Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Puppet (2)
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"Anyone want to come with me to fight Puppet?"
His question left everyone wearing expressions of shock.
It was the look of someone witnessing a pup charging at a tiger.
Ah, and that might be the perfect description.
Compared to Puppet, Oliver—a mere fixer—was nothing more than a pup.
He recalled what Cant had once told him about Puppet.
The immortal Puppet.
One of the top black mages and a key executive in the Black Hand.
A being whose age was impossible to gauge, with a lifespan said to exceed that of an entire nation.
Because of this, Puppet was involved in everything from drugs and weapons to mercenaries and illegal medicine, with connections to high-ranking officials in every country.
Of course, these were all unsubstantiated rumors, dismissed by many as half-truths, but regardless, Oliver had just challenged such a figure to a duel.
"Y-you... are you insane...?"
One fixer stammered, his face a mix of terror and despair.
"Pardon? What...?"
"Who the hell gave you the right to make a bet like that...? The opponent's Puppet! We're all dead meat now!"
Oliver stared at the man before responding.
"...You must not have heard, but Puppet planned to kill us all anyway. He was just sowing discord to divide and conquer us one by one."
"...B-but that's not certain!"
"No, it is. He had no intention of letting us go."
Oliver's calm, composed words left the terrified man speechless, as well as the other fixers.
Oliver checked the flask tucked in his coat and spoke up.
"If my actions upset you, I apologize. But if I'd stayed quiet, Puppet would have incited us to fight among ourselves, and we'd have wasted energy killing each other for nothing. So I took the initiative—please understand... I don't want to fight you all, let alone kill any of you."
Whether his persuasion worked or not, no one complained further.
Though their true feelings were another matter.
It seemed no one would join him after all, but Oliver didn't mind. He planned to go alone anyway.
Just as he was about to move out, Knuckle Jo called to him.
"Hey..."
"...? Yes, Jo."
"Stop with the 'ssi' honorific. Just call me Jo... It's embarrassing."
"Ah... Got it. Is that why you called me?"
Sam grabbed Jo's shoulder, but Jo brushed it off and continued.
"You... You're really planning to go fight Puppet?"
"Yes, I made a promise. ...If I back out, he'll send the zombies our way right now."
"...And if you win, he'll let us go? That's true?"
"Yes. That much was sincere. At least when he said it. Didn't you see?"
"No, I couldn't tell at my level. Only you saw it. You confident you'll win?"
Oliver paused at the question.
"Hmm... Hard to say. I've never faced his type before, so I can't give a definite answer."
"His type?"
"Yeah, most people care about winning or losing, but Puppet doesn't seem to. He's interested in something else. I don't know what exactly."
Someone muttered then.
"Come to think of it, I heard Puppet's obsessed with immortality. Rumor has it."
"Immortality?"
At Oliver's question, the mutterer replied cautiously.
"J-just a rumor..."
Immortality... Not impossible.
Joseph's books mentioned plenty of people fixated on that pursuit.
Even non-black mages researched or invested in it, according to old texts.
Of course, no one had ever succeeded.
But something about it felt off for mere immortality.
Like scattered puzzle pieces refusing to fit.
Jo spoke up again.
"Sorry to interrupt, but answer my question first. Can you win or not? ...If you can't, we could subdue you and negotiate with Puppet instead."
At Jo's words, his fellow fixers and mercenaries tensed, ready to act.
He was half-serious.
"Who knows... I can't say if I'll win, but I'll fight to win. Obviously—I don't want to die either."
"...Alright? Fine, then I'll come with you."
"Pardon?"
"I said I'll come too."
Jo declared boldly.
***
To keep his promise, Oliver headed down the basement passage where the scouting team had entered.
Joining him were Knuckle Jo from Fighter Crew, Dual-Pistol Sam, and fixer Iron Fist Arthur.
Jo had volunteered, Sam couldn't let Jo go alone, but Arthur's reason was unclear.
When asked, he replied.
"Reason? What reason? Better to stick with a real man who fights than guys trying to sell me out."
"Ah..."
Oliver let out an exclamation. Yeah, staying back must feel uneasy.
They'd fallen for Puppet's temptation, if only briefly.
Though it wasn't entirely their fault.
What was it about Puppet's words? They shook people to the core.
Probing weaknesses with precision.
"Um... Mind if I ask something I'm curious about?"
Dual-Pistol Sam, guns at the ready, cut in.
"Sure, go ahead."
Sam stared at Oliver.
"Sigh... Got a ton of questions, but I'll start with the big one. How'd you know?"
"Know what?"
"Puppet. That he's a corpse puppet... I couldn't tell, and I've got good eyes."
"......"
Oliver hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Puppet's corpse puppet was expertly crafted, no doubt.
It looked alive at a glance, movements perfectly synced.
But Oliver could spot it with minimal focus.
The difference between casual and intent observation.
Still, he couldn't say that outright.
Sam wouldn't buy it in his current state.
So he padded the truth.
"I once met someone claiming to be Puppet's disciple."
"Disciple?"
"Yeah, a puppeteer named Glyph. He pretended to be human using a corpse puppet, so I knew what to look for."
"...How'd you run into him?"
