Chapter 62: Retrieval (1)
Retrieval of former assistant professor Herbert from the Magic Tower.
As soon as Oliver accepted the mission, he took a taxi and headed for the entrance of X-District.
One good thing about Landa's taxis was that the drivers didn’t ask unnecessary questions when taking passengers to X-District. From experience, it seemed like they knew the passenger was involved in something dangerous, or at least related to it.
Thanks to the driver’s consideration, Oliver briefly skimmed through the information he received from Forest, recalling the explanation he had been given.
As soon as he accepted the mission, Forest provided more details beyond the brief overview.
"Alright, now that you’ve officially accepted, I’ll explain the job in detail. First, the target, Herbert, isn’t someone you need to worry too much about. He may be from the Magic Tower, but his specialty is alchemy and herbology. His ability in practical magic is extremely poor. That’s why he’s just an assistant professor."
Practical Magic.
This term refers to a mage’s real combat ability, including the number of spells they can actually use, their proficiency, and their mana heart capacity. Although it’s not an absolute rule, it’s generally accepted that a mage with strong practical magic skills is considered powerful.
Conversely, it also meant that Herbert, with his low practical magic skills, had little combat strength and didn’t require much caution.
"And the gang members are the same. There’s about twenty to thirty of them… more like scarecrows set up to keep away petty thieves and any idiots who might approach, rather than real guards. If you fight them properly, they’ll probably flee immediately."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, they’re the kind that neither has proper skills nor the determination to die. They’re like flies, only interested in the sweet fruit of violence… partly because they don’t know anything else."
It seemed like there was some deeper meaning in his words.
"But the real problem is these guys."
Forest said this as he took out three black-and-white photos from his drawer.
"From the left… no, from my side. Yes, over there… from the left, that’s Knuckle Joe, Nico, and Big Jaw. These guys are the real problem."
Oliver glanced over the photos one by one.
"...This person looks a bit unusual."
He pointed to the third photo, indicating Big Jaw.
As the name suggested, the man’s jaw was extremely large, but in addition, his forehead jutted out, and the whites of his eyes were smaller than the dark pupils.
It might sound harsh, but he looked more like a guard dog than a person.
"You’ve got a sharp eye. It’s not just unusual… he’s a mutant."
Mutant.
Oliver had heard about them from Kent. They were twisted humans, born due to environmental pollution from factories or the side effects of magical experiments.
Most of them had different appearances from ordinary humans, which led the majority of people to treat them as cursed beings or inferior subspecies.
There was even ongoing legal debate about how to classify them.
Most mutants were born in the slums or working-class neighborhoods near the Sem River, where factories dumped their wastewater.
Although most of them had low intelligence, a few mutants displayed incredible physical abilities.
"All three of them are members of the Fighter Crew."
"Fighter Crew?"
"Yes, it's a newly formed black magic organization. Unlike traditional black magic organizations like the Family, which have a hierarchical structure of master and disciple, this group operates in a more horizontal fashion. Though, of course, there’s still some level of rank."
"Oh, I see."
Oliver responded as he stored this new information in his mind.
"Anyway, the Fighter Crew is a relatively recent black magic group that, instead of making drugs, takes on mercenary work. They handle anything related to violence: assaults, destruction, assassination, protection, and security. Because of that, they don’t compete directly with the older black magic families and are steadily growing in strength. You could say they’ve found a niche market. Though, to be honest, it’s more like a bunch of battle maniacs stumbled into it by chance."
"That’s impressive, Forest. How do you know all this?"
"I’m a broker. It’s basic stuff. But thanks for the compliment."
After wrapping up the explanation, Forest returned to the main point.
"All three of these guys are members of the Fighter Crew. As you’d expect, combat is their specialty. Knuckle Joe, as his nickname suggests, specializes in close combat and, naturally, uses disease-type black magic."
Oliver looked at his quarterstaff. Close combat, huh...
"Nico uses firearms and disease-type black magic. He can shoot twenty Hate Bullets at once. Pretty dangerous firepower, so be cautious."
"......."
"And the third, Big Jaw, as you can see, bites through everything with that mouth of his. If he bites you even once, it’s over, so be especially careful of him… Any questions?"
"Um… rather than a question, could I ask you for a favor? It’s alright if you can’t grant it, though."
"...What is it?"
"Could you tell me how you gather all this information? I’m not asking for the method, just curious about the system. It seems almost magical, knowing this much."
"It’s nothing special. The reason I charge a 5% higher fee than other brokers is precisely because of this."
"Still, it’s impressive."
Forest looked at Oliver for a moment before speaking.
"...Well, alright. Since you’re handling this job for me, I suppose I can tell you. How about this: if you come back safely, I’ll teach you how."
"Oh, that sounds great. Really great. Then I’ll finish the job as quickly as possible and return."
With those words, Oliver stood up, left the restaurant, and hailed a taxi. And...
SCREECH—
The sound of the car coming to a stop pulled Oliver back to reality.
"Sir, we’ve arrived at the entrance of X-District. Sorry, but this is as far as I can go."
Oliver put the documents away and pulled out some money from his coat.
"No, thank you for bringing me this far."
"No need to thank me. Huh? This is too much money."
"It’s a bit extra as a thank you for taking me to such a dangerous place. Could I ask you for one more favor?"
"A favor? What is it...?"
"Could you come back here around 9 a.m. tomorrow? I’ll pay you double for the return trip."
"Double?"
"Yes, it’s hard to catch a taxi here. But of course, you can refuse if it’s too much trouble."
