Genius Warlock-Novel

As Oliver deftly swung his knife with a snap, the blade traced a natural arc and sliced through Cook's throat, causing his head to fall to the ground with a resounding thud.

He had worked tirelessly to assemble the fighter crew in a short amount of time, and yet it all came to a sudden halt.

The nearly three hundred crew members stood frozen, their emotions a mix of shock and fear. They couldn't believe what they had just witnessed, and the silence was deafening.

Oliver glanced at them, taking in their overwhelmed expressions, before turning his attention to the blade in his hand.

The knife in Oliver's possession was a replica of Cook's own blade, crafted using emotions and flesh.

Yet, despite its effectiveness, Oliver found the object to be rather unpleasant. The materials used in its construction and the specific design employed to maximize its impact made it all too sharp for his liking.

"Perhaps I went a bit overboard," Oliver muttered, waving his hand as if shaking off a dirty object, returning the knife to emotion, then brushing it off.

"Oh, but my promise with Mr. Jonathan…" Oliver's voice trailed off as he gazed upon the lifeless bodies of Cook and the fat man. At that moment, he realized that he had completely forgotten his agreement with Pinkman to capture the Human-meat Chef's associate alive.

As he watched, both corpses began to boil and disintegrate in a grotesque manner similar to that of the raiders from the auction house. Every last bit of muscle, flesh, bone, and organ melted away into nothingness.

He expected it anyway.

Just as Oliver was preparing to dispose of the remains, someone approached him with a glutton bag and a set of tools.

"Use this if necessary," Joe offered, catching Oliver off guard.

Grateful for the unexpected assistance, Oliver expressed his thanks and promptly began collecting the flesh scraps, carefully placing them inside the bag.

"Excuse me, but could I trouble you for three more bags?" Oliver asked, turning back to Joe who had offered him the tools.

Without hesitation, Joe held up three fingers and signaled to the people behind him. They quickly sprang into action, rushing to retrieve the requested bags.

"Thank you. If it's possible, I'd like to take two samples for each one," Oliver explained, anticipating Joe's confusion.

"Why two?" Joe inquired.

"One for me to use and the other for the Pinkman office… Although I couldn't fulfill my promise to them, I believe it's only courteous to provide them with this much."

As Oliver finished up his collection, a piercing scream could be heard coming from somewhere nearby.

"Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

As Oliver turned his head towards the source of the scream, he saw the Crimson meat hammer of the deceased fat man, with a member of the fighter crew screaming in pain beside it. The man's forearm was bitten and bleeding, presumably from his attempt to reach for the hammer.

"What happened?" Joe demanded, quickly approaching the scene. The individual supporting the injured man replied in surprise, "He was examining it out of curiosity, and then the mouth popped out and bit him."

"Why were you touching it? Is it yours?" Joe asked with his characteristic stern glare.

Oliver was puzzled as to why Joe was so irate about the situation, but soon realized that he was carefully observing Oliver's reaction. Joe likely wanted to avoid saying anything that might upset Oliver and cause further trouble.

Approaching the injured man, Oliver asked, "Are you okay?"

The man responded, "Yes, I'm okay. It's just a small tear."

"But how? Did you get bitten just by touching it?" Oliver inquired, his gaze fixated on the mottled crimson hammer.

"Yes, I touched it without even realizing it, then suddenly…"

As the injured man's voice trailed off, Oliver turned his attention to the mottled crimson hammer. Everyone around them dispersed in response to Oliver's approach, giving him space to investigate.

Drawing closer to the hammer, Oliver soon confirmed the man's claims. The worm-like lips that covered the hammer were adorned with teeth that had been invisible during the fight.

Oliver was shocked to see that the teeth were more reminiscent of those found in carnivorous animals than in humans. Even a slight bite from them could cause flesh to fall off. It was a truly unsettling sight.

