The blue moonlight shone through the opened door, revealing the inside of the warehouse.
There was a dead body hanging from the ceiling and an operating table on one side.
Surgical tools were placed next to it.
Rather than a warehouse, it was a sight that seemed suitable for a kind of laboratory and workroom.
All Oliver could hear in the room was the sound of rough breathing.
“You……who the hell are you?”
Oliver looked at him.
A man surrounded by zombies which were sewed here and there like a rag.
Oliver instinctively noticed that the man was Puppeteer Glyph and greeted him politely.
"Hello?"
Oliver wondered whether the way of greeting was wrong, as the Puppeteer looked at Oliver with a sense of alienation and confusion.
Oliver also observed him, and he could understand why he was talking through the doll.
He was fat enough to be deformed, almost to the point where he could not help but fall off like bread dough.
It was definitely a body shape that was not suitable for a dangerous battlefield.
Skinny Oliver was also similar to him in some ways.
Oliver stood still and looked at him until the Puppeteer opened his mouth first, and fortunately, he opened.
“You… you, what the hell are you?”
"I'm Oliver. Didn't I say it to you earlier…?"
"…Who's your Master?"
"Huh? Didn’t I tell you earlier?”
"Do not lie!"
Puppeteer shouted to the point where his drooping cheeks shook.
"I've never heard of anyone named Joseph in Landa. I can tell you're only a few years old, but my doll… Who is it, your Master?!"
Oliver was silent.
He told the truth, but the other person did not believe him, so he did not know how to persuade him.
However, as if the silence itself worked, Puppeteer Glyph murmured in confusion.
“Hey, You… What you said is not a lie?"
“Yes…. He was a native of Landa but he moved out. I just came here.”
Glyph sweated as he gave strength to his eyes.
He was probably trying to read Oliver's emotions, and Oliver knew it because he had done it too often.
“You, what are you?”
Glyph looked intently at Oliver, stumbling backward as he asked.
Oliver seemed to understand what he was talking about.
“Ah, my Master said that I have a very weak emotion. So…”
“No, it’s not like that.”
"What?"
Oliver asked, but the puppeteer did not answer.
The Puppeteer’s emotions were clouded with confusion, fear, and terror.
It was as if he saw something unbelievable for a moment.
Amid the chaos, the Puppeteer managed to calm himself as the fear and terror got overshadowed by courage and cunning.
"…why? are you against me?"
Puppeteer Glyph asked, not to observe Oliver's reaction, rather he was genuinely curious.
Oliver answered as it was because he was also curious about something.
"Um, somehow it ended up like that. Can I ask you a question?
"… Tell me."
“The first doll that I saw on the way here, how did you make it?”
“Are you talking about the corpse doll?”
“Yes. That was amazing. From the outside, it really looked like a living person.”
He complimented him wholeheartedly, but Puppeteer Glyph was rather horrified, let alone delighted.
He felt like he was in front of a wild beast.
Oddly enough, there was a willingness to seize the opportunity between such tension and fear.
Puppeteer wondered what Oliver wanted.
“… I learned it from my Master.”
The Puppeteer was saying the truth.
“Did you learn it?”
“Yes, from my great Master, whom the world calls Puppet.”
Puppeteer Glyph seemed to be expecting some kind of reaction, but Oliver's reaction was very bland.
“Puppet…? Puppet? That’s a unique name.”
Puppeteer Glyph's emotions shone with bewilderment and absurdity.
"… Don't you know who Puppet is?"
“Um…do I need to know?”
“Of course. Of course, if you are a warlock then you should know about him! He is a legend in the world of black magic, a person who lived for hundreds of years.”
"Um… I'm sorry. It hasn't been that long since I learned black magic. So, I don't know much about the world of black magic. My Master… he couldn't teach me properly because of his work."
“How long has it been since you started learning black magic?”
“Um… how many months?”
Oliver counted the number of months using his finger to answer his question.
He couldn't remember the date when he was sold to Joseph, so he could only guess.
But Puppeteer Glyph did not seem to be satisfied with Oliver’s answer.
"Lie…don't lie! No matter how much of a genius you are, the corpse doll that consolidates all the knowledge I've acquired throughout my life… is not something that a person who learned black magic for only a few months could defeat!"
He was genuinely angry and denied accepting the reality.
