Chapter 201
Chapter 201
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 201
Chapter Title: Chef (2)
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It was truly a bizarre sight.
Not content with barging into the enemy's den alone, he was now defending them.
An utterly unrealistic scene.
Perhaps because of that, the Fighter Crew members gathered around were listening to Oliver's words as if entranced.
"Even if we're in this line of work, I personally don't think it's bad to hold to certain lines. Like not fighting those who don't want to fight... or not harming those who have nothing to do with it... At least that shows some dignity, doesn't it?"
"Dignity? People would laugh and call it bullshit."
"That could be... But that's exactly why I think it has value. Holding to your lines even if others mock or condemn you... You're not doing it for their praise in the first place, right? You're doing it to be at peace with yourself... Isn't that so?"
Oliver asked with genuine sincerity.
It might have seemed like idle chatter, nothing more, but surprisingly, the Fighter Crew members crowding around began murmuring in confusion at his words.
Their desires, fervor, chaos, and fear subsided enough for them to reconsider their current situation and choices.
The Chef noticed this too and let out an awkward laugh.
"I thought you were just crazy, but you're not just any crazy bastard. You're a crazy bastard with a silver tongue. Hell, even I'm tempted."
"Ah, if I've caused any misunderstanding, I'm sorry. I'm not claiming anything's right or wrong. I was just sharing my thoughts. I'm not criticizing you, Chef, or defending the people here..."
Oliver paused for a moment.
"I just... think it's wrong to drag people into this who don't want to be involved."
"Oh, so you came here alone to take me down and save the poor souls?"
The Chef asked, his displeasure shining through. Whether he felt mocked or not, his emotions were tinged with anger.
He clearly didn't like being seen as a joke.
"No, I didn't think that far. I just came to ask you not to force the Fighter Crew into this."
Hearing the response, the Chef burst into loud laughter. "Kuhuhuhu!"
It sounded jovial on the surface, but beneath it simmered immense rage and disgust.
"So, should I just let the ones who want out go and leave by myself?"
"Oh, I'd be grateful if you did."
"Kuhahaha! You're a real madman. A real madman! In all my years, no one's ever tried to steal what I've created."
"?? I think there's a misunderstanding. I'm not trying to take anything from you, Chef. I just—"
"—It's the same thing. Everyone here is mine. You know that as a black mage."
Ah... Oliver suddenly recalled the tenets of black magic. A master who imparts teachings becomes the owner beyond mere master.
That was why Oliver still called Joseph "Master."
But the Fighter Crew members, hearing this for the first time, looked shocked.
Jo's angry shout confirmed it.
"You all hear that? He thinks we're his property. And yet Crime Firm risks their lives fighting for him? For one man's personal grudge that has nothing to do with us? If it turns into a full war with Crime Firm, not just us, but everyone here will be in deep shit!"
"Ah... I hear voices of injustice. They happily learned black magic from me when I taught it, but now that I need help, they want to abandon me."
"Watch your words. Yes, we received your help, but we paid the appropriate price. You're the one who dragged us into this mess."
Jo's firm declaration snapped the wavering crowd back to their senses.
Jo shouted again.
"We live for ourselves! Not as dogs who die because someone orders it! What about you all!?"
Jo asked the other Fighter Crew members.
Those harboring doubts in the situation silently agreed.
The Chef looked annoyed, as if staring at a disobedient dog, but then exercised patience and continued the conversation.
"Fine, let's say you're right. But even if I back out, do you think Crime Firm, with their pride wounded, will leave you alone? You all know they're eyeing X District. Even if I pull out now, you won't get off scot-free. Better to stick with me—"
"—Um, I think I can handle that."
Oliver raised his hand and interjected again.
Displeasure crossed the Chef's face.
"You really have no sense of timing."
"You seemed like you needed help. Anyway, I know a few people in Crime Firm. I'll explain it's all a misunderstanding and pin it on you alone, Chef."
"You think a mere acquaintance can clean up this mess?"
"Worth a shot, right?"
The Chef sneered dismissively and asked the crowd.
"I'm asking you all. Do you really want to entrust your fates to this guy?"
"I trust him."
Jo answered, with utter sincerity.
"I trust him. So trust him a little. I'll vouch for him... He's insanely strong, yet treats us like people."
As Fighter Crew members began nodding in agreement, the Chef spoke.
"To anyone who takes down this fixer wannabe and Jo right in front of me: 1 billion Landa in cash and a guaranteed spot as my formal disciple in the Black Hand."
Everyone froze at the sudden offer.
Cold hard cash and status were irresistible temptations.
The Chef scanned the crowd and yelled.
"You think it'll be some happy ending if I disappear? I created Fighter Crew. If I go, it vanishes, and so does your chance to learn black magic. Is that what you want?"
"Might be overstepping, but I see it differently."
Oliver said as he passed the Chef. Too excited, no one noticed his movement until he spoke.
"I heard from Jo how Fighter Crew started... Mind if I borrow this spot for a sec? Thanks."
Oliver excused himself to the crowd and walked toward the half-built apartment being converted into a fortress.
"I heard you appeared out of nowhere, taught black magic for free, crushed the interferers, and founded Fighter Crew."
"So?"
"Exactly. Fighter Crew exists thanks to you, Chef... But isn't it too much to say it'll vanish just because you're gone?"
The Chef's brow twitched.
