space filled with shirtless people sweating through their workouts.
Some pounded sandbags with thud! thud! impacts, while others lifted and dropped heavy weights with loud screech screech creaks.
Everyone was grinding hard.
"Ah, there you are."
A squat, bald man emerged from the crowd of musclebound giants.
He barely came up to their waists, but his arms, chest, and legs were ridiculously developed, giving him a gravel-hard presence.
And he knew it—standing tall amid crowds twice his size, exuding pure confidence.
It was Dinkleji, the gym owner Oliver had met last time with Joseph.
"Good to see you, Gym Master."
"Yeah. Our Joseph only shows up when he needs something. And you... Dave, right?"
"Yes, been a while. Dinkleji."
"Drop the formality—just call me Gym Master. Heard you wanna sign up here."
"Yeah, can't start right now with work, but I'd love to train when I get the time."
"No idea what you're thinking, but it's reckless. We don't do light workouts here—we forge real men. If your resolve's shaky, find another gym now. Better for both of us."
"Ah, got it. I'll do that."
"But if you're that set on learning here, I'll teach you right. Come back when you're serious."
Oliver tilted his head at the mismatched exchange.
Joseph chimed in.
"He talks tough, but we always welcome new members—don't sweat it. More importantly, Gym Master, can we borrow the basement?"
"Fine, but two hours max. And don't forget our deal. Bald head or not, my memory's sharp."
Joseph nodded and led Oliver down to the underground training room.
As before, it reeked of sweat, packed with a massive ring, sandbags, mitts, and gloves.
The only difference: the floor stains looked a bit darker with old blood.
Oliver stripped off his shirt and asked,
"What deal?"
"Oh? Nothing big. He wants me in some gambling fight matches. One of the few big-money gigs in X District—in exchange, I get gym access. Signed up for a few bouts."
"Ah, I see. You mentioned you used to fight back in the day."
"Not anymore... but looks like I'm back in."
There was a hint of bitterness in Joseph's voice. Oliver wanted to pry, but Joseph spoke first.
"Anyway, ready for the lesson? No time to waste."
Oliver nodded and handed Joseph a vial of emotion.
Unlike last time, Joseph extracted it smoothly—maybe he had real talent.
"Try holding it steady in your hand."
Joseph followed without a word.
Even after a full minute, the emotion stayed stable in his grip.
"Now, pull it as thin as you can."
Joseph reshaped it immediately. Not thread-thin, but about as thick as a finger joint.
"Ngh...!"
It was still tough—he grimaced, focusing hard.
Oliver watched, then touched Joseph's hand with his finger.
Guiding indirectly, the emotion thinned from finger-width to a quarter of that.
It should have been even finer, but Oliver took it slow, step by step. Learning solidly came first. Joseph, though, had other ideas.
"Hey, Dave."
"Yeah, Joseph?"
"Can't we make a Black Suit like this? Not trying to cut corners—just wanna make something usable by next time."
He wasn't lying. Still, Oliver shook his head.
"Too thick for that."
"Yeah?"
"It won't stretch enough to cover your whole body, and the gaps weaken defense a lot."
"What if it's not full-body defense... but offense?"
"...Pardon?"
"Like weaving this thickness of emotion and Life Force not into cloth, but armor—for just one arm, say?"
Oliver pondered it.
Not full-body, just one arm. Not tight defense, but for attack—a Black Suit variant.
It strayed from his original concept, but it didn't seem impossible.
"Hold on."
Oliver pulled out two vials: emotion and Life Force.
He extracted both at once, shaped them to match Joseph's thickness, and wrapped them around his right hand, arm, and shoulder.
It felt like rebar armor. Not elegant, but offensively... potent.
Thicker meant more emotion and Life Force—more power.
"Impressive. Never thought of it that way. Looks viable."
"Really?"
"Yeah, seriously. Might be quicker to weaponize than the full Suit. Name... Black Armor?"
Joseph's naming sense was iffy—his face soured, but he didn't argue.
"Can you teach me that version?"
With a nearer goal in sight, Oliver rolled up his sleeves and nodded.
Black Suit needed thread-thin control, but Black Armor skipped straight to assembly.
"I'll teach you fast as I can. Got my own stuff to do."
"Huh? Like what?"
"Nothing much. Just developing a technique."
Oliver headed straight home after and dove into his work.
Just one day, but he'd methodically taught Joseph how to wrap Black Armor on arms and legs.
Even sketched the weaving pattern for rebar-thick emotion and Life Force.
Assembly was tricky for Joseph, but with one-on-one drills, he reached solo capability—albeit 2-3 hours long at best, over an hour at worst.
The gym closed with Oliver still helping; then he went home.
The unexpected idea freed up time sooner than expected.
His research? Magic—fusing spatial magic with Merlin's techniques.
"Hmm..."
In the empty basement of his lodging, Oliver groaned softly, extracting mana and casting on both hands.
The colorless mana gathered, forming structure and order.
It gradually tinged purple. Soon, it condensed in his palms.
Pop!
The purple mana compressed like a stamped point in midair, bursting into a tiny portal. Its pair opened on his other hand.
"Hoo..."
Oliver exhaled in relief.
Since realizing he could extract mana, he'd practiced spatial magic.
Not for combat, but unmatched convenience and utility.
True to its reputation as brutally hard to learn, he couldn't manage alone.
Prep worked, but portals collapsed on activation.
He needed formal training—but wouldn't quit. So, he devised his own fix: dual portals, created simultaneously and linked.
Astonishingly, it worked.
Location-limited, fist-sized, but functional.
Oliver saw huge potential.
Useless alone, but combined with others? Viable.
He moved to the next phase.
Eyes closed, he dispelled the portals to mana, then reformed them.
Minimal waste.
Repeating, he felt the mana's inherent flow and shape through his fingertips.
Portal, to mana, portal, to mana...
His sense and talent pieced the structure in his mind, crystalizing it.
A different thrill from past spell successes.
Crackle... fizz crackle...!
Clenching his fist shattered the portals to mana dust.
He cupped his hands, merged the mana, and poured it into a prepared ink bottle.
The condensed mana liquefied like HLF, soaking in.
Merlin's method was incomparable, but Oliver forged his own: fully blending mana and ink, then drawing the spatial array he'd grasped.
'One large circle, two small ones. Unique net patterns inside. Symmetrical root-like connectors.'
Machine-precise on paper. Dried, he overlaid another sheet, tracing identically.
Scritch—scritch—scratch—sssh scratch—
Two identical arrays done. Placed at basement ends, he scattered mana to activate.
It touched paper, igniting mana-infused ink—portals bloomed.
Doghole-sized, 2-3 seconds... but enough.
A massive breakthrough.
Building on it, Oliver turned Duncan into a corpse doll, infused black magic, and fused his spatial variant.
As he secured this new attack method, a call came from Forest.
"Word from Arthur's side. They've pinned down Willis's location."