Chapter 590: The Monster that Devours Everything (5)
By chance or fate, Jane and Oliver shared the same objective.
Rescue the children trapped in Neverland.
Their individual motivations might have differed, but that mattered little. What was significant wasn’t the reason—they acted, and that alone was enough.
After using Ptah’s Assistant to provide first aid for his dagger wound, Oliver mounted the Mimic-Wolf, modeled after Red Hood’s wolf creature. Surrounded by his escorts—Flesh Chef, Durance the corpse puppet, and Bathory—he moved forward.
The journey itself was not difficult. In less than a month, Jane had managed to map the island’s terrain indirectly and pointed Oliver in the right direction.
All Oliver had to do was issue commands to follow her guidance—a skill beyond his own capabilities. Yet Jane’s knowledge extended even further, covering the dangers and specific traits of each path.
“Oh, we’re nearing the Red-Skinned Creatures’ domain. The Reds appear regularly here, and the traps are—”
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Before Jane could finish, Durance fired his gun into a suspicious area, destroying both traps and the covers concealing hidden creatures.
Rattle! Thud!
“Kyahahaha!”
Screeech... Bang!
“Aaaghh!”
Traps triggered mid-air, and as the covers fell away, various creatures burst out, shrieking.
But this posed no threat. Flesh Chef, bolstered by the embedded Force within him, was already on the move. He seemed to have grown accustomed to his body mid-battle, for he sprang forward with flawless movement...
Tap.
...plunging into the midst of the creatures and releasing an explosion of emotions stored within him, unleashing massive slashes in every direction. The creatures were instantly torn apart.
The display was rough but devastatingly powerful.
The remains of the swept-away creatures testified to the strength of his blows.
‘Now I understand how Flesh Chef once ruled Gallos’s underworld,’ thought Oliver, watching Flesh Chef’s prowess anew.
While Flesh Chef wasn’t weak in one-on-one combat, his strength truly shone against a multitude of lesser foes. The traits of his disease-type black magic and his body’s immense power were obvious.
‘And even more...’
Flesh Chef absorbed the remains of the slain creatures as nourishment, replenishing energy beyond what he’d spent moments earlier, despite suffering heavy damage.
In hindsight, their one-on-one fight in Gallos may have been a stroke of luck. With his disease-type powers bolstered by a violent extraction ability, Flesh Chef would only have become even stronger when facing numerous foes.
‘If he possesses such abilities yet restrains himself, then perhaps...’
Oliver was briefly lost in thought but shook his head, refocusing on the scene.
Durance adjusted his weapons as needed, sniping distant creatures and destroying both traps and barriers while Flesh Chef cleared nearby threats in close combat.
The battles were brief—usually over in less than a breath.
Given the quality of these corpse puppets, this was unsurprising. One was a former dean of Roculi University, and the other, a high-ranking Finger.
‘Plus, First hasn’t even moved yet. This means they’re well in control.’
Assessing the situation, Oliver turned to Jane.
“Miss Jane.”
“Oh... Yes!” Jane snapped back to reality, momentarily awed by the power of the corpse puppets.
“Could you finish the explanation?”
Nodding, Jane resumed her calm narrative as they moved swiftly atop the wolf-creature. It wasn’t an urgent matter—just information Jane had gleaned during her stay in Neverland.
Details about Neverland’s nature, Wendy’s role, Pan’s children, those who replaced them when one went missing, the warehouse where they kept these forgotten children, and the diary she found there...
“So... the diary belongs to Pan?”
“Yes, I think so. Given that the warehouse and, really, the entire island seem to belong to Pan, it’s likely his.”
Oliver nodded at her simple but sharp insight, agreeing with her logic.
“Hmm...”
“Sorry if I’m rambling.”
“No, I asked. And it’s actually helpful. So, thank you; no need to apologize. Thanks to you, I’ve made up my mind.”
Though she didn’t know what he’d decided, Jane didn’t inquire. They had come upon a massive tree-creature blocking their path.
Screeeech!!!
It was a monstrous tree hung with sacks resembling human figures, twisted together into a towering wall that blocked the party’s way.
The description “wall” wasn’t metaphorical—it genuinely was a grim barrier, the tree-creature’s branches tangled with what seemed to be the grudge-filled remains of people.
