Chapter 91
Chapter 91
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: A Welcome Face (2)
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The appearance of Holy Knight Elton and Joanna stirred open irritation in the city official.
For some unknown reason, he clearly harbored no fondness for Holy Knights, yet he still rose from his seat out of formality.
"...Pleased to meet you. I'm Paul Carver from the Randa Interior Ministry. It's a true honor to meet the Holy Knights, guardians of humanity."
The city official—no, Paul Carver—spoke with natural falsehood. In kind, Holy Knight Elton responded with his own polite fiction.
"The feeling is mutual."
"If I may ask out of curiosity, with the city guard stationed outside, how exactly did you get in?"
At the question, Elton slipped a hand beneath his steel coat and produced a single sheet of paper.
It was whiter than a cloud, almost as if it emitted light.
"We've entered lawfully under the provisions of the City Accord. You've done fine work up to now. From here on, we'll handle the interrogation of this black mage. You're free to go."
The man named Elton spoke in a stiff, coercive tone befitting his stern features.
Paul, however, refused to yield.
"I think there might be some misunderstanding. We're not interrogating him. We were merely conducting an investigation. This... individual is no criminal—he's a city worker affiliated with the Fixer Guild."
At the unexpected words, Oliver glanced at Paul.
He felt no particular goodwill toward Oliver; rather, it seemed his primary motive was resentment toward the Holy Knights.
Holy Knight Elton replied.
"We know. But that's merely unofficial. With a Puppet involved and the subject a black mage, whether it's an investigation or an interrogation is for us to decide. Apologies, but please step aside."
"We must cooperate per the City Accord, that's true. But we're already in the midst of our investigation, so if you could just wait a moment..."
"Afraid we can't do that."
"This isn't a request. The Accord doesn't require us to hand over subjects already under investigation. My apologies, Knight. This is Randa."
"Are you interfering with Holy Knight duties right now?"
"I'm just doing my job, Knight. Same as you."
The air grew taut.
For whatever reason, the city official and the Holy Knight clearly despised each other, creating a tension that felt ready to snap at any moment.
Oliver watched the scene with keen interest. Why were they acting like this?
As the tension slowly mounted toward a breaking point, a woman pushed open the door and entered.
Dressed in a suit with her hair cropped sharply and neatly, Oliver instinctively recognized her as another city official like Paul.
The vibe was unmistakable.
She approached Paul and whispered in his ear.
Oliver couldn't quite catch what she said, but a flash of annoyance crossed Paul's face before he smoothed his expression, seemingly accepting it.
"...It seems I've made a mistake. With the disturbance in the contaminated zone, I let my emotions get the better of me. My apologies, Knights."
"...No harm done. Diligence in one's duties is a virtue bestowed by the Father above on humanity."
"Yes... Then, we'll take our leave, Knights... Dave?"
"Yes?"
"Cooperate fully with the Knights' investigation."
"Ah, yes. It was a pleasure meeting you, Official Paul."
Oliver replied calmly.
Once the city official Paul departed, the two Holy Knights remained in the room.
With him gone, the tension evaporated rapidly—only to be replaced by open hostility and malice toward the black mage.
It was blatant, even without focusing on their eyes.
"Name."
The Holy Knight called Elton asked as he took a seat.
Middle-aged in appearance, he sported thick hair and a beard, his features chiseled like marble sculpture.
His emotions matched: rigid and inflexible.
Oliver observed him coolly before answering.
"Dave. I'm a fixer in Sector T."
Flip, flip.
Elton skimmed through a file as he spoke.
"Your broker?"
"Forest in Street 27."
Flip, flip. The file turned again.
"Under what circumstances did you contract with him?"
"......"
Oliver didn't answer right away, instead studying Elton.
His thick mane and beard gave him a lion-like look as he glared at Oliver like prey, waiting to pounce on any weakness.
Ah, perhaps it was inevitable? Holy Knights existed to hunt black mages, after all.
'Or was it demons?'
Either way, it was a shame.
Holy Knights automatically treating black mages as enemies felt unjust somehow.
It would be nice if they could at least converse without the hostility.
