Chapter 299
Chapter 299
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 299
Chapter Title: Persuasion (2)
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Dusk had fallen. Oliver pointed his finger at Jo from the Fighter Crew and unleashed a hate bullet.
The extracted emotion seemed to gather at his fingertip before launching.
It hurtled straight toward Jo's face.
Though it was a short, concise attack that was tricky to defend against, Jo calmly raised his arm to shield his face.
Clang!!
The hate bullet Oliver fired collided with Jo's black suit and black armor gloves, vanishing pointlessly into the air.
Even though Oliver hadn't held back at all.
"Impressive."
Oliver leaped high into the sky in admiration, then wrapped multiple layers of black armor around the tip of his quarterstaff to form a mace, swinging it down in that very pose.
An attack with devastating physical force that could shatter not only golems but even Shamus's wooden armor.
Oliver amplified its power with gravity, while Jo didn't dodge—instead, he pulled back one fist, ready to counter.
It was an excellent choice.
With his black magic gloves currently thickened like exoskeleton armor, dodging would have been futile anyway. Better to clash head-on.
Oliver drove his quarterstaff downward like a nail into the ground.
Jo concentrated his gloves on one arm and thrust his fist upward from below—like punching the sky itself.
———————!!!!!
The quarterstaff and fist collided, unleashing a deafening roar and a small shockwave. Nearby windows shattered as the spectating Fighter Crew members squeezed their eyes shut and covered their ears.
Once the thunderous noise subsided, the Fighter Crew members cautiously opened their eyes and looked ahead.
What they saw was Jo withstanding Oliver's strike—and Oliver staring at his shattered mace in awe.
Jo had countered Oliver's attack head-on.
The onlookers erupted in cheers of "Ooh!!" sending waves of admiring support toward Jo.
Even Oliver was among them.
"Truly impressive."
Oliver remarked, eyeing the black armor mace at the end of his quarterstaff. It was torn on one side like a steel ball caught in a shredder, emotions leaking from the gash.
"When did you learn to reshape it into a fist?"
Oliver asked, glancing at Jo's pointed fist, resembling a hydraulic hammer.
"Once I could wield the black suit and black armor perfectly. I figured reshaping the gloves beyond just extending them would be more efficient—like this."
Jo concentrated the gloves on one hand, enlarging it before morphing it into a claw and thrusting it toward Oliver.
Oliver instinctively swung his quarterstaff to block, but as proven moments ago, their power levels were evenly matched.
In the end, Jo's claw seized Oliver's weapon.
Grip...!
Oliver was impressed once more.
Jo didn't just handle the black suit and black armor skillfully—he wielded them with greater depth than Oliver himself.
But what pleased him even more was Jo's emotional state.
He didn't have full confidence in victory yet, but he was determined to land a solid hit on Oliver.
The perfect fighting spirit.
Last time, Oliver had worried when Jo asked if he'd become their leader, but it seemed those concerns were unfounded.
Jo was growing on his own.
"It's not over yet."
Jo gripped Oliver's quarterstaff and reshaped his other fist into a hammer, aiming to smash it apart.
"Ah, that won't do."
Reading Jo's intent, Oliver reshaped the emotions gathered at the quarterstaff's tip, triggering an explosion of rage.
The sheer volume of emotions forming the mace caused a massive blast. The spectating Fighter Crew members cried out in alarm, calling for Jo.
It wasn't hard to understand. In the past, that power would have torn Jo's body to shreds.
But not anymore.
At worst, it rattled his life force, half-destroyed the black magic gloves enveloping his body, and sent him flying into a distant wall.
Oliver activated black magic toward the dazed Jo.
Dartboards materialized on Oliver's hand and Jo's torso. Oliver amplified his obsessive emotions, pulling Jo toward him.
Jo was drawn in exactly as Oliver willed.
In that moment, Oliver mirrored Jo by wrapping black suit and armor around one arm to form a massive fist, then swung it to completely shatter Jo's half-destroyed glove.
Jo, his stamina depleted, sprawled flat on the ground and asked,
"Haaah... How was it?"
"You were brilliant. You wielded the black suit and armor with mastery, and your techniques delved deeper than mine. Truly remarkable."
"All I have is this one talent."
Jo spoke not out of humility, but honest self-assessment—and it wasn't entirely wrong.