Grrrrrraahhh!!!
Creak, creak!
Rumble...
Creak, creak...
Cackle...
Static crackled...
Horrific moans echoed from countless faces embedded within the tree, a sight straight out of a nightmare.
Oliver sensed that Pan’s emotions had shifted.
“Force... It seems we should hurry,” he muttered.
As soon as Oliver spoke, the Force within Flesh Chef drew his leg back, gathering energy.
The concentrated power distorted the air, which compressed...
Boom!
And then exploded as Flesh Chef kicked into empty space.
It was a purely physical strike, devoid of magic or black magic. Yet the sheer force created a shockwave that shattered the massive tree-creature before them.
An unbelievable sight, even after witnessing it.
Oliver turned to the others. “We can continue our journey now.”
...
The overwhelming display of Flesh Chef’s power seemed to scare away any other creatures, and following the tree-creature’s fall, there were noticeably fewer attacks.
Taking advantage of the lull, Oliver and Jane reached Pan’s hideout, situated at the center of the forest of hanging figures.
Jane had said Pan might be there, but Oliver was unconcerned. It was a place they had to pass regardless.
If he met Pan, he’d act accordingly; if not, he’d still carry out his mission.
By chance or misfortune, the hideout, hollowed into the trunk of a colossal tree, was empty—of Pan, at least. Instead...
“An intruder! Intruder!”
“Alert! Alert!”
“Red Alert! Red Alert!”
Hostile children armed with clubs, wooden guns, toy swords, and slingshots stood guard.
There were Kervy, Slyley, Nibs, the Twins, and Tootles—all bearing the war paint of the Reds.
Oliver recognized the faces of Kervy, Slyley, and Tootles; he’d seen them briefly in Gallos and the New World.
But he’d never seen Nibs or the Twins before.
‘One of the twins was killed right after I arrived here, replaced by a new child.’
He remembered hearing that one twin had been crushed to death under a creature’s foot. That might explain why they reacted to Oliver’s presence with such fierce hostility.
While it wasn’t true hatred, their animosity was fueled by fear.
Regardless, hostility was hostility.
The children, with their faces painted for battle, pointed their toys-turned-black-magic weapons at Oliver.
Kervy and Nibs charged from both sides with clubs and toy swords, while Slyley, the Twins, and Tootles aimed their projectile weapons head-on.
Their attacks were surprisingly skillful, but before Oliver could decide how to respond, Jane stepped forward, shouting, “Stop!”
All the children froze at her command.
“W-Wendy?”
“Why are you stopping us?!”
“Yes! Step aside! We’ll teach him a lesson!”
“Yeah! Yeah!”
Driven by fear and resentment, the children raised their voices, belatedly recognizing Jane.
It was clear that they cared deeply for her.
“Mr. Dave is my guest. This behavior isn’t acceptable.”
The children’s faces twisted in confusion at her firm words.
“A-guest?”
“Yes, a guest.”
“But... he’s an adult!!” cried Slyley, who wore a fox cloak.
“Adults aren’t allowed in Neverland! Pan will be furious!”
“Kids, I’m an adult too.”
The children fell silent.
Indeed, Jane was an adult, older than the usual Wendy. Hook had commented on the rarity of it, as it was usually young girls, not women, who were taken to Neverland.
“Besides, every child eventually grows up.”
Jane’s statement was both obvious and shocking. The children’s faces hardened, a sadness beyond dislike setting in.
In Neverland, growing up meant death.
Jane turned to Oliver, apologizing for the delay with a glance.
Oliver nodded; this was something only Jane could handle.
After receiving his assurance, Jane turned back to the children, kneeling to meet their gaze.
“...Mr. Dave isn’t an enemy. He’s my friend.”
“Friend...?”
“Yes, friend.”
“But the Captain said he came to take you away! Is that true?”
“Yes, he came to take me away from here.”
The children gasped, their eyes widening in shock.
“No! No! Wendy, don’t go!”
Tootles, the youngest, threw himself into Jane’s arms, wailing.
The other children reacted similarly, clinging to her like abandoned children—as indeed they were.