"Stayed somewhere, and we clashed over differing views."
"...You won?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Let me ask again. You beat Puppet's disciple?"
"Yeah... Got lucky."
Sam, Jo, and Arthur looked stunned.
Oliver couldn't fathom why.
"So... You must have a solid plan to take down Puppet too? Mind sharing since we're here?"
"No real plan. Just meet him head-on and beat him. Once he's down, the zombies outside should collapse."
Not the answer they wanted—Jo, Sam, and Arthur's faces soured.
But they couldn't argue.
No one had better ideas.
Arthur broke the silence.
"...Not impossible. Black mages like him are weak in close combat."
All eyes turned to him.
"You know something?"
"Not really, but I've encountered a few on battlefields. Black mages."
"Black mages? As mercenaries?"
"Some were mercs, others scavenged corpses... Scavenging's one thing, but some tried kidnapping the living."
"You fought them?"
"Yeah... Snatched one of my squadmates. Not a fun memory. We'll probably dodge traps this time too... Why'd you two tag along?"
Arthur suddenly asked Jo and Sam.
"What're you getting at?"
"I was singled out with this guy, but you two? Especially Knuckle Boy."
Arthur pointed at Jo.
Sam bristled and replied.
"What's that supposed to mean? Like we've got ulterior motives?"
"Who knows... Rumors say Puppet's got tons of disciples. So, yeah?"
Sam grinned unpleasantly, gripping his pistols tighter, but Jo grabbed his hand to calm him and spoke.
"Relax. Nothing like that."
"Sure?"
"Yeah, unfortunately, I never found a great master like Puppet. I'm just risking it to survive. Experience says staying put is riskiest."
Half-truth.
Sam added,
"Plus, surviving a fight with Puppet boosts our rep."
The tension eased.
Looking closer, the squabble was pointless.
They were all anxious, though none admitted it.
They'd been in the basement a while, yet nothing.
Puppet had accepted—should appear soon—but no sign.
Worried he'd reneged, but with no options, Oliver changed the subject.
Silence bred more unease.
"Hmm... This basement's better maintained than expected."
Oliver glanced around.
The space was neatly finished with cement and bricks.
Someone said,
"The old street owners built it. Mages. Spared no expense."
Unfamiliar voice.
Everyone whipped around, startled.
A man stood there, saber at his hip.
'Puppet... How?'
Oliver thought, caught off-guard.
He'd been scanning intently—no detection.
Before Oliver recovered, Arthur, Jo, and Sam lunged.
Arthur channeled mana into his golem prosthetic and punched at the sudden intruder.
The stone-and-mana fist rocketed like a cannon, a massive boulder in flight.
Yet Puppet sliced it in half with one saber swing.
Arthur gaped at the flying arm.
"That thing can smash corpse golems barehanded...!!"
"Ah... Hurts a bit hearing my B-rank work compared to a corpse golem. Anyway, calm down. I'm here to talk—"
"—Fuck that."
Sam raised both pistols.
Bullets infused with black magic hurtled toward Puppet.
Exotic spells woven in—Oliver marveled at the creativity.
But Puppet's evasion and counters were unreal.
Nothing like Chevy; corpse puppets clearly altered combat power and style entirely.
Click. Click.
Sam reloaded as bullets ran dry.
Puppet dropped low, closing in instantly.
"Think you'll listen after I kill one?"
"Sure. After you die."
Knuckle Jo wedged between his ally and Puppet.
Black magic hardened his body; sharper than his fight with Oliver, he struck.
But Puppet was sharper.
Acrobatic dodges evaded punches and a low kick, then saber slashed.
Shing— Crack!
Just before Jo's neck parted, black-suited Oliver blocked the blade with his quarterstaff.
The emotion-laced edge nearly cleaved the staff outright.
"Ah... Still don't wanna kill you."
"Me neither."
Oliver swung the quarterstaff with force.
Puppet retreated skillfully.
His movements utterly unlike Chevy's.
Just swapping puppets did that? Questions aside, Oliver targeted him with Hate Bullet.
Puppet parried with his saber, analyzing.
"Mixing manipulation and disease with firearms too... What are you?"
Crack—!
Oliver closed distance, swinging.
"Amazing. I've got questions for you too, Puppet. How'd you erase your presence? Change styles like that? Where's your real body?"
"Real body?"
Puppet chuckled.
"Mutual curiosity, huh? How about a chat?"
"Sure."
Oliver bashed the saber, then thrust.
Puppet parried expertly—but that sufficed.
Wrath Boom
[Quarterstaff detonation / Area burst / Cooldown active]
The Wrath Boom at the quarterstaff's tip exploded, shredding one side of Puppet's corpse puppet.
Skin, flesh, bones, springs scattered—yet Puppet remained nonchalant, like with Chevy.
"Ah, lost two corpse puppets in a day before, but to the same guy? First time in ages."
Oliver pointed his quarterstaff at Puppet.
"So, shall we talk now?"
"Eh, not here. Deeper in? Better spot."
Puppet placed a hand on the floor.
Infused emotion raced through cracks; the ground felt buoyant.
The floor was collapsing.
"Haven't had a fun one like you in forever."
With that, Oliver plummeted alongside Puppet.