Chapter 220
Chapter 220
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: Partnership Proposal (1)
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After taking down the foreign gang alliance led by Francois, Oliver returned to the branch manager's building with Joseph and the others.
The branch manager was skeptical at first when he saw Oliver's group back before dawn, but his doubts vanished once Oliver pulled out the bodies of Francois and his men through Big Mouth and showed them.
"Ah... it's really him. Did you take him out yourself?"
Oliver shook his head.
"No, not me—Joseph did it. I didn't do a thing."
The branch manager glanced at Joseph, who wore his usual stoic expression.
The sight stirred a mix of fear and admiration in him.
And for good reason. Sure, the gang had over a hundred members, but Francois and his underlings were far more troublesome.
Bullets didn't faze them, bombs barely scratched them, and whatever weapons they swung cleaved or shattered anything in their path.
The moment they closed the distance and swung their blades, regular armed troops got shredded like infantry facing a tank.
Yet this monster had been turned into a corpse right after they arrived.
The rumors about Landa being overrun with freaks seemed to hold water after all.
"Oh, right... You said the foreign gang had about a hundred guys?"
"Yes? Oh, yeah... around a hundred."
"We checked the warehouse, but there were only eighty. The other twenty were nowhere in sight."
"Ah... They're probably patrolling other districts. We'll clean up the remnants ourselves."
"Glad to hear it... By the way, do you need these bodies?"
"The bodies?"
"Yeah, if you don't, I'd like to have them. But if you do, no worries."
"Ah... They're a pain to store anyway. Mind if I just take a few evidence photos?"
Once Oliver gave the okay, the branch manager grabbed a camera from his office and snapped some shots.
Oliver felt a wave of relief watching him. It would've been a shame if they'd asked for them back, but everyone was graciously handing them over.
'Now, how should I process these?'
Oliver pondered as he eyed Francois and his men's corpses.
Duncan was still around, so he didn't desperately need more close-combat corpse puppets right now.
Besides, with Child's numbers limited, there was only so much he could do even if he made a ton of them.
He could control them himself, but that required focus and tanked efficiency.
'Wait, hold on... Do I really need to control them personally? Couldn't I have the Children do it?'
Oliver mulled it over and decided it wasn't a bad idea.
All he'd need was corpses of skilled manipulation-type black mages capable of puppet control. Totally doable.
At the very least, worth experimenting with.
"Mr. Dave, got all the photos."
The White Port branch manager pocketed the film and spoke up.
Oliver had Big Mouth swallow the bodies again, then neatly folded it and tucked it into the leather case on his belt.
"Thanks again for wrapping this up so neatly. If you're okay with it, I'd love to treat you all to something..."
The branch manager ventured cautiously.
Oliver started to politely decline but paused and checked with the group.
"We appreciate the offer, but we're getting tired... Oh, I haven't asked you all. What do you think?"
Joseph and the others shook their heads at Oliver's words.
"Nah, we're good too...?"
"Ah, got it. Makes sense—you've been working since you arrived... Sorry, I should've been more considerate."
"No, it's just... Ah."
Oliver lit up as a thought struck him.
"If it's not too much trouble, mind if I ask you something instead?"
"Me? Well... I don't know much, but if I can answer it, fire away. What's on your mind?"
"Do you know anything about Seamus? The druid Seamus."
***
Luckily, the White Port branch manager knew plenty about Seamus.
Or rather, Seamus was a big name within Crime Firm.
Made sense, really...
He'd come to Landa alone, become a fixer, and claimed the top spot in just a year—a living legend.
And at the peak of it all, he'd boldly retired and joined Crime Firm.
Sure, fixers who made a name often joined big organizations, but Seamus was different.
'Yeah, it's just hearsay, but they say he had better options than Crime Firm back then. City councilor, tycoon, that sort of thing.'
Considering power, wealth, fame—city council or tycoon beat Crime Firm hands down. Yet for some reason, Seamus turned them all down and volunteered for Crime Firm.
And soon enough, the reason became clear.
He unleashed the savvy he'd shown as a fixer, diving into boardroom power struggles, securing influence until he was treated like his own faction despite being an individual. From there, he launched his own business.
"You mean Leaf Loan?"
"That's the one. Leaf Loan. Even big shots in Crime Firm know it. Rumor has it he built it with his girlfriends' money, but whatever magic he pulled, he sniffed out cash-strapped businesses, loaned them first, and watched them boom. Word is his assets rival the board members'. And he's expanding, so it doesn't sound like exaggeration. There's even one here in White Port."
The branch manager spoke with admiration tinged with unease.
Gordon Goodheart had shown similar discomfort toward Seamus before. Seemed like the old Crime Firm crowd didn't care for him.
'Wonder why.'