Reshaping the black suit was impressive, but it stemmed from his limited repertoire compared to Oliver.
Yet Oliver refuted it.
"No, impressive is impressive, no matter what. I never thought to exploit the black suit and armor that deeply. You've taught me a thing or two."
As always, Oliver spoke from the heart, which made Jo inwardly glad despite his feigned indifference.
"...Thank you for the praise. Any room for improvement? I figured this much out on my own, but I'm stuck now."
"Hm... Compress the armor."
Oliver provided the answer instantly at Jo's request. It seemed casual, but it hit the core issue.
"Compress it?"
"Yes. Your armor's too bulky right now—it kills your specialty, mobility. You're forced into a firepower slugfest, which doesn't suit you. Compress it to maintain power while restoring your speed, and you'll improve dramatically."
Oliver pinpointed the very concern nagging at Jo's instincts.
Jo had no choice but to agree, though it left him perplexed.
"But compression isn't easy, is it?"
"I'll think of a way. Also, practice firearm-series techniques."
"Firearms, you say?"
"Yes—not learning ranged attacks, but converting your black suit into black magic like Wrath Boom. That'll boost your close-combat power immensely. In the past, your proficiency wasn't up to it, but now that you handle the black suit perfectly, a bit more practice should do it."
Just as Jo thought he'd reached completion, Oliver assigned new homework.
But Jo felt motivation surge rather than a sigh.
"Hm... Any way to secure a ranged option? Team support covers it mostly, but I fight solo sometimes."
"Maybe? You could learn, but efficiency... Ah, how about hurling your gloves?"
"The gloves?"
"Yes—like reshaping the suit and armor, peel off a chunk and throw it as a lump. Even plain, it's like chucking a metal blob. Morph its properties, and it's a bomb. Seems most efficient."
Oliver suggested again. It was off-the-cuff, but Jo was convinced it was the best approach.
"If it's alright, may I ask one question?"
Just as Jo burned with enthusiasm for the new possibilities, Oliver asked.
Jo straightened up, assuming a polite listening posture.
"Yes, please speak."
"You're more motivated than before and showing results. Did something happen?"
"No... Nothing special. I just realized we messed up last time and decided to get our act together."
"Last time...?"
"When I asked Dave to become Fighter Crew's leader."
"Ah..."
"I'm truly sorry for that."
Jo apologized with genuine sincerity, not formality.
"I thought it was a gesture of gratitude and respect at the time, but looking back, it felt like dragging Dave in for our gain. We weren't trying to grow ourselves—we wanted to use him."
"...It wasn't that bad."
"No, regardless—it was an unreasonable demand. Taking on the ABC case made me realize it... Woke me up. Not just me—everyone."
Jo gestured to the surrounding Fighter Crew members, who nodded politely toward Oliver in confirmation.
"That's heartening to see."
Oliver said sincerely. He'd been slightly disappointed by the prior proposal, but now it felt redeemed.
"I heard from Forrest that you've been taking a break for a while—is that true?"
"Yes... He said it's safer that way."
"Then, could I ask a favor?"
"A favor? What is it?"
"Dave taught us black magic, and we're strong enough to protect our own lives now. But in this line of work, some of us die inevitably. We're looking to recruit new members—could you train them a bit?"
"New recruits?"
"Yes, we need manpower."
It wasn't an odd request.
Losses were inevitable here, and they had to replenish each time.
"We'll match your pay as best we can."
"Pay isn't—"
"—No, please accept payment now. We'd appreciate it."
Jo spoke politely but firmly.
"We're in no position to say this after all your help, but clear give-and-take is best. If Dave refuses pay, we might lean on you again later. This isn't buying your teachings with money—it's a gesture for a healthy relationship. One-sided aid invites misunderstandings. You wouldn't want that, right?"
Jo laid it out logically—not for his gain, but out of consideration for Oliver. Unable to refute, Oliver nodded.
"...You're right. I'll accept. As for the amount... through Forrest?"
"Of course. When could you start?"
"A little time, please? I need to check my schedule."
Oliver replied, factoring in his magic tower duties.
Back to work, evenings or nights seemed best.
'Gonna be busy again for a while.'
Oliver recalled his early days training the Fighter Crew while working as a magic tower instructor.
