Genius Warlock

Oliver proceeded towards the massive street tree in District Z, precisely as Ewan had instructed, with the intention of liberating the bandaged man.

As he drew nearer, Oliver once again felt the commanding presence of the tree he had brought into existence. It possessed no discernible eyes, nose, or mouth; nevertheless, its sheer size and distinctive dark-red hue bestowed upon it an extraordinary air of intimidation.

Its sole endeavor had been to absorb the life force and emotions of the bandaged man.

‘It feels familiar… I’ve felt this before… Ah, Mr.Puppet.’

Oliver reminisced about his initial encounter with Puppet within the contaminated area.

A time when he found himself encircled by a legion of zombies, descended into the depths, and engaged in combat with Puppet.

Puppet had overwhelmed Oliver and attempted to consume him.

-This is the entrance to hell. I’ll swallow you as a whole.

He remained uncertain whether it was a genuine portal to hell, but the aura emanating from the tree bore some resemblance to his previous experience.

Quite intriguing.

“Are you alright, sir… Ah, you are.”

Oliver spotted the bandaged man ensnared amid the contorted branches of the colossal tree.

The man had been impaled by tree roots throughout his body due to Oliver’s assault.

Logically speaking, his survival seemed implausible, yet Oliver harbored no great surprise.

If he had sought astonishment, it would have been upon realizing the extent to which he had siphoned the life force and emotions independently.

Oliver possessed limited knowledge about the anti-development committee, but one thing was clear: they were not bound by conventional reasoning.

“Are you okay?”

Oliver inquired as he placed his hand on the inner surface of the tree.

As though comprehending Oliver’s genuine sentiments, the tree ceased its relentless absorption of the host’s life force and emotions and willingly withdrew its roots, releasing the host.

“Thank you.”

In a display of gratitude to the tree, which appeared to possess telepathic understanding, Oliver extended his hand to assist the bandaged man.

The bandaged man courteously declined Oliver’s offer and posed a query,

“You’re not going to finish me off?”

“Um… should I?”

“I could attack you again, couldn’t I?”

“Will you attack me again?”

“…I just attacked you moments ago.”

“But you didn’t hurt me, even though you could have.”

Oliver answered, remembering the bandaged man who attacked the black suit without destroying it. The man had possessed the capability to inflict a fatal blow upon Oliver, yet had abstained.

“…Are you not angry about my actions?”

“Well, considering my line of work, I can’t really complain about being attacked suddenly. Since neither of us got seriously hurt, how about we reconcile here?”

Oliver proposed a ceasefire, prompting the bandaged man to meet his gaze.

“As expected, you’re kind… too kind, O Supreme Being.”

“My name is Dave. I’m a solver from Street 30 in District T… May I ask your name?”

“…It’s Bartholomew.”

***

After exchanging pleasantries, Oliver and Bartholomew, the bandaged man with whom he had recently engaged in a fight, strolled away from the colossal tree as though nothing had occurred. It was an astonishing sight, but it had unquestionably transpired.

“Are all of them part of the anti-development committee?” Oliver inquired, noting the presence of dozens of bandaged individuals encircling them. Each of them was ensconced in bandages akin to Bartholomew and the sword-wielding bandaged man, and they all displayed a notable interest in Oliver.

“Yes, they are here to see the Supreme Being—”

“—Amazing. Slightly insane, too. You two reconciled in the meantime? Your actions say otherwise, but you’re quite amiable!” Ewan interjected, addressing Bartholomew.

As anticipated, Ewan appeared to be acquainted with Bartholomew and the entire anti-development committee. The atmosphere didn’t quite align with Ewan’s enthusiastic tone, and it was evident that they were accustomed to his peculiarities. Their reactions indicated that they were accustomed to his antics, which, for Oliver, was a fortunate turn of events.

After all, Oliver’s primary reason for being there was Ewan.

“It seems so, Mr. Ewan.”

“Oh, ain’t you calmer than I thought. IFigured you’d grill me with questions for deceiving you.”

