Chapter 121: Knuckle Joe (1)
"Did you really extract mana during the fight?"
A sudden question. It didn’t seem like he was just asking out of curiosity.
"Yes, that's right."
"...Hah."
Upon hearing the answer, Forest rubbed his dry face and let out a long sigh, clearly revealing his worried emotions.
"I heard about it in advance, but it’s still surprising... I never thought you'd be a rare case. May I ask why you didn’t mention it?"
"I didn’t know I was a rare case either. But what exactly is a rare case? Is it a term that refers to black magicians who extract mana?"
"Well, it’s something like that. But it also refers to those with unique traits worth researching."
"Research?"
"Yes... It's a bit inappropriate for the situation, but let's do a quick quiz. Who do you think came up with the term 'rare case'?"
Oliver remembered what Edith had said. The ones without imagination are the first to die.
"Uh... a magician?"
"Correct. Black magicians who extract mana, those with mana hypertrophy, those with Magical power generation disorder, mutants with special abilities, ogres with high intelligence, winged pigs... all rare, research-worthy cases. Some have already been studied to some extent, but in any case, you fall into that category as well."
Oliver showed interest.
"Are there other black magicians who can extract mana?"
"There are a few. Were you disappointed to find out there are others like you?"
"No, not at all. I’m rather glad. I might be able to learn something from them."
Even though he didn’t know anyone, and it was uncertain if they’d meet or if they’d even be willing to teach, Oliver spoke as if he was already planning to learn from them.
He even had a bright, childlike smile.
Forest gave a bitter smile as if he had nothing to say.
"Is that why Edith warned me?"
"Warned you about what?"
"She told me to be careful because I might be in danger. She said lone wolves are easy targets... Do you think she meant I should be wary of magicians?"
"That’s probably it. Magicians see knowledge as power. They’ll do anything for research, and they’re not concerned with ethics."
It didn’t sound wrong.
There was that horrific laboratory in the underground of the contaminated zone.
Although recently it had been used by Puppet, the original owner was indeed a magician.
There were even stories of them making deals with demons to conduct research.
It was just something Puppet said, but it didn’t seem like a lie.
Suddenly, a question came to mind.
What’s the difference between a magician and a black magician?
Magic and black magic. The mechanics of the study are the same, and their actions aren’t all that different either.
While Oliver was deep in thought, Forest spoke up abruptly.
"But there's no need to worry too much."
"Excuse me?"
"Magicians. There’s no need to be too concerned about them... Sometimes they act recklessly, but they’re not fools. They won’t just kidnap you outright."
It seemed Forest had misunderstood something, trying to reassure Oliver.
Oliver simply listened quietly.
"This city maintains its balance through the cooperation and checks of various factions. Not to brag, but even our Broker Association plays a small part in that balance. Although you’re not an official member, you’ve been working with me, and you’ve been making a name for yourself recently. Even magicians can’t just kidnap you without consequences."
"That’s a relief."
"But aside from that, you should still be cautious."
"What exactly do you mean by being cautious?"
"Nothing too complicated. Just don’t give the magicians any reason to target you. If you give them an excuse, even the Broker Association will find it hard to help you. They might step back quietly and leave you to your fate."
Ah, so even the Broker Association found it burdensome to deal with magicians.
That made sense, given the elevated status of magicians in this city.
"I understand. I’ll be careful."
"Thanks for understanding. The peace in this city is as fragile as the pride of a nine-year-old child. It’s always on the edge, so you never know what might happen or when. You have to be cautious."
Forest spoke with genuine concern.
Perhaps if Oliver had just arrived in the city, he wouldn’t have understood what Forest meant. But now, he had a slight grasp of it.
This massive city had its petty, trivial sides.
Especially when it came to the Edith situation, Oliver had felt it.
It was fascinating.
The peace of this massive city, filled with countless buildings, cars, and people, was maintained by such emotions.
It was hard to explain, but fascinating nonetheless.
Oliver gathered the anonymous bankbook, the business card, and the book he had received as payment and stood up from his seat.
"If it’s alright, I’d like to take my leave now."
"Of course, we don’t have anything more to discuss anyway. In the meantime, I’ll look for any decent jobs. Do you have any specific requests or pay requirements?"
A specific job or pay...
"It’s hard to say for now."
"I figured. Well, I’ll pick out a few jobs for you. If you think of anything, let me know. I’ll do my best to accommodate."
"Thank you."
Oliver gave a polite bow and walked out of Forest’s office.
...
About thirty minutes after Oliver left Forest’s office, Al, one of the staff, knocked on the door.
Knock-knock.
"Come in."
After receiving permission, Al gently opened the door and stepped inside.
He closed the door behind him and looked at Forest, who was buried in a mountain of paperwork.
Most of it was requests, with about 30% of the papers addressed directly to Dave.
"...Boss."
"Yes, what is it?"
"We're out of lamb again. Should I place another order?"
"Yes, order from the usual place. Their lamb is excellent."
"Understood... And about the check, what should we do? I think it's time to give them an answer."
Hearing this, Forest paused and rubbed his face again.
The check in question had been given to him two days ago by a representative from the Martel Life Research Institute.
The man had traveled a long distance just to have a simple meal with Forest, during which he handed over the check.
