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With a resounding crash, the sound of bones shattering echoed as Oliver’s quarterstaff struck the mouth of an adversary concealed in the basement.
Skin was torn, muscles were crushed, and teeth and jawbones shattered into fragments.
This outcome was not surprising, considering that the attack had even pulverized the butcher knife reinforced with black magic.
However, to everyone’s astonishment, the disciple of Human-meat Chef not only survived but displayed remarkable resilience.
In fact, he didn’t collapse despite his lower face being completely destroyed. He clung onto the quarterstaff with both hands, showcasing extraordinary Life-force and regenerative abilities.
“Grghgrl!!”
From his ruined mouth, he commanded an attack, and the other warlocks draped in human skin cloaks charged at Oliver simultaneously.
[Grind]
Oliver chanted, and tiny blades sprouted from the black suit enveloping the quarterstaff, rapidly rotating.
Ziiiiing!
A dreadful, ear-splitting noise filled the air, and the face and hands of the Human-meat Chef’s disciple, who had been holding the quarterstaff, were ground away.
“……!!”
The shockingly horrific scene momentarily froze the other disciples of the Human-meat Chef, while Oliver continued grinding down his opponent, lowering his quarterstaff.
Ziiiiing!
With that grinding sound, blood and flesh sprayed in all directions, painting the entire basement red.
Witnessing this gruesome spectacle, the surrounding disciples of the Human-meat Chef stepped back in even greater horror. Meanwhile, the one who had been attacked attempted to regenerate his body with the unique healing power of their faction.
However, he eventually succumbed to the cumulative damage.
Thud.
The only remaining lower half of his body fell to the floor and writhed before, just like other disciples of Human-meat Chef Oliver had encountered before, bubbling and collapsing powerlessly like a wet tissue.
Every part of him, including bones and innards, had been ground up.
It appeared that being ground alive was indeed the weakness of the Human-meat Chef faction.
In light of this, the other disciples surrounding Oliver hesitated.
Oliver then made them an offer.
“If you promise just to leave, I won’t hold you.”
It was an unexpected proposal that momentarily shook the disciples of the Human-meat Chef.
But their hesitation was short-lived.
“Fools! If we fail to execute the master’s command, we’re as good as dead anyway! Fight if you want to live!!”
A warlock wielding a large French knife shouted, and his comrades, driven by a mixture of courage and fear, charged at Oliver.
It became evident that the rumors of the Human-meat Chef treating his disciples harshly were true.
Oliver confronted them with a quarterstaff in one hand and a blood-red twig in the other.
The battle proved to be shorter than anticipated.
***
“No way… This level of skill…”
The last remaining disciple of Human-meat Chef muttered in a voice filled with disbelief and shock.
Overwhelmed by the gruesome sight, he sat down on the floor, having lost both arms and one leg.
He concentrated his life force, attempting to regenerate the severed body parts with the unique healing power of the Human-meat Chef faction. However, the recovery was slow due to the chaotic wounds resembling those of a mixer-grinder. In the meantime, Oliver thrust the blood-red twig into his neck.
Gagging, the twig embedded in the opponent’s neck began to take root without command, absorbing all energy, including blood, life force, emotions, and mana.
It fed voraciously, causing the host to rapidly wither like a mummy, and soon after, his body began to disintegrate.
“I can’t believe this level of skill…”
The last disciple of the Human-meat Chef continued repeating the same phrase like a malfunctioning alarm clock until he crumbled, much like his predecessors.
It was an unexpectedly anticlimactic end. However, it wasn’t due to any lack of skill on their part; quite the opposite, in fact. Their abilities were outstanding, possibly even surpassing those of the founder of the Fighter Crew, Cook, and the disciples of the Human-meat Chef who had raided the auction house.
These were the very individuals Oliver had faced in the past and struggled against. They appeared confident in their abilities, knowing they were formidable opponents. But it was clear that this was now in the past.
“Something’s off…”
Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His skills had undoubtedly improved compared to the past, thanks to his encounters with formidable individuals like Bathory, Shamus, Theodore, and others. Human-meat Chef must have been aware of this, especially since Gretel had met Oliver once in Lake Village.
But to have this kind of ending, with an ambush using Unna’s house, felt oddly executed. There could have been more effective methods.
Instead of dwelling on the reasons behind this, Oliver decided to focus on the present. There was much to attend to.