Mornings to evenings at the tower, evenings to nights in District X. Exhausting, but not unwelcome.
'Maybe draft a proper training schedule this time?'
Oliver thought of the tower's infrastructure and Kevin's efficient handling.
Not his passion, but worth trying.
As Oliver prepared to reply to Jo, a boisterously carefree voice rang out from the Fighter Crew spectators.
"Ah...! Still fighting? The sweaty bromance between guys is making me nauseous."
Oliver turned to see Yi Wan shoving through the crowd.
No one liked him much—they grimaced and made way. Behind Yi Wan trailed the corpse doll striker and Duncan, looking like zombies.
Oliver had lent the corpse doll temporarily after Yi Wan heard he'd used it to take down Shamus and wanted to check it out.
Oliver approached and asked,
"Business done?"
"No—now I've got some. Thought it'd be a fun toy, and damn if it isn't. Can I have this one?"
An unexpected demand.
The first to react were the corpse doll striker and Duncan trailing Yi Wan.
The Second inside the striker aimed its Sword of Shotgun at Yi Wan's head, spewing curses like machine-gun fire, while Duncan silently drew his meat tonfa.
Ready to swing if needed.
Oliver raised a hand to stop them.
"Everyone, calm down."
At his words, the fired-up Second and quietly enraged Force glanced over before slowly holstering their weapons.
Not appeased, but holding back for Oliver.
Oliver spoke.
"Sorry, Yi Wan. I can give you the corpse doll, but not the child."
"But I want it."
Yi Wan demanded shamelessly.
Jo and the Fighter Crew watching from the side exchanged glances, their displeasure growing, but Oliver remained composed.
"Sorry."
"Ah... I didn't want to say this, but I saved your friend too, didn't I? And you're still this stingy? Think about justice."
"I'm always grateful for that. Truly... So, is this a favor? From you to me?"
"Favor?"
"You said you'd ask me for a favor in return later, right? Is this it?"
"No, that's separate from... Ugh... Fine. Didn't expect you to be this cheap. Thought you were a pushover, but betraying me? I'm disappointed."
"Apologies again. The child's under observation logs—hard to hand over."
"Observation logs?"
"Yes, on its growth."
Yi Wan perked up instantly.
"Growth logs for a black magic creature... Intriguing. Share those, then. I want to read them."
"Understood."
Oliver accepted promptly, prompting Yi Wan to burst out laughing.
"Oh, handing over such valuable knowledge? Total pushover after all. You upheld my faith!"
"Not for free, though?"
Oliver countered again, souring Yi Wan's grin. His expressions were wildly changeable.
"...What?"
"There's an item I'd like to request in exchange. Something that stores large amounts of fresh blood and mixes it regardless of properties."
Yi Wan paused mid-rage, reacting to "blood."
"Hoh... Boldly asking me to craft something, but aside from that, the specs intrigue me. Blood, huh... Starting a business?"
"Not business, but personal matters... Can't go into details. Could you make it? In exchange, the child logs and max pay."
"Hm... Deal. I'd have done it for one offer anyway. Pushover confirmed."
"Glad you're pleased. You've helped me greatly, so I'm happy too."
Yi Wan, who'd been deliberately irritating, grimaced at the words.
Like swinging a full-force punch at empty air—utterly futile.
So he changed tack.
"Any other requests?"
"Actually, one more. Big Mouth... Know a way to increase its capacity? It's full lately after long use."
"Well... Only method I know is cannibalism with same or larger kin."
"Cannibalism?"
Jo echoed unwittingly. It was a tad grotesque.
Yi Wan didn't deny it.
"Black magic's always a bitch like that. Why I like it."
But Oliver pondered calmly, unperturbed.
"Cannibalism... Just feed it?"
"No—make them fight. Winner eats for effect. Don't know why, but it works."
"Hm... Could you make another glutton pouch then, Yi Wan? Slightly larger than human-sized?"
"Have my disciple Smith do that... But you sure? If your Big Mouth loses and gets eaten?"
"Then I'll buy the winner."
A perfectly rational proposal. Yet Big Mouth and the kindred-spirited children stared at Oliver wide-eyed, as if to say "No way."
Yi Wan felt the same.
"Wow... You're a real bastard, huh?"