Oliver spoke softly.
...
After finishing his conversation with the taxi driver and getting out of the car, Oliver could once again feel the gazes and emotions observing him from the shadows, as usual.
At first, it made him nervous, but by the second and third time, he had gotten somewhat used to it. Now, he even found it somewhat comforting.
Oliver walked forward as if nothing was wrong, while quietly extracting the emotions he had tucked away inside himself.
As he passed through a shadowed area, he cast Eraser Exit on himself.
This black magic, based on the emotion of shame, was a form of stealth magic. Though it was just a simple technique to suppress his presence, it had proven highly effective in the past.
And even now, it seemed to be working to some extent. As he wandered here and there, one by one, people began to lose interest in him.
It was a good outcome. There was no advantage in drawing attention before the mission even began.
Judging that he had evaded enough of the gazes, Oliver checked Forest’s materials again and headed towards the magic brew workshop where assistant professor Herbert was located.
It wasn’t in the deepest part of X-District, but it was in a pretty remote area compared to the places Oliver had been before.
After wandering through the maze-like streets several times, Oliver finally arrived at his destination.
Sure enough, the actual layout of X-District differed from the map, likely due to the many unauthorized buildings.
"Hmm…"
Oliver made a sound as he observed the magic brew workshop from a distance.
White smoke was billowing from a square, brick-like building. It seemed to be the workshop where the magic brew was being produced.
As proof, several gang members were loitering around or sitting nearby, keeping watch.
Oliver studied the gang members.
As Forest had said, they didn’t seem like professionally trained guards, but more like people hired just to create a threatening presence. At best, they were a slight step above beggars.
Their appearance and emotions were all slack, and their equipment was poor and lacked uniformity.
If Oliver wanted, he could probably send in a large number of minions infused with Wrath Bombs and take them all out in one blow.
Of course, doing so might harm the target, so it was not an appropriate method.
But that didn’t mean Oliver was at a loss.
There were plenty of other options.
For example, instead of using high-powered Wrath Bombs, he could deploy a large number of minions infused with Creepy Scream, then threaten them with Hate Bullets while detonating the bombs. Like the time with the mole gang, this would likely crush the gang members’ will to fight in one go.
Or he could send in a large number of minions armed with Hate Bullets to systematically eliminate them one by one...
Once again, Oliver found himself marveling at the versatility of black magic.
By combining just a few basic black magic spells, he could create an endless variety of tactics.
It wasn’t just about raw power; the infinite potential of these mechanisms was truly fascinating.
Oliver suddenly recalled a passage from one of the books he had read in Joseph’s library.
Unlike magic, which relied on overwhelming firepower to subdue enemies, black magic was a discipline that thrived on reading the enemy’s weaknesses and exploiting them with cunning.
In that sense, some argued that black magic was a more delicate and higher-level form of study.
Since Oliver didn’t fully understand what magic truly was, he couldn’t easily make a judgment, but it felt like there might be some truth to it.
After all, the lightning mage had that same sort of nuance. Or was it inappropriate to base such a conclusion on just one lightning mage?
"Ah… I’m getting sidetracked again."
Oliver shook his head, snapping back to reality.
First, he needed to focus on completing the task at hand. As Kent had emphasized, mission success and maintaining one’s credibility were crucial.
Oliver decided to concentrate on the immediate mission. He sat down in his spot, contemplating the best approach to carry out the task.
How could he solve the problem in the most effective and interesting way? It was almost as if he was mulling over a puzzle.
First, he reviewed his objective once more: to safely retrieve the magic brew maker, Herbert. That meant he should refrain from using black magic with significant destructive power.
If Herbert were caught in the crossfire, he could get injured or even killed.
Causing a commotion might also make Herbert attempt to escape. If that happened, it would be troublesome to track him down, especially with no leads.
"...No, wait. If I memorize all the emotions around here now, I might have an easier time finding him later, should he try to flee."
Focusing his eyes, Oliver took note of the emotions emanating from the area around the magic brew workshop. He memorized them for future reference, just in case.
There were about sixty people in total, including not just the gang members but also the workers inside the workshop.
It seemed like a lot, but Kent had always been overly cautious, so Oliver felt it was reasonable.
He imprinted the glow of each emotion into his memory, so that he could recall them whenever needed.
After confirming all the emotions, he pondered again.
How should he subdue these people and retrieve his target?
As mentioned earlier, there were countless options available to him. But this time, he wanted to try something different—something beyond brute force.
Don’t misunderstand. Oliver wasn’t getting carried away with his own power.
It was simply that Kent had advised him to try various methods in order to hone his skills.
Kent had mentioned that, while he himself had stuck to familiar techniques due to his lack of talent, Oliver should strive to complete missions in a variety of ways to improve his craft. This would be essential if Oliver wanted to reach his ultimate goal.
There would be times when brute force wasn’t an option—situations where destructive magic was restricted.
In such moments, Oliver would need alternative strategies, such as close-quarters combat.
Kent had advised him to take every opportunity to try different methods, even if it required extra effort.
Honestly, it wasn’t bad advice.
Kent’s logic was sound, and the emotions he conveyed when giving the advice were genuine, free of deceit.
And now, coincidentally, Oliver had encountered black magicians who used disease-type black magic. It was as if someone was offering him a chance to practice.
In the end, Oliver decided to follow Kent’s advice and handle this mission in a way he wasn’t entirely accustomed to.
For that, he would need the cover of darkness. So, he waited for the night to fall.