Chapter 38: Conversation (2)
"How do you do?"
Oliver spoke as he entered through the door.
The Holy Knight Joanna, who was restrained on the bed, did not respond to him.
However, that didn’t matter. Oliver could sense the emotions of anger, frustration, and confusion from her.
Oliver brought a stool beside her and sat down. He greeted her again.
"…How do you do?"
"…Do I look like I'm doing well?"
Clink. She raised one of her shackled arms as she replied.
"I’m sorry. I also think it’s a bit much, but others insisted this was necessary for peace of mind... Are you very uncomfortable?"
"No, not really. I could break free anytime if I wanted to."
"Well, I’m sure you could, as a knight. However, if you do, the black magic we’ve prepared here will activate, and you might get hurt. Not just you, but your fellow comrades as well."
Joanna glanced at the minion and frowned, seemingly aware of this fact.
She clearly wanted to move but couldn’t, out of concern for her companions.
This was evident in the way she had repeatedly been urged to surrender. She was quite a kind-hearted person.
It piqued Oliver's curiosity. How could such a person fight? How could she remain brave even when facing death? How could she radiate such a beautiful light...
He had so many questions.
"First, let me formally introduce myself. My name is Oliver. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
Oliver introduced himself as kindly as he could, extending his hand as he had practiced. However, the only thing he received in return was a cold glare.
"What are you trying to pull?"
"…I just want to have a conversation."
"A conversation...? I don’t know what your game is, but if you think you can extract information from me or manipulate me, it won’t work. I won’t be fooled, and I won’t yield to any torture."
Her tone was sharp, her words sincere. For some reason, she was deeply wary of Oliver.
"I’m not trying to extract any information."
"And how do I believe that?"
"Um... Is it because I’m a black magician that you’re so wary?"
"Yes. Is there any other reason?"
"I’m genuinely curious… is there some particular problem with me being a black magician?"
Joanna, who had been avoiding Oliver’s gaze, frowned and looked at him directly. She seemed deeply offended.
"Are you mocking me? Treating me like a fool?"
"No, I’m not mocking you or treating you like a fool. I just want to have a conversation."
"…"
Joanna stared at Oliver silently, as if trying to gauge his true intentions.
Finally, she slowly spoke.
"Do you not know that you manufacture harmful drugs that plunge people into misery?"
"Ah... you’re talking about Filgaret?"
"Yes. Are you honestly telling me you don’t know how many people suffer because of the drugs you produce?"
"I don’t know much… I haven’t been in black magic for very long."
"Don’t lie!"
"I’m not lying. It’s fine if you don’t believe me, but... as far as I know, Filgaret isn’t that harmful. It’s about as bad as cigarettes... I’ve heard it’s even used medicinally."
"Even if that were true, a drug is still a drug, and you black magicians steal people's emotions to make it, don’t you?"
"It’s not stealing. We buy emotions from those who are willing to sell."
"Are you seriously claiming it’s right to tempt the poor with money to take their emotions?"
At that moment, Oliver recalled a woman who had all her maternal love extracted, losing not only herself but also her child.
"Um... no. It doesn’t seem right. I took too much, and she ended up ruined. It was a sad thing."
"Exactly."
"That’s why, from now on, I plan to set a limit when extracting emotions. I’ve heard that as long as it’s within a certain amount, it’s fine. Like donating blood."
Joanna’s face was filled with anger and disgust.
"There’s no reasoning with you."
"Really? I’m sorry. But I’m still happy we’re able to talk... Just out of curiosity, if black magicians stopped making drugs, would you no longer hate them?"
"Are you seriously asking that?"
"Yes... I’m curious why you hate black magicians so much."
"I hate black magicians because they hurt people without hesitation to satisfy their desires and worship evil demons. Their very existence is evil."
"Um... But isn’t it possible there are black magicians who don’t do that?"
"If pigs had wings, maybe. But they don’t."
"…So you’re saying it’s impossible? I’m sorry, I’m not very good at understanding metaphors."
"Yes, you’re right. There’s no such thing. What, are you going to claim you’re not like that?"
Oliver pondered for a moment.
"No, I don’t worship demons, but I do kill people when necessary."
"Ha!"
Joanna let out a mocking laugh as if to say, "I knew it."
"But aren’t all people like that?"
"What?"
"Don’t people kill others when they need to?"
"…What kind of nonsensical logic is that?"
"Oh, I’m sorry if I made you angry. It’s just that the orphanage director, the mine overseer, the innkeeper, the black magicians, the magicians, even my master… all of them tried to kill me when they needed to."
"..."
"So I thought it was normal. To kill people if necessary... So I killed the inn worker, Tom, the gangsters, the magicians, and even my master. Was that wrong?"
"Of course it’s wrong! What do you think life is?"
"But didn’t you also kill the gangsters, Knight?"
At that moment, Joanna’s heart briefly wavered, as if struck by a painful truth.
"That was… unavoidable. They were criminals who collaborated with black magicians and refused the final chance to surrender, as commanded by the mercy of the gods. There was no other choice."
"Oh..."
Oliver nodded, as if understanding.
"Sorry, but who decides that something is unavoidable?"
"...?"
"Did the gods say that?"
"Are you mocking the gods right now?"
"No, I just really don’t know much... But from what little I do understand, the gods seem to be beings who care for both black magicians and gangsters equally. I just don’t think they’d say something like that."
