Chapter 433: Permission (1)
Oliver's request to meet Forest.
Al quickly regained his composure and returned to his usual self, agreeing to bring Forest.
"I’ll guide you to the office first. The boss is on the third floor, but could you please wait a moment?"
The third floor... Oliver glanced at the stairs leading up. Unlike the first and second floors, which could be considered a single large hall, the third floor was completely separated and divided into rooms for private conversations.
"The third floor... What is Mr. Forest doing?"
"...He's attending to guests."
Al hesitated for a moment before answering. Oliver grew curious, wondering what kind of hospitality was taking place in those third-floor rooms.
"Mr. Al?"
"Yes, Mr. Dave?"
"Would it be alright if I also went up to the third floor?"
"Pardon?"
"I've never been up there before. I'm curious."
...
Thankfully, Al agreed to Oliver’s request.
Though he initially seemed troubled, he eventually decided to guide him after briefly looking at Oliver's face.
Feeling a bit guilty for causing some inconvenience, Oliver didn’t regret it. Thanks to this, he got to see the third floor of Forest's restaurant and meet Forest himself.
"Dave?"
Forest, who had been talking with guests in the largest room on the third floor, noticed Oliver and spoke.
A mixture of emotions flickered across his face.
Surprise, confusion, doubt, concern, and curiosity.
Forest was shocked by Oliver’s sudden appearance, confused by his sunken cheeks, wondering what had happened, and simultaneously worried.
The curiosity was about why Oliver had come straight here.
Al looked uncomfortable.
Standing behind Al, Oliver glanced around at the guests in the room.
Most seemed to be people who had accumulated considerable wealth in Landa, but unfortunately, he didn’t recognize any of them—except for one person: the city’s Minister of Internal Affairs, Paul Carver, sitting in the corner.
Despite being the youngest person present, Carver was the first to greet Oliver without showing any signs of agitation.
"Hello, Mr. Dave."
"Hello, Mr. Carver. It's been a while."
"Yes, it really has."
Carver responded calmly, then alternated his gaze between Oliver and Forest before coming to his own conclusion and standing up.
"But unfortunately, the meal is over, so I believe it's time for me to leave. Don’t you all agree?"
Carver said this while looking at a half-eaten meat pie in front of him—a blatant lie.
Nevertheless, the other guests all stood up. Though most were twice Carver's age, they couldn’t refuse his suggestion.
"This meat pie is quite delicious. I'll be back next time."
As Carver passed by Oliver, he greeted him, and the other guests followed like ducklings, exiting the room one by one.
This left only three people in the room: Forest, the restaurant owner; Al, the waiter; and Oliver, the unexpected guest.
An awkward silence fell.
Al was the first to break it.
"...I’m sorry, sir."
Oliver shook his head.
"No, it's because I insisted on coming. Whatever it is, it’s my fault."
Then, Forest shook his head.
"No... The fault is mine for not anticipating your visit, Dave."
As Oliver nodded with satisfaction at this friendly display of mutual apologies, Al closed his eyes gently, and Forest shook his head as if he had given up on something.
“Sigh... Al, you’ve done well guiding Dave. You may go now.”
Following Forest's words, Al bowed politely, also giving Oliver a slight nod before leaving the room.
After Al closed the door, Forest poured a drink into a glass and spoke.
"I thought you were in Gallos."
"I just arrived."
"I've been getting real-time updates on Laville through an information broker there... Did you come back alone, by any chance?"
"Yes, I didn’t have much else to do, and I happened to hear some news that caught my interest."
Forest took a sip from his glass.
"Let me guess. Is it because of the redevelopment project in District X?"
Oliver nodded. He hadn’t expected Forest to get straight to the point, but it wasn’t a bad thing.
"Yes, I heard about it from Miss Jane. She said it was related to me. Could you tell me what’s going on?"
"Of course. But since this might be a long conversation, why don’t you have a seat?"
At Forest's suggestion, Oliver gladly took a seat.
"Um, would it be alright if I ate some of this food? I'm quite hungry."