Then he could chat with Joanna, sitting beside Elton, about this and that.
Unconsciously, Oliver glanced at Joanna beside Elton.
"Hey, you gonna answer or not?"
At Elton's anger-laced words, Oliver asked cautiously.
"Sorry, but do I have to answer? It's a bit personal."
Elton clasped his hands, leaning his upper body forward slightly.
"You don't have to. But if you don't, we can arrest you under the City Accord and drag you off."
"...You can do that?"
"Of course. You're a black mage. Filth that corrupts society. A potential threat to the human realm... If not for the Accord, scum like you—"
Elton cut himself off, muttering lowly with evident frustration.
His words rang true regardless, so Oliver explained as instructed. Getting hauled off sounded unpleasant, after all.
"I see... Very well, I'll answer. I was introduced."
"Introduced? By whom?"
"A fixer who'd worked with Forest before. He recommended me, and thanks to that, contracting with Forest went smoothly."
"Who was this fixer? How'd you meet?"
Oliver hesitated on whether to answer.
He didn't want to put Kant in a tough spot... But regardless, it seemed he had to reply.
Elton wasn't asking out of mere curiosity—he was verifying. Somehow, he already knew everything, and if Oliver lied, he'd pounce on it.
"Not answering?"
"Kant."
"Kant?"
"Yes. The first person I met when I came aboveground."
Oliver lied.
It wasn't a hasty fabrication but a rehearsed one aligned with Kant: he'd been sold by his master to a basement, spending his life training without ever seeing sunlight.
Kant had suggested it as fitting, and Oliver agreed.
Fortunately, it landed—the Holy Knight showed no suspicion.
'Are there really that many like that?'
"Where were you before being sold?"
"In a mine."
"Which mine?"
"I don't know. Just a mine."
"Any distinguishing features?"
Features...
"Dark. Deep. Lots of kids. The overseer whipped us plenty. If I may ask, why do you want to know?"
"I ask the questions. Black mage... So you encountered the Puppet alone, in the end?"
"Yes."
"What possessed you? A black mage shouldn't know much about the Puppet's notoriety."
Suspicion burned fiercely in Elton's eyes.
Oliver gave the same answer he'd told Paul.
"It was my only shot at survival."
"So you went alone against the infamous Puppet?"
"I didn't go alone. I went with other comrades."
"Yeah, we know. One retired soldier fixer, two black mages hired by the Goodman mercenaries. We've investigated it all. We know you were the only one who actually met the Puppet... What did you do when you met him?"
"We talked, fought, I lost, and he let me go."
"Let you go?"
"Yes. Said I'd had enough already. And that I was amusing."
"Amusing? How?"
"Who knows? We exchanged a few words during our chat—must've caught his fancy."
"...What did you talk about?"
"This and that. He spoke about his research."
"What research?"
"Making people... More precisely, resurrecting them."
"Resurrecting people?"
"Yes. At least, that's what he claimed."
Elton looked skeptical but pulled a notebook from his pocket and began jotting notes.
The soft scratch of pen on paper filled the quiet room. Midway, Elton asked.
"Odd, though. Why would the Puppet tell you all that?"
"Beats me? I asked, and he answered."
"Just because you asked?"
"Yes. He seemed quite courteous."
Courteous. At the word, Elton's face hardened severely.
He showed outright disgust, as if dealing with someone utterly beneath him.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"Well... Learning black magic in the first place was your mistake. Do you know of the Puppet's infamy?"
"Somewhat... Rumors say he's lived for centuries without dying. Involved in drugs, mercenaries, illegal medicine, devil worship—activities across the board."
"Correct. And beyond that, he's roamed the world conducting countless human experiments. I've seen those horrific experiments and their victims. Once, he seized a small rural village and brutally used dozens of families there as guinea pigs. Like some beast."
"I see."
Elton's face grew uglier at Oliver's calm reply.
Oliver couldn't fathom it. What was his grievance?
They openly admitted to secret human experiments in the F Sector labs.
Did Holy Knights not know? Or was it fine if mages did it?
People's emotions still baffled him.
