Chapter 125: Just Someone Helping (1)
"Mm-hmm..."
The basement of the warehouse.
Oliver was struggling with the corpse of Pinkman.
Before receiving the corpses of a doctor and a black magician that he had ordered from the Black Market, he decided to practice handling the body, but it was more time-consuming than he had anticipated.
"Ugh..."
He made an incision in Pinkman's abdomen with a scalpel, then used an abdominal retractor he had purchased from the Black Market to pull the opening wide, exposing the cavity in one go.
A heavy stench of blood rose, though thankfully, there was no foul odor of decay. The body swallowed by Big Mouth had been surprisingly well-preserved without any signs of rot.
Oliver used a pair of forceps to remove the organs. They were squishy and slippery, almost slipping from his grasp a few times, but after a couple of attempts, he got used to it.
Squish.
He placed the respiratory system, digestive system, and detoxification organs he had just removed into a bag with a storage function.
He had heard that there were people at the Black Market who bought organs like these.
They used them as ingredients to make black magic items or potions.
It wouldn’t earn him a fortune, but after realizing how quickly his money disappeared last time, he planned to save by selling organs like these.
It was astonishing how the 400 million Landa he had risked his life to earn vanished so fast. This made him feel the need to be even more frugal.
The corpse was now hollow after the removal of its organs. Oliver moved on to the next step.
He grabbed a handful of white powder that absorbed blood and moisture to prevent decay, and sprinkled it inside the body.
The official name of the white powder was drying powder (燥粉).
According to Puppeteer Glyp's journal, applying this before using the main chemicals made the process much more efficient.
Although Puppet claimed to have no memory of Glyp, he still had remarkable skill and passion when it came to his corpse puppets.
This could be inferred indirectly from the notes and memos written in the journal.
In addition to that, Glyp had saved money and entered Black Hand on his own. His enthusiasm, at least, was undeniable.
Oliver suddenly felt he had made a mistake.
Instead of just leaving the bodies after killing them, he should have found a way to preserve them somehow.
That way, he could have used them as materials for secondary corpse puppets, saving both resources and money.
"Sigh... I'll be more careful next time."
Muttering to himself, Oliver picked up a metal tool.
This tool, with a broad hook-like end, was called a spatula.
Its purpose was to scrape out the drying powder that had clumped together inside the body.
Before scraping it out, Oliver examined the corpse. The insides where the drying powder had been applied were quite dry, and the body itself felt slightly desiccated.
"Good, everything seems right so far..."
After checking his notebook, Oliver murmured and proceeded to the next stage.
He held the corpse with one hand and used the spatula with the other to carefully scrape out the drying powder stuck to the inside walls, ensuring that he didn’t cause any damage to the body.
After removing the larger chunks of the drying powder, he used a cloth soaked in cleanser to meticulously wipe away the remaining sticky residue, and then moved the body to a non-corrosive steel tank.
Moving the corpse was no easy task.
"Hah... I really need to make an assistant. Or I should work on getting stronger."
After laboriously placing the body in the large tank, Oliver repeated the process twice more.
As a result, three corpses were now stacked inside the tank.
Although he wasn’t sure if this was okay, he had heard that when time was short or when producing in bulk, or when the project wasn’t of great importance, processing the corpses in this way wouldn’t be a problem.
Covered in sweat from the work, Oliver wiped himself with a towel, then put on special gloves, an apron, and a mask.
Next, he picked one of the five chemical containers stored in a corner of the warehouse.
It was a chemical used to preserve the corpses. Opening the lid, Oliver poured an entire container into the tank.
Glug, glug, glug...
The transparent, slightly viscous liquid slowly filled the tank, engulfing the corpses.
Once the tank was full, he used a heavy object to completely submerge the bodies.
After setting the timer on his alarm clock, Oliver tidied up the surrounding area and took a short break.
From this point on, he would have to soak the corpses for two hours, take them out to dry, and then soak them again for another two hours.
This process had to be repeated three times to ensure the bodies wouldn’t decay and would retain the durability and flexibility needed to become proper corpse puppets.
This was just the basic preparation...
"No wonder you need at least two or three assistants for this."
Oliver said, taking out a cigarette case from his discarded clothes.
It wasn’t a real cigarette, but a case of Filgarets—gifts made by Mari and her team.
Just in case, Oliver pulled out one Filgaret and inspected it.
It wasn’t much different from the ones he had received from Nina in the past.
It held a blend of anger and maternal love, two seemingly contradictory emotions mixed in perfect balance.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Oliver placed it in his mouth and lit it.
This was his second time smoking a Filgaret.
However, it left him feeling nothing in particular once again.
How should he put it... It didn’t suit his taste. No, rather, it went beyond just liking or disliking—it simply gave him no "feeling" at all.
The first time he smoked one—specifically, the Filgaret made from Joseph’s emotions—it had been an overwhelming experience.
The emotions of Joseph, conveyed through the smoke...
The remarkable thing was that it wasn’t just a fragment of an emotion, but rather Joseph’s accumulated feelings and memories from his entire life. Oliver could indirectly but vividly feel them all.
He didn’t know how it worked, but for that moment, as he smoked the Filgaret, he could understand Joseph.
The intense waves of emotion that surged within him gave Oliver an indescribable sense of awe and joy.
It was as if he were truly alive...
But with this Filgaret, he couldn’t feel any of that.
The method of manufacture wasn’t the problem—it was simply the material.
Inevitably, his gaze shifted to his clothes.
Inside his coat, there were two Filgarets made from the beautiful light he had extracted from Duncan.
Two of them, no less.
