Chapter 406: Milieu (3)
Oliver spoke, calmly and quietly, asking for an apology.
At his words, Lucien's guards, as well as other members of the organization who were sitting quietly in the corner observing the situation, burst into laughter.
It was as if they were witnessing a trivial mishap.
The only ones not laughing were the people who came with Oliver: Murphy, Murphy's aunt Maggie, his cousin Morrison, the disguised Yareli, the guards, and Jane.
What they all had in common was that they were from Landa and were aware of Oliver's reputation, as well as his temperament.
This was not a matter to laugh about. Not at all.
Noticing the shift in Murphy’s attitude, Lucien stopped laughing and spoke.
"Ah… My apologies. My hearing's not great. What did you say just now?"
"I asked you for an apology, Sir Lucien."
"An apology?"
"Yes."
Oliver responded in the exact same tone, with the same inflection and atmosphere as before.
So identical that it almost felt as if a machine were speaking instead of a person.
The eerie sensation inexplicably grated on people’s nerves. It was uncomfortable, unsettling, and at the same time, somewhat chilling…
As the strangely tense atmosphere began to take hold, Lucien burst into laughter once more, this time with his usual brazen cheerfulness.
"Hahaha! Now this is a surprise. How long has it been since someone demanded an apology from me? You're quite amusing."
"Thank you for the compliment. I'm glad to hear you find me entertaining."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I try to be entertaining by reading humor books for 30 minutes every day before bed... But, this time, I'm not joking. I’m asking for an apology."
"And why should I do that?"
"Because it's the polite thing to do. If you’ve caused offense, then it’s only natural to apologize."
"I can't listen to this anymore... Murphy, what on earth are you doing letting your underling say such things? Or is there some other intention here?"
The woman who had instigated the incident demanded an answer from Murphy. Her statement wasn’t incorrect, as Oliver was indeed employed by Murphy. In that sense, it was presumptuous of him to speak.
Murphy knew this and was about to intervene, but then reconsidered.
The judgment that had elevated him to the position of Liquor King in Landa dictated that he stay silent.
Instead, it was Jane, who felt insulted, who stepped forward to stop Oliver.
She tried to intervene with a strained smile.
"Um… It’s fine, really."
Surprisingly, Oliver, who had been standing there like a statue, reacted to her words and turned his head.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes."
"Despite the fact that the efforts and accomplishments of Miss Jane and your fellow Sisterhood members have been insulted, you're saying it’s okay?"
Oliver asked Jane again if she was truly fine. He already knew it was a lie, but if she said it was okay again, he would back down.
It was her choice, after all.
Jane seemed to instinctively realize the weight of her response and hesitated.
"I…"
"What are you going to do if you're not okay?"
In the midst of Jane and Oliver’s conversation, the woman interrupted.
She wasn’t just trying to provoke; she was genuinely angry with Oliver, likely finding him insolent.
"I asked, what are you going to do if I don't apologize?"
She leaned in close, bringing her face right up to Oliver's.
Oliver answered.
"Hmm… I haven't thought that far."
"What?"
"I thought if I politely asked and explained why, you might offer an apology."
"Aha… You're completely insane, aren't you?"
"A few people have said that to me in the past. Though I don’t know why... May I ask what it would take for you to apologize, miss?"
Oliver asked, and the woman before him displayed a deep sense of displeasure, as if she’d been insulted.
"Did you just call me 'miss'?"
"Uh… Yes, because you’re a miss."
"…Would you like me to tell you what it would take for me to apologize?"
"If you would, I’d be grateful."
"Father?"
The woman glanced at Lucien, who, after calculating the situation in his head, nodded.
Having received the answer, the woman spoke.
"We'll settle this according to Gallos tradition… If you win, I’ll give you the apology you want. How about that?"
"Oh, what do I have to do?"
"Hmph… Hey! Bring a sword!"
...
The woman shouted for a sword and then handed it over to Oliver, proposing a duel.
She explained that it was an old tradition in Gallos.
"Strictly speaking, it’s a defunct tradition."
"How long has it been defunct?"
Oliver examined the longsword he was handed, asking Murphy.
Though he didn’t know much about swords, it seemed like an ordinary one. It was hard, cold, and sharp.
"It's been about 50 years, I think. It disappeared when the nobility’s culture was swept away during the revolution."
"Oh, dear. How troublesome."
Maggie, watching from a distance, murmured softly at Murphy’s casual explanation.
It was understandable. They had presumably come to negotiate the price of magical liquor, only to suddenly find themselves in the middle of a battlefield.
By now, members of the Myra Family had gathered around, which was evidence enough.
In the worst-case scenario, lives could be lost, and even if that didn’t happen, they would likely suffer significant losses in future dealings.
