Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Temporary Disciple (2)
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The male supervisor said.
"What does it matter to you?"
The female supervisor replied.
"Because I'm a supervisor just like you. You can't just go acting recklessly."
"Ha—! A supervisor like me? A supervisor like me!!"
"Yeah. A supervisor just like you."
The woman held her ground without backing down, but the atmosphere was far from supportive.
Dozens of people wore worried expressions, as if the female supervisor was the one at fault. Oliver, who knew nothing of the situation, couldn't make sense of what was going on.
"You still haven't grasped the situation, have you? Haven't you heard I'm about to become a formal disciple?"
"It's just a rumor."
"Just a rumor? I heard it straight from the direct disciple himself. Actually, no rumor needed—you can tell just by looking at my skills."
With those words, the male supervisor gathered black light in both hands. It was small and unstable compared to Joseph's, almost pathetic, but that didn't stop the others.
Everyone else backed away in fear, leaving only the female supervisor standing tall.
"Whether someone becomes a formal disciple is entirely up to the Master. What do you think he'll do if he sees you rampaging like this without knowing your place?"
The mention of Joseph cooled the heated atmosphere even further. Even the bulldog-faced male supervisor grimaced uncomfortably, though his hostility toward the female supervisor didn't fade.
"Fine... The Master will decide. At the end of this month. And if I do become a formal disciple, I'm curious how you'll act then... Hey, what are you waiting for? Get to cleanup."
The male supervisor ordered his workers to tidy up, and they sprang into action like dogs with their tails on fire.
Oliver slipped away through the chaos, hiding his presence as usual. Normally, he would have waited for things to quiet down completely before emerging, but not today.
Instead, he lingered in a corner of the hallway, waiting for the female supervisor who'd helped him earlier to pass by.
She was approaching, chatting with her own workers.
"Why'd you do that, Marie sis... He's definitely gonna hold a grudge."
"Yeah, it's not even our business. You shouldn't have gotten involved..."
"I heard Tom’s basically guaranteed to become a formal disciple this time. The guy's got a vicious streak."
"Enough. Everyone quiet down. Nothing's set in stone. It's all just rumors. You think I've heard stories like that a few times after being here for years? Drop it. Just rest up... Huh?"
Female supervisor Marie stopped mid-step. The reason was clear: she'd spotted Oliver waiting for her.
Marie let out a deep sigh, as if she'd seen something annoying. She spoke to him coldly.
"I just helped because I didn't like Tom's behavior. No need to thank me. It wasn't because I like you or anything. Don't get any weird ideas—just go. You're a hassle."
Oliver stood there with his usual blank expression. Marie furrowed her brow and asked again.
"What? Got something else to say?"
Oliver nodded.
"Yes. What's a formal disciple?"
"What happened?"
In the study beneath the sausage factory, Joseph spoke as he read a book. Standing across from him was a handsome blond man in his mid-twenties.
The man's name was Andrew, Joseph's direct disciple and second-in-command of Joseph's Family.
"There was a small disturbance at the factory. That kid you brought in recently? Seems he caught Tom's eye the wrong way and got beaten up."
"Heh heh... If that troublesome guy took a dislike to him, I'd expect he'd be in pieces. Is he okay?"
"Who do you mean?"
"The kid who got beat up. The one I brought in recently."
"Ah... Yes, nothing to worry about. Marie stepped in just before it got bad."
"Marie? That's unexpected. Sticking her neck out for someone else's business."
"She's the type who can't stand injustice, as you know. Plus, she probably hated seeing Tom strut around. Tom's on track to become a formal disciple in two years, while she's been a temporary disciple for six... She's probably anxious."
"Ahh... I see. I remember now. Eternal temporary Marie. Hmm, I thought black magic required both talent and desire in equal measure, but apparently not. Keep an eye on her a bit longer, and if she doesn't shape up, demote her to servant."
Direct disciple Andrew said nothing. It was the rule here: kids with no potential became servants or kitchen hands.
"You can go now. Report back if anything else comes up."
Andrew didn't leave. He stood there quietly, prompting Joseph to ask.
"What? Not going?"
"...Master. May I ask you something?"
"...Go ahead."
"Why keep watching that kid you brought in? You made him a temporary disciple because he lacks talent, right?"
Joseph closed his book and said.
"Why are you so interested?"
"Well, you've never done this before. You usually just take in temporary disciples, teach them once or twice, and lose interest... As your direct disciple, I'm curious why you're doing this now. Yes."
'As your direct disciple, I have the right to ask.' Andrew's eyes said as much. But when Joseph met his gaze, he trailed off meekly.