"What do you know to make such a claim?! Are you mocking the will of our Pater Church, which protects humanity from black magicians and demons? Every nation agrees with us!"
"…So in other words, it’s not exactly the gods who approved of it? At least you’ve never seen them yourself?"
Joanna’s beautiful face twisted with anger, but she couldn’t find the words to respond.
It was as if Oliver had dredged up doubts she had kept buried, deeply unsettling her.
"Is your goal to shatter my faith with your deceitful tongue?"
"No, no... not at all. I genuinely admire you as you are now."
Joanna furrowed her brow, staring at Oliver again.
Oliver tried to explain, though his words came out jumbled.
"Ah, I’m not sure how to say this, but I like you, Knight. You’re beautiful."
"How dare you utter such filthy words…"
"Huh? I’m sorry if it upset you. I didn’t mean anything improper. I just think your emotions are beautiful and fascinating..."
"…?"
"Why did you become a Holy Knight?"
"…What are you really asking?"
"As you know, I watched from afar as you fought the gangsters. You don’t seem to enjoy fighting, so why do you fight?"
"…"
"When people engage in battle, they are usually consumed by the thrill of victory, a sense of superiority, or a desire for destruction, but with you, there was only pure conviction. You even felt sorrow when you defeated the gangsters."
"…"
"I’m curious about that. Why do you fight?"
"…I fight not because I enjoy it, but because it’s my duty. It’s not out of pleasure in harming others, but because someone has to do it."
"Is that so? Is that why you were so calm in the face of death?"
Joanna was visibly shaken, a rare reaction.
She recalled the moment when the darkness had engulfed everything except her eye and mouth, as Oliver extracted her emotions.
"...What exactly was that?"
"Pardon?"
"The darkness that filled the sewers. This may be my first official mission, but I’ve never seen anything like that."
"Oh, I don’t know much about it either."
"…"
"It’s true. I extracted my emotions for the first time, so there’s a lot I don’t know myself. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. Please don’t be upset."
"I don’t understand why I’m even talking to you."
"I just want to understand the beautiful light."
"The beautiful light?"
"Yes, more precisely, the beautiful emotion. Right before people die, they shine brilliantly. I’ve seen it three times, but you’re the only one who survived... So I wanted to ask, what were you thinking in that moment?"
Oliver adjusted his posture and leaned in, eager to hear her response. There was something almost childlike in his demeanor.
Joanna gazed at Oliver for a long moment before reversing the inquiry.
"Before I answer, let me ask you first. Why are you so curious about that?"
"Uh... because it’s beautiful?"
He sounded as if even he wasn’t sure of the reason. Upon reflection, it seemed obvious. There was no deeper reason behind learning black magic or seeking beautiful emotions. That was the goal in itself.
"So, you went through all this trouble just because you find it beautiful?"
"Yes... Is that wrong?"
Hearing this, Joanna’s anger and disgust toward Oliver began to soften, and she now regarded him with pity instead.
"You’re... broken."
"Broken?"
"Yes. Answer me this: how many times have you felt sadness or anger?"
Oliver pondered seriously.
Sadness or anger, huh?
Was it when he was falsely accused and beaten by the orphanage director? No.
When he was tricked and sold to the mine? No.
When the other children were beaten in the mine? No.
When the overseer spat in his face and insulted him for being an orphan? No.
When he nearly died in the inn? No.
When he was slapped by the Intermediate Disciple? No.
When Andrew tried to kill him? No.
When his master tried to sacrifice him? No.
"Um... not many times. Oh! I did feel a bit sad when I couldn’t extract a beautiful light, and I was also sad when I saw the woman who lost her maternal love."
"That’s not sadness, that’s disappointment. Like a child who didn’t get the toy he wanted."
"Ah... is that so?"
Oliver folded his arms and reflected on this. Could that be true?
At that moment, Joanna spoke again.
"You are broken. You can’t feel proper emotions. That’s why you’re chasing after black magic and beautiful emotions."
"Am I?"
"At least that’s how I see it. Let me help you."
"Oh... How?"
"Stop what you’re doing right now, repent, and atone for your sins."
"...And after that?"
"Come out of the darkness and into the world. Live among people and learn what it means to be human."
"What does it mean to live as a human?"
"Wake up early, work diligently, make friends and neighbors, laugh with them, cry with them. I’ll help you."
Oliver could tell that Joanna was sincere. She genuinely pitied him and wanted to help.
She was indeed a kind woman. Oliver had never met anyone with such warm and beautiful emotions.
"It’s quite an... interesting story. I mean it. But I’m afraid it would be difficult."
"Why?"
"Under normal circumstances, I might’ve tried it. But I have promises to keep, and debts to repay. I think fulfilling those obligations comes first."
"…Do you really think holding us captive will solve anything?"
"No. But there should be negotiations soon, so I think it’ll work out."
"Negotiations?"
"Oh, sorry... I wasn’t supposed to say that. Please forget I mentioned it."
Oliver stood up from his seat. Joanna, in a fit of frustration, tried to rise as well, but the chains binding her clanked, stopping her.
"Damn it…!"
As Oliver was about to leave, he turned back to look at her.
"Joanna, thank you very much for today. I think I now understand a little more of what I’ve been searching for. I’m really grateful."
"Hey...!"
Joanna tried to say something, but Oliver had already left.
He had more or less obtained everything he needed.
After that, a week passed, and Joanna was released.