“To be honest, I am curious. However, I have more pressing matters.”

“More pressing matters? Like what?”

Ewan genuinely appeared unaware and inquired further.

Oliver revealed the communication device he had received from Ewan, a compressed, desiccated fragment of a human skull.

“Didn’t you say the item I ordered was completed? Could I see it if it’s okay with you?”

“Big deal.”

“Pardon?”

“I consider myself a madman and take pride in it, but lookin’ at you, feels like I got a long trail ahead. Can a phony outshine the real thing?”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.”

“Not understanding is the real proof that you’re crazy. Sad… Wait a moment.”

Ewan delved into his voluminous cloak, which was laden with assorted trinkets, creating a cacophonous rustling. It was a marvel how he managed to carry so many items within it. Shortly thereafter, the rustling ceased, and Ewan extracted something from the depths of his cloak.

It was a vest crafted from the stitched-together faces of several humans.

“Is this the item I requested?”

“Yes,” Ewan replied, adopting a notably more solemn tone than before. Such seriousness was to be expected, as he had introduced himself as a skilled artisan, and when it came to his craft, he treated it with the utmost gravity. Although he had displayed playfulness when accepting the commission, he consistently delivered a meticulously crafted item when the transaction was underway.

For instance, he had promptly completed and provided a pair of tonfas that Oliver had ordered in exchange for the meat hammer.

Ewan began to elucidate as he unfurled the vest.

“As per your request, this item can store a heap of fresh blood. I used my natural knack and fashioned it into a wearable form for easy carryin’. Ain’t you grateful?” Ewan inquired.

“Yes, thank you.” Oliver replied. He had merely outlined the functionality he required without specifying the form, and a wearable garment seemed practical in many respects.

“From my reckonin’, this vest can hold ’bout 60 to 72 liters of blood. ‘Bout a dozen folks’ worth.” Ewan added.

Oliver inspected the vest, which coincidentally appeared to be composed of around 12 faces, with at least six on the front.

“Your craftsmanship is exceptional,” Oliver complimented as he examined the face-adorned vest. It was eerie, with all the eyes stitched shut, yet it possessed an astonishing lifelike quality, even featuring gums and teeth that made it seem as though it could come to life at any moment.

“Good materials make all the difference. There are many quality scammers in Landa.”

“Scammers?”

“Yes, those that suck blood. Ideal for craftin’ somethin’ like this.” Ewan explained.

“Ah…”

Oliver grasped the concept without requiring further elaboration.

“I also mixed different blood types haphazardly, but can’t rightly say if it’ll work to your likin’. You’ll have to put it to the test.” Ewan cautioned.

“Yes, I understand. Thank you for making this.” Oliver expressed his gratitude sincerely. He was already more than content with the result. While the vest couldn’t increase the production of the Blood Elixir, storing the blood of 12 individuals would unquestionably be immensely valuable to Corpse doll-Bathory, given her proficiency in blood magic. Considering the Corpse doll’s functionality and the volume of blood required, having such an item was far more advantageous than artificial blood injections through tubes.

Just as Oliver reached out to take the face-adorned vest, Ewan swiftly withdrew it, as if to signal ‘not so fast.’ Perplexed by this unexpected action, Oliver tilted his head, prompting Ewan to speak.

“We had a deal, didn’t we?”

“Ah… I apologize.” Oliver conceded, realizing that he had forgotten their arrangement. He retrieved Bigmouth from a leather case behind his waist.

As Bigmouth unfurled, it expanded like rising bread dough, sprouted limbs, and opened its eyes. Oliver then made a request to Bigmouth.

“Bigmouth, could you please bring that out?”

With a gulp, Bigmouth expelled a thick brown bag.

“Gruaak!“

The bag contained nothing other than a copied observation journal of Child. As a condition for acquiring the item, Oliver had promised to provide the observation journal of Child as payment. Ewan received the journal and promptly began perusing the contents of the bag.

Oliver confirmed that Ewan wasn’t merely looking but also comprehending the contents through his gaze and emotional state.