Anyway, with the basics on Seamus in hand, Oliver stood, headed to the hotel the branch manager had arranged, and crashed until late lunch.
"Thank you for the hospitality. I slept like a rock."
Oliver bowed politely to the branch manager seeing him off.
"No, no—the thanks go to you. You solved my biggest headache in hours... Truly grateful."
"I keep saying, I did nothing. Give the credit to them. That's who deserves your thanks."
Oliver gestured to Joseph and the crew, and the branch manager bowed to them too.
"Yes... Anyway, thank you again. If you're ever in White Port, come find me anytime. Official business, personal favors—whatever I can do, I will... Shame we can't treat you properly, though."
"Your thoughts alone mean the world. We've got prior commitments anyway."
"Prior commitments?"
"Yes."
***
After parting with the White Port branch manager, Oliver didn't leave the city. Instead, he headed to the meeting spot.
En route, he told Joseph and the others,
"You all can head back first if you want."
"What's the harm in returning a bit late? Heard the meeting spot's a great restaurant—might as well grab a bite while we're at it. Unless we're in the way?"
"No, not at all. Just thought you might miss your siblings."
"Not so much I'd rush back for them."
Joseph's words drew laughs from Owen and Sam.
"...Was that a joke just now?"
"Probably?"
"Ah... That's a good one. Gotta remember it."
"Not that good... You joking?"
"Pardon?"
"Pardon?"
"......."
"......."
The conversation twisted awkwardly. Oliver steered it back on track.
"If you're okay with it, could you check the map for me? First time here—tough finding my way."
Joseph nodded, glanced at the map Oliver handed over, and guided them smoothly.
"This is it."
Joseph stopped in front of a two-story building.
The whole place was a restaurant, with "" etched mysteriously on the sign.
It was definitely the invited spot.
Confirming, Oliver pushed open the door and stepped in.
Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling. The bell chimed like Forest Restaurant's, but with a subtle difference. A burly staffer approached.
Surprisingly, he was a mana user.
"Sorry, sir, but we're closed today due to circumstances."
"I was invited here."
Oliver presented the business card from the druid he'd met at the warehouse yesterday.
Black card, elegantly stamped with [Leaf Loan].
"Ah, apologies. The boss is waiting. Right this way."
The staffer turned far friendlier.
Oliver thanked him and started upstairs with Joseph and the crew, but the staffer stopped them.
"Sorry, sir... Just you, please. No group. Boss wants a one-on-one meal."
"They haven't eaten either."
"No worries there. We can serve them on the first floor. Other staff are eating now too... Care to join them?"
Oliver checked with the group; they exchanged looks and nodded.
"We're fine either way."
The staffer nodded approvingly and called another employee over.
Then he guided Oliver and the group separately.
"Enjoy your meal."
"You too, Dave."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Following the staffer, Oliver climbed to the second floor, where savory aromas wafted immediately.
"Welcome. Right on time."
Seamus, seated alone amid countless tables, greeted him mid-bite on a T-bone steak, bone and all.
He was more casual than at the auction house, but otherwise unchanged.
Green hair, green clothes, upbeat vibe, exuding the leisure and confidence only Landa's elite could muster.
'Well, Gordon called him part of Landa's new elite class...'
Oliver approached the new elite and bowed.
"Hello, Mr. Seamus. Thanks for the invite."
"Ha! Polite as they say. Most fixers are rough around the edges—cocky the second they hit it big. I was one too, mind you."
Seamus laughed heartily, his emotions radiating joy, satisfaction, delight.
"I'll take my leave, boss."
"Yeah, see ya."
Seamus waved the staffer off warmly.
"Didn't know you ran a restaurant too."
"Just a figure of speech. Not the real owner—I'm an investor, technically. The actual boss is this one."
Seamus extended his long pinky finger like it was his height.
"Your pinky's the boss?"
"No, fuck—means my girlfriend."
"Ah..."
"You don't know the lingo at all."
"Sorry."
"No need. I was green when I first hit Landa too... Not as green as you, though."
"When you first came to Landa—three years ago?"
"Yeah. How'd you know? Background check?"
"Not a check—just overheard. You're famous at Crime Firm."
"Ah, yeah, I got a rep. Joined at my peak, handled all the dirty work. Now that I'm settled and building my business, the crazies gossip behind my back... Be honest. They badmouthed me, right?"
"Yes."
Oliver answered without hesitation.
"Too honest!"
"Figured Landa business folks trash-talk constantly—it's par for the course. Sorry if it offended."
Oliver spoke plainly, no malice. From his fixer days, Landa's daily grind was like that—cursing was mild.
"Kuhahaha! Oh man, you're growing on me. Sit, eat. Then let's talk business."
"Business?"
"Obviously. You think I called you just for chow?"