Oliver's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. He wondered if the hammer had been triggered by someone other than the owner trying to touch it. Perhaps it was some sort of defense system? Or maybe it was attempting to repair the damaged flesh?

As Oliver continued to ponder the hammer's strange abilities, he recalled Cook tearing a piece of meat from it and regaining his life force. It was a unique recovery method, likely exclusive to the Human-meat Chef faction.

Regardless, Oliver was certain that the hammer was not an ordinary item. Despite not knowing much about it, he was convinced that its power was truly exceptional. The ability to extract life force was just one of its many unusual attributes.

Even widely used items like the glutton bag required skilled techniques for production, so it was clear to Oliver that the level of craftsmanship and power behind this unseen object was beyond explanation.

Despite the danger posed by the hammer's sharpened teeth and its propensity for biting people, Oliver remained undaunted. As everyone watched with bated breath, he reached out and touched the hammer.

To everyone's surprise, the numerous teeth retracted back into the gums. Undeterred, Oliver continued to examine the hammer, taking note of its unique features.

The handle and head were both constructed from bone and flesh, imbuing the hammer with a pulsing sense of life. Although it was quite heavy, Oliver found that the weight was well-balanced. It would be difficult to lift without the aid of the black suit, but there was still significant research value in studying the object further.

“Dave.”

“Yes? Joe?”

“What are you thinking?”

"At the moment, my plan is to give it to Big Mouth. However, I'm uncertain if this hammer, which appears to be an artificial life-form akin to the Glutton Bag, can be consumed. Big Mouth cannot swallow anything that is still alive."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"…?"

"… Thanks for stopping that crazy person who wanted to turn this place into a warzone, but let's be real, things are still the same. How do you plan on convincing the Crime Firm guys that we didn't do anything?"

"Ah…"

"You're not pulling our leg, right?" asked Joe, with suspicion.

"I am not lying. While I cannot guarantee its success, I do have a plan in mind."

"Can I ask what it is?"

"Um…before I respond to your inquiry, may I ask you a question?"

“What is it?”

"You were employed as a black market security guard, correct? How was the experience? What about the pay and working conditions?"

⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩

Oliver led Joe and several other members of the Fighter Crew into the office of Forrest Restaurant on District T's 27th Street. Upon seeing them, Forrest, the president, and broker of the establishment, appeared flustered and uneasy.

"You always get me all flustered, you know?" he remarked, attempting to play it off with a joke.

"Did I make an unreasonable demand?"

Forrest took a sip of his drink before realizing that he needed another to calm his nerves. "Umm…hold on, I need a couple of sips. I can't calm down," he muttered before taking another drink.

After composing himself, he turned to Oliver and asked, “Huh… can you repeat what you just said?”

"I'm talking about the job of retrieving the auction items that I'm doing this time."

"Right, the District Y gangsters and the human-meat Chef’s minions worked together."

"And one of Mr. Chef's subordinates is none other than Cook, the leader of the Fighter Crew."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about today. The word on the street is spreading like wildfire."

"Yes, I also heard it from Joe today."

"Let me break it down for you. Lemme make sure I've got it right," asked Forrest, and Oliver willingly gave him the room to speak.

"Hmm…so you reckon Cook's the one spreading the rumors?"

“Yes.”

Oliver affirmed with a nod, despite his uncertainty about the speculation, he was convinced.

Suddenly, the well-concealed identity was uncovered, and rumors began to circulate. Cook's preparations for war, without any attempts to refute it, became inexplicable unless it was deliberate.

When Oliver articulated this rationale, Forrest concurred with a nod.

"It's not that far-fetched. Actually, it kinda makes sense. We had our doubts about how the rumor spread so fast on our side. If he had some kinda hidden motive for spreading it, it adds up…oh, I was just drinking solo. You want a drink too, guys?"

Forrest regained his composure and asked Joe and the others next to Oliver.

Joe shook his head, "I'd rather stay sober."

"Good."

Pouring himself another drink, Forrest commended Joe and resumed their conversation.

