Chapter 283
Chapter 283
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 283
Chapter Title: The Man Who Once Saved the World (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
[What a truly horrific day it is...]
One day, a news report flowed out from the radio.
On a weekend, no less.
[Sudden sporadic terrorist attacks have broken out across the city. Bombs exploded in multiple factories in the industrial district, and massive pileups occurred on several major roads, resulting in countless casualties. The police attempted an immediate response, but they're facing difficulties due to traffic congestion and a shortage of manpower. Some are saying...]
Just as the news reported, a barrage of big and small incidents erupted unexpectedly across Landa during what had been a peaceful weekend.
Factory explosions, massive traffic accidents, and brazen daylight robberies, among others.
Of course, even though there were many, when viewed across the entirety of Landa—a city the size of dozens combined—it wasn't all that impressive.
In fact, the area around Oliver's house was as peaceful as ever.
Though these were events happening in the same city he lived in, they felt utterly remote to Oliver, like something occurring across the ocean.
And it seemed others felt the same way; aside from the sites of the incidents and police stations, Landa as a whole remained calm.
However, once the weekend passed, an incident occurred that no one could ignore any longer.
It was the overnight disappearance of key ABC figures, including Seamus.
"I never imagined he'd pull something like this."
In the largest conference room of Landa City's Security Bureau headquarters, Paul Carver spoke up.
He displayed bewilderment, but there was a faint trace of delight as well.
Because his claims had been proven right—Seamus was a con artist.
'Of course, the process wasn't smooth...'
Oliver recalled the events of the past two weeks.
The fierce battle of words between Seamus and Carver.
The moment it was revealed that Seamus's claim of never meeting a financial scammer was a lie, he attempted a frontal assault.
He admitted that the person he met was indeed suspected of being a financial scammer by the central continent's authorities—and that he was an Enjoyment Druid, to boot.
The revelation caused a massive stir, but Seamus didn't back down.
He claimed that the man suspected of being a scammer was actually innocent, falsely accused.
It was nonsense that would make any ordinary person furrow their brow, but when someone of Seamus's caliber brazenly declared it with a straight face, people hesitated.
Riding that momentum, Seamus shouted through newspapers and radio.
'Craig is a diligent businessman. In truth, he's been wrongly branded a scammer by the backward financial systems and outdated economy of the central continent. That's precisely why I met him in secret. Everyone knows how penniless those country bumpkins are, right?'
Unable to deny the meeting, he instead asserted Craig's innocence while mocking the fragmented central continent's paltry economy and antiquated financial systems—small nations cobbled together.
It was a stunning response. Even more astonishing was that it worked.
Seamus announced a surprise plan to expand ABC overseas via Craig and promised to return even greater profits to Landa's initial investors.
He pledged to raise the returns from 10 percent to a minimum of 12 percent, up to 15 percent.
Those words shook the investors who had begun doubting him.
The prospect of more free money clouded even their primal survival instincts.
Of course, Carver didn't sit idle.
He officially publicized ABC's risks, and just as he had explained to Oliver, he analyzed the monthly investor payouts ABC was obligated to make against their current revenue rates, declaring it a scam in a bold move.
His argument, backed by complex mathematical calculations, was enough to reignite public anxiety, and a significant number of people began withdrawing their funds.
Yet Seamus maintained his initial confident demeanor, promptly returning principal and profits to those who came demanding their money.
As if to say he didn't need the likes of them at all.
At the same time, he flaunted partnership proposals from overseas tycoons and investment firms, including Galos, to showcase ABC's solidity and vision.
'You're all misunderstanding something. ABC's true vision isn't your money—it's the World Tree investment system I've built. World Tree investment system...! While some city hall drone blathers on with complications to scare you, there's one thing both you and that fool have overlooked... Every single ABC investment to date has succeeded. If there's even one failure, bring it here. We'll shut the whole company down!!'
Seamus shed all pretense in his declaration, but it wasn't wrong.
There was a gap between the returns Seamus claimed and ABC's actual investment yields, but ABC had never incurred losses.
Seamus argued that the investment system was growing daily, poised to deliver stable profits soon, and any shortfalls in the interim would be covered by investments from the overseas tycoons and firms proposing partnerships—ensuring all customer funds were safe.
To prove it, even as many customers withdrew, the investment returns were paid without delay.
By the end of the week, most who had pulled out changed their minds and deposited their money back into ABC.
Some even took out loans to do so.