Indeed, Ewan appeared to be well-versed in various aspects of black magic.

“Is there anything interesting?” Oliver inquired, curious if Ewan found it satisfactory and hoping to gain some insights.

“Let’s see, I’ll have to look at it in more detail… Anyway, the deal’s sealed. Here you go.” Ewan replied, tossing the face mask vest to Oliver.

Oliver caught it instinctively. As the face mask vest came into Oliver’s possession, each of the faces in the vest distorted before returning to their previous expressions.

“Well, that’s somethin’. Even among the items I’ve made, that one had a nasty temperament,” Ewan remarked as he placed the copied diary into his cloak.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Like other black magic items, my stuff is finicky. But it performs well, just like me. You, on the other hand, seem quite agreeable for those items.”

Oliver recollected when he had acquired the meat hammer. Indeed, while others might have been severely injured, Oliver emerged unscathed, and the item even cooperated with him.

“I don’t know why, but fortunately so.”

“Really?” Ewan asked with a meaningful tone, and Oliver responded as usual.

“Yes, Mr. Ewan, if it’s alright with you, may I excuse myself for a moment? There’s something else I need to do.”

“I don’t rightly know what it is, but go on. Sounds interestin’.”

With Ewan’s permission, Oliver turned and addressed BigMouth.

He had numerous questions for Ewan, but there were other priorities, and personal curiosity took a backseat to his current tasks.

“BigMouth, could you please get that out?”

At Oliver’s request, BigMouth disgorged another item.

It was a neatly packaged bottle of wine and a cake.

The peculiar items puzzled everyone, and Oliver approached Bartholomew, with whom he had recently been fighting, and courteously offered him the wine and cake box.

This action prompted even more head tilting from the onlookers.

“What is this, O Supreme Being?”

“It’s cake and wine. It’s a housewarming gift.”

“Good Lord, did you set up camp in this here dump in District Z?” Ewan inquired, genuinely surprised.

“It’s actually District X. And I didn’t move, but my friends did. It’s a long story.”

“I see that. Got yourself some friends?” Ewan joked, and Oliver apologized before turning to Bartholomew again.

“I had intended to greet you more formally, but this is how it turned out. Could I ask a favor of you? If that’s alright, of course.”

“Go ahead.” Bartholomew replied as he accepted the wine and cake from Oliver.

“As I mentioned, my friends have settled in District X, but the building is still unfinished. Cement dust… finishing is needed. Could you possibly allow that?”

Recalling Forrest’s warning about the Anti-Development committee interfering with construction in District X, Oliver made his request.

“I’ll allow it. We won’t dare interfere with whatever you do, O Supreme Being.”

It was a satisfactory response, but one word troubled Oliver.

“Thank you, Mr. Bartholomew… But could I ask what you mean by ‘O Supreme Being’? It seems you’ve misjudged.”

“I may be a humble sinner, but I do recognize greatness.”

“A sinner?”

“That’s correct.”

“What sin have you committed that you call yourself a sinner?”

“The sin of being born a sinful human.”

Bartholomew spoke with firm conviction, reminiscent of Marie’s attitude, which Oliver found unsettling. Normal conversation didn’t seem effective.

“Can you tell me what you mean by ‘O Supreme Being’? I’m confused.”

“I apologize, but that’s not something we humble beings can express. You’ll have to realize it for yourself.”

It didn’t appear that he was evading the question, but Oliver felt no particular interest or curiosity.

“Excuse me, Mr. Bartholomew, but I’m not the ‘Supreme Being’ you’re talking about. I just want to clarify this, so there’s no misunderstanding.”

“The dragon doesn’t become a mouse just because it hides its teeth and claws, folds its wings, and hunches its body wearing a mouse’s skin.”

“…”

“The sun is the sun, the earth is the earth, and the sea is the sea. Essence doesn’t change just because you deny it. It’s an absolute truth, irrespective of good or evil.”

“What is my essence, then?”

“You’ll realize it yourself, whether you want to or not.”