He pointed to a partially eaten veal steak. It was left behind by the previous guest. Forest looked at Oliver’s gaunt face and shook his head.
"You do seem hungry... I'll have something fresh brought out."
"No, this is fine. It would be a shame to waste it, wouldn’t it?"
At Oliver’s insistence, Forest gave his permission, and Oliver picked up a knife and fork, cutting into the steak.
It was quite an unusual sight. His eating manners were impeccably neat, yet there was a powerful sense of hunger emanating from him.
He seemed like a beast in a suit—there was an odd, almost primal intensity about him.
"I heard there was a big disturbance in Gallos... Did something happen?"
Forest asked cautiously, and Oliver hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not to talk about his fight with the flesh chef and the conversation they had shared.
Maybe he could. Forest was one of the few people who knew Oliver’s real name and face.
Oliver had wanted to confide in him about the strange discomfort and unease that had been bothering him.
However, he couldn’t. Even he couldn’t clearly explain why he was feeling this way.
Asking for advice on a condition he didn’t fully understand seemed ridiculous.
Deciding to focus on the original reason he came here, Oliver explained that during the unrest in Laville, he had been affected by a weakening-type black magic spell related to disease, resulting in his current state.
"I do feel hungry, but it’s manageable. There’s no need to worry."
Forest seemed doubtful upon hearing the explanation.
Knowing Oliver's abilities, it was hard to believe. Still, Forest refrained from pressing him further out of consideration.
“I’ll arrange for a sacred artifact from the Pater Church. If it’s black magic, a holy item should be able to cure it.”
Oliver nodded. He wasn’t in critical danger, but the persistent hunger was bothersome, constantly reminding him of the flesh chef.
“Thank you... It’s kind of funny. A black magician like me trying to break free from black magic using a sacred item.”
“Well, officially, you’re also affiliated with the Tower of Magic… By the way, did you come all the way up to the third floor just to tell me this?”
It was a signal to get back to the main topic. Oliver shook his head.
“No, I was curious about the third floor and wanted to ask you about the District X redevelopment I mentioned earlier… Were the guests here involved in that?”
As he asked, Oliver placed the last piece of veal steak in his mouth and chewed it.
After finishing the plate, he set it aside and started on the other dish. It was delicious.
“They weren’t exactly involved. A more accurate description would be that they’re interested.”
“...?”
“They are the heads of mid-sized construction companies in Landa, who came after hearing rumors that I’d acquired the right to redevelop District X. It’s a misunderstanding.”
“...You didn’t start a redevelopment project?”
“It’s just a rumor. I haven’t begun anything. I don’t even have the authority.”
“Then...?”
“Do you remember the multi-family housing you bought in District X? Where Miss Mari and her people stay?”
“Yes.”
“And the Fighter Crew. They’ve been repairing the homes there as you requested, which is what started the rumors. People jumped to conclusions since work was being done in District X.”
“Oh...”
Oliver couldn’t help but sigh. So, it was as he suspected.
“Oh... I’m sorry, Mr. Forest. Because of me, you’ve been dragged into an unwanted redevelopment matter... I apologize for the trouble.”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Pardon?”
“I am interested in redevelopment.”
...
The dark night...
A small boat sailed over the Sem River, which runs through the vast city of Landa.
Onboard stood Oliver, holding a quarterstaff in one hand and a bag containing a meat pie and a bottle of wine in the other.
He recalled Forest's words.
“I’m very interested in redevelopment. In a city like Landa, who wouldn’t be interested in making money? And I’m not the only one. The Fighter Crew and even the chosen ones feel the same.”
Forest had said that both the Fighter Crew and the chosen ones were interested in redeveloping District X.
The reason was, of course, money.
“Well, Knuckle Joe has other reasons besides money.”
“Other reasons besides money?”
“It might sound silly, but yes. He, along with the other residents of District X, share a common dream. To leave behind the harsh environment of District X and move to a more livable place. It’s not strange. There aren’t many who’d choose to live in a place where you could get shot while walking down the street. Especially if you have a family to care for.”
Oliver understood what he meant. Joe, like others in District X, belonged to a community and had family to protect.