However, that was the truth.
“Are you… a contractor?”
Contractor.
It was a word Oliver knew.
A being who gained power through a contract with a Demon.
According to what he saw in Joseph's study, it was said that the Contractor could gain talent and strength that exceeds far beyond a lifetime of one's hard work.
By analogy, it was like an evolution that transcends species.
Although they had to bear the consequent price, many Warlocks fall into temptation because the fruit was so sweet.
That was why warlocks were rejected.
“I’m sorry, but no.”
“No?”
“Yes, I want to see a Demon, but I’m not a Contractor.”
GULP.
Puppeteer Glyph glanced at the opportunity and swallowed his saliva.
He made up his mind on something and asked Oliver.
“… Do you want to be a contractor?”
“Um… I’m not interested in being a Contractor, but I do want to meet a Demon. I have some questions to ask.”
Oliver answered, remembering the ‘Oldman on horseback’ who greeted him.
He wanted to know why he bowed to him.
And why did it feel so familiar?
Oliver wanted to know.
"… You want to ask Demon something?"
"Yes…"
“Are you interested in my… corpse doll?”
Oliver looked back and answered.
“Yes…it’s interesting.”
"You must have a lot of questions, don't you?"
“How did you know? I have so many questions.”
Suddenly, Puppeteer Glyph's expression had a faint smile.
It was as if he had picked up a lump of golden nugget.
"… Then I'll help you."
“Will you?”
"Yeah, I'll help you. To satisfy your curiosity. From what I can see, you have great skills, but you lack common sense… How about it? If you help me, I'll help you."
Oliver looked at Puppeteer Glyph.
He was telling the truth.
Although there were hidden intentions in it, he was sincere about helping him.
“Um… is it something to do with the organization Black hand?”
“Yeah… did that fu*ker Freckle tell you?”
“Yes… I heard it’s an organization made up of powerful warlocks, right?”
"Well…it's a lot bigger than that, but it's roughly right. It's a powerful organization in charge of an axis in the afterlife. An organization that belongs to living Warlock legends. Here, they deal with a lot of resources and forbidden knowledge. If you were to become a part of such an organization…”
“Does Mr. Puppet, the Master of Mr. Glyph, also belong to this organization?”
"Yeah! Now you understand the power of Black Hand, right!? But when referring to Master, call him ‘Sir. Puppet’."
"Um, okay… But there's something that doesn't make sense."
"What is it?"
“Why are you trying hard to join the organization when your master belongs to it?”
At that moment, the emotions of Puppeteer Glyph shook.
He felt like he was stabbed in a sore spot, he flustered
"Well, that's because of my master's teaching … Yeah, because of his teaching. I need to prove my worth. Like a test!"
It was a Lie.
Oliver saw through the inside of Puppeteer Glyph.
But it didn't bother him much.
It didn't seem like there was anything special about it, so he asked for something else instead.
“Black Hand seems like a great place.”
"Yes."
“Then, it won’t be easy to join, right?”
“…What the hell are you trying to say?
“Um, nothing special, does asking Freckle for beggars has anything to do with joining the Black Hand, like the people down here?”
Oliver said while pointing to the warehouse basement.
Underneath the warehouse, there were many emotions filled with fear.
At that question, Puppeteer Glyph's expression darkened.
"Yeah, what about it?… Don't tell me that a Warlock like you cares about such things?"
Oliver thought about whether he cared about it.
He rubbed his forehead and thought.
He thought about why he left Wineham.
He forgot about his purpose for a while, when he was wondering about Kent.
‘Why did I leave Wineham?’
It was nothing other than to quench his curiosity.
To quench his curiosity about beautiful emotions, black magic, and demons.
Because he thought it would be difficult to find an answer to those questions while running an organization.
"Nope…"
Oliver murmured.
Obviously, that was his main reason, but there was a separate reason that became a small spark and made him leave.
It was a small passing word, however, those words were decisive in making Oliver leave Wineham.
At that moment, a woman's voice echoed in his ears.
-Don’t stay in this darkness, come out into the world. Meet a lot of people out there and learn to live like a normal person.
"Ugh…."
Oliver let out a sigh as if it had scratched the itchy spot accurately.
And in that process, he met Kent.
He helped Oliver without any ulterior motives.
