Chapter 206
Chapter 206
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 206
Chapter Title: Wrap-up? (1)
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Thankfully, the meeting wrapped up without a hitch.
Gordon, having heard Oliver's words, stared blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter and agreeing.
"...Alright. Since you've put it that way, I can't argue further. I can't give you a firm yes, but I'll talk to the other directors and see what I can do."
It was essentially agreement to Oliver's proposal. He even hinted at his willingness to help.
"For now, I'll make sure there's no clash with Fighter Crew. Mr. Dave, you do as you said and catch the rest of those thieves with their help. That'll give my persuasion more weight."
Oliver naturally agreed.
Gordon praised the pleasant atmosphere and politely excused himself, heading out to his car.
The restaurant staff, careful not to show their relief, immediately began cleanup. Forrest called Oliver over and they went into the manager's office together.
"Thank you, Mr. Forrest."
Oliver said as he closed the door to the office.
It was thanks for stepping in to handle the meeting on Oliver's insistence. Without his cooperation, it would have been a real hassle.
There was Murphy as a backup, but he was with Crime Firm. No denying Forrest was the best choice.
Forrest took a sip of his drink, exhaling a mix of relief and lingering unease.
"Care for a drink?"
"Sure."
Pour, pour. Forrest filled a crystal glass.
He handed it to Oliver.
"Hold on."
As Oliver took the glass, Forrest spoke up. Then he lightly clinked his own crystal glass against Oliver's.
Clink.
A clear, crisp sound. Oliver asked,
"What was that for?"
"It's called a toast. You do it when there's something to celebrate. It's just an old habit—don't ask for details."
Oliver shut his mouth, about to press further.
"...So what are we celebrating?"
"Thanks to you, I've hit the jackpot in my old age. I was planning to quietly retire with some light hobbies, but now I've landed something huge. Life's full of surprises... Thank you."
Forrest meant most of it sincerely. He was genuinely thrilled by the unexpected fortune and grateful to Oliver for bringing it.
Yet his emotions were conflicted at the same time.
He'd worked tirelessly to keep a certain distance from Oliver.
Friendly, but not too close?
Of course, he didn't dislike it. Oliver appreciated that distance too.
For a middleman connecting jobs and people, emotional boundaries were key.
"I don't deserve thanks. If anything, I'm the grateful one. Thanks to you, I could keep my promise to Jo."
"Hmm... Bit late to ask, but why make that promise in the first place? Someone like you could've backed out without it. Hell, it just made things more complicated."
Forrest asked out of genuine curiosity. He didn't check every time, but through Heimdal, he periodically monitored Oliver's fights and knew his level well.
Honestly, Oliver was at a stage where, if he wanted, he could be exclusively hired by Crime Firm or the city's big shots—not to mention starting his own outfit like the legendary Seamus.
Martial prowess was as competitive an edge in this city as business savvy or politics.
After a moment's thought, Oliver answered Forrest's question.
"Hmm... If they'd been dead set on killing me, I might not have had a choice. But avoiding a fight when there's a way out felt off? Plus, I killed Jo's friends, so Jo's taking care of their siblings. If Jo dies too, that'd be awkward."
"...You're scaring me with how sincere you sound."
"Am I?"
"Yeah... You're really not taking the money?"
The money Forrest mentioned was the training fee for teaching black magic to Fighter Crew members.
Normally, he could've demanded it from Fighter Crew, the middleman Forrest, or the client Crime Firm. But Oliver had firmly refused.
"Yeah. If I'm helping, taking money feels weird."
"...Fair enough. If you charged properly, the deal might not even go through. It wouldn't be pocket change. It's a win for me, but you sure? Not my place to meddle, but spreading your skills and knowledge that freely?"
It was common sense, perfectly reasonable.
Mages and black mages lived by their knowledge. To them, it was power, authority, livelihood.
They hoarded it tightly, doling it out only for top value.
It might seem stingy, but it was only natural.
Yet Oliver, as if oblivious to that norm, replied,
"Sure. It's not like it wears out from teaching. Scheduling regular sessions is a drag, but that's on me."
Forrest said nothing more on the topic.
They were talking the same subject, but on completely different wavelengths—no real conversation happening.
Still, it didn't annoy or frustrate him. If anything, the frustration felt oddly pleasant.
To feel this in Landa, of all places.
Forrest thought the man before him was truly bizarre. Unrealistically so.
"Whew... Guess I should lay off the booze for a while. Got a ton on my plate."
"Yeah, figured."
Indeed. Contracting nearly three hundred Fighter Crew members and supplying them to Crime Firm was massive labor.
And that wasn't all.
"Gotta relocate the restaurant, expand the security firm. Scout partners among T District's other middlemen too. Won't have a moment's peace."
"Middlemen?"
"Yeah. When your fixers get overloaded past a certain point, you hire other middlemen. More like partners."
"Ah, got it... But do you really need to move the restaurant?"
