Chapter 27: A New Master (1)
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
When Oliver returned to the Sausage Factory, everyone came out to welcome him.
However, that was short-lived. The moment they saw Oliver, silence fell over the crowd.
Well, perhaps it was to be expected.
After all, Oliver had walked all the way from Landa to Wineham, and his appearance was a mess.
His face and hands were blackened with dirt and grime, and his clothes, soaked with sweat and dust, were no better than rags.
Although his shoes, being sturdy, were only slightly worn out, Oliver’s overall look wasn’t much different from that of a beggar.
After a long moment of silence, someone finally spoke up.
"O-Oliver-nim? What in the world...?"
"I didn’t know how else to get here from Landa... so I just walked. It was a straight path, so I didn’t get lost."
His answer was so natural that no one could bring themselves to ask any further questions.
For example, no one asked why he had come back alone, without Joseph and Andrew...
Instinctively, everyone sensed that something was amiss. At that moment, Mari stepped forward and spoke.
"Um, first... wouldn’t it be better to wash up, Oliver-nim?"
"Ah... that sounds like a good idea."
Oliver touched his face and the back of his hand as he spoke. After walking for several days and nights, his condition was indeed terrible.
Even someone as oblivious as Oliver could see it.
Following Mari's guidance, Oliver headed toward the shower room, but along the way, he stopped and addressed the senior, intermediate, junior, and temporary disciples.
"Oh, right. I’m sorry, but is everyone busy?"
The disciples exchanged glances before one of them answered.
"Uh, n-no... not really."
"Then, I’ll wash up quickly. Could everyone gather? No one should be missing. Is there a quiet place where we could all meet?"
"I think the workshop would be best."
"Ah, then could everyone please gather in the workshop, as Mari suggested? I’d appreciate it."
Leaving those words behind, Oliver left.
No one dared to argue.
...
Just as Oliver had requested, not only the official disciples but also the temporary disciples gathered in the workshop.
While Joseph was absent, Oliver was the master of the family. Still, there was an undeniable feeling of unease.
After all, it had been a while since he left to meet Joseph, and now he had returned...
No, that wasn’t the real issue. The real problem was that he had returned alone.
So, although there wasn’t much commotion, the senior and intermediate disciples whispered among themselves.
“What’s going on? Where’s the master?”
“I don’t know. Do you think he went on another trip? He does like to leave suddenly, doesn’t he?”
“Then what about Andrew-nim? Besides, even if the master went on a trip, there’s no way he would let Oliver walk back on foot.”
“That... that’s true...”
They didn’t know the specifics, but everyone could sense that something was very wrong, and their murmurs filled the air.
But soon, the room fell silent as Oliver, having hurriedly finished his shower, entered.
"Thank you all for waiting."
Oliver came in, carrying a bag on his back.
Upon closer inspection, it was the same bag he had taken when he left to meet Joseph.
When he opened it, bundles of cash were stuffed inside.
Oliver dragged a table over and dumped the contents of the bag onto it.
"!!!"
The disciples were stunned at the sight of the enormous sum of money—an amount most people could never even dream of seeing in their entire lives.
"Mari, could you organize this for me? Neatly, please."
"Ah... Yes, understood."
Frozen by Oliver’s request, Mari awkwardly nodded her head.
"Sorry, could a few of you help me with something?"
At his request, the disciples, who had been staring in shock at the cash, hesitated but eventually followed Oliver one by one.
Moments later, they returned with even more bundles of cash than before.
"......!!!!!!"
Everyone was too shocked to scream, but their faces showed their silent horror as Mari’s hands moved busily, arranging the money.
This process repeated several times. Soon, the table was overflowing with cash, spilling over in heaps.
Oliver quietly observed everyone. Joseph had been right.
When money piles up, it exudes a certain power. The disciples were unable to take their eyes off the money, their emotions seething—greed, fear, anticipation, all swirling together.
A senior disciple, trembling, asked in a shaky voice.
"T-this... what is this?"
"Oh... I brought it from the secret vault in the master's room."
At his words, everyone gasped in shock.
There were many rules within the family, but the most important one was never to touch Joseph’s belongings.
Especially things like his books, tools, and, most of all, his money.
Anyone who violated this rule—whether intentionally or by accident—had disappeared without a trace.
"Are you insane?! How could you bring the master’s money from his vault?! Have you lost your mind?!"
The senior disciple, as if he had unwittingly become part of a crime, shuddered and stepped back.
The others reacted similarly, though to varying degrees, except for Mari, who alone remained calm.
Oliver raised his hand gently.
"Everyone, please calm down..."
"Calm down?! Calm down! The master will kill us all when he returns! Don’t you understand?!"
"No, he won’t. He’s already dead."
"What in the world are you talking... wait, what?"
The terrified disciples froze as if they’d been doused with cold water. They stared at Oliver with dumbfounded expressions.
Oliver remained silent, allowing them time to calm down. After a while, a senior disciple, having regained some composure, asked.
"W-what do you mean the master is dead? By whose hand?"
"By mine... I killed him."
Oliver’s calm reply made everyone recoil in shock.
Reactions varied.
Some furrowed their brows as if they’d just heard a terrible joke, others were frightened, and some simply refused to believe it... or rather, they denied it.
Only Mari's eyes gleamed with understanding.
The senior disciple spoke.
"...That’s a lie."