“However, moving is practically difficult. The financial burden is the biggest challenge, but there are other factors too. Some have become accustomed to life in District X against their will, or they’ve developed a strange attachment to it. Then there’s the fear of starting over elsewhere. So, what do they dream of?”
Oliver shook his head, unable to relate to the sentiment and having no guesses. Normally, he would have brushed it off, but for some reason, he felt a strange bitterness.
“They want to change the place they live in. To transform District X itself into a more livable area... Though it’s an almost impossible dream, they still hold onto it.”
Oliver nodded silently, understanding the idea on a superficial level.
“Then, what about Mari and the chosen ones? They’re outsiders.”
“They’re in it for the money. Specifically, to fund the community. During a previous conversation, she mentioned that they suffered significant losses during a paladin attack, and their main business—Filgaret production—has been temporarily suspended. It was done to avoid causing trouble for you. I think it was a smart move, especially during the current chaos in Landa. But even though they managed to hold onto some assets, those funds will eventually run out. A stagnant well eventually dries up. So, they see redevelopment as a way to secure legitimate funding.”
It was a motive Oliver could understand. At that moment, Forest pulled out some papers from inside his jacket and handed them over.
They were a project plan and a business registration application.
“The redevelopment project plan and business registration for District X. Take a look.”
“...The representative’s name is missing?”
Oliver asked, noticing the blank space next to Forest's name on the registration form.
“That spot is for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, for you. This redevelopment project can’t proceed without you. You’re the one who negotiated and secured permission from the Development Opposition Committee. Without you, it’s just an unrealistic fantasy.”
Forest then explained various details about the project, including the initial funds he could mobilize.
Even to Oliver, who didn’t know much about business, it sounded fairly convincing.
There were many interested investors, and even the city’s business support department and banks were showing interest, willing to provide substantial support and loans.
After all, it was a project to develop an undeveloped area.
Forest also outlined the salary for the CEO position and other privileges that would come with it.
“Of course, this might not be particularly important to you... So, are you interested?”
Oliver couldn’t answer right away. He had come to find out what the redevelopment in District X was all about, nothing more. He hadn’t thought beyond that.
It didn’t seem like a bad idea, though. The pay was good, and with his mind feeling muddled lately, taking on a different task might help him refocus.
On the other hand, it also seemed unappealing. He already had enough money, and the project seemed like a lot of work. He was looking for something to occupy his time, not something overwhelming.
Moreover, there was something else that weighed on his mind...
Oliver suddenly realized how arbitrary he could be.
In the end, Oliver asked Forest for some time to think it over, saying there were things he needed to check before making a decision. Forest graciously agreed.
...
“Hmph... We’re almost there! Watch your step!”
The boat’s captain, Old Man Noah, called out to Oliver, snapping him out of his thoughts.
It was the same old man who had ferried him to Zone Z last time. His tone and manner were noticeably softer this time around.
Oliver wondered if this shift had something to do with the old man’s expectations.
Chug-chug-chug.
As they approached Zone Y, the boat slowed down and gradually came to a stop.
The muddy ground and scattered heaps of trash along the riverbank were just as Oliver remembered, as if time had stood still.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright going alone?”
Old Man Noah asked gruffly, his tone laced with concern as he looked at Oliver’s gaunt face.
Oliver replied calmly.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. I made it back safely last time, didn’t I?”
“Just because it was safe yesterday doesn’t mean it’ll be safe today...”
Noah muttered, his worry deepening as he observed Oliver’s thin, haggard appearance, as if he had more to say.
“I think I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern... Do you have something on your mind?”
Noah hesitated before finally speaking up with difficulty.
“Well, is it really true... that the fixer can redevelop District X?”
Oliver observed Noah’s emotions. He could sense a mixture of doubt and hope.
“I don’t know for sure yet... May I ask why you’re wondering?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
Noah responded with the gruff, reserved demeanor typical of an old man. Yet, beneath that, Oliver could still feel the faint hope lingering. Even though there was doubt, Noah wanted to believe.
Oliver replied.
