Chapter 250
Chapter 250
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 250
Chapter Title: Dave the Fixer (1)
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"Do you know about the Tick-Tock Apocalypse?"
Oliver posed the question he was most curious about.
He had returned to the Magic Tower for this very reason, after all.
But then Oliver witnessed something strange.
For a fleeting instant, the eyes of Merlin—who never lost his composure no matter the situation—shook.
Even when disguised as the old bookstore owner, or when facing the Martel researchers, those eyes had never faltered.
It was so brief that he might have mistaken it, but Oliver's instincts told him he hadn't imagined it. He had seen it clearly.
Merlin quickly regained his calm and spoke.
His tone was so natural that, if he blinked, Oliver might have even forgotten that momentary tremor in his eyes.
"The Tick-Tock Apocalypse... Are you referring to the Judgment Apocalypse?"
Recalling what Iwan Bremner had said, Oliver nodded.
According to him, the clock ticking meant the world was filled with evil, God's patience had reached its limit, and everything would come to an end. So, judgment fit as well.
"Is that its official name? The Judgment Apocalypse?"
Merlin shook his head.
"There's no such thing as an official name. Or there might be, but at least I don't know it."
Oliver focused intently on Merlin's eyes in surprise. His emotions were blocked by a wall of mana, making it hard to tell truth from lie.
"You look quite shocked. Surprised that even I don't know the details?"
For a moment, Oliver nearly mentioned the Archive he'd heard from Iwan.
A great mage who had inherited knowledge and power spanning over a thousand years. A being who had received countless tomes of knowledge across ages.
But Oliver held back the words on the tip of his tongue.
Going that far might force him to explain about Iwan too... and that would complicate things too much.
"Dave?"
"Ah, sorry, sir. To be honest, yes, it is a bit surprising. I just figured you would know."
"Why would you think that?"
"You're powerful, hold a high position in the Tower, and must have studied extensively. So I assumed you knew just about everything."
"I once thought the same of myself. But as I aged and learned more, all I realized was my own foolishness and incompetence. Sorry to disappoint you."
There was an emotional weight to his response.
Regardless of the answer itself, Oliver found Merlin's reaction intriguing.
"Still, I can share what I do know. Care to hear it?"
"Gladly, if you're willing."
"Hm... Well, the Judgment Apocalypse you asked about is an extremely old tale. No one knows its exact origins. It's said to be centuries old, but it could be even ancient. Time is just a metaphor anyway."
"You know quite a bit about it."
"It's a story that's been around since the first Archive... It's like a myth, folktale, ghost story, or fairy tale. That's why cults, doomsayers, and the like adapt it everywhere. It's so distorted now that the original is unrecognizable."
"I see."
"Yes, even some black wizards and a sect of the Pater Church use versions of it."
"That's... surprising."
Oliver voiced his honest thought.
It was fascinating that two polar opposites shared the same story.
"Cheap knockoffs always steal ancient authority to cloak themselves beyond their station."
Merlin's words carried a mocking edge.
There seemed to be a deeper meaning, but without reading his emotions, Oliver couldn't tell.
"If it's not too much trouble, could you tell me how the black wizards and Pater Church use it?"
Merlin stared at Oliver intently. He half-expected a question about why he was asking, but instead, Merlin answered readily.
"Among black wizards, it's interpreted as: when the world fills with evil, the Demon Prince opens the gates of hell and punishes the hypocrites on earth, ushering in a new era."
A puppet flashed through Oliver's mind.
"And the Pater Church?"
"They claim that at the moment those hell gates open, the son of the holiest angel sacrifices himself to save humanity from evil."
He'd felt it was eerie before, but now it was even more so.
Not only did black wizards and the Pater Church—complete opposites—share the story, but their versions meshed so perfectly.
It felt like one piece split in two.
As if artificially pieced together.
When Oliver shared this thought, Merlin just laughed.
"The world is inherently strange. That's what makes it fun."
"I agree... Then, do you know the original version of this apocalypse?"
Merlin shook his head.
Oliver wasn't too disappointed.
Without knowing its true name, the chances of having the original were slim to none anyway.
But he did hear something else intriguing.
"However, there are a few records of derivative tales from that apocalypse. Interested?"
"Of course. But how?"
"A few previous Archives were fascinated by such stories, so I inherited them. I can dig them up if you want. It'll take time, though."
"I'd be truly grateful."
"In exchange, there's a condition."
Merlin presented it as if he'd been waiting. Oliver asked what it was.
"If you learn anything about this, would you share it with me? Continuing the previous Archives' research is part of my duty."
"Yes, that should be fine. I'll likely need your help too, sir."
As soon as Oliver agreed, Merlin extended his pinky.
"Then, let's make it official. Pinky promise."
Oliver hooked pinkies with Merlin and made the promise.
It benefited him too, and there was no reason to refuse.
Right after, Merlin said he'd look into it slowly, then vanished as abruptly as he'd arrived.