"What's Cook's aim, you think? Why would he ditch his identity and the organization he worked hard to build to get the Crime Firm's attention?"

"I'm not 100% sure, but I'm thinking maybe it's just a diversion tactic to throw them off the real prize."

Lost in thought, Forrest pondered whether that was indeed the case.

"Fighter Crew was also made to relocate their base from District Y to X."

"Sounds plausible. Thanks to you, Dave, the alliance between the District Y gangsters and Chef's minions got busted. So they're probably doing it to snag whatever they're really after."

"What do you think they’re really after?"

"If they're pulling a stunt like this, it's gotta be for something big. I'm also curious as to what it is. Anyways, we need to spread the word about this."

Forrest hastily maneuvered the bulky communication device and was about to grasp the receiver when Joe flicked the switch.

Forrest cast a disapproving glance at Joe, as if he disapproved of his action.

“What are you doing?”

"I ain't trying to step on your toes, boss, but we got a deal to keep us safe."

Sensing the conviction in Joe's voice, Forrest merely rolled his eyes and turned towards Oliver.

As Oliver gestured for comprehension, Forrest softly shut his eyes and terminated the call.

"Please do it as soon as possible. I have my own work to do too."

“Thank you, Mr. Forrest.”

"Alright, but don't touch my comm device without asking me first. It's like covering my mouth when I'm talking…I feel disrespected."

Oliver nodded cordially and requested Joe to refrain from doing that in the future. Joe promptly nodded and apologized once more to Forrest.

“Well, okay… What can I do for you?”

“I would like you to set up a meeting so we can clear things up with the Crime Firm…”

"Didn't you say earlier that the Fighter Crew wasn't actually involved?"

“Yes. They say they were forced into it.”

"Personally, I feel bad for them, but there are a few things you missed."

"Like what?"

"First off, hate to break it to you, but the Crime Firm's upper management is a massive operation. They got sway all over the city, not just the underworld. I can't just hook up a meeting with them from my spot."

"Can't you ask the person who commissioned this job?"

"That leads me to my second point. Our employer ain't technically the Crime Firm, but the Pinkman Office who took on their job. Well, to be precise, it's Jonathan. So we ain't got no right to talk business with the Crime Firm. It's Jonathan's territory."

"Then, Mr. Jonathan…"

"Here's the third point. The Pinkman Office's bread and butter is being pros. They take on jobs, get paid, no questions asked. They don't do this kinda thing. It ain't good business practice."

“Um..….”

After being rebuffed three times in a row, Oliver was left with nothing to say. He never anticipated that the path would be obstructed right from the start like this. He could feel the gaze from behind.

“Um… then, is it completely impossible to contact the Crime Firm?”

As he was contemplating the idea of approaching Murphy if things didn't work out, Forrest intervened and replied, "Not totally. I do have a channel to reach the Crime Firm, but we gotta have a legit reason to use it. We can't just cold call them."

"Like an excuse?"

"Exactly."

“Um… What counts as an excuse?”

"It can be anything, really. Something that benefits both parties, or a chance to help the Crime Firm out or make a deal with them. It can't be just for kicks."

"What if I ask for a meeting to pay off my debt?"

"Debt? That could work. It's a fair trade. Do any Crime Firm higher-ups owe you?"

"I'm not sure about the debt, but I did end up helping them out during the auction house raid. They promised to give me what I wanted as a reward, but I never claimed it. Can I use that to clear things up?"

"Yeah, that should do it. But are you sure about this?"

As usual, the tactful Forrest chose his words carefully, but Oliver, having worked with him for a year, seemed to understand what he meant.

It was a tale of paying a steep price for something that lacked coherence. It was a loss, so it was time to abandon it.

Oliver glanced back and saw the leaders of each Fighter Crew group, including Joe, standing there.

"Um… Yes, because I've already made a promise."

(To be Continued on Apr 24(MON))

OR

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