"It’s not a lie. It’s the truth."
"Then show us proof. Proof that you killed the master."
"...Proof? Do I need to?"
"Of course! You’re making such an outrageous claim, and you didn’t bring proof?!"
"Ah... I suppose you’re right."
Oliver scratched the back of his head, as if realizing his mistake.
His casual demeanor left everyone more than a little horrified.
Everyone was on edge, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads as they struggled to process the situation.
Oliver, still scratching his head, eventually spoke up.
"...But he did help me out, so I couldn’t exactly bring his head as proof, could I? Carrying around a severed head just didn’t seem right."
"Then why did you kill the master?!"
At last, one of the senior disciples, pushed to his emotional limit, screamed out the question.
The others, gripped by fear, stepped aside. A fight seemed inevitable at this point.
Only Oliver remained calm as he answered.
"I regret it too. I didn’t want to kill the master. He helped me... and there was still so much I could’ve learned from him."
His voice was calm, but the slight hint of regret was more unsettling than any human sentiment. It was... alien.
"But please, believe me. I had no choice."
"Why didn’t you have a choice?"
Mari, who had been silently observing the situation, finally spoke. Her gaze held a firm trust in Oliver.
"He was going to kill me. Actually, he planned to sacrifice me as an offering."
"An... offering?"
"Yes, to a demon. He had already sacrificed Andrew-nim, along with many others I don’t know. Oh, and his master, too. He said he offered him as well."
The horrifying truth was conveyed so calmly that the disciples' faces turned pale with shock. It was as if they were livestock that suddenly realized they were human.
Someone, almost in denial, mumbled weakly.
“...That... that’s a lie. Why would the master do that?”
"I think it was to become stronger. The stronger the offering, the more powerful the reward… That’s why he took us in—"
"—Then it makes even less sense! The master came down to Wineham alone and wiped out an entire family to establish his own. No matter how talented you are, there’s no way you could have defeated him!"
"As you said, the master was powerful, and I almost died... but I was a bit lucky."
Oliver spoke as if he had found the most appropriate answer after some thought.
His demeanor remained utterly consistent. Strangely enough, it was this very attitude that made his words increasingly believable, even though he had not presented any concrete proof.
Joseph... had really been killed. By Oliver’s hand.
Overwhelmed by the situation, the disciples couldn’t bring themselves to take any action. As the tension mounted, Oliver clapped his hands to get their attention.
"Now, may I speak again?"
The silence that followed served as an answer, and Oliver resumed.
"For now, I have no plans to leave this place. Not yet. There’s still so much I want to study."
Oliver gestured toward the study, indicating his intent.
"So, I’m thinking of staying here for a while to continue studying. However, I also understand that some of you might find that uncomfortable since there are probably people who dislike me."
Some of the disciples flinched.
Even ordinary concerns and considerations felt odd and unsettling when they came from Oliver. It was disturbing, even eerie, rather than comforting.
"This money... it belonged to the master, but since he no longer needs it, perhaps those of you who don’t want to stay with me could take your share and leave?"
"...Huh?!"
Shocked, the disciples asked in disbelief. Oliver responded with surprise of his own.
"It would be difficult for me to leave, you see... There are just so many books in the study. Is that too much to ask?"
"N-no, that’s not it. But are you seriously saying we can take the money... for real?"
"Uh... yes. Since the master is no longer here, shouldn’t we divide it among ourselves? Isn’t that how it works?"
The focus of the conversation felt oddly misplaced.
The disciples looked at each other, bewildered.
At one point or another, everyone here had dreamed of becoming a powerful black magician like Joseph, establishing their own family, and enjoying wealth, power, and status. The forms differed, but their desires were similar at the core.
None of them had ever imagined sharing what they had gained. The very idea was alien.
As the disciples stood in shock, Mari raised her hand.
"Ah, Mari, are you planning to leave? Let’s see... one, two, three people..."
"No, Oliver-nim. I raised my hand to ask a question."
"Ah, I see. What is it?"
"If we stay, what happens then?"
"...Hmm. I’m not sure. Maybe we just keep doing what we’ve been doing?"
"Now that the master... no, Joseph is dead, something is bound to happen. In fact, the peace we’ve enjoyed here was partly due to Joseph’s strength."
"Really?"
"Yes. Once people learn that the master is gone, others will try to move in. It could lead to a fight."
"That would be... troublesome."
"Yes, it would be. To prevent such a situation, Oliver-nim, you need to become the new master of the family."
"Me?"
"Yes."
Oliver looked surprised, while Mari’s gaze was firm. Her eyes gleamed with determination.
Oliver scratched his cheek, looking awkward.
"But I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do."
"You would lead the organization and teach us, just like Joseph did. If you want to study the books in peace, you need to become our master."
Oliver stepped closer to Mari and stared directly into her face.
It wasn’t meant to be threatening, but for both Mari and the onlookers, it felt overwhelming.
After a brief pause, Oliver responded.
"...Well, if that’s how it has to be, I suppose..."
Mari let out a deep sigh of relief, followed by a smile of joy.
Oliver, however, didn’t quite understand why she seemed so happy.
At that moment, Peter interrupted.
"I-I think I know what we should do."
"One moment."
Oliver raised his hand to stop Peter, then addressed the rest of the group once more.
"So, what will the rest of you do? Will you stay, or will you leave?"