Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: Child, Corpse Doll (1)
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"This is... awkward as hell, even though it's nice to see you."
The parking lot was packed tight with countless trucks. Arthur, whom they ran into there, spoke up.
"Hello, Mr. Arthur. Nice to meet you."
Oliver greeted him politely and glanced around.
Around the parking lot, aside from the trucks, there were burly truck drivers everywhere, each gripping bats or blackjacks.
They looked like they'd hurt like hell if they connected. No wonder the Hoffman Family hadn't rushed in to suppress them.
The noisy murmurs grew louder.
Arthur spoke again.
"First time since the contaminated zone, right? ...You working for the Hoffmans?"
"Technically, I'm hired by Mr. Murphy. Did you get a new prosthetic arm?"
Oliver pointed at the new golem arm.
It looked stronger than the last one he'd seen—the flow of mana made that clear.
"Yeah, unfortunately. Piled on more debt... But the real pity is running into you now. Did that punk Jimmy send you to teach us a lesson?"
"No, I'm—"
"Hold on. That's not it."
Murphy cut in.
He seized the moment like a fox and clung like a wolf.
"We're here to negotiate. So put down those weapons and let's talk. We're all Landa folk, aren't we?"
"Talks are fucking over since dinner... If you wanted to chat, you shouldn't have broken Huff's arm."
Someone shouted, and yeahs erupted from all around.
Oliver asked Jimmy's underling, Frank.
"Who's Huff?"
"...One of the warehouse staff. Got mouthy with the boss and his arm got busted."
"Ah..."
He could sort of understand their anger now, but the mood was anything but conversational.
Just as it seemed like it might end there, Arthur stepped in.
"Come on, everyone... Let's cool it and talk this out."
"Huh? What'd you just say, Arthur? You forget what these bastards did?!"
"Yeah, no talks till they accept our terms!"
"They say negotiate, but they'll just spew bullshit like last time. Why go along with it?"
But Arthur stayed calm. He pointed at Oliver.
"That guy wasn't around back then... I'm here to help, not risk my neck fighting."
Then a young man about Arthur's size approached. He had that unmistakable aura of someone who lived by violence.
"Looks like a rookie. Why act like a coward? Disappointing."
Coward. That word hit Arthur.
"Listen up, you little shit. While you were posing with your arms crossed at the union, I was in the New World killing natives and using their corpses for boxing practice. Then I got sent to the Eastern Company, planted a flag your dick-sized up the top of some unknown kingdom. Say 'coward' one more time, and I'll rip that smart mouth off your face. Don't rely on your uncle to act tough. Got it?"
Arthur's easygoing demeanor turned into a low growl, and the young man—along with the other fixers and drivers—deflated.
Silence fell. Arthur stepped forward slowly and spoke to Oliver.
"Hey, Dave."
"Yes, Mr. Arthur."
"I just saved your face. One favor: they'll listen, but if it's ridiculous, we'll say no. Promise you won't kick up a fuss and just leave. Can you do that?"
"Of course. Never planned to harm anyone here from the start. Just here as bodyguards."
"Good. Follow me. I'll show you in."
Arthur led them to a makeshift building in one corner of the lot—a literal shack of plywood that served as an office.
It was so cramped that three people inside made breathing tough. Yet five squeezed in.
Murphy, Jimmy Hoffman's negotiator, and his watcher Frank. Oliver for protection.
And on the drivers' side, rep Denny and his guard Arthur.
They were close enough to hear each other's breaths.
"Nice to meet you."
"You too."
Murphy and Denny exchanged greetings first, then the others followed.
Polite on the surface, but everyone was busy reading intentions—like combat, just without fists.
The drivers' rep Denny threw the first punch.
"Let's cut the crap. What're you negotiating? Sorry, but we already stated our terms."
"I know. Double compensation for drivers killed on delivery. And wage improvements after, right?"
"A few minor ones too, but those two are the biggies."
Frank jumped in then.
He was sweating bullets, gesturing frantically, his nerves plain.
"Look, Denny. That's insane. Double? Fifty-five percent, maybe."
Tensions rose in the tight space.
Frank argued the standard was employer skims thirty-five percent of insurance. Denny called it a scam and demanded double as victim payback.
Voices escalated; no agreement in sight. Then Murphy intervened.
"Everyone calm down... Let's find common ground."
"Common ground?"
"Yeah, common ground."
"You're new here. Listen: that's ancient history. When Jimmy skimmed over half our insurance and broke Huff's arm... Said premiums come from our wages too."
"Won't you lose out not working? Living costs hit next week, right?"
He nailed it; Denny hesitated.
Forrest had said Landa workers lived week-to-week.
Miss one paycheck, and you're out food, home, everything. They danced on death's edge weekly like mayflies.
Murphy pressed.
"What about next week's rent and bills? Gotta feed the kids, no?"
"Tighten belts—"
"—and starve. Assuming Jimmy leaves you be till then."
"Threatening us? Fuck off! The union's got our backs!!"
"Even if they do, you'll bleed... You really think they care? They're pinkertons at heart, same as Pinman. One thing life's taught me: only look out for yourself. They pretend now, but bail at risk or bigger bucks... Accept Jimmy's offer. Sixty-five percent comp, five percent daily raise. Generous—especially here. Won't satisfy fully, so I'll sweeten it."
"...How?"
Murphy pulled a silver cigarette case, lit one, offered Denny another.
"......"
"Expensive stuff. Try one."
