Chapter 204
Chapter 204
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: Negotiation (1)
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Oliver swung his sword with a light snap, and the blade naturally traced a line, severing the chef's neck.
A head tumbling to the ground with a thud.
It wasn't even a particularly fast strike, yet the chef met his end just like that.
A terribly anticlimactic demise for a man who had single-handedly built the Fighter Crew.
Perhaps because of that, the nearly three hundred Fighter Crew members froze in place, staring at Oliver in silence.
Overwhelmed by shock and terror.
Oliver gauged their emotions before turning his gaze to the blade in his hand.
A blade of malice crafted in the chef's likeness.
Even looking at it again, it didn't sit right with him. Its effectiveness was outstanding due to the material's properties and the vivid imagery used to bring it to life, but it was too much. Far too sharp.
"...Overdid it, as expected."
Oliver shook his hand as if dusting off something unpleasant, reverting the sword to sentiment before flicking it away.
'Ah, but the promise with Jonathan... Ah, whatever.'
Remembering his belated promise with Pinkman to capture a human flesh chef subordinate, Oliver examined the chef's and the fat man's corpses.
Just like the auction house raiders, the two bodies bubbled grotesquely before crumbling away. Muscles, flesh, bones, organs—all of it.
He'd suspected as much, and there it was.
As Oliver considered collecting even these remnants and reached for Big Mouth, someone approached and offered a membrane box and collection tools.
It was Jo.
"Use this if you need it."
"Ah... Thank you."
Grateful for the unexpected help, Oliver accepted the items and gathered the crumbled flesh into the box.
"...Sorry, could I have three more?"
Jo nodded and held up three fingers to the people behind him.
They had been furtively watching Jo's mood, but at his command, they hurriedly brought over more boxes.
"Thank you. I want to keep two samples for each."
"Why two?"
"One for me, and the other to hand over to Pinkman... We made a promise, and if I can't keep it, at least giving him this seems like the polite thing to do."
As Oliver finished collecting, a scream erupted from one side.
"Gaaah!"
Turning toward the sound, he saw the fat black mage's crimson meat hammer—and beside it, a man shrieking in pain.
His forearm, which he'd apparently reached for it with, was torn and bleeding.
"Guh... ugh..."
"What happened?"
Jo strode over and asked. The person supporting the man replied in surprise.
"I-it was so fascinating, I was examining it, and then that mouth popped out and bit me."
"Why'd you touch it? Is it yours?"
Jo pressed him with his characteristic fierce glare.
He had no reason to get angry, so why was he fuming like that? Then Oliver realized.
Jo was checking Oliver's mood.
Worried Oliver might take offense, he was stepping in first to prevent things from escalating.
Oliver assured Jo it was fine and approached.
"More importantly, are you okay?"
"Pardon? ...Y-yes! Yes! Just a little bite."
"So, you got torn up just by touching it?"
"Yes, I reached out without thinking, and suddenly..."
The man trailed off. Oliver shifted his gaze to the mottled crimson hammer and drew closer.
The crowd parted instinctively before his footsteps.
Oliver inspected it up close. The man's words were true.
The worm-like lips protruding from the hammer now sported teeth that hadn't been visible during the fight.
And those teeth resembled those of carnivores more than humans—sharp enough that even a graze would tear flesh.
'Did it activate because someone other than the owner touched it? Some kind of defense mechanism? Or is it trying to repair the damaged flesh?'
Oliver pondered as he checked the hammer's torn section.
To heal the chef, it had sucked in surrounding life force and patched itself with a bit of flesh from the hammer.
A recovery method unique to the human flesh chef's faction, perhaps... At any rate, it was an utterly bizarre item.
'But regardless, this is no ordinary object.'
He wasn't an expert, but Oliver was convinced of that much.
Its destructive power was one thing, but the ability to extract life force was extraordinary.
Even widely used items like the glutton pouch required advanced skills to craft, so the level of this unseen item went without saying.
Oliver reached out.
Clack!! Grind...! Snap! Snap! Grind...!
The hammer's countless teeth gnashed and clacked.
As everyone tensed, Oliver placed his hand on it.
The teeth in the protruding mouths retracted into their gums.
The onlookers gasped in surprise. Ignoring them, Oliver continued examining the hammer.
Both the handle and head were made of bone and flesh, pulsing like a living creature.
It was quite heavy—without Black Suit's help, even lifting it would be a struggle.
Yet its weight distribution was well-balanced... It was more than worth studying.
'But do I have to carry this? Wonder if Big Mouth can swallow it...'
"Dave."
"Yeah? Jo?"
"What do you plan to do with it?"
"For now, I'll try feeding it to Big Mouth. This hammer... It seems like an artificial lifeform similar to the glutton pouch, but I'm not sure if it'll eat it. Big Mouth can't consume living things."
"That's not what I asked."
"...?"
"...We're grateful you saved us from that lunatic who turned this place into a warzone, but honestly, the situation hasn't changed. How do you plan to convince Crime Firm of our innocence?"
"Ah..."
"You're not lying, are you?"
Jo asked with a frown.
"No, not lying. I have a method in mind, though I don't know if it'll work."
"Mind if I ask what it is?"
"Hm... Before I answer, can I ask you something first?"
"What?"
"You've worked as Black Market security, right? How was it? The pay, treatment, that sort of thing?"
"You always manage to catch me off guard."
In the Forest Restaurant on Street 27 of Sector T.