Seeing right through Andrew's thoughts, Joseph played the benevolent master.
"A reason? Nothing special. He's just an amusing kid."
"Amusing?"
"Yeah. Unlike the others, he's not after power or money—he purely wants to learn black magic. Pretty entertaining."
"So, he has some talent?"
"Talent... Hmm, quite a bit, actually."
Andrew's face visibly stiffened at that.
"Hahaha. Scared?"
"N-No, not at all!"
"Don't worry too much. That kid's barely a beginner—not even initiated yet. Whereas you've been my direct disciple for years. No need for baseless fears. Focus on your training."
"Ah... Yes."
Reassured by his master, Andrew finally relaxed. Flushing with belated embarrassment, he hurried to leave the study, but Joseph called him back.
"Hold on. You said Tom’s being promoted to formal disciple?"
"Yes, as you mentioned last time, official announcement at month's end... Why?"
"Hmm..."
Joseph didn't answer. Instead, he sank into thought, as if struck by an amusing idea.
"Good. Since I'm back after so long, it wouldn't hurt to show some mercy. Andrew, announce it to the temporary disciples. I'll hold a class in two days."
"A class?"
Andrew blurted out in surprise. Temporary disciples with no talent could still receive Joseph's teachings, but only once every two or three months. When his condition was off, it could stretch to six. Holding one right after returning from a trip was unprecedented.
Andrew asked, masking his shock.
"Are you sure that's okay?"
"Of course. With one temporary becoming a formal at month's end, a final skill check wouldn't hurt."
Joseph grinned slyly, clearly scheming something.
"...So, we're disciples in name only—not real ones. To become a real disciple, even low-grade is fine, you have to make formal disciple. Got it?"
Oliver nodded at Marie's question. It had been hard to grasp at first, but her detailed explanation cleared it up: what temporary disciples were, what formal ones meant.
In simple terms, temporary disciples were disciples in name only—not truly disciples.
They were more like candidates who also pulled double duty as workers.
They got no proper teachings and handled all the grunt work. This hit Oliver pretty hard.
Work wasn't the issue. The real problem was not learning black magic properly. That was his one hope... Big trouble.
Seeing Oliver like that, Marie said.
"Don't be too disappointed. Life's unfair by nature."
Did her words comfort him? Oliver perked up soon enough. His corpse-like face made it hard to tell from his disappointed look, though.
"So... How do you become a formal disciple? That Tom guy said he's about to."
At that, Marie scowled. Paired with her awkward purple hair, she looked even angrier. She spoke in a sharp, irritated tone.
"Look, every few months, in those classes, you build skills and get recognized as qualified for at least low-grade disciple... But don't get your hopes up. It's not easy for temporaries to go formal in the first place, and slots are limited. It'll take years at least. Not something for you, who's only been here a week."
"How do you get recognized as low-grade?"
Marie furrowed her brow.
"Didn't I just say don't think about it...? Sigh. You need solid basics in black magic. Hate Bullet and Black Shield, at least. Know what those are?"
"..."
"It's shooting emotion energy from your soul like a gun, or wrapping it like a shield. Both pack more punch than a gun. I saw the Master use it when he took me in—wiped out the local thugs in seconds."
Marie's face twisted complexly. Oliver could see it: awe from the memory, greed, anxiety all mixed.
She craved black magic too but couldn't grasp it, leaving her on edge. It weighed on her heavily; after agonizing, she suddenly stood.
"Wait, why am I explaining all this to you? You're not even under me, and you haven't brought me anything... Ugh, what's your name?"
"Oliver."
"I don't know what possessed you to ask me this, but this is the last time. I'm not idle enough to answer every question. I'm advising you because you seem clueless. If you want help in the future, bring something at least. Nothing in this world is free. Got it?"
Oliver nodded. His perpetual blank face made it unclear if he'd understood, but Marie figured it wasn't her problem anymore and stood to leave.
Why had she answered his questions at all...? Maybe that dazed look charmed her.
As he turned to study, one of Marie's workers rushed up excitedly.
"Marie sis! Marie sis! Good news! Good news!"
Too thrilled to notice Oliver, she blurted it out.
"What? Calm down and spill."
"Don't freak out! The Master's giving us a day off tomorrow for a class! Can you believe it? A class! Trips alone used to mean four months minimum before one!"
"Yeah... What's gotten into him?"
Marie sounded genuinely shocked. It'd been six years without this. Then, tactlessly, Oliver chimed in.
"Is there really a class tomorrow?"
"...Yeah."
"That's great."
"Sure is... You're lucky. Really."