Denny hesitated, took it. Murphy lit it and continued.
"Once this blows over, Hoffman and Kinbell Families partner up. Distribute magic brew nationwide. Tried it?"
"...Yeah. Pretty good."
"Thanks. I believe in my product. No cheap crap for extra coin—that's for small-timers. Quality stuff everyone craves... Massive cash incoming."
Murphy rubbed thumb and finger. Everyone but Oliver was hooked.
"But need distribution too. You're top drivers, so incentives based on weekly brew deliveries."
"Incentives?"
"Yeah. Jimmy and I split four-six; mine covers it. Scale up, insurance'll be pocket change."
"...Serious?"
"Why else do this? No ties to you, but I'm ex-soldier too. Stake my honor: no lies... You tried it—does this biz fail or fly?"
It landed. Their pondering silence proved it. But Denny wavered.
"Hold on... Gotta check with the union."
"No time. Barely convinced Jimmy... Union'll say no to sweet talk—can't profit if we settle private."
"...We're stuck. Deal with you, union drops us. What if you renege? Need a safety net."
"Think I'll lie?"
"Not just you—Jimmy too. We know his type; revenge sure."
"I'll handle that. Partners' safety and gains first."
"Sorry, we know your world. Crime Firm ties limit you if Jimmy pushes."
Murphy started to retort but shut up.
He could block Jimmy, but couldn't voice it. Stalemate again.
Frustration gleamed on faces; talks seemed doomed.
That meant warehouse trashed too.
'Got ID and warehouse already. Murphy seems confident on Jimmy... Hm.'
Oliver raised a hand quietly.
"Um... What if I help then?"
All eyes on him.
"Sorry to interrupt. But I can cover that part."
"...Who's this?"
"Dave. Fixer making waves in T District."
Arthur whispered to Denny.
"Help how?"
"If Murphy or Jimmy break word and retaliate, I'll help free. Once or twice?"
"........."
Silence as they stared. Expressions awkward as a clown at a funeral.
Murphy tugged Oliver's sleeve, whispering.
"Black Wizard. What're you doing?"
"Talks stalled, so helping. You plan to keep promises?"
"...Yeah."
"Then fine... Or stop?"
Murphy scanned around, then:
"No. Keep going."
Denny said:
"Serious?"
"Yes. Issue?"
"Big one... Arthur vouches, but I don't know you. Black wizard rubs wrong... Hey, let go! Nearly died to one scavenging trench corpses. Rat plague—everyone rotted grotesque! After that, trust a black wizard?!"
Fair point.
Trust boiled down to money or time known.
Stranger like Oliver? Zero pull.
Oliver pondered persuasion.
"Hm... Formal contract via broker?"
"Huh?"
"My handler. Contract through them. Breach means they suffer too—gives me reason to honor it. Thoughts?"
Silence. Confused faces.
"...Serious?"
"Yeah. Gains here too; wanna wrap smooth."
"Still, skills—"
"I vouch his skills."
"Arthur, trust you, but survival on line—can't go on word alone."
Inspiration hit Oliver.
"Prove skills by dropping raiders hitting trucks? Gotta solve anyway. Bundle it—eases everyone. Come watch, Denny. See for yourself."
They gawked at his rambling.
"...Arthur, he always like this?"
"Didn't know this side... Dave, sorry, that's tricky."
"Why?"
"Raiders skilled, elusive. Twelve drivers down... Bluntly, he's family man. Can't send to death."
"Ah... Can't I protect?"
"No, fuck, not that... Solo? Numbers short. Need three-four trucks to lure; can't drive all."
"...Learn, drive one?"
"Disaster. Words bounce off... Other three?"
"Murphy, Arthur, Denny drive—perfect."
"Me?"
"Fuck, I'll drive."
"He's legit?"
It dragged, mismatched but progressing. Arthur pushed desperately.
"Sigh... God give patience... Fine, driving aside—need fighters. Four pros minimum. From Hoffmans?"
"I can provide."
Oliver said casually, then herded them out before rebuttals.
"Follow a sec?"
"Why outside?"
"Too tight to show."
Oliver pulled a massive Eater pouch from his leather case.
Folded thick like dough, it swelled. No resistance here—Denny and Frank backed away scared.
The plump pouch rolled eyes at Oliver.
"Eater pouch. Spit it out?"
Grudgingly, it shoved hand in mouth.
Belly rumbled, then vomited.
Guh-e-e-eek—!
Guh-e-e-e-eek—!
Guh-e-e-e-e-eek—!
Guh-e-e-e-e-e-eek—!
Four corpse dolls emerged.
All recoiled. Arthur muttered, realizing.
"Th-this?"
"Grabbed some post-contaminated cleanup. Fixed broken ones, jury-rigged parts—my skills amateur, so looks rough. Bear with."
"Saved these then?"
"Yeah, too wasteful not to."
With that, Oliver drew four vials from his bosom.
Labeled: First, Second, Third, Fourth.
"These?"
"Made imitating."
"What?"
Oliver skipped answer, uncorked.
"Come out, Child."
A minion-like but distinct Child emerged.
Tense at the weird sight, but Oliver ordered casually.
Instantly, Child approached a doll's head, slipped into pre-made hole.
The doll's eyes flickered with life-like glow.
Screech...
Screech...
Squeak...
Squeak...
Crack...
Crack...
The corpse dolls stirred alive.
Oliver said:
"One per doll. That work?"
Silence from all.