Although Hook wasn’t an orphan, most of Pan’s children and the other forgotten and imprisoned children of Neverland were truly alone.
They pleaded with Jane, crying that Pan wouldn’t stand for it, that he would be angry, and that they would be heartbroken if she left them.
But Jane shook her head resolutely.
“I don’t plan to leave without you.”
“W-What...?”
“You’re coming with me.”
“Whaaat?!”
They shrieked, caught between a shout and a scream, unable to imagine leaving Neverland.
‘It’s not strange,’ Oliver mused, recalling Hook’s words.
At least on the surface, Neverland was an island made for children. It was a land of dreams and adventure, scattered with sweets, strange animals, and moderately challenging villains.
For orphans, it was simply too sweet a place to leave—like a carnivorous plant luring its prey with a sugary scent.
‘And like a carnivorous plant, it’s also a terrifying place.’
As if to reflect his thoughts, the children reacted with near-panic, shaking their heads.
“No way! W-Why would we?!”
“That’s right!”
“Neverland is for children! We’ll live here forever!”
Slyley, cloaked as a fox, shouted in denial, while Kervy, wearing a bear cloak, puffed out his chest in exaggerated praise of Neverland.
To this, Jane asked, “Do you really think so?”
“Of course! Pan created this island for us! It’s for children!!”
“For children who must act out roles daily to avoid punishment—and those who risk death if they displease Pan?”
Jane, who had been watching them carefully, asked again.
This time, they didn’t answer.
Jane continued with another question.
“And do you honestly believe it’s an island for children when, no matter how well you play along, you’re sentenced to die once you reach a certain age?”
Drawing from her conversations with the children and the horrifying truths she had learned from the Forgotten Warehouse and the diary she’d discovered, Jane voiced her discoveries.
Oliver was already aware, having learned it from Hook.
Neverland, a land for children, was a place where no adults could survive, and by extension, children who grew up could no longer stay. The age threshold fluctuated according to Pan’s whims, with the youngest being 12 and the oldest reaching 16.
Judging by this measure, Kervy and Slyley were on thin ice. The other children weren’t far behind.
The sad truth was that Kervy and Slyley also knew this.
Though they’d only have a few more years at most, they couldn’t bear the thought of leaving.
“We’re not going anywhere!!” Kervy shouted, nearly shrieking.
Unlike his usual humorous, sniffling voice, this one was dead serious.
Slyley also cried as he joined him. “Yes, we’ll live in Neverland forever! We’ll become part of Neverland!!”
“We don’t care about the outside world, and we don’t want to become useless adults!!”
The real reason the children clung to Neverland wasn’t simply because they liked it—it was the fear of the outside world, of its dangers, and the uncertainty of their own worth.
“Even if we left, there’s nothing for us out there!”
“Right, our mothers abandoned us! We have no homes! We hate orphanages! And we don’t want to become useless adults! That’s why I love Neverland!”
The children finally vented their fears.
The others nodded in silent agreement.
The real reason they refused to leave was less about love for Neverland than terror of the outside world, with its threats and lack of purpose.
“You’re just like me,” Jane murmured.
“...What?”
“You’re just like me. My mom left me, too.”
“...”
“To be exact, she sold me... for money. I pretended to be fine, but I wasn’t. Losing my home, losing the place where I belonged—it hurt. Every day, I had to endure lessons I didn’t want, just to become someone I didn’t want to be...”
Oliver and the children listened intently to Jane.
They, as black magicians, could tell she was telling the truth. Being sold by her own mother, forced to stay somewhere she didn’t want to be, and learning things she never wanted to know—it was all real.
Despite it all, she endured.
“If I didn’t, I’d become truly worthless. So, I worked hard to learn... afraid I’d be abandoned again. Still, I was terrified of becoming an adult... worried I’d turn out like my mom. I hated that idea so much. Sometimes, I wished I could escape to somewhere like Neverland... And somehow, I’ve ended up here, though maybe a little late.”
“...”
“After enduring so many difficult times, I became an adult. Do you know what I discovered?”
“...”
“At first, I became an adult I disliked, but as time went on, I became a better one. Surprisingly, even after growing up, I was still able to change.”
“But Pan told us most adults are just miserable and hopeless. Is that not true?” a child asked, his tone full of doubt.