Seamus's gamble had paid off. Thanks to it, the investment pool surged from 2.8 trillion to over 3 trillion with an additional 300 billion.
But then, amid the weekend chaos gripping the city, Seamus vanished like smoke.
"The city's in pandemonium now because of it. Especially among the working class. The shrewd city tycoons managed to pull out a portion of their funds, but the laborers borrowed money and dragged in friends, entrusting their entire fortunes. It's a tragedy."
Carver said it without a shred of sincerity.
"However, where there's bad news, there's good. The city council, recognizing the incident's severity, has granted us the position of special task force to capture Seamus. Now we can operate openly without skulking around."
Arthur raised his hand.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Go ahead."
"I'm glad we weren't wasting our time and actually did something worthwhile, but isn't a special task force too dangerous? I mean, it's basically volunteering to fix this mess. If we fail, we're in hot water, right?"
Oliver wasn't well-versed in this area, so he had nothing to say, but judging from the others' reactions, it didn't sound wrong.
They were thrilled to have seized control of the case but burdened by the official responsibility now thrust upon them.
"The spineless city council might use us as meat shields to deflect the city's rage."
"I won't deny that. In fact, councilors who took Seamus's money proposed handing the job to us. If things don't go smoothly, they'll throw us under the bus."
"Damn it... Then we're in deep shit? We don't even know where Seamus is. Does anyone?"
Arthur glanced at Albert of the Moirai School.
"Sorry, I don't. I was monitoring via the World Tree, but after getting hit last time, I've held back on using it for communications—couldn't catch anything. The fact that he switched communication methods in an instant suggests he'd prepared his escape long ago."
In other words, the move seemed sudden, but the preparations were thorough.
With no trace of Seamus and police manpower tied up by the weekend incidents, it was a pretty hopeless situation.
But Carver's reaction differed.
"All true. We have no idea where Seamus is, and my surveillance team hasn't reported back. But if there were truly no way, we wouldn't have gotten the special task force position in the first place."
"...Then?"
"Could everyone come in, please?"
Carver called toward the conference room door.
The door creaked open, and two groups entered.
Faces Oliver recognized.
Joe from Fighter Crew and Jane from Sisterhood. Each had brought their own people.
"...And them?"
"That group's Fighter Crew, a fixer outfit contracted with Crime Firm. Those are Sisterhood. They'll unofficially supplement our manpower and intel shortages."
Albert questioned.
"I'm not quite following. I know of them, but why are they suddenly helping us?"
Albert of the Moirai School asked. As Carver opened his mouth to reply, Jane spoke first.
"To survive."
All eyes turned to Jane. After getting Carver's nod, she continued.
"ABC grew too big, and people seem to have forgotten for a moment, but Seamus belonged to Crime Firm and Sisterhood. Once folks realize that, they'll come for us tooth and nail."
Oliver raised his hand for the first time.
"Yes, Dave... Nice to see you again."
"Likewise. Nice to see you too, Miss Jane. As I recall, Mr. Seamus left Sisterhood with his support base in tow. Is that an issue?"
"To people who've lost everything, that's trivial. In fact, one of Seamus's girlfriends—and a former Sisterhood member—Daisy was kidnapped yesterday while shopping by fixers who'd lost their money. Tortured. She didn't die, but she'll spend the rest of her life bedridden."
"Ah... I see."
Oliver nodded in understanding.
"We're in the same boat. Crime Firm is freaking out about getting dragged into this mess. Some entrusted organizational funds too."
Joe said politely to Oliver. He wore a suit like before, but looser, and his hair was tousled without wax—a more natural look than his recent stiffness. It suited him.
"Ahem... May I continue?"
In the conference room where he'd suddenly ended up reporting to Oliver, Carver asked courteously.
Oliver apologized and yielded the floor.
"Thank you. As the two just explained, they have their own reasons to catch Seamus. Crime Firm has intel from tailing him and thousands of members at their disposal. Sisterhood has wide-ranging info networks and knows secret hideouts from Seamus's underlings. So we'll collaborate with them to pursue him. First, we'll split into teams and—"
-KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!
As Carver briefed, a horrific death rattle echoed through the entire conference room.
It was so gruesome it sent chills down everyone's spine.
Naturally, Carver stopped speaking, and all heads snapped toward the source.
Toward Oliver.
Oliver apologized to the group and pulled a small, round hunk of meat from his pocket.
