Chapter 521: The Master of the Ruined Land

Ewan suddenly interrupted out of nowhere, shouting.

He wanted Oliver to join him in Gallos to loot the legacy of the Flesh Cook.

His strong voice echoed hollowly in the time-worn hallway, and Oliver and Bartholomew remained silent.

“Damn it, why this reaction? Got nothing to say? How about, ‘Oh, sure. I’ll follow you right away.’ or ‘Thanks for including me in such a great business, Ewan. You’re the best.’ Something like that?”

Ewan revealed his disappointment at Oliver’s indifferent reaction. After all, he had gone through the trouble of sharing the story, and the response seemed a bit rude.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Oh, of course! Now, that’s more like you. Ask away, anything!”

“Is the Battering Ram an item that uses human heads to create spatial rifts through black magic?”

“You recognize it! The official name is Skull Crusher. It creates rifts using a human head, and each time you use it, the head is crushed—hence the name.”

Ewan showed the crushed head attached to the end of the Skull Crusher.

“Convenient, but you have to replace the head every time you use it, which is a hassle, and the head itself has to belong to someone skilled—costs add up fast. Damn it! Who told you to ask something like that?!”

Ewan shouted at Oliver for asking such an out-of-place question. What made Ewan even angrier was that he had kindly explained it anyway.

“I curse my dedication and professional spirit. I can’t believe I answered that.”

“Hmm… I disagree with you on the part about being dedicated, but I apologize. You did say I could ask anything.”

“I said ask anything, but that wasn’t what I meant! There’s usually a flow to a conversation, something like, ‘What’s the legacy of the Flesh Cook?’ or ‘How much money are we talking about?’—basic, material things.”

“…What is the legacy of the Flesh Cook?”

Oliver asked the question as Ewan had directed.

Had it been anyone else, Ewan might have thought he was being mocked, but since it was Oliver, he just held back his rising annoyance and answered.

“Huff… It’s exactly what it says. The wealth the Flesh Cook left behind after dying at the hands of the Archive. You should know, you were there.”

Oliver hesitated for a moment.

Oliver’s visit to Gallos wasn’t exactly a secret, but it wasn’t widely known either.

That’s because officially, Oliver was only listed on the documents. The public was more focused on Merlin, who was credited with defeating the Flesh Cook, and Terence and Yareli, who helped save the City.

The fact that Ewan mentioned it so casually was a bit surprising. An unexpected sharpness?

“Are you having offensive thoughts about me right now?”

“…Not at all.”

Oliver lied, and Ewan saw right through it.

“If I were any stronger, I’d punch you right now, but since I’m not, I’ll let it slide… Anyway, the point is I want to do business with you. We can loot the Flesh Cook’s vast legacy together. You can thank me.”

“May I ask another question?”

“Say thank you first… What is it?”

“Are you certain the Flesh Cook’s legacy actually exists?”

Ewan wasn’t showing any false emotions, but Oliver wanted to make sure.

That’s because shortly after the Flesh Cook’s death, the news announced that all of his assets had been seized.

The amount was so massive it shocked the public—Oliver still remembered that.

“It’s true some of the Flesh Cook’s wealth was seized, but not all of it. Think about it. Do you really think someone as greedy as him, who controlled half of Gallos’s underworld, would let some pathetic government officials find all his assets? No way.”

“Ah…”

Oliver nodded in understanding. It’s true that the newspapers said everything was found, but he never saw it firsthand.

One thing Oliver learned in Randa was that what’s in the news and what’s true can be very different.

“The Flesh Cook hid his secret funds all over Gallos, which is a country with lots of wealth and plenty of land.”

“And now, many factions are fighting to find those assets.”

Bartholomew, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up. Judging by his tone and the way he was acting, he seemed to know something. This was surprising since he usually stayed in Z-District.

“Many factions?”

“Yes… The remnants of the Flesh Cook, Millieu, mercenaries hired by the government, treasure hunters, and even black mages affiliated with the Black Hand. They’re all fighting over it.”

“By Black Hand, do you mean Puppet and Fen?”

“No, not them. Other ones. Ambitious types who want to take over the Flesh Cook’s spot.”

“Ambitious types…?”

“They are part of the Black Hand but haven’t earned the title of ‘fingers.’ They’re in a rather awkward position.”

Oliver more or less understood.

Although the Black Hand was known as a single organization of black mages, a closer look revealed it wasn’t exactly one.

There was no clear leader, and no established chain of command.

Rather than a single organization, it was closer to a coalition or federation of multiple black mage groups.

The strongest black mages among them were simply called ‘fingers.’

‘Puppet Immortal, Flesh Cook, Eternal Child Fen, Kidnapper Pied Piper.’

Oliver recalled the four black mages who represented the Black Hand.

Coincidentally, Oliver had already met three of them, and of those three, one was dead, and another had suffered significant physical and mental damage from a demon.

Ewan pointed this out.

“That’s why Gallos is in chaos now. Those who ruled as predators for decades, or even centuries, are gone, so of course others want to take their place.”

“I’ve heard that… But it sounds as if the peace was maintained because of Flesh Cook and Fen.”

“Not just sounds like—it’s true. Though it wasn’t their intention.”

“Really?”

Oliver asked, intrigued. The idea that peace was maintained by the fingers was ironic.

“It might sound strange and contradictory, but it’s the truth. The presence of the fingers kept the other black mages in check. It’s like how animals behave differently when a lion is around.”

“That’s an interesting story. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Adults don’t usually tell kids uncomfortable truths. They prefer teaching things in simple black and white. It’s easy and convenient. But as I said, it’s a fact. Especially Flesh Cook—he was really good at it. He had a strong sense of territoriality.”

Oliver remembered the Flesh Cook.

A person who claimed humans eat humans and turned the Capital of Gallos, Ravely, into a living hell for his own objectives.

He was the epitome of a black mage, but ironically, he valued his sister more than his own life. Even when his body was being pierced, he screamed to save her.

“Of course, he didn’t do it with good intentions. The guy was a thug and a scoundrel. No way he’d do that. He