First, Oliver glanced up at the basement ceiling, checking on Unna and her party above. Fortunately, they hadn’t fled but stood there, accepting their fate.
Seeing no signs of them trying to escape, Oliver walked over the collapsed flesh, retrieving the blood-red twig resting atop the gruesome pile.
This twig, with its unnaturally straight and blood-red appearance, was a memento from the battle against Bartolomeo of the Anti-Development Committee when he left District Z.
“The rest I left as a moving-in gift to District Z… It’s not something to carry around in the first place.”
Recalling the giant blood-red tree, Oliver examined the twig in his hand. At first glance, it seemed unchanged, but surprisingly, it was infused with significant life force, mana, and emotions.
It had absorbed not only the energy of the disciple who had just crumbled but also that of several other disciples of Human-meat Chef.
These disciples possessed immense life force, mana, and emotions, all of which were instantly drained when impaled by the twig.
“Interesting.”
Oliver thought as he examined the blood-red twig. It had absorbed a substantial amount of energy without any alteration in appearance, indicating a continual craving for more.
This made sense, considering the absorbed energy was being expended rapidly. It appeared to require significant upkeep, akin to Child, but it was worth investigating further.
“After all, it was a gift requested by Mr. Ewan and the Anti-Development Committee, so there must be something interesting about it.”
Oliver placed the intriguing research subject in his pocket. He then moved through the bloodstained and flesh-strewn basement, collecting the spoils.
These spoils were the human skin cloaks worn by the disciples of Human-meat Chef. Oliver carefully cleaned the blood from the cloaks, folded them neatly, and placed them on his shoulder.
These cloaks seemed to be enchanted with black magic, not only concealing one’s presence but also emotions. Oliver saw potential in repairing them as items for corpse dolls, as hiding was an effective tactic.
‘Oh… It seems Ms. Unna and her companions were not just idling around.’
As Oliver picked up the cloaks, he noticed a machine tucked away in a corner of the basement. It was a machine he recognized, none other than a production facility for the Blood Elixir, albeit an older model compared to what Oliver was accustomed to.
With all the cloaks collected, Oliver ascended the basement stairs and returned to the first-floor living room.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Creeeak…
As the basement door swung open, Oliver placed the cloaks aside, leaving bloody footprints as he approached Unna and his group.
He stopped in front of them and took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood and flesh from his face.
“Thank you for waiting.”
Orshoya, Katalin, Andrassy, Pal, and Unna—the remnants of the Bathory family—all maintained silence, their emotions palpable through their expressions: tension, fear, resolve, and resignation.
“May I ask you a question?” Oliver inquired, and they continued to remain silent. However, Oliver proceeded to speak, understanding that their emotional state could convey enough answers.
“Did you bring in disciples of Mr. Human-meat Chef to kill me?”
“…And what if we did?” Unna responded. She appeared calm on the surface, but underneath, she summoned a considerable amount of courage, the kind that comes when facing the possibility of death.
“No, I wasn’t asking to do anything, just a bit surprised.”
“……”
“If I remember correctly, all of you were attacked by a Human-meat Chef, specifically the sister of a Mr. Human-meat Chef, Gretel, and came to Landa to escape their relentless pursuit and attacks, didn’t you?”
Unna affirmed with her silence.
“In the process, you suffered great losses, including losing your base and sisters… I may not be well-informed about such matters, but isn’t Mr. Human-meat Chef also your enemy? And even Lady Bathory has been fighting Mr. Human-meat Chef longer than I have, so in a way, you more than-”
“-Shut your mouth. Don’t you dare speak of our mother so casually.” Unna snapped, her anger mixed with fear. It stemmed from her affection for Bathory and pride in their once-powerful family, even if it now lay in ruins.
Oliver, despite being interrupted, remained composed and nodded politely, as if to convey his understanding.
After a moment, Oliver resumed speaking.
“……You broke your promise with me.”
“I know. And you said you’d kill us all if we did.”
Oliver nodded.
In exchange for shelter in Landa and some money, Oliver had asked for his safety and the assurance that no harm would come to Landa. Unna had agreed to these terms, even though Oliver had warned that he would kill them all if they violated the agreement.
And now, they had indeed broken their promise.
The atmosphere grew heavy, and Unna, along with her sisters, subtly infused blood into the air—a demonstration of the Bathory family’s specialty, blood magic.
They seemed prepared to face Oliver in combat, yet their demeanor was more that of desperation than determination, akin to prey facing a predator.
