Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Gray Market (1)
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Tap- Tap- Tap-
Oliver headed to the magic brew workshop where Associate Professor Huberton was, clacking his quarterstaff against the ground with each step.
It wasn't far, but along the way, he could see traces of the gangsters who had been felled by Black Darts or who had barely escaped with their lives.
Perhaps because of that, when he focused his eyes, no more interlopers came into view.
Not only that, but the number of people loitering around had sharply decreased as well.
Of course, he caught glimpses of emotions mixed with curiosity, interest, and a touch of fear from one or two people, but he decided to ignore them.
There were plenty of folks in X District who spied on others like this. Kant had said as much himself.
If he paid attention to every single one, it would never end, so unless it was something truly critical for security, he should just let it slide.
Kant had even said it might help build his reputation if he played it right.
Just in case, Oliver touched his face.
More precisely, the black magic leather mask he had pulled over his head.
Fortunately, there were no tears or damage.
Having confirmed that, Oliver ignored the onlookers and pressed forward.
As long as he wore this face, he had an escape route even if danger struck unexpectedly. Better to rack up as much experience as possible while he could.
Who knew? It might make things even smoother.
With those thoughts, Oliver soon arrived at the magic brew workshop.
"Hm..."
Oliver surveyed the four buildings used as workshops.
Each one had eight, eight, six, and nine people respectively, all of them in irrational states filled with fear, terror, and confusion.
The most striking was the largest workshop, where nine people were gathered. One of them stood out with a different emotional state from the rest.
Like the others, he was flustered by the sudden situation, but he wasn't paralyzed in panic.
He was mustering his will, summoning courage, racking his brains, and clinging to hope that he could somehow turn things around.
And with it came faint glimmers of blue light.
That blue glow wasn't an emotion. Nor was it life force.
It was similar to those two yet different, something he'd seen once before.
When was it...? Ah! The lightning mage.
Oliver quickly realized it was mana.
"So that guy's the mage, then?"
The moment he spotted his target, Oliver headed straight inside.
There were no signs of hostility or ulterior motives, so he entered without hesitation. The moment he did, a thick dusty smell mixed with sour alcohol hit him.
He also spotted pipes snaking complexly along the ceiling, multi-purpose water tanks, distillation equipment.
Piles of potatoes and corn against one wall, boxes of raw potion liquid.
As he slowly observed his surroundings, he spotted people hiding under desks or behind equipment and spoke up.
"I know you're there. Come on out."
Silence was his answer. More precisely, silence laced with terror.
"I won't hurt you. Everyone come out. Please."
This time, his persuasion worked, and one person slowly emerged with hands raised.
Wearing a grimy work uniform and cap, he showed no will to fight—he seemed like just a regular laborer.
"H-Hic... P-Please... s-spare me..."
"You can go."
Oliver politely pointed toward the door.
Perhaps he thought it was a trick, because instead of relief, confusion washed over him, soon turning to near-panic as he bolted outside.
"Eek!"
"...Won't the rest of you come out?"
The other laborers, who had been watching, slowly emerged, gauged the situation, then screamed and fled just like the first one.
Oliver couldn't fathom why, but at least it cleared the place out.
Oliver glanced around once more and headed deeper into the workshop where the mage was.
Passing distillation units lining the hallway, various machines, and boxes of red-glowing liquor stacked against one wall, he arrived at a cramped, filthy office.
Reflexively, Oliver scanned the empty office.
A large window stood open, letting in cold outside air that scattered ledgers and papers messily across and under the desk.
Not only that, but the safe in the back was half-open, with some cash left inside.
If an ordinary person saw this, they'd assume someone had hastily grabbed money and fled.
And that wouldn't be a foolish conclusion.
It was a reasonable inference from the circumstances.
Oliver probably would've thought the same without his black mage's sight.
'Interesting.'
Oliver thought to himself without showing it.
Then he blinked, switching between normal vision and black mage sight, and spotted Associate Professor Huberton huddled silently in one corner.
Whether from magic or not, he was invisible to normal human eyes, but his emotions were plain in black mage sight.
It seemed like a stealth spell akin to Shade Cloak, but far superior in performance.
Shade Cloak required darkness, but Huberton was simply... gone.
That said, it wasn't entirely superior.
His mana, visible alongside his emotions and life force, was visibly depleting in real time.
Undoubtedly to maintain the invisibility spell.
Whether due to low mana reserves or the spell's heavy consumption, it wouldn't hold much longer.
Hence his growing tension and fear.
Oliver pondered briefly, then walked to the safe.
Tap- Tap-
The quarterstaff echoed against the floor with each step.
Oliver crouched down and examined the cash in the safe.
It was a hefty sum—not that he was uninterested.
He couldn't tell the exact amount, but he knew he'd need a lot of cash going forward, so more was always better.
However, what intrigued him as much as the money was Associate Professor Huberton's reaction from behind.
He could put him to sleep with Deep Sleep via the quarterstaff, but for reasons Oliver couldn't quite explain, he was probing the man.
Curious what reaction he'd get.
Why? Oliver wondered to himself.
Because he was the first mage he'd met since the lightning mage?
Or hoping to see that beautiful glow again?
With expectations he couldn't fully articulate, Oliver observed the professor.