“I’m not sure either.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m going to ask.”
With that, Oliver stepped into Zone Y, while Old Man Noah, as if mesmerized, watched him disappear into the distance before turning the boat back toward Zone X.
Though Noah had lived many decades and encountered all kinds of people, Oliver was unlike anyone he had ever met...
As the boat vanished beyond the wide Sem River, Oliver stopped in his tracks.
“Could you come out now?”
At Oliver's request, Bartholomew, one of the elders of the Development Opposition Committee, emerged from the shadows where he had been hiding.
Though he hadn’t used black magic, Bartholomew had blended into the darkness so perfectly that both his presence and appearance were completely concealed.
The moment he revealed himself, Bartholomew raised his quarterstaff, made of flesh, and attacked Oliver lightly as a form of greeting. Oliver responded by swinging his own quarterstaff to meet the blow.
In the quiet night, the sound of air being split and the deafening clash of quarterstaffs filled the air, leaving deep scars on the ground with each impact.
After exchanging several rounds of blows...
Bartholomew and Oliver swung their quarterstaffs toward each other, causing a tremendous sound upon collision.
━━━!
The indescribable sound echoed as both men were pushed back, their feet scraping the ground.
“Your skills have improved greatly, great one...”
“Is that so?”
Oliver answered casually, his mind still a little clouded from everything that had happened. Perhaps it was thanks to his close combat training in Gallos and his fight with the flesh chef.
“Did you know I was coming?”
“I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was informed that you would come someday.”
“Oh... And who told you that?”
“The great being spoke to me.”
“...”
Oliver fell silent, still unsure of what to make of such words. Bartholomew seized the opportunity to speak first.
“What brings you here today?”
Oliver suddenly remembered the reason for his visit. There were still many things he wanted to ask Bartholomew, but those questions would have to wait for another time, as too many unresolved doubts lingered in his mind.
He wasn’t in the mood to add more confusion to his already overwhelmed thoughts.
“I came to ask... No, to seek your permission for something.”
“The great one doesn’t need permission from us.”
“...Do you remember when I came here last time?”
“I do. You came to ask if you could repair the new home for the great one’s followers.”
Oliver hesitated for a moment. It was similar, but not exactly right.
Instead of correcting Bartholomew, Oliver chose to move the conversation along. Correcting everything would take forever.
“Yes... It’s not certain yet, but I was wondering if I could redevelop other buildings in District X as well.”
“Do as you please, great one. As I said before, no matter what you do, we will not interfere.”
Bartholomew answered without hesitation. In truth, Oliver had half-expected a rejection... His easy acceptance left Oliver unsure how to respond.
“Oh... Thank you for your kindness... Here, take this. I didn’t think it would be proper to come empty-handed, so I brought something.”
Oliver handed over the bag in his hand, which contained the meat pie and wine he had ordered from Forest’s restaurant.
Bartholomew, in contrast to his usual solemn demeanor, carefully and respectfully accepted the bag.
“Thank you for the gift.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you... May I ask you a question?”
Oliver suddenly spoke. It was only natural. The thoughts that had been weighing on him finally spilled out.
Bartholomew graciously agreed, and Oliver explained the conversation he had with the flesh chef, omitting the details about the chef himself and focusing on the content of the conversation.
Bartholomew listened with utmost seriousness, and once Oliver finished, he asked.
“Does this great being... have anything to do with that conversation?”
It was an unplanned, sudden question. But Oliver felt satisfied, as if he had scratched an itch that had been bothering him. However, Bartholomew’s answer didn’t provide the same relief.
“I’m sorry, but as I said before, that is not something we, in our humble state, are allowed to discuss.”
The same answer as before. Yet, unlike before, it irritated Oliver slightly. It felt like an unsatisfied hunger, an itch that couldn’t be scratched, a tiredness that couldn’t be relieved.
Oliver asked.
“Then when will I be able to find out?”
“When the sky darkens with shadow, and the undeniable will of the gods descends, you will know. Whether you wish to or not.”
Bartholomew's answer wasn’t just an explanation. It felt more like a prophecy.