The meat chunk was a compressed, dried human head—the communication device from Yi Wan.
The grotesque item silenced the room, and Oliver apologized again as he activated it.
The screaming stopped.
"Uh, right now, something urgent—"
Oliver spoke, but faint words emanated unilaterally from the mouth area of the head.
Oliver froze.
The voice was too soft to make out, but they could tell from his reaction that something was off.
Even Oliver, who remained stoic through any crisis or humiliation, had his expression crumple ever so slightly.
For most, it might pass as mere displeasure, but for some reason, everyone in the room felt a strange tension.
A tension crawling up their spines.
Shrrk.
Oliver pushed back his chair and slowly rose.
Then he spoke.
"Mr. Carver... Sorry to interrupt while you're working, but I have something to attend to. Mind if I step out?"
"Guh...! Get the kids and women out fast!!"
Kant, leader of the Poor Brothers, shouted.
At his cry, the beggars armed with guns and clubs evacuated the women and children through a rear secret passage.
Trained as they were, they moved without screaming, hands clamped over their mouths.
In this city, the weak survived not by crying for help, but by hiding in silence.
The moment he confirmed the women and children escaping safely, a beggar youth yelled.
"They're coming!!"
Urgent shout. Dozens of beggars tensed and ducked behind cover.
They leveled their guns at the intruders emerging from the dark far end of the sewer.
"Fire!!"
At Kant's command, the beggars holding position at the abandoned sewer entrance unleashed a barrage.
Muzzle flashes lit up the sewer, toppling the invading foes simultaneously.
"Kyaak...!"
"Hold! Hold! Those bastards have guns!"
"What the hell kind of beggars!!"
The panicked enemies retreated, shouting. Kant's men rejoiced at the unexpected defense.
Kant warned them not to let their guard down.
If gangsters attacked while they were surveilling Seamus, it was no good sign.
No sooner had he thought that than something charged from the darkness again.
A druid.
"Fire!!"
Kant yelled again, and his men fired at the rapidly approaching man.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—
The deafening gunfire rang out.
But the man scoffed mockingly, covering only sensitive spots like his eyes, and charged straight ahead.
Though flesh and blood, bullets didn't pierce him.
"What the insane...!"
"Haat—!!"
As the beggars recoiled from the absurd strength, the man roared and kicked a drum barrel filled with cement with his long leg.
Astonishingly, the cement-packed barrel crumpled like an empty tin and flew several meters, crushing the beggars in its path.
"......"
Kant was speechless at the shocking sight. A monster rarer than those he'd faced as a fixer.
The shock didn't end there.
Rats the size of wild dogs squeezed through ceiling cracks and pounced on the Poor Brothers.
Squeak-squeak! Rip! Squeak-squeak! Rip!
The rhythmic cries and rats devouring entrails alive evoked terror, handing the fight's momentum to the intruders in one fell swoop.
Squeak!! Squeak!!
Squeak!! Squeak!!
Kant swung his quarterstaff to split the skulls of two rats lunging at him, then fired his pistol at close range, piercing another's head.
Then he shouted.
"Everyone, retreat!!"
At Kant's order, the Poor Brothers desperately battling the intruders fled in unison.
It was the perfect command to save the dying members, but for Kant himself, it spelled danger.
"You're the boss, huh."
The druid casually picked up a splintered wooden crate fragment and hurled it at Kant.
Light as he made it seem, the crate was heavy, and as proof, Kant—who failed to dodge—collapsed upon impact.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The druid approached.
Members fired to shield Kant, blocking the way, but the druid crushed one's skull with a casual swing.
Witnessing it, Kant—despite the agony—squeezed out strength to swing his quarterstaff, but the druid caught it with swift reflexes.
"You the leader of these beggar scum?"
The druid asked, then chopped down with his hand, severing Kant's arm along with the staff.
Crunch! Crimson blood spurted.
"......!!"
Kant screamed silently.
"Oh... You endured that?"
The druid stomped on Kant with a massive foot, applying slight pressure. Kant's ribs cracked audibly.
"Old man. You the one who tailed our boss? The hotel thing?"
Kant glared instead of answering.
"Won't talk, huh... Whatever. Doesn't matter. I'm just here to vent on this shitty situation."
The druid lifted his foot slightly. About to crush him.
Then, an eerie presence stirred from ahead.
He turned. A man actually stood there.
A figure cloaked in a thick, massive mantle.
He spoke.
"You who worked hard—begone."