Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Chef (1)
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"Bro... What the hell is this?"
Owen had no idea how to answer his little brother's question.
He didn't understand what was going on either.
Something about the Chef, the head of Fighter Crew, actually being a member of Black Hand. And that he'd stolen an item from Crime Firm's auction.
Bombshell after bombshell kept dropping out of nowhere.
But the most absurd part was how this had painted them as targets for Crime Firm too—and the Chef's demand that they help him if they wanted to live.
'You're screwed the moment you're tangled up with me anyway. Help or not, Crime Firm's gonna lump you in and come after you. So since it's come to this, help me out. Do that, and I'll bring you all into Black Hand. I'll share the great forbidden knowledge and grant you powers beyond your wildest dreams.'
It was all way too much for Owen, who was only nineteen.
No, it was just stuff he didn't care about.
All Owen cared about was scraping together enough money following the neighborhood guys like Jo and Sam to feed his siblings. That was it.
And now... they had to go to war with Crime Firm?
It was so ridiculous and unrealistic that he didn't even know how to react. And more than anything...
"...Your boss is taking his sweet time, huh?"
A member of Fighter Crew sent by the Chef sneered.
They were from one of the many Fighter Crew factions that especially hated their group.
The Chef had assigned them under the pretense of protection, but even dull-witted Owen knew that wasn't true.
He didn't know the exact reason, but these guys had been planted here to keep tabs on them.
To control Jo and Sam, specifically.
The kids seemed to sense it instinctively too, huddling together with anxious looks on their faces.
Where had Jo, Sam, and the others gone? If the worst happened, what should he do?
That was when Owen was lost in those worries.
"H-Hey... Isn't that Jo coming?"
"Where? Oh... Did he take care of it?"
"Faster than I thought. Face looks fine too... Maybe the rumors were overblown?"
"Yeah. But... who's that guy... Huh?"
Owen looked ahead.
Jo was leading what had to be dozens of Fighter Crew members. Then he charged straight at the two supervisors chatting obnoxiously and sent them flying in one go.
They weren't ordinary fighters either, being executives themselves. But they were no match for Jo, whose black magic skills had improved dramatically lately. They both went down in a single hit.
Bam-!
Crack!!
One slammed into a wall, the other cratered the floor.
The sudden scene startled everyone around into moving, but one look at Jo's eyes froze them in place. No—they cowered in fear.
"Jo?"
"I'm cutting ties with the Chef. What about you, Owen?"
By the time Oliver approached, Jo was in the middle of sorting things out.
He'd taken down what looked like the two leaders the moment he arrived, subdued their underlings with just a glare, and bellowed out his declaration.
"I'm done with the boss starting now. Anyone who wants to stay loyal, come at me. Anyone who wants to live, get lost. I won't chase down deserters."
The straightforward choice left the hesitant crowd murmuring. One by one, they started fleeing.
Oliver had noticed it before, but Jo really had a knack for leadership.
Like Joseph, Kant, Forrest, Murphy, Arthur, Jonathan.
"They're backing off easier than expected."
"Honestly, the Chef shoved this on us out of nowhere, so most of them are still dazed. Aside from a few diehards, they're just going along reluctantly. He promised to get them into Black Hand if they played nice, but who buys that?"
As if to prove his point, everyone who'd been guarding the place had vanished before they knew it.
Jo didn't seem to care.
"Hey, Sam."
"Yeah?"
"Stay here and guard our people. If I'm not back in an hour, grab the kids and bolt anywhere. Owen, what're you gonna do?"
"Uh... M-Me? I'll go wherever you go, Jo. But... what's even happening right now?"
Jo shifted his gaze from Owen to Oliver before answering.
"Tried to kill Dave, but Dave offered to help us instead. You stay here with Sam, just in case. Got it?"
"Ah... Y-Yeah!"
Owen nodded, still confused but grasping the gist.
The moment he answered, Jo grabbed the kids and the rest of their community members and headed off somewhere.
No wasted movements—perfectly natural.
'What, do they drill for this or something? Makes sense—there's basically no real cops around here.'
"Thanks."
Jo approached Oliver once the cleanup was mostly done.
Compared to when they'd first met today, he gave off a much calmer vibe. And that thanks felt genuine, not just polite.
Oliver responded courteously.
"No problem. It was my job anyway."
"Not that. Thanks for coming straight here. Helped me rescue the kids fast. Really appreciate it."
That was true. By the book, he should've reported to Forrest first, consulted his employer Jonathan. But Oliver hadn't.
Dragging it out like that could've gotten Jo's people hurt by the Chef.
So he'd come straight here without telling anyone.
It had all worked out fine.
Sure, as a fixer, it wasn't exactly praiseworthy. But Oliver figured it couldn't be helped and let it go. He'd promised to help, after all.
'Eh, it'll work out somehow.'
With Owen, Sam, and the local young men handling defense, Jo said,
"Alright, shall we head out?"
A hint of fear in his eyes as he asked. Oliver nodded.
"Yeah, that's why I came."
"Worst case, we might have to fight over two hundred guys. Nothing compared to you, but that's a lot of numbers."
"Hm... Could you escort me up to the Chef?"
"Yeah, I can do that much."
"That'll do."
After their exchange, Jo led the rest of his group to guide Oliver.
The Chef had apparently called in Fighter Crew members from X District and was preparing for Crime Firm's attack.
"Bought up private-made weapons from Y District and turned a whole building into a fortress."
"...Didn't they set up base in Y District originally?"