Yet, despite this, the head of the organization—the person responsible for the incident—was helping his daughter put on her gauntlet and answering questions, which made Maggie’s reaction quite understandable.
Oliver apologized.
"...I'm sorry, Murphy. I’ve caused a problem despite being hired by you."
"I do regret not hiring Dave the Fixer instead, but there's no helping it now. Ultimately, it was my decision to hire you, Mr. Zenon. Don't worry about it."
"Thank you for your kind words."
"However, may I consider that you owe me a favor?"
Murphy suddenly changed his tone as he spoke. It was impressive how he wasn’t fixated on the fact that things had gone awry, and was instead trying to gain something from it.
Oliver responded with genuine admiration.
"Of course."
"I'm glad to hear that. In that case, let me ask you—do you know how to handle a sword?"
Murphy looked at the sword in Oliver's hand, which was being held rather haphazardly. From his grip alone, it was clear he wasn’t familiar with swords.
"I use them when preparing meals."
"And aside from that?"
"Not really."
"You're not allowed to use magic or black magic; you can only strengthen your body and weapon with magical power. Are you okay with that?"
"Well, in my opinion—"
"-Hey, are you not done getting ready yet?"
The woman called out to Oliver, interrupting his conversation with Murphy.
She was now wearing a corset-style armor and gauntlets, and holding a thick-bladed rapier in one hand.
It seemed she was a skilled magical power user, as magic flowed intricately through her sword and armor.
‘Is this how it's done?’
Oliver used the magical power stored in his body to infuse the longsword, just as he had done with his tonfas in the past.
"Be careful. While you might not be familiar with black magic, that woman, Sara, is quite well-known among the Milieu. She's called Mad Sara because of her aggressive nature."
Oliver stared at Sara intently.
"She doesn’t seem like a madwoman."
Oliver offered his honest opinion. Though her actions were rough, she was similar to Lucien in that there was more than met the eye.
"Is that so? In any case, be cautious. Her surprise dagger attacks can be quite deadly."
"Thank you for the advice."
Oliver responded as he walked forward to the cleared area prepared for the fight, standing opposite Sara.
When he stepped up, the members of the Myra Family, who had come to watch, cheered and shouted in Gallosian, telling Sara to teach the arrogant Landa man a lesson.
The hall quickly became rowdy.
Amid the uproar, Sara swung her sword in the air and asked.
"What's your specialty? I don’t know what kind of nerve you’ve got, but judging by how confidently you were talking, you must have some skill."
Oliver looked at the longsword in his hand. It was indeed an ordinary sword, a sharp blade of steel.
"I know a little black magic. And magic too."
"A dabbler in both, huh? Judging by your grip, you don’t look like you’ve ever handled a sword... Are you sure you're okay?"
"Actually, not really."
"Huh?"
"I don’t particularly like swords. They’re too sharp… It’s unsettling because they can cut things unintentionally."
Pop━!!
As soon as Oliver finished speaking, Sara channeled the magical power flowing through her body into her legs, pushing off the ground and closing the distance in an instant.
It was a technique he’d seen before. Though slightly different, it was similar to what the Flesh Chef’s apprentices had used.
Quite fascinating. It wasn’t surprising that the Milieu and the Flesh Chef faction shared similar techniques… In any case, in the blink of an eye, Sara closed the gap and aimed her rapier at Oliver’s shoulder, intending to strike in one swift motion—
—Thwack! … Thud.
"Like this," Oliver said, having swung the sword with just one arm, in a stance that appeared unsuitable for wielding a blade.
Despite the seemingly awkward movement, Sara’s rapier had been cleanly severed in two.
The once-boisterous hall fell silent as if doused with water, and Sara, stunned, could only widen her eyes in disbelief, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Amidst the room's astonishment, Oliver alone maintained his composure. He looked at the blade and muttered with a hint of unease.
"It's definitely too sharp."
"What… what did you do just now?" Sara stammered.
"I deflected your attack. Or at least, that was my intention," Oliver replied, pointing to the neatly sliced rapier. "It’s fortunate it was just a sword; otherwise, I might have caused unintended harm."
"Are you expecting me to believe that?"
"I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm simply stating the facts… That being said, could you offer the apology now? I believe I won."
"How dare you…!"
As Sara reached for the dagger on her belt, Oliver swung his longsword again, slicing the dagger in half with the same casual, one-armed motion.
The dagger was cut cleanly, sending a shiver through the hall.
With the situation taking a grim turn, the members of the Myra Family stood up one by one, drawing weapons ranging from swords and axes to maces and modified guns.
Naturally, Murphy's group huddled together, preparing to defend themselves.
"Why is everyone acting like this?" Oliver asked, puzzled.