Its owner and broker, Forest, looked at Oliver—who had led Jo and the Fighter Crew members into his office—and spoke.
To show his words weren't empty, his face openly displayed his astonishment.
"Did I ask for too much?"
"Hold on. I need a sip of liquor."
Uncharacteristically, Forest excused himself to Oliver before pouring and downing a shot.
"Hm... Wait, make it two. I can't calm down."
He said that, took another swig, and then spoke.
"Whew... Could you repeat what you said one more time?"
"I'm talking about the auction item recovery job I took this time."
"Right, the Y District gangs teamed up with the human flesh chef's subordinates for that mess."
"And one of those human flesh chef subordinates was none other than the Chef. The Fighter Crew's boss."
"That was what I planned to tell you today. Word's spread everywhere."
"Yes, Jo told me today as well."
"Let me explain from here. I want to know if I understand correctly."
At Forest's suggestion, Oliver happily yielded the floor.
"Hm... So you think the Chef spread that rumor himself?"
"Yes."
Oliver nodded. He wasn't entirely confident in the speculation, but he believed it.
His well-hidden identity suddenly exposed, rumors spreading, and instead of denying it, he prepared for war—the Chef's actions were hard to explain otherwise.
Forest nodded in agreement as Oliver laid out his reasoning.
"It's not a completely absurd story. No, it actually makes more sense. We were suspicious of how suddenly the rumor spread. If he did it intentionally, it fits... Oh dear, I've been drinking alone. Care for a drink, guests?"
Regaining his composure, Forest offered Jo's group beside Oliver.
Jo shook his head.
"I'd prefer to stay sober if possible."
"Excellent."
Forest praised Jo, refilled his own glass, and continued the conversation.
"What do you think his goal was? Why would the Chef abandon his long-hidden identity and painstakingly built organization just to draw Crime Firm's attention?"
"Like I said, I'm not confident in my guess, but maybe it's to distract from his real objective."
Forest pondered, seeming to suspect the same.
"People say the Fighter Crew's relations with the Y District gangs soured, forcing them to relocate their base."
"That doesn't sound implausible. Especially since word is you broke the alliance between the Y District gangs and the human flesh chef's subordinates, Dave... So, probably to loot whatever they really want."
"What they really want?"
"Yeah, if they pulled this stunt in this situation, that's the only thing that makes sense. But I'm curious what it's worth going this far for. Either way, we need to report this."
As Forest urgently activated a large communication device and reached for the receiver, Jo flipped the hook switch down.
Forest eyed Jo displeasedly, irked by the action.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"No intention of interfering with your work, sir, but we have a promise. Our safety comes first."
Forest's eyes flicked to Oliver at Jo's resolute tone.
Oliver gestured for understanding, and Forest closed his eyes briefly before setting down the receiver.
"Please make it quick. I have my own business."
"Thank you, Mr. Forest."
"No need. Just... don't touch my communicator without permission again. It's like interrupting someone mid-sentence... It feels insulting."
Oliver nodded politely and asked Jo not to do it again. Jo immediately nodded and apologized to Forest.
"Fine... So, what would you like me to do?"
"Could you arrange a meeting to clear up the misunderstanding with Crime Firm... Even after things settle if it's urgent."
"Ah, you said the Fighter Crew itself wasn't involved?"
"Yes. They were even threatened to cooperate."
"Personally, I find it truly regrettable. That aside, there are a few facts you've overlooked."
"What are they?"
"First, I'd hate to disappoint you, but Crime Firm executives are big shots. Not just in the underworld—this spans the entire city. They control Randa's underground economy and wield significant influence across all of Zelland. I can't just arrange a meeting with them on a whim."
"Isn't it possible since you're the one who commissioned this mission?"
"That naturally leads to the second reason. Our employer is, strictly speaking, not Crime Firm, but Pinkman—Jonathan—who took their commission. Meaning we have no standing to discuss business matters with Crime Firm. That's Jonathan's domain."
"Then, Jonathan—"
"—That's the third reason. Pinkman's reputation stems from their professionalism: delivering results without questions for the right price. You're talented, but they won't accommodate such requests. It goes against their policy."
Ah... Oliver was left speechless after being rebutted three times in a row.
To think the conversation would stall so early. He felt eyes on him from behind.
"Hm... So, is contacting Crime Firm completely impossible?"
As he considered asking Murphy if worst came to worst, Forest replied.
"Strictly speaking, it's not impossible. I have a pipeline to them. But using it requires a proper pretext. Can't just call out of the blue."
"A pretext?"
"Yes, that's the rule."
"Hm... What exactly counts as a pretext?"
"Broad question. Could be mutual interests or involvement, offering help to Crime Firm, proposing a deal—something substantial, not just 'I'm bored.'"
"What if I request a meeting in exchange for repaying a debt?"
"Debt? That could work. It'd be a legitimate trade. But do you have a Crime Firm executive who owes you?"
"Not sure about debt, but I unintentionally helped during the auction raid. They offered an item as thanks, but what if I decline it and ask for a meeting to clear the misunderstanding instead?"
"...That would certainly suffice—more than enough. But are you sure?"
The composed Forest restrained himself as usual, but after a year working together, Oliver could guess what he meant.
It was too steep a price—too unreasonable. He was saying to drop it due to the loss.
Oliver turned around. Jo and the Fighter Crew leaders stood there.
"Hm... I've already made the promise."