Chapter 82
Chapter 82
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Reunion (2)
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Thud. Thud.
Oliver headed toward the O'Tool Family's base with Jo and his crew in tow.
The O'Tool Family included not just their dozen or so members but also the raiders living under their protection, making it the size of a small village, or so he'd heard.
Yet there was no sign of life. Just as Jo had said, it looked like they'd been hit first.
"We planned to raid the O'Tool Family ourselves, same as you—to take their books and techniques. Their tech is pretty solid, after all."
Oliver nodded in agreement.
Modifying zombies was one thing, but handing over control to a third party required a high level of skill.
They did have some decent techniques.
"I see. So you hired these mercenaries?"
"Nah, officially they hired us, but we're basically partners. We hit black mage and raider groups—mercs take the cash and loot, we get the books and tools."
Oliver nodded.
It seemed like a solid deal, as long as they could trust each other.
In the contaminated zones, you needed someone watching your back. Oliver just hadn't found the right people yet.
"One thing I don't get, though."
"What's that?"
"You're specialized in disease magic, so why go after manipulation black magic? Planning to study it yourself?"
"...No, it's for my crew. Studying other fields isn't efficient anyway... unless you're some freak."
Jo finished and glanced at Oliver.
"Ah... For your crew?"
"Yeah, we've got a manipulation black mage in the crew. We help each other get stronger."
Ho... Oliver was impressed.
He'd only ever been in Joseph's Family as a black magic group, and this was pretty striking.
Families formed to learn black magic and grow stronger ironically didn't want members getting too powerful. Breaking that rule could get you killed.
But Fighter Crew helped each other grow.
He didn't know the details, but from what he'd heard, it seemed more productive than typical families.
"Thanks for the kind explanation."
"Don't thank me. I'm not teaching you out of the goodness of my heart."
"Pardon?"
"Right here."
Instead of answering, Jo pointed ahead.
At the end of his gesture lay a destroyed shantytown village. The barricades around it were smashed to pieces.
Scattered debris everywhere.
The damage didn't look like a simple zombie attack.
The building at the village center even had blast marks.
"Who's this guy?"
People camping in the ruins approached and asked.
About twenty mercenaries in tactical gear and armed with standard firearms, plus a black mage.
Jo spoke to his ally.
"Dave... Remember when I went down?"
"Oh... The guy who killed Nico and Big Jaw?!"
"Yeah, that's me. I'm truly sorry about that."
Whether Oliver's polite apology worked or not, the nameless black mage burst out laughing.
The other mercenaries started laughing too—until the black mage suddenly drew his gun and fired.
Bang!
The shot whizzed right past Oliver's head. The sudden gunshot froze the air into silence.
The jovial mood vanished, replaced by heavy quiet.
After a long pause, the nameless black mage spoke.
"Wow... Ballsy. Didn't even flinch... Not afraid to die, huh? That's why you killed our friends?"
"No, of course I'm scared of dying... I'm sorry about Nico and Big Jaw. Big Jaw would've killed me if I hadn't gotten him, and I messed up controlling my strength with Nico... Anyway, my apologies again."
The nameless black mage laughed in disbelief and pressed the gun barrel to Oliver's forehead.
"Can I put a bullet in your head and apologize too?"
Tension crackled in the air, and this time it felt real.
Oliver's politeness seemed to have rubbed him the wrong way.
He didn't get it, but Oliver scanned his surroundings.
The mercenaries were tensing up, ready to fight at the black mage's cue.
He had no desire for a pointless brawl here, but just then, Jo intervened.
He pushed down the black mage's gun barrel to calm him.
"Chill, Sam. I brought him as a guest."
"A guest? This bastard killed Nico and Big Jaw! Because of him, you, me, and the others are stuck suffering here."
Heh... Fighter Crew wasn't all that wholesome after all.
Jo's explanation had made them sound like they cooperated to grow, but Sam's words suggested they'd been dragged here against their will.
He wanted to ask about it, but Jo and Sam's conversation had turned too serious to interrupt.
"We need to team up with this guy."
"Ugh... Why?"
"Because he's strong enough to take me, Nico, and Big Jaw at once. You know something's off here, right?"
Sam hesitated, like he had a hunch.
Oliver seized the opening.
"What exactly is going on here?"
"...This cleanup's weird, different from usual. Really weird."
"In what way?"
"Zombies usually swarm as soon as fixers show up, but they're running this time. Or luring us, more like. And no raiders."
"Raiders?"
"Yeah, you normally spot one or two once you're deep in, but nothing now. No raiders, no other people. Just zombies. And..."
Jo paused.
"We hit two other black magic groups before this. Same state."
"Raided by someone?"
"Exactly. This isn't just more zombies. It's way more dangerous... That's why I brought you and explained nicely. Team up with us for now."
"Team up?"
"Yeah. Things are off, so stick with us?"
"Unexpected offer... You sure it's okay with me around?"
"You've got the skills... Not a bad deal for you either. Nice to have backup when danger's lurking. No ulterior motives, I swear."
It was sincere. Jo held no grudge despite any ill feelings—he wasn't planning harm. Not now, anyway.
"I trust you... But are you sure you want to travel with me?"
Jo fell silent, then replied.
"...Yeah, you don't strike me as the type to break promises."
Sincere again. Oliver pondered.
He'd normally refuse and move on, but two other black magic groups wiped out?
Plans were shot, and something felt very wrong.
"...If we snag black magic books along the way, how do we split them?"
"Dunno... We'll figure it out then, but fair split as much as possible."
Sincere.
Sam, who'd been listening, cut in.
He griped about deciding that solo, but Jo insisted prioritizing full strength given the weirdness.
Oliver mulled it over.