For a moment, he was tempted. Should he smoke one now?
He had two, after all. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to smoke just one? Just one...
"......."
In silence, Oliver wrestled with his thoughts.
Just as he was about to make a decision, a loud ringing interrupted his thoughts.
Drrrrrring!
The alarm clock went off.
The sharp, high-pitched sound snapped Oliver back to his senses.
"...!"
The small hammer of the clock struck the giant bells on either side. Oliver rubbed the area between his eyes as he regained his focus.
He hadn’t been sleeping well since finishing Edith's job, and it seemed the fatigue was catching up with him.
Click.
Oliver turned off the alarm, then donned his gloves and mask again and retrieved the corpses that had been soaking in the preservative liquid.
Using a hooked tool with a handle, he carefully lifted the bodies out of the tank without piercing them, laying them down on a waterproof tarp he had prepared in advance.
All three corpses.
Oliver examined them along with his notes.
There were no spots where the preservative liquid hadn’t soaked in, and there were no visible traces of blood or other residues.
When he pressed on the bodies with his fingers, they had the firmness described in his notes.
Everything was going smoothly.
Once they had dried, Oliver carefully placed the corpses back into the tank.
Then, glancing briefly at the coat that held the Duncan-Filgarets, he pushed the raging temptation aside.
"Yeah, just hold out a little longer. There’ll be a better time for this."
...
After spending several hours processing the corpses, Oliver changed into his regular clothes instead of his suit and stepped outside.
He wasn’t going to work this time, and besides, wearing a suit to his next destination would have drawn too much attention.
His destination was a gym located deep inside District X.
As Joe had mentioned, it was easy to find once he got close.
The gym stood out—a run-down building that looked like a warehouse, with a low ceiling and wide layout, like a sliced loaf of bread. It was patched with all sorts of junk, making it look shabby beyond measure...
Inside, several men were exercising in nothing but their running shorts.
Most of them were muscular and looked like they made their living through violence.
Joe had arranged to meet him here, and it seemed like the perfect place for him.
"Hey, who are you? You don’t look like you belong here."
Someone spoke to him. Oliver turned toward the voice and saw a bald man.
The man was short enough that Oliver had to look down at him, but his shoulders were broad, and his body was thick. His arms, in particular, looked as solid as stone.
He stared at Oliver with eyes as hard as his arms.
"Hey, I asked who you are."
"Hello. My name is Dave. I’m here to meet someone."
"Heh... Polite, aren’t you? I didn’t know this place had become a meeting spot for appointments."
"I’m sorry. Joe asked to meet me here."
The man’s expression changed slightly, showing a hint of surprise.
"Joe? You mean the guy with the messy hair, always with a sullen face, who wears knuckles when he kills people?"
"Uh... Yes, that should be him. He’s also known as Knuckle Joe."
"Then that’s him! ...But what’s your relationship with Joe? You don’t look like a friend. Did he shake you down or something?"
The bald man smirked as he asked.
"Uh... Are you joking?"
"Hah! You’ve got guts. Yeah, it was a joke. Alright, follow me. I’ll take you to him."
The man grinned, showing his teeth, and gestured for Oliver to follow him into the gym.
Oliver complied, stepping inside.
The air inside was thick with the scent of sweat, like steam.
"Aaaargh!"
"Idiot! Punch properly, you loser!"
"One. One. One."
"Count properly, you bastard...!"
"Don’t stop, keep hitting it! If you lose again, I’ll dismantle you and sell you off."
The sounds of metal clanging, wind being cut, and sandbags being struck filled the space.
Everywhere, people were swearing and fiercely training...
It was like a battle in itself, with everyone furiously going at it.
Oliver was taken aback by the scene before him.
"Wow! Everyone’s really fired up, huh? Heh heh."
Several of the people working out glanced toward the bald man and greeted him.
"Ah, you’re here, sir."
"Yeah, my boys can’t stand taking a day off."
The bald man flexed his biceps and kissed them as he answered.
"But, who’s this guy? He looks like a wimp."
"I just met him earlier, so I’m not sure. But he said he was here to meet Joe."
"Joe? Didn’t he quit shaking people down ages ago?"
"Beats me... Oh, there he is."
The bald man pointed to a corner of the gym where Joe was punching a sandbag.
With every punch, a loud noise echoed throughout the space.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Pure physical strength, without the use of black magic.
Just as Oliver had sensed, Joe was strong enough even without using black magic.
Joe increased his speed with a unique footwork, delivering a powerful blow to the sandbag.
Boom!
With a loud sound that resonated through the gym, a hole was torn in the sandbag, and sand poured out.
Some of the onlookers smiled in admiration.
The bald man, seemingly deciding that Joe had finished his workout, called out to him.
"Joe!"
Drenched in sweat and shirtless, Joe turned his head.
"You’re paying for that!"
"Yes, sir."
"And there’s a guest here to see you."
Guest. At that word, Joe finally noticed Oliver standing next to the bald man.
Looking surprised, Joe checked his watch and then rushed over, asking,
"Why are you here so early...?"
"You told me to come once I finished my urgent tasks, didn’t you?"
While Oliver remained calm and composed, Joe’s attitude was cautious. In fact, he was even speaking awkwardly in polite speech.
This seemed to shock the people around them, but what happened next left them even more astonished.
"And there’s no need to speak so formally."
"But I need to show proper respect..."
"I’m just someone helping for a while. Nothing more, nothing less... Oh, thank you for your help, sir."
Oliver bowed slightly, lowering himself to meet the bald man’s eye level.
The bald man, looking surprised, turned to Joe and asked,
"Who is he?"