It was no surprise; Unna’s group had already encountered Oliver twice before and lost both times, despite their proficiency in blood magic. They knew better than anyone that they stood little chance.
Oliver spoke to them, opening his mouth to address their situation.
“……However, I don’t wish to harm you. You may have broken the promise, but fortunately, you have not caused any harm to Landa.”
Oliver’s sincerity was evident. If Landa had suffered harm, the entire city would have been involved. However, since the attack was directed solely at Oliver, it was his issue to resolve.
However, Unna ground her teeth in a mixture of anger and resentment.
“Are we not even worth the trouble to kill?”
“You misunderstand. If my tone was offensive, I apologize. I simply meant that I don’t want to fight you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
It was the truth because…
“……I feel sorry for what happened with Lady Bathory, and I also like you.”
The unexpected statement left Unna’s group petrified, overwhelmed by a mix of disgust, anger, and contempt.
“Are you joking right now?”
“I’m serious. As I said before, you are all remarkable. Despite being a family of warlocks, you all get along like true sisters…… It’s very rare.”
Oliver’s emotional tone, diverging so far from common sense, left Unna’s group unsure of how to react. They almost wished he were feigning madness, as his words seemed so irrational.
“So, I’m also wondering. To avenge your mother, did you really join hands with another enemy, risking the lives of your sisters as well…… It doesn’t seem like something you would do, Ms. Unna.”
“What makes you think you know so much about me?”
“I know that you treasure your sisters, Ms. Unna. I’ve seen your actions and emotions. I don’t think you’re someone who would endanger those around you for something like this…… Am I wrong?”
In response to Oliver’s innocent question, Unna, visibly uneasy, eventually revealed the truth.
“……We didn’t call them.”
“Then, what happened?”
“…..Human-meat Chef found us. I don’t know how they knew we were in Landa, but they tracked us down using our scent.”
The explanation about scent made sense. There were black magics that could enhance one’s sense of smell, and Oliver himself had used such spells when he was with Kent. Narrowing down a search within a certain range wasn’t implausible.
“And they offered to help us. They said they could help us avenge our mother. We just had to assist.”
“Did you accept because of that reason?”
“Partly.”
“May I ask what the other reasons were?”
“……To live. They said they’d kill all of us if we refused.”
Unna spoke with a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. One could somewhat understand the mindset that led her to accept their offer, given her lack of means to protect herself and her sisters.
“It might sound like an excuse, but the weak can’t do much else.”
Her words carried sincerity.
“We’re very weak right now, with enemies on both sides. You and Human-meat Chef. And you could kill us whenever you wanted. So, there’s not much we can do. To avoid dying, we let ourselves be used by one enemy to kill another.”
It sounded harsh to Oliver and eerily familiar.
A similar narrative from the past resurfaced in his memory.
‘Ah.’
Oliver realized the déjà vu had a basis in reality. He had heard a similar story before, in the tale of Forrest and Kent.
During the redevelopment boom, one had amassed wealth but lost their family, while the other had lost a partner and their sense of morality.
Forest’s words echoed in his mind.
‘-It’s because I’m weak. When you’re weak, you’re susceptible to temptation…… No, it’s just an excuse. I’m just a bastard……’
While Oliver was reflecting on that event, Unna posed a question.
“……But even so, we broke our promise. What will you do with us now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I know it’s brazen to ask…… but could you please just let me take the fall?”
The other sisters began to object to Unna’s words, but she raised her hand to silence them.
It wasn’t a calculated act but a genuine expression of sincerity. She was prepared for the consequences.
“Hmm…… May I ask you one thing?”
“……What is it?”
“If I let this go and release you, what do you plan to do going forward? I saw the machine in the basement. The one for making the Blood Elixir . When I saw it, it seemed like you had some plan of your own to avoid your enemies, me and Mr. Human-meat Chef-“
“-That’s impossible. Absolutely not.”
A third voice suddenly interrupted Oliver and Unna’s conversation.
It was a captivating, soft baritone voice, akin to that of a radio drama actor.
Oliver instinctively turned his gaze toward the source of the voice in the basement.
To his surprise, in the basement, the flesh of the Human-meat Chef’s disciples had melded together like clay, forming a massive mass of flesh with a mouth.
In a surreal moment that resembled a bizarre symphony, Unna whispered:
“Human-meat Chef…”
(To be Continued)
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