What an unpredictable man... Not that it was a bad thing.
Kevin arrived soon after Merlin left, having finished his classes.
Kevin read the report Oliver had prepared, confirmed no issues like Merlin had, listened to the rest of Oliver's account, and prepared for any potential questions or interrogations from the Tower or other schools.
It felt a bit much for someone who'd just come back from work, but given Oliver's status, he decided to just go along with it diligently.
Until well past quitting time.
Thanks to that, though it was exhausting, Oliver wrapped up the matter quickly and even got a short vacation.
'Yeah, after handling something this big, taking a few days off to recover makes sense. Coming back looking perfectly fine would draw more eyes... Rest up. I'll tidy things up in the meantime.'
Kevin's words were sincere, and Oliver gladly accepted.
He'd asked Merlin what he wanted, so he had no business at the Tower for a while, and he had his own tasks anyway.
So Oliver handed Kevin the evidence (storage device) from the Chimera School, formally took his vacation, went home, rested fully for a day to recover his stamina, and finished his backlog.
Like processing materials (corpses), for instance.
"...Hoo, this is tough."
Randa mid-upper residential area. In one of the nicer houses in L District.
In the basement, Oliver wiped sweat from his brow and grumbled.
He'd processed over twenty unprocessed corpses he'd stockpiled, eight recent female black wizard corpses, Batori's corpse, and more—over thirty in total all at once. It was only natural.
It was quite laborious. Not to the point of death, though.
Thanks to the Childs' help.
"How are you all holding up?"
"Kyaaahng... Tired!"
"Pshook-! Pshook-!"
The 'Corpse Doll-Helper1' and 'Helper2 Parker', handling expert tasks like triple-dipping corpses in preservative, slitting flesh to coat bones, etc., responded each in their way.
Then 'Rag', who was hanging the processed corpses on hooks along the ceiling rails, and 'Duncan', stamping them and logging materials, replied too.
"Thud-thud-! Thud-thud-!"
"........."
These two specialized in combat, but with manpower short, he'd assigned them simple tasks like moving items and stamping materials.
Fortunately, they did surprisingly well.
Thanks to them, the double-digit corpse processing—which was a first—finished faster than expected.
He now understood why the Corpse Doll creation guide stressed securing labor. The difference between having help and not was night and day.
"Good work, everyone. Thanks to you, we finished quickly. Appreciate it."
"Kyaaahong... Done!!"
"Pshook-! Pshook-! Pshook-!"
"Thud-! Thud-! Thud-thud!!"
"........."
The Childs seemed pleased it was over, responding in their own ways.
Oliver promptly gave them their promised reward.
Mixing large quantities of emotions and life force in a giant flask and providing it to the Childs.
It was the only thing that made Childs happy: eating.
'At least for now...'
Oliver naturally blended emotions and life force as if breathing, and the Childs—famished—gaped wide and slurped the mixture voraciously.
Shooooooowaaaaak——!
Shooooooowaaaaak——!
Shooooooowaaaaak——!
Shooooooowaaaaak——!
The emotion-life force mixture dwindled rapidly.
In the meantime, Oliver inspected the finished materials.
All in good condition, stamps correct.
Generic corpses without traits: C stamp.
Average traits: B stamp.
Significant traits: A stamp, and so on.
Most of Oliver's stock was C, but happily, the Tower trip yielded good ones.
The female black wizards (A-grade) and Batori (S-grade) were prime examples.
Oliver paid special attention to the female black wizards and Batori's corpses.
All the female wizards had their heads blown off during subjugation, so none had upper bodies intact. Batori's was decapitated and dismembered.
Functional degradation was inevitable. Corpse Doll quality depended on corpse condition and damage.
'What a shame...'
Oliver thought, eyeing them.
But he also pondered ways to maximize function and utility.
Despite the state, acquiring such materials was rare, so he had to find optimal uses.
'Especially, research controlling multiple at once... Even many Corpse Dolls are pointless if I can't handle them simultaneously.'
Oliver considered making more Childs but dropped it.
Maintenance costs made reckless expansion unwise. Management would be hard too. Current numbers were ideal.
His gaze fixed on Batori's corpse.
The hook-held limbs and headless torso, next to the limbless torso and head.
'Maybe use Lady Batori after all. She was skilled in manipulation arts too. Could become a Corpse Doll controller...'
Recalling the half-corpse zombie and her daughters from the Chimera lab, Oliver mused.
'Even if not, no big loss.'
Oliver pulled a red notebook from his pocket.
Looted from Batori; it screamed client list no matter how he looked.
Clients for blood magic elixirs.
'If the old man was right, it's almost certainly that... But why carry it herself? Isn't it important?'
He pondered briefly, then shook his head.
What mattered was he had Batori's corpse—for blood magic elixirs—and the client list.
Oliver ignored minutiae, focusing on his goals.
He pocketed the notebook, grabbed the leather case with his glutton pouch.
Then turned to the sated Childs.
"Shall we prepare to head out?"