His words directly denied the Chef's claims and efforts.
"Ah, sorry if that upset you. But saying Fighter Crew would crumble so easily feels like underestimating all you two hundred-plus people here."
Oliver spread his arms, gesturing to the Fighter Crew members.
"Feels like you're the one underestimating me. Is this provocation?"
"Sorry if it came across that way. From my experience, organizations don't collapse without one person."
Oliver thought of Marie and the Chosen she led.
Though he left knowledge behind, maintaining and growing the group was the survivors' achievement.
The form might not have been ideal, but it was undeniably impressive.
Yet the Chef disagreed.
"Experience? What experience? Some punk who's barely lived twenty-odd years spouting nonsense! You think I've built groups like Fighter Crew once or twice?! What are you lot doing, letting this nobody stand? Or do you really want to rely on him instead of me?! Choose!!"
At the enraged Chef's roar, a few weak-willed Fighter Crew members hesitated and approached Oliver.
As Jo moved to stop them, Oliver signaled it was fine and cast black magic.
Bless
Original black magic once used by Marie
With the incantation, he placed his hand on the building. A black light like mist blended with glow swiftly swept through the entire structure.
He seized control of the whole building. Bricks, cement, rebar—all components separated one by one, floating in the black misty air.
Crack... Crackle...... Rumble......
"Huh? What??"
The unbelievable sight before them made those approaching Oliver—and everyone else—look up and stagger back.
Not by will, but biological instinct.
Jo yelled.
"Everyone back off! Get back!"
At his signal, Fighter Crew members scattered, fleeing from the Chef and Oliver.
As if realizing it was no longer their place.
Moments later, the building—that could hold over a hundred—and its contents floated in brick-sized chunks.
An utterly unrealistic scene.
Yet Oliver manipulated the debris like an experiment, flicking his finger.
"Like this...? Ah, got it."
Grasping the feel, Oliver moved his fingers.
The floating materials and items clumped together at his gestures, forming seven massive spikes.
They plummeted straight to the ground upon completion.
Whiiiiiish———
"Huh? Wait. What??"
"Fuck!"
"D-Dodge!!"
"Run! Run!"
As Fighter Crew members shoved each other to escape, the spikes crashed in a circle.
——Boom!! Kwang! Boom—!! Quakwang!!
The road flipped, the half-built structure collapsed, dust clouds turned the area hazy.
Cough! Cough! Amid coughs and curses, the Chef dusted his clothes and spoke.
"Do you know how much money and time went into building this fortress?"
"Sorry. But using it for other buildings... it'd be bad if innocents got hurt, right?"
Not the words of someone who'd already caused chaos, but no one pressed it.
Oliver stepped inside the spike boundary, surveying the area.
No injuries. The spikes separated the Chef from the Fighter Crew.
Best of all, most had abandoned fighting him.
"Does this give me the right to speak now, Chef?"
"Didn't peg you for a show-off..."
"I prefer talking, but Victor said power matters."
"......."
Oliver glanced around again.
"To war with Crime Firm, you'll have to fight me directly, not order your underlings. What'll it be?"
Oliver spoke facts.
Everyone realized Jo's "betrayal" wasn't baseless after that display.
To control Fighter Crew, the Chef had to prove his power—like when he first arrived.
Realizing this, the Chef grimaced with a chilling smile.
"Hahaha... I must look like a real joke to you. Since you're so confident. Fine, screw plans and rewards."
"No, that's not it. I'll try to win, but no guarantees. I know you're no ordinary foe from seeing your disciples. If you just leave, I won't—"
Oliver couldn't finish.
The Chef hurled his steak knife at him.
Enveloped in black magic, it flew bullet-fast, but Oliver's experience let him dodge by a hair.
He even blocked the real follow-up attack.
Clang!!
French knife met quarterstaff.
The Chef shed his mild mask, grinning with demonic fury.
"A plain staff, no spells, blocks my knife...? Magic item?!"
"Not sure. It's just sturdy."
"Yeah? Let me see!!"
Clang!!
The Chef drew another kitchen knife with his free hand and slashed.
Oliver reacted in time, parrying harmlessly with the quarterstaff.
"Definitely not some amateur relying on tricks. That's more like it! Piss me off like this. Good, very good!!"
With those words, the Chef extracted emotions from his body, processed them into black magic, and applied it to his flesh.
His skin turned dark red, muscles hypertrophied visibly.
It resembled ordinary disease magic at a glance, but Oliver saw it wasn't.
Unlike typical ones, his body didn't bloat excessively—a sign of immense mastery.
Compressing expanded muscle for peak efficiency.
"Just worried— you used a lot of emotions earlier. Got spares? Hate sore losers blaming it."
"Used plenty, but some left—"
—Boom!!
Mid-reply, cracks spiderwebbed from the Chef's feet, exploding outward.
Piiing————Clatter!!!
The Chef propelled himself explosively.
Using the recoil, he closed on Oliver in an instant and slashed.
The blade aimed for Oliver's throat, but he twisted aside, donned Black Suit, and raised a Shadow Tentacle barrier—just barely blocking.
The tentacles shredded in the process, of course.
"Impressive skills. And your black magic finesse... Wonder if I can have them by eating you?"
The Black Hand cannibal Chef faction's chef licked his fangs-only teeth and elongated crimson tongue as he asked.
"Who knows?"