Sensitive in one situation, oblivious in another.
What to call it? Capricious, inconsistent, erratic.
Well, that's what made it interesting.
"That's why we Holy Knights pursue the Puppet. His mere existence endangers the innocent. We've felled him several times, only for him to reappear mockingly each time... Eradicating him to make the world safe is one of my goals."
"I see."
"Which makes this all the stranger... The Puppet showing mercy."
"Earlier, I—"
"—I don't buy it. Especially sharing his goals. Highly suspicious."
Elton said, eyes flashing.
He looked ready to pummel Oliver if he could.
"Can you prove you're not connected to the Puppet?"
"Prove it?"
"Yes. Prove you have no ties to him."
Oliver tried thinking logically.
"...Can I prove a negative?"
"If not, we'll have to interrogate you more thoroughly."
It was a bluff. His intent was genuine, but he couldn't torture Oliver here.
Thus, he pressured verbally, hoping Oliver would slip up.
"I can only say I have no connection."
"Is that so? Then answer this: Black mages will do anything to grow stronger, no? The Puppet didn't make any offers?"
"No, none. Though long ago, another black mage did."
"Oh? What kind?"
"Said to join Black Hand with him—hand over beggar kids and women. Promised rapid power growth."
"What'd you say?"
"Regretfully, I declined. Black Hand might make learning black magic easier, but... it felt off."
"...Off how?"
"Having to offer up kids and women."
"...A black mage refused a chance to join Black Hand because he didn't want to sacrifice beggars?"
"Yes, even beggars felt wrong... Does it make a difference to you, Knight? Beggars or not?"
Bam—!
Elton slammed his fist on the table without warning.
Even without holy enhancement, the table split in two. For emotionless Oliver, this man charging meant certain death if he attacked.
He hated pain, after all.
But thankfully, no such tragedy unfolded.
Joanna calmed Elton with a whisper, and he quickly regained composure.
What had she said?
Such a shame. In his current guise, he couldn't casually speak or ask.
Truly regrettable.
'I want to thank her—even say her advice helped me venture out and enjoy this fun world... Ah, what a pity.'
Elton sat back down and asked again.
"In short, no connection to the Puppet whatsoever?"
"Yes. None."
Elton glared at Oliver a moment longer before rising and leaving.
He too looked immensely disappointed.
Afterward, Oliver spent a few hours in the room before being released.
The city officials and Holy Knights had been quite serious, so he'd braced for trouble—but it turned out fine.
He wanted more varied experiences, but not this kind of commotion yet.
He could always abandon his identity if needed, but with all he'd built, he'd prefer to avoid that.
For instance, he'd met Joanna today but couldn't even greet her?
What a shame.
"Here's your impounded belongings."
A woman behind the reinforced glass counter handed over a bundle of items.
Oliver's possessions weren't anything special.
Empty used test tubes, a wallet-sized glutton pouch, and a leather case with another glutton pouch—that was it.
The woman said.
"Carry illegal items like glutton pouches discreetly. We're letting it slide this time due to circumstances, but if caught otherwise, we'll have to make a show of it—troublesome for both sides."
"Ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the kind advice."
The woman looked at Oliver with faint surprise, as if caught off guard.
Oliver asked.
"One question, if I may?"
"What?"
"Where's the quarterstaff?"
"Quarterstaff?"
"Yes, wooden staff. Bandages wrapped around the middle."
"Important?"
The voice came from behind him.
Oliver replied.
"Yes, very. It was a gift... Knight Joanna?"
Oliver turned to see Joanna holding Kant's quarterstaff.
"You know my name?"
"...Didn't you see earlier? In the room."
"I never gave it."
"Ah... You didn't?"
"No. I didn't."
Joanna stated firmly.
Ah... This was awkward. He'd blurted it out in fluster.
Should he say she just looked like a Joanna? No, that'd seem more suspicious—he dropped it.
In the end, Oliver shifted the topic.
"Anyway, that's my item, Knight."
"I know. That's why I borrowed it briefly. To check for evil enchantments."
"I see... Find anything?"
"No, it was clean... Mind a quick chat? Oliver."