Jane answered him honestly.
“You’re right. Most adults do have hard lives, full of disappointments. It’s incredibly difficult, with low chances of becoming the adult you want to be.”
“...”
“But if you give up on growing up, even that slim chance disappears completely. Is that really what you want? To stay children forever?”
Jane shared her thoughts with the children, recalling her conversations with them and the truths she’d uncovered.
Pan’s children may have seemed like carefree kids living day by day in Neverland, but they, too, harbored dreams—dreams every child naturally holds.
Some dreams were nonsensical, like wanting to be a dinosaur, but the important thing was that they had dreams at all.
In this so-called paradise for children, Neverland reduced those dreams to mere illusions and fantasies.
Dreams and fantasies, after all, are double-edged words—changing in meaning with a subtle shift in tone.
One thing was certain, though: if they stayed on this island, they would inevitably die.
With sadness in their voices, the children spoke up.
“But outside...”
“I’ll help you,” Jane promised.
“I can’t be your real mother, but I’ll take care of you. I’ll find you a new home. I’ll help you become adults. I’m a greedy adult, so I have plenty of money... Staying here and dying as children would be... too pitiful, don’t you think?”
The children, too stunned to answer, could only stare.
It wasn’t because they disliked the idea—they simply couldn’t believe it.
No one had ever told them anything like this before.
It was why they’d followed Pan...
As fear, dread, and resignation dimmed the children’s eyes, a flicker of hope began to emerge.
But their fear hadn’t entirely dissipated.
“...But Pan will be mad, won’t he?”
This was the strongest reason they hadn’t left Neverland.
Neverland had existed for about 30 years, and only Hook had managed to escape—and even that was because Pan had allowed it, likely to preserve Neverland.
In other words, no one else had ever succeeded in escaping.
Children likely hadn’t stayed willingly as they reached the age limit; some must have tried to flee. Those sacks hanging in the Forest of the Hanged were likely failed escapees.
Children who had outlived their purpose...
Jane looked over at Oliver.
This was something she couldn’t promise on her own.
Oliver, sensing her intent, glanced at the children, contemplating his words.
Should he say something reassuring, like he’d try his best?
No... that didn’t seem right. It would be irresponsible, especially given the current situation.
After a long, weighty silence, Oliver finally spoke.
“I’ll take care of Pan.”
The children remained unsure, still eyeing him skeptically, though Jane’s expression softened with a genuine smile, as if she were truly overjoyed.
“He’s the person I trust most in the world. Will you trust him too?”
The children gradually nodded.
...
After Jane persuaded the children, they set out to the Forgotten Warehouse at the far edge of the forest’s perimeter.
Upon arrival, they found an abandoned-looking warehouse, and Jane knocked on its door as if it were familiar.
Creeeeak...
At her knock, the Forgotten Children opened the door.
Their appearances, like their names, were neglected and forgotten, and Jane immediately spoke to them, just as she had with Pan’s children, offering them the chance to leave Neverland.
The Forgotten Children looked puzzled, as if they couldn’t quite grasp the concept of leaving Neverland.
“R-Really... it’s okay?” one child hesitantly asked, like a cow that had never ventured outside.
Jane reassured them with a gentle smile. “Of course—”
“—Of course not.”
A shrill, angry voice interrupted, just as Jane was on the verge of convincing the children.
Turning toward the sound, she saw Pan perched on a branch, with countless creatures trailing behind him.
There were toy soldiers, jolly chimps, a sack man, nutcracker dolls, boogeymen, giant teddy bears, clowns, chick-headed soldiers, chicken generals, wendigos, crawling mermaids, fish-men—the list went on. The assortment was reminiscent of Pan’s entourage in the New World, but with one difference: those creatures had embodied innocence, while these now seemed twisted into pure nightmares.
Some shift within Pan had transformed his creatures into something grotesque.
Startled by Pan’s sudden appearance, the children froze; the Forgotten Children hurried back inside, while Pan’s children stood rooted, teeth chattering.
As they stood immobilized, Oliver calmly stepped forward, lighting a filgaret between his lips and advancing with his corpse puppets.
“Good evening, Mr. Pan. May we have a word?”