"Not thrilled about it myself. Location matters. But at this scale, we have to. More staff, clients, fixers—all expanding."
Forrest's conviction shone through, and Oliver didn't pry further.
If Forrest, with more experience, said so, there was reason.
'Hmm... If I offer to help with paperwork when contracting Fighter Crew, would that be rude?'
Oliver pondered seriously.
It was prep for working at the Magic Tower.
He'd gotten the job with Merlin and Kevin's help, but Oliver knew zilch about paperwork.
Not the same, but Forrest handled documents too. Helping might teach him the ropes.
Still, asking felt awkward.
He'd already leaned on Forrest for Fighter Crew. A paperwork newbie offering help? Too much trouble.
Thankfully, Forrest spoke first.
"Dave. If it's not too much, mind if I ask a favor?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"When training Fighter Crew on black magic, it'll be in X District, right?"
"Probably best that way."
"Mind if I tag along?"
"Pardon?"
"Jo and the others offered to oversee, but I like managing my fixers personally. That's how things get done right. Easier to work and build rapport with you there. Would it be okay? I'll pay, of course."
"Then, can I ask a favor too?"
"Thought you'd just say yes—now I'm flustered. You don't like me?"
"......"
"Don't give me that look. So, what's the favor?"
"Do you handle paperwork?"
"Half my job is paperwork. Outsourcing gigs, gathering intel, cross-checking, contracting fixers... Of course. Why?"
"Could you teach me some paperwork then?"
"...Damn, switching to middleman?"
***
There was a minor hiccup with Forrest, but the deal went through smoothly.
It wasn't much of a deal anyway. Just take Forrest to X District.
In exchange, he'd teach Oliver paperwork.
'Of course, after handling the urgent stuff first.'
Awl, the lone woman on Jonathan's team, spoke through the comms device in his ear.
Oliver, Bear, and a few Pinkman members moved in formation, tightening the net.
That's when they spotted Bennium and his thugs on the run.
Bennium was a subordinate of the cannibal chef, a colleague of the chef, and a notorious criminal even in Galos.
His main rap sheet: terrorism. Hence the hefty bounty in Landa too.
"These punks have a nice bounty, but their goons suck!"
Bear swung his axe at one of Bennium's fleeing underlings in a narrow alley.
The thug tried blocking with his black magic-enhanced body and kitchen knife, but the blade snapped, slicing diagonally from shoulder to chest.
"Hmph!"
Bear flung the impaled body off his axe like an annoyance.
The thug, gashed from shoulder to chest, sprayed blood, crashed into the wall, and sprawled like trash.
Awl and Bear's brief spat came through the comms.
She couldn't argue—it was sound logic. Jonathan chimed in.
Jonathan specifically called out Oliver at the end.
Makes sense—he'd killed three black mages who'd gotten the cannibal chef's knowledge.
The first manipulator was unavoidable for the mission, but the chef and pig-faced fatty were Oliver's solo kills. He felt responsible.
"Got it. I'll do my best."
On Jonathan's signal, he flanked and blocked Bennium's front.
Impressive speed, matching a car—thanks to honed body, embedded mana, and mana stone-powered combat suit.
Focused on the rear, Bennium startled to a halt. Jonathan seized the gap, aiming his massive revolver.
Massive mana buildup matching its size. Trigger pull: mechanical click, then thunderous boom.
Bang—!!
The mana bullet, with shockwave, pierced everything in a straight line.
It shredded and pulped Bennium's unprepared underlings—power rivaling a corpse puppet archer's sword-off shotgun.
"Damn it!"
Bennium, losing all his men in one shot, powered his black magic legs to leap onto a roof. Bear, in relentless pursuit, vaulted up swinging his twin axes.
"Urraaah!"
Mana-infused axes sliced bricks like cheese, but agile Bennium acrobatically dodged, then spat green venom from his mouth.
Green poison fluid.
It coated Bear head to toe; his suit hissed and smoked.
Sizzle... Clang!!
Then—a purple magic circle in midair. Purple bullets poured down on Bear.
Holy water-filled blanks. They burst, neutralizing the poison.
Damage taken, but minimized.
Bear secured, roared, and swept his axes sideways.
"Haat—!!"
Unexpected counter: Bennium's flesh pulped, bones shattered. He retreated, spilling guts and ribs.
Not dead yet, as expected.
"You bastard..."
Bennium raged for a counter, but spotting approaching Oliver from the rear, he fled instead.
The gashes on chest and gut already healing.
"Not letting you go easy."
Jonathan and team climbed the building, sealing escape.
Bennium cornered atop the roof.
His patience snapped; face twisted savagely like the chef's. He muttered,
"Was gonna let you off quiet, but screw you all..."
His cheeks and neck glowed green.
Wide-area disease—weaken black magic incoming.
Oliver activated first. Black webs enveloped Bennium.
He froze, as if time had stopped.