"After you caused all this trouble, you’re seriously asking that?" Sara demanded, her face displaying a mix of anger, fear, and unease. Among her conflicting emotions, Oliver detected a particular truth.
"So… you never intended to keep your word from the beginning," he remarked.
Oliver hadn't been able to sense this earlier since Sara had never considered the possibility of losing. Now, however, her true intentions were clear; she never planned on keeping her promise.
"If you so much as lay a finger on me, everyone here will retaliate," Sara warned, pointing to the Myra Family members surrounding them. They were all skilled magical power users, and their abilities were formidable.
Oliver considered the situation for a moment before asking, "Hmm, I didn’t expect this… If I were to kill everyone here, what would happen?"
"...What?" Sara blurted out.
"You seem unwilling to apologize because of the people here. So, if I were to kill them all, what would happen?"
Though spoken in a calm tone, the content of Oliver's words was anything but calm.
The Myra Family members erupted in anger at being dismissed so easily, leveling their weapons at him, while Sara’s expression twisted with rage—never before had she experienced such a humiliation.
"In Milieu, you—"
"—Please answer my question. If I kill everyone here, what will happen?" Oliver asked again, using the same unvarying tone and inflection. The only difference was the shift in atmosphere.
The inexplicable tension radiating from him was impossible for even the fierce Milieu members to ignore.
The oppressive silence deepened, with tension stretching thin throughout the hall.
Just as Oliver prepared to move, interpreting the silence as his answer, a man spoke urgently.
"My apologies."
The man who spoke was none other than Lucien Myra, a prominent figure within the Milieu and the boss of the Myra Family.
He apologized to Oliver respectfully and then gave orders to his subordinates.
"Put your weapons away… I said, put them away."
Lucien, now speaking with a gravity far removed from the casual demeanor he displayed when greeting Murphy, seemed utterly sincere. It was as if this was his true nature all along.
After disarming his subordinates, Lucien spoke.
“…I realize now I didn’t even ask for your name. What should I call you?"
"I’m Zenon, for now."
"Zenon, huh? An interesting name."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"...In any case, I apologize. It’s our tactic to provoke and unsettle our opponents before negotiations, but it seems we went too far this time. There are some people you just shouldn’t provoke. I sincerely apologize once more."
It was a genuine apology, but Oliver didn’t feel fully satisfied.
"The apology should be directed toward Miss Jane, not me," Oliver said.
Without hesitation, Lucien turned to apologize to Jane, despite Sara stepping forward to intervene.
"Father—"
—Smack!
Lucien slapped Sara across the face and spoke firmly.
"Stay out of this."
His stern words silenced Sara, and Lucien proceeded to offer a courteous apology to Jane.
"Miss Jane, I am deeply sorry. Please forgive my rudeness and my daughter's behavior. If you could be so kind as to accept my apology, I would forever be in your debt."
He tapped his forehead lightly as he spoke, demonstrating an almost excessive level of humility for someone of his stature in Milieu.
Jane responded.
"Thank you for your words. I accept your apology."
"Your graciousness is greatly appreciated."
After receiving her response, Lucien looked at Oliver as if to confirm there were no further issues.
"Thank you for the apology… Originally, I came here as a bodyguard, but I unintentionally caused a disturbance," Oliver said, glancing around at the people in the hall. They all seemed bewildered by the situation.
It was as if they couldn’t comprehend why Lucien, a man who had survived the rough world of Milieu and the tumultuous Gallos, would bend his pride to apologize, nor could they grasp who Oliver truly was to warrant such deference.
"Hmm… I think it’s best if I take my leave now. What do you think?" Oliver asked Murphy.
Murphy, though still tense, nodded with a hint of curiosity and amusement at the unfolding events.
When Oliver asked if Murphy would accompany him, he declined.
"I still need to finish the negotiation."
"Understood… And Miss Jane?"
"I’ll stay here as well. After all, I’m here for work."
Oliver nodded in understanding. She, like Murphy and himself, was here to do her job.
After bidding farewell to Lucien, Murphy, and Jane, Oliver left.
He departed with a level of politeness and care that seemed almost unfathomable, considering he was the one who had so boldly demanded an apology earlier.
Yareli, who had concealed his face with camouflage magic, also followed Oliver out, and as they exited, the commotion in the hall slowly faded away, as if a spell had been broken, replaced by murmurs throughout the room.
It was as if everyone had been bewitched by a ghost.
As the crowd struggled to comprehend the situation, Lucien and Murphy, the only ones who seemed to understand, exchanged a few words.
"I don’t know who that man is, but he doesn’t seem like your subordinate. Can you tell me who he is?"
"And what will I get in return?"
"If you introduce him, I’ll agree to the terms you suggested for the magical liquor negotiation."