As if rewarding him, a whirlwind of emotions flashed across Huberton: greed and restraint, fear and courage, wisdom and stubbornness. At last, he seemed resolved and approached quietly.
Swish-
True to his professor background, he had little combat experience.
His emotions sang cautious caution, but his footsteps gave him away completely.
Did his current spell lack sound muffling? Why not add it? No such spell? Or insufficient mana?
As Oliver mulled this, Huberton crept right up behind him.
Oliver tensed, wondering what attack the tower professor might unleash. Moments later, an unbelievable sound rang out.
Click-
Thwack!
The moment he heard the gun cock, Oliver whipped his quarterstaff backward, jabbing Huberton.
It wasn't a hard thrust, but the Deep Sleep enchantment did the work, and he collapsed instantly. Seeing it, Oliver's interest rapidly cooled.
What was it...? Not at all what he'd expected? He'd hoped for something more from a tower man.
Well, it didn't matter now.
Oliver checked the fallen target for injuries, then got to work.
First, he used his Glutton Pouch to scoop up the safe's cash. Though no one had ordered it, he also grabbed important-looking papers and scattered ledgers.
Then the potion bases he'd seen on the way in. The ones in reinforced glass jars like round cauldrons bore red seals.
"Oh... Glutton Pouch is full now?"
Oliver muttered and, with no choice, tucked two or three potions into his coat.
He wanted more, but it was too cumbersome. As he scanned for anything else, a signal came from the minions he'd scattered beforehand.
Oliver closed one eye to share their vision.
Some people had appeared—black mages, by the feel.
No overt hostility, but lingering longer seemed unwise, so he decided to move.
Oliver approached the fallen Huberton and cast Obedience.
The black magic to control the minds of revived zombies, animals, or living people.
As expected, Deep Sleep had lowered his resistance, making it easy. Oliver haphazardly grabbed a dropped hat, plopped it on him, and left the workshop.
Then headed in the opposite direction from the newcomers.
Keeping his eyes focused for potential ambushes, he was relieved to see they'd only picked up the fallen knucklers.
He checked their emotions too—they showed interest and glee at new opportunities rather than anger at the incident.
As if it wasn't such a bad turn.
Oliver kept observing them as he went, and before long, the sun rose as he exited X District.
Fortunately, no dreaded complications arose.
Honk! Honk!
A loud horn blared.
Oliver looked toward the sound and saw the taxi driver from last night, who had dropped him off, leaning out the window.
He furrowed his brow slightly with an awkward expression and said,
"Uh... I came as promised. But it looks like... you had quite the busy night?"
Only then did Oliver notice his dust-covered self.
"Ah, yes. A bit noisy and fun evening. Thank you for coming."
"No problem. Double the fare brought me here... Anyway, hop in. You and... your friend."
Oliver glanced at Huberton.
"Ah, yes... He's a friend."
"That's Huberton, alright. Boss."
Al said after confirming the Huberton Oliver had brought under control.
He didn't stop at just the face— he checked fingerprints and even drew blood, inserting it into some small device.
"......"
"It's an identity verification method based on blood magic. Cutting-edge stuff. Faces and prints can be altered, but blood doesn't lie."
"Blood magic?"
"Yeah, a new school from the life magic faction. I get it's unfamiliar. It's a very recent field. Officially born about 12 years ago, but it only gained notice in the last 2 or 3."
Forest was usually kind, but he seemed even more so now.
He soon explained why himself.
"Anyway, impressive work. I thought the chimera job was something, but to nail the mission in a single day again..."
"Thank you."
"Not praise—just stating facts. Oh, don't misunderstand. I didn't want you to fail or anything. I'm genuinely surprised."
"Is that so?"
"Of course. Fighter Crew is a new outfit, but they've already proven themselves. Even some Crime Firm affiliates deal with them, aside from unaffiliated gangs. Pure strength-based group. And you took down three of them. Incredible."
Oliver nodded silently. He wasn't sure how incredible, but he acknowledged their prowess.
He hadn't been injured, but it wasn't an overwhelming win either.
A hair's breadth, really.
If they'd handled black magic better and landed solid hits early, Oliver might've been the one finished.
Kant's words rang true: complacency invites death.
"The client is thrilled too, thanks to you. They bet money on the job but didn't expect it to resolve so smoothly."
"Glad to hear it."
"Naturally. Success always brings joy."
"...If it's not rude, may I ask a question?"
"Ask away. I have a gift for you anyway."
"A gift?"
"Yes. But first, my question: how many emotions do you have left? Not many, I bet."
Forest was half right.
The emotions he'd taken from Joseph's Family before leaving were down to half.
He'd used them sparingly, but from the beggar gang onward, it added up.
Plus, this mission burned more than expected. No regrets, though.
Emotions from Puppeteer Glyph kept his stock similar to the start.
After some thought, Oliver gave the answer Forest wanted.
"About half of what I started with."
"Time to restock, then."
"Yes, but it's tricky. The contract says not to extract emotions recklessly."
"True. From ordinary folk, specifically. Neither I nor the guild can protect you otherwise."
"That's why I considered pulling from enemies during missions."
"Mid-fight...? Bold. Could get you killed or hurt."
"Well... But why bring this up?"
"Want to introduce you to someone."
"Pardon? To what?"
"The Gray Market."