Backup crew plus shared books? Sounded decent.
As Oliver opened his mouth to reply, static crackled through the air.
He checked his communicator—no, it was Jo's.
"What?"
[Static...! Crap...! Send... backup...! Static... Zombies showing up... with weapons, guns...! Fuck...!]
Zombies. Weapons. Guns.
Oliver doubted his ears.
Zombies wielding weapons and shooting guns?
"Damn it...!"
Colin of the Mage Tower. Or more precisely, Colin Mallany of the Mjolnir small school, spat a curse.
He'd joined the Mjolnir school without hesitation, all to become a powerful mage.
A traditional school specializing elemental magic for combat.
Simple reason.
Power was the essence of a mage.
Lately, magitech, alchemy, life school, and golem tech were trendy thanks to industrialization, but that was just a fleeting fad riding the times.
To Colin, truth was power, and a mage's essence was power.
Mages had gone from persecuted to respected leaders thanks to that power.
True to Mjolnir teachings, Colin left society for the violent world outside and confirmed his beliefs.
The underbelly the tower's bookworms never saw.
He witnessed the violence lurking behind the facade of law and order.
Raw, living knowledge!
Beyond what tower nerds could grasp. Colin didn't stop at learning—he became part of it.
First gig: wiped a gang.
Second: took down a retired soldier fixer.
Third: slaughtered a black mage.
Fourth: beat street mages.
A few surprises gave him trouble, but talent and training pulled him through. In return, he shed the tower label for rising dark horse in B-Zone.
Not bad.
Having his skills recognized.
Clients with money and power approaching respectfully.
All of it thrilled Colin.
Sure, it landed him on annoying city cleanup duty, but just annoying—nothing he couldn't end anytime.
Or so it should have been...
"What the hell is this?!"
Colin yelled, firing a magic missile infused with fire magic.
Complex casting, but best power and efficiency. As expected, it hit a dozen zombies and exploded, incinerating everything.
Kieeeek—!
Kyahaha—!
Kuooooh—!
Weak to fire as zombies were, the pack was wiped out.
Without a proper black mage directing or buffs, that was standard. The problem was...
"Mage!"
A fixer with a reinforced shield rushed to Colin's side and threw up the barrier.
A hefty explosion followed.
The shield deployed, blocking it—zombies had lobbed a bomb through a gap.
Or was that the least of worries?
"Mage, you oka—"
Bang!
A zombie with a sniper rifle nailed the helper's head from afar.
Still fresh, not long dead, but mindless as it was, it sniped perfectly. And it was reloading for another shot.
[Magic Missile]
Colin blasted the zombie on the rooftop mid-reload.
Kyahahaha—!
—Clang!
"Mage...! We need to fall back."
A exhausted fixer said after nearly two hours of fighting.
Colin agreed.
Zombies... individually, nothing special.
Nothing special, but too damn many.
"Bear's Forearm!"
Druid David borrowed nature's power for monstrous strength, smashing a pack armed with clubs and guns.
Zombies with clubs and guns... What sick joke was this?
"Everyone, this way! Another horde incoming!"
At David's shout, they all rushed over.
This was bizarre.
Outskirts had manageable numbers, but suddenly hordes everywhere.
Like they were waiting.
"Shit...! They're already on our tail. Zombies!"
"Hold out a bit! I found a safe spot... Here!"
David's safe zone was a building deeper in the zone—high walls around, only one narrow path in, the one they'd come from.
Securing flanks, Colin regulated his breathing, gathered mana from the air.
Imbued will, input formula, formed a magic circle—then the pursuing horde appeared down the path.
Hundreds, by feel.
Even corpse golems from stitched zombies.
[Flame Thrower]
Chant complete, flames erupted from the aerial circle.
Scarlet fire mercilessly torched the front, turning them to ash instantly, spreading to any that touched it.
Like a plague.
The hundreds-strong horde crumbled to dust.
Barely escaped the armed horde's chase. Colin caught his breath, then approached someone—the fake mage who'd led them here.
"Hey, you... What the hell is this? Explain!"
Shevy the black mage whimpered in fear, looking even more pathetic.
"Ugh... I-I don't know. Been here over ten times, first like this... Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sniff..."
Astonishingly, he cried. Seeing that pitiful sight killed Colin's anger.
A fixer composed himself and interjected.
"Um... Mage. I agree it's weird. I've done three cleanups, never like this."
"You mean zombies shooting guns and throwing bombs?"
"Yes... First time. And way too many. I mean, always lots, but not this organized."
Colin tacitly agreed.
Natural zombies were just evil, mindless life-seekers.
Organized tactics? Impossible.
Only one explanation.
Black mage.
Not just Colin—fixers and Druid thought the same. He felt absurd rage.
A mage like him hunted by a fake?
"...Probably manipulation type."
"Pardon?"
"If there's a mastermind, it's manipulation. Only they control zombies like that. Annoying bastards."
True enough. Manipulation black mages hid safe, sending zombies to do their dirty work.
Cowards.
"Th-this isn't just cleanup. Systematic zombie control means a group, not solo—not average ones. Could be devil worshippers... We report to the city and come back with troops."
"Makes sense, but how? Hordes everywhere. Some fixers already down."
"Rest here, then move—"
"—No time."
Druid David said, hand to the ground.
Sensing via earth's voice, his face darkened sharply.
"Hordes coming again... Lots. Not just zombies—corpse golems, contaminated beasts too... Damn, we're lured. Rats in a trap."
The fatigued, fearful fixers stirred.
Colin was just as stumped.
Mana needed recovery time; they'd burn out first at this rate.
No escape...
...Creak.
A door sound drew eyes. Shevy, skulking by a wall, had opened an old hidden door.
"...How about we flee down here for now?"