Chapter 39: Conclusion (1)
The negotiations with the Pater Church Celland Branch ended, and the Holy Knight’s group was released.
Contrary to their concerns, the group obediently followed the branch’s orders and left Wineham. A few days passed after that.
It was as if the chaos from back then had been a lie—the city became quiet once more, though that didn’t mean there were no aftereffects.
Two of the three major Black Magic Organizations in Wineham had vanished.
Of course, this in itself wasn’t too big of a problem.
The real issue was the small-to-medium Black Magic Families and their remnants, who were now acting up, mistaking the situation as an opportunity.
If their competition intensified, it could draw attention again, something the cautious Apothecary didn’t want, so he decided to act preemptively.
“How many are inside?”
A slum in Wineham.
James lowered his voice as he asked.
Oliver glanced at the abandoned building and replied, “Eight. They don’t seem to know we’ve arrived yet.”
“That’s good.”
James gestured to his subordinates, ordering them to block off the escape routes.
As expected of the Apothecary’s men, they swiftly moved to cover all exits. After confirming this, Oliver extracted a small amount of emotion and created two Minions.
“Mari.”
“Yes, Master.”
At Oliver’s call, Mari immediately extracted emotions and created two Wrath Bombs, holding one in each hand.
However, instead of throwing or detonating them, she simply held them, and Oliver’s Minions approached, pursing their lips as they began to suck up the Wrath Bombs.
“That’s better than before.”
“Thanks to you, Master.”
Oliver’s calm praise caused Mari to blush.
Oliver then commanded the Minions that had swallowed the Wrath Bombs to carefully enter the building.
“Please.”
Flying low to avoid detection, the Minions entered the building.
Moments later, there were loud explosions inside the building—bang, bang!
The Black Magicians inside must have been affected; a few of their emotions disappeared, and the rest were engulfed in confusion and fear.
Seeing this, Oliver nodded, signaling a successful ambush. James then gave the order to charge.
Armed with firearms and baseball bats, the employees stormed into the building simultaneously.
Loud noises came from inside the building, and suddenly, one of the employees rushed out in a panic, shouting.
“Shit! We’ve got a doping man!”
With those words, more employees poured out, and right behind them, one of the remnants of the Dominique Family, who had strengthened his body with drugs and black magic, came crashing through the wall.
“You damned bastards... I’ll squeeze you all to death!”
His skin was so red, it looked dangerous—whether from anger or excessive enhancement. He grabbed one of the gangsters shooting at him and hurled him into the wall.
“Fuck! I told you to kill him before he doped up!”
James shouted angrily and fired his gun, along with his subordinates.
Bullets rained down from all directions.
However, ordinary firepower couldn’t pierce the man’s enhanced muscles, let alone deal any fatal damage.
At best, it only slowed him down for a moment. But that was enough.
“Mari.”
“Yes, Master!”
At Oliver’s call, Mari stepped forward, holding a test tube.
Just as she had practiced hundreds of times, she cast Targeting Magic at the encircled Dominique Family remnant.
Then, in tandem, she fired three shots of Hate Bullets.
[Hate Bullet] ×3
The Hate Bullets flew swiftly toward the target, like darts aimed at a dartboard.
However, the enemy wasn’t a fool—he noticed and crossed his arms to defend himself.
As the steel-like forearms collided with the Hate Bullets, a wet, crushing sound echoed.
“Damn it... that really hurts!”
Remarkably, only one of the Black Magician’s arms was blown off.
It seemed the rumors were true that his specialty was disease magic and drugs.
Whether it was the pain or rage, his muscles swelled even more, turning an even deeper red. With his remaining strength, he kicked and threw debris from the destroyed building at the Apothecary’s men, keeping them at bay, then charged directly at Mari.
“I’ll kill you, you bitch...!!”
Mari was momentarily taken aback.
Perhaps due to recalling bad memories, she hesitated, fear gripping her, but Oliver, standing behind her, placed a hand on her shoulder and reached out.
[Hate Bullet]
Calmly, he fired a Hate Bullet, which flew straight toward the charging enemy’s head.
The now even stronger Black Magician, confident in his abilities, smirked and raised his remaining arm to block the attack. But, to his surprise, the single bullet shattered his arm and pierced through his head.
“...!!!”
The Black Magician, whose head burst like a watermelon, collapsed forward.
Considering how much trouble he had caused everyone, it was a shocking sight.
Yet Oliver remained unfazed, checking on Mari’s condition and offering advice.
“Your targeting speed has improved, and your Hate Bullet has gotten better... Are you okay?”