He claimed it was because he enjoyed the food, but Forest knew that was a blatant lie. And of course, the man knew that as well.
In this business, people communicated through subtle gestures.
That check was a kind of message.
They were telling Forest that they intended to kidnap Dave and were asking him to turn a blind eye.
At the same time, it was a warning not to interfere.
It was a brazen move, born of their confidence in their own power.
Forest had to respond.
No matter how he answered, he probably wouldn’t be able to change their actions, but at the very least, it could influence what happened next.
Forest took the check, which he had carefully stored in his drawer like a bomb.
It was only 300 million won, with Martel’s “M” signature on it.
Forest decided to write a formal letter of refusal and placed it along with the check in an envelope.
"Take this to the post office. Send it by express delivery."
Al took the envelope politely, but still asked with concern.
"Are you sure about this?"
It was a reasonable question, despite seeming a bit cowardly.
The check from Martel wasn’t so much a request for permission as it was a notice.
After all, they were a well-known, powerful group in this city.
They had immense capital, support from the School of Life Magic, and held numerous patents, giving them influence in many fields.
They were obsessed with mage supremacy and eugenics, but refusing an offer from such a powerful group was dangerous.
Depending on how things went, Forest might have to leave the business or even lose his life...
Going against the strong in this city was one of the most foolish things one could do.
But despite that, Forest stuck to his initial decision.
This was the only way to make them even slightly cautious.
If he delayed answering out of fear, no one would help him later. Silence would be taken as agreement.
That’s why he had to give his answer now.
"Even if the shop goes under, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get you proper severance pay and help you find another job."
"That’s not what I meant, boss."
Forest looked at Al, his red-skinned employee.
"Of course, I know... Would you mind running to the post office?"
"Yes, of course."
Al respectfully bowed his head.
After Al left and Forest was alone again in his office, he straightened his clothes and gathered his thoughts.
In truth, there wasn’t too much to worry about.
The competition among magicians was fierce both internally and externally, and even the School of Life Magic wouldn’t find it easy to act recklessly.
Besides, Dave was a rising star, quickly making a name for himself. There were too many eyes on him for them to openly kidnap him.
If Dave had been an unknown fixer, the Broker Association might have turned a blind eye, but now his reputation extended beyond T-District, and the Broker Association couldn’t ignore it if things went wrong.
Such a public incident would ruin their credibility, and worse, their business could collapse.
But trusting only in that wouldn’t be wise, since this city was dangerous in both its shadows and its light.
Forest went back to reviewing the request papers.
He needed to pick out the ones with the best conditions to connect Dave with influential clients.
That network would become the shield that protected both Dave and himself.
Thanks to Dave, not only had Forest’s income grown, but his status within the Broker Association had risen as well, so this was the right thing to do.
"Yes, of course, it's the right thing to do. This isn’t about repaying a debt to Kent."
...
"Hey, who the hell are you, you son of a bitch?"
In a corner of the black market Edith had mentioned, Oliver found himself surrounded by a group of merchants.
They were drug dealers, and after Oliver had asked a few questions about “gifts,” they seemed displeased and stared at him menacingly.
Who would’ve thought asking where they got their gifts would piss them off so much?
"Why aren’t you answering, you bastard? What the hell made you ask where we got our gifts? Answer me, you little shit."
A skeleton-thin man repeated his question.
He, too, seemed to be a black magician.
The hulking men who appeared to be his subordinates were now holding iron pipes, glaring at Oliver like they were ready to strike at any moment.
Not wanting to cause a commotion that might trouble Edith, Oliver tried to resolve the issue politely.
"Did I offend you in some way?"
"Offend? Ha... I’m losing my mind. Hey, where are you from? Did that bastard Rudy send you?"
"Who's Rudy? Anyway, I’m sorry. I just wanted to confirm something. That’s all."
"Oh... what exactly did you want to confirm?"
"Well, it’s a personal matter, so it’s a bit hard to explain."
"Aha... then I’ll help you feel like talking. Boys?"
At his command, the big men grabbed Oliver under his arms and tried to snatch away his quarterstaff.
"This too is rather rude—"
Grip.
Oliver tightened his hold on the quarterstaff.
The thug, who looked quite strong, tried several times to yank it from his grip, but the staff wouldn’t budge from Oliver’s hand.
Irritated, the man glared at Oliver and spoke in a low voice.
"Are you going to let go or what?"
"...Sorry, this is a gift. I can't."
At that moment, the tension in the air began to rise.
Oliver spoke again, politely.
"Once again, I apologize. If you can’t share information about the gift, I’ll leave quietly. I won’t bother your business again. Truly, I’m sorry."
The skeleton-like man lit a cigarette, exhaled a puff of smoke, and said:
"I can’t just let you walk away..."
He seemed about to do something when...
"Ah, I thought it was you."
A familiar voice suddenly cut in.
At the same time, the tone was unmistakable.
Turning his head, Oliver saw a man in a suit with messy, unkempt hair—Knuckle Joe.
Oliver greeted him.
"Ah, hello, Joe. It's been a while."
"Yeah, it has been a while..."
The skeleton-like man, who seemed to know Joe, asked:
"What’s going on? You know this guy?"
"Yeah. So, I’m telling you, you’d better let go of him."