"Things soured big-time with the Y District gangs they allied with, so they crossed over here. Someone blew up a massive bomb there and inflicted huge damage..."
"Who did that?"
Jo narrowed his eyes at Oliver.
"...Anyway, Crime Firm's one thing, but we might end up fighting Y District gangs too. We're up against the Sam River, but can't relax. Never thought it'd get this messy."
Jo sighed. Oliver agreed.
It was all too sudden.
The rumor that the Chef stole the auction item didn't sit right, and his response was overly hasty and flashy.
He could've denied it and stalled, but instead, he exposed his identity and geared up for war right away.
Almost like he was provoking a fight.
"There."
Jo pointed to a building as he walked beside Oliver.
A massive multi-family apartment at a big intersection, big enough for over a hundred people.
Barricades surrounded the giant structure, with boards or machine guns at the windows.
Crowds of people were visible too, all visibly on edge.
"Yo, Jo. Done with the job already?"
A guy building barricades nearby called out to him.
Jo fired back with a question instead.
"Where's the boss?"
"Boss? Over there... But where's Victor?"
"Dead."
Jo gave the curt reply and headed inside with Oliver.
The man who'd answered looked shocked and asked again, but Jo ignored him and strode forward.
He passed throngs murmuring as they prepped defenses, hauling weapons, ammo, and emotion-filled vials.
They all sensed something at Jo's arrival, stopping to stare silently.
"Boss..."
Jo halted in front of one man and spoke.
The guy was tall, broad-shouldered, solidly built, with thick hair and a short beard—an impressive specimen overall.
And he exuded the confidence to match, naturally dominating those around him.
That radiating self-assurance infecting everyone was proof enough.
"Oh... Jo. You're here."
"Yeah."
"Job go smooth?"
"Got complicated."
"Complicated...? Speaking of, where's Victor?"
"Dead."
"How?"
"Head smashed by a fist."
"Who threw it?"
"Me."
Jo's words sent murmurs rippling through the nearby Fighter Crew members in shock.
From their reactions, Jo clearly wielded serious influence here, one way or another.
"You killed him? Why?"
"Our goals didn't align."
"Goals don't align? What the hell does that mean?"
"There's a path where we all live, but he's pushing us down the road to death for his own greed. So I took him out."
The Chef drew a small but sturdy steak knife from the array at his waist upon hearing Jo's answer.
"You're talking in riddles, not like you. Spell it out plain."
Tension thickened. The man called the Chef was ready to kill Jo if needed.
As everyone swallowed hard, an incongruous voice cut in.
"Uh, mind if I explain that part?"
All eyes snapped to the source.
It was Oliver. He raised a hand from amid the crowd and stepped forward slowly.
"Excuse me. Ah, thanks."
He wove through the people, quarterstaff tapping the ground rhythmically as he advanced.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The abrupt turn of events prompted the Chef to speak.
"Damn... Am I seeing a ghost?"
"As far as I know, I'm still alive, so probably not."
"Quirky way of talking."
"Is it? Anyway, nice to meet you, Chef. I'm Dave, fixer from T District. You saw me in Y District last time, right?"
"Ho..."
The Chef raised one eyebrow at Oliver's words.
He'd suspected as much, and it was spot on.
The Chef eyed him with intrigue and wariness.
The gathering Fighter Crew members, meanwhile, looked baffled, not grasping the situation.
In the awkward, eerie silence, Oliver spoke first.
"It's... a long story, but I heard you sent Jo to kill me, so I came."
"You nuts?"
"Pardon? ...No, though I got asked that earlier too. I'm quite sane."
"Then what balls do you have showing up here alone? No backup in sight."
The Chef scanned the surroundings through his black mage sight as he asked.
A damn good question.
Logically, Oliver coming here made no sense. Right into the den of the man who'd tried to kill him. Utter madness.
Yet Oliver replied calmly.
"Like I said, it's complicated, but Jo asked for help."
"........."
"........."
"........."
"........."
Silence fell over everyone. Incredulous. Unbelieving.
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Why come just 'cause Jo asked? You help anyone who asks?"
"Not anyone—just when I can. ...Plus, personally, I'd rather X District and Crime Firm not fight. I even bought a few months' membership at the gym here."
The Chef burst out laughing at that.
Utterly ridiculous. He laughed for a good while before speaking.
"Jo... I'm disappointed. You bare your teeth at me trusting a lunatic like this? If you'd fought me straight-up risking your life, at least I'd have looked after your family."
"Sorry, but the guy holding my family hostage doesn't inspire much trust. And believing a guy who eats human flesh? That's absurd to begin with."
Human flesh. The words set the surrounding Fighter Crew murmuring.
They apparently didn't know the full story about the cannibal chef. Made sense—Oliver had only learned the details recently himself.
"Hoo... Got some skills, huh? Figured that much out?"
"Heard it from Dave."
The Chef's tacit admission ramped up the murmurs.
Even in this lawless city fringe, people had some底线.
But the Chef doubled down shamelessly.
"What? Why the shock? You must've guessed from the 'cannibal chef' name. Think you'd get life-changing power for nothing? Huh?!"
He bellowed, eyes bulging. His influence was so strong they all flinched.
Everyone but Oliver. He raised his other hand and said,
"Everyone's got their lines, so no need to get upset."
The Chef glared daggers at Oliver for directly contradicting him.
"Bullshit. Guys who kill and eat people drawing lines? What's the difference?"
"Dunno. Keeping a bare minimum of conscience? I don't think that's so bad. Feels... human, you know?"