Mari snapped out of it and nodded.
“Yes... I’m fine.”
“Good. Let me tell you again—what you did just now was great. Your casting and speed have improved. But making multiple Hate Bullets at the expense of density is a bad habit. If you had made them properly, they would have pierced not only his arms but also his body... If you don’t make them properly, they’re meaningless. Understand?”
Like a teacher instructing a student, Oliver patiently explained, and Mari listened intently.
It would have been a pleasant scene if it hadn’t been in front of a corpse.
After instructing his subordinates to clean up, James approached Oliver.
“... Seeing you two get along so well puts me in a good mood.”
“Really?”
“No, that’s sarcasm. Don’t do that in front of corpses. It’s creepy.”
James said this while using a machete at his waist to sever the dead Black Magician’s head and bagged it.
Fortunately, the bag was specially treated, so no blood seeped out. Watching this, Oliver asked, “Why are you taking the head?”
“We can’t go around killing every remnant of Dominique, Anthony, and the other Black Magic Families one by one, can we? We need to show them we’ve taken down the big shots... Well, even if this one’s a bit messed up.”
“Oh... I see.”
“You’re always so calm. Have you ever been surprised in your life?”
“A few times.”
James shook his head, clearly not believing him. It was a normal reaction.
“James, we’ve finished the cleanup. We’ve secured the drug production equipment, the stolen goods, and the money.”
“Good. Don’t touch any of it—load it all into the car. We’ll split it with the Black Magician... Miss, would you like to help with the confirmation to make sure it’s all in order?”
Oliver looked at Mari, and she headed over to the cleanup site without delay.
James then turned to his subordinate again.
“Once everything’s cleaned up, call the cops and wrap it up neatly, got it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The conversation flowed smoothly. Oliver looked at James and asked, “So... is this it for today?”
“Yeah. Want to smoke?”
James offered a cigarette, but Oliver shook his head.
“No, I’m fine. There’s less work today than I expected.”
“Well, naturally. We’ve been fighting non-stop these past few days... Personally, I’m grateful.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, I’m talking to you. Thanks to you, everything was much easier, and fewer people died. I appreciate your help. Most people act all high and mighty at times like this, but you’re quiet, which is nice.”
“Well, I benefit from this, too.”
That was true.
Although Oliver was helping the Apothecary, he wasn’t doing it for free.
The Apothecary was assisting with several tasks that Oliver found tedious, such as reorganizing and stabilizing the group, expanding the Filgaret production facilities, and securing new hideouts and safe houses.
Moreover, Oliver had received books from the Dominique and Anthony Families as compensation during the negotiations with the Pater Church.
Of course, many of these benefits also worked in the Apothecary’s favor, but it was undeniable that Oliver was gaining from it as well.
Soon after, Mari returned.
“I’ve confirmed everything. The drug production equipment, stolen goods, and all the cash have been accounted for. We’ll be able to receive our share later.”
Mari showed her notebook, meticulously filled with notes like an accountant.
“Hmm... Got it. Since there’s nothing else to do today, can we head back?”
“Oh, hold on. After fighting together, you’re just going to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Damn, that was a quick answer. Do you hate me or something? Sorry, but could you stop by our side for a bit? The boss wants to see you, too.”
Mari was about to say something, but Oliver stopped her.
“The Apothecary wants to see me?”
“Yes, he has something to say. It’s fine, right?”
“Well... Sure, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
...
Oliver, Mari, and James rode in a truck and arrived at a warehouse located on the outskirts of Wineham.
This place handled all the drugs supplied to Landa, including legal medicines, Filgaret, and even suspicious aphrodisiacs.
Thanks to this, the warehouse looked shabby on the outside but was actually guarded by a significant number of security personnel.
“What’s the reason for calling us here?” Mari asked James.
“I don’t know, miss. I’m just an employee doing what I’m told, so don’t be so harsh. It hurts my feelings.”
Oliver calmed Mari down, assuring her everything was fine. She seemed dissatisfied with the Apothecary's decision to summon Oliver without warning.
Soon, the truck stopped.
James, Oliver, and Mari got out in that order. Workers loading cargo and guards patrolling the area greeted James and Oliver as they passed.
“Where’s the boss?” James asked.
“He’s waiting in the office inside the warehouse,” someone replied.
“Alright... Follow me, I’ll show you the way.”
James led the way in silence. As they walked, Mari lightly tugged on Oliver’s sleeve.
“Master?”
“Yes, Mari?”
“Take a look over there.”