Just because he felt pity for him, he helped him without any ulterior motive.
Oliver had never received such help in the past.
Besides that, he protected the beggars and even him at the risk of his life.
Although his emotions were not without temptation or frustration, he nevertheless carried out his will till the end.
His emotions weren’t as dazzling as the beautiful emotions, but nonetheless, that soft light… was very…
“Answer my question!”
Oliver came to his senses at the sudden loud noise.
Puppeteer Glyph in front of him had an angry expression on his face.
"Answer my question….does a Warlock need to care about those little scums?"
“Um…a little?”
"… What?"
"How should I say… I can't express it well, but it's amazing. To endure something and keep your will… It's pretty."
“Pretty?”
“Yeah, if you were a warlock, you should know about those emotions…?”
"… I don't know what you're talking about."
“Ah, that’s unfortunate.”
“…I will tell you once again. If you cooperate, I will help you get the knowledge you want. If you join Black Hand, you can get knowledge and teaching from the organization, and you can also use the black market by using the personal connections you made there.”
“Um…Black Hand… I’m sorry, but to do that, do I have to hand over the beggars, like Freckle?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you join, in return for giving up on them. You can get tremendous power and knowledge by giving me the beggars on the street."
Oliver was lost in agony.
Demons, black magic, beautiful emotions.
There were so many things he wanted to know, and Oliver didn't know how to get them.
And, the man in front of him was speaking the truth.
He could help Oliver.
With that help, Oliver could gain the knowledge he wanted.
The first step was to turn in the beggars.
It was a very cheap price. It was undeniable that they were huge in numbers, and they had no power, and Oliver could get away with it if he wanted to.
But Oliver didn’t like it.
"That's a bit too much."
"What?"
"It's a little bit… Well, I definitely want knowledge, but I don’t think I can do that."
“Do you know how stupid you are right now?”
“Yes. Still, I can’t help it. I got some help, and I don't hate them.”
"You're missing out on this great opportunity for an insignificant reason? It's the Black Hand…the chance every warlock dreams of!"
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. I guess I’ve to reject the offer.”
“…?”
" I got to meet you because of that insignificant reason, isn’t that itself feel interesting? Coming out into the world, meeting different people, hanging out with them… It’s pretty interesting."
"Really? Then, go die with them!"
Filled with rage, Puppeteer Glyph ordered the remaining zombies to attack Oliver.
Oliver targeted the zombies' heads and then fired Hate Bullets.
Unlike the previous corpse dolls, the zombies were just helplessly destroyed because the Puppeteer didn't add any special features.
[Meat Shield]
[Bone Sphere]
Puppeteer Glyph created a shield from broken zombies, and created spears made of bones.
However, when Oliver shot a hate bullet, his counterattack was thoroughly shattered to the point of being meaningless.
“…Kuck!”
The bullet went through the shield and hit him in the stomach.
Puppeteer Glyph fell down, he said hastily looking at Oliver.
"Ughhhhhh, I understand…! I give up…I'll leave like this. I won’t do anything to those beggars…"
Oliver came closer and said,
“I know it’s a lie.”
“Fu*k…if I die, that person… My master… The great Puppet will come and avenge….
"I know that's a lie too, you aren't sure?"
Puppeteer Glyph's expression distorted in shock.
He was full of shame as if he had been stripped off by the person in front of him.
Oliver approached him and knelt down on one knee and asked politely.
"I know it's a lie that your master, Sir. Puppet gave you a test. Why did you lie?"
Puppeteer Glyph's expression got distorted to the point that it could not be distorted anymore.
His final emotions were only fear, shame, and despair.
As he gasped and died, he was filled with fear and shame.
Oliver groaned as he looked at his corpse.
He thought maybe he could see the beautiful light again.
For some reason, fear played a bigger role than will at the last minute.
He felt a little bit of regret.
Oliver then concentrated his energy on his eyes.
Then he saw the secret passage device that he had seen in Joseph's factory in the past.
Oliver approached the place and touched the wall with the emotions in his hand.
The black light slowly moved a few times, and then the secret passage opened.
As he made his way down the stairs, he saw a bed and a table, some books, a safe, dark magic tools, and a group of people who were locked in the iron cage.
Oliver looked at them and asked.
“Do you need any help?”
(To be Continued)