Following Mari’s direction, Oliver spotted members of the Dominique and Anthony Families gathered to one side. Although they seemed downtrodden, they didn’t look like prisoners.
“What do you think it’s about?” Mari asked, clearly tense. In contrast, Oliver remained calm.
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
They entered the warehouse, passing stacks of boxes, and arrived at the second-floor office. Two stern-looking men guarded the door, but they allowed only Oliver to enter.
Mari seemed about to protest again, but Oliver stopped her.
“It’s fine.”
“Thank you for cooperating. Please, go ahead, Black Magician.”
One of the large guards politely opened the door.
Inside, Oliver found the Apothecary sitting at a desk. He put down the papers he was reading and stood up to greet Oliver.
“Thanks for coming. I’ve been waiting. First things first, let’s shake hands.”
The middle-aged man and the teenager shook hands.
“Please, take a seat. You don’t need anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Well, then... Was the job hard?”
“Not really. It was manageable.”
“Manageable?”
“Yes, it was good practice for Mari.”
The Apothecary glanced toward the door.
“I figured you’d bring her along. That’s why I didn’t let her in. She flares up at every little comment, and frankly, it’s a bit scary.”
“Ah... Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s not a big deal. Anyway, you take her with you quite often.”
“Well, just...”
“Haha, though that’s not the important part. I just wanted to say thank you. Things have been going more smoothly than I anticipated, all thanks to you.”
The Apothecary’s words were sincere.
There had been several troublesome remnants from the Dominique and Anthony Families, as well as other annoying Black Magicians, but once Oliver got involved, they were no longer an issue.
Now, most of them were lying low. This saved the Apothecary considerable time, manpower, and resources.
“I’m glad to hear I was of help.”
“You certainly were. And I’ve prepared a gift to show my gratitude.”
“Is it another book?”
“No, that’s all I had last time.”
“Oh... So, what is it?”
“Didn’t you notice anyone outside when you came in?”
“... The Dominique and Anthony Families?”
“Precisely, their remnants. Their leaders are dead, of course, but they came to us, seeking protection.”
“Really?”
“Yes, with us launching a large-scale purge in Wineham, they realized they either had to fight and win, flee, or surrender.”
“Ah... I see.”
“I’m giving them all to you.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m giving them to you, Oliver.”
Oliver didn’t react much, which wasn’t surprising since he wasn’t particularly interested in them.
Sensing this, the Apothecary explained just how significant his decision was.
“This might not seem like much to you, but for me, it’s a pretty big deal. If I accepted them, I could start producing Filgaret independently.”
“...”
“Even so, I’m offering them to you because I want to maintain a good relationship with your Family.”
At first glance, it sounded like an extremely generous offer, but in reality, it wasn’t all that valuable.
The Filgaret those Black Magicians could produce was nothing special; it was as common as dirt.
On the other hand, Oliver could produce Filgaret of such high quality that it had drawn serious attention.
In other words, the Apothecary’s offer wasn’t as generous as it seemed, and Oliver, while not saying it out loud, was aware of this.
He could see as much from the emotions of the scheming Apothecary.
Oliver remained silent, and the Apothecary, watching him, eventually sighed.
“Well... even though their Filgaret isn’t worth much, this is still a gesture of my trust in your Family.”
“Well... You don’t need to go to such lengths. I’m already grateful for your help.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I know how much assistance you’ve provided.”
The Apothecary’s emotions showed a sense of relief.
“I’m glad you recognize that... In that case, when do you think you’ll be able to start producing Filgaret on a larger scale?”
“Well, I can start immediately, but I’ll need to train the others a bit more, so it’ll take some time.”
By "training," Oliver meant synthesizing emotions, a process he was currently teaching to a select few advanced disciples, including Peter.
“Is there a particular reason to go through all that? You’d be much better off just making it yourself.”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate... This method will ensure more stable production in the long run.”
“Well, that’s true, but...”
“Don’t worry. I’ll start production on time and deliver the goods as promised.”
Hearing this, the Apothecary approached Oliver and extended his hand.
“As I get older, I find myself worrying more... Could I get one more confirmation?”
“... That the Apothecary will back and protect the Family and provide all necessary support for production, and in return, we’ll only trade with the Apothecary?”
“Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing to say, but I’d like to maintain a good relationship with you for as long as possible. Ideally, forever.”
Oliver looked at the Apothecary’s outstretched hand in silence.
The silence stretched on, the tension mounting, until finally, Oliver grasped his hand.
“Yes, that’s what I hope for as well.”
‘As long as I’m here, anyway.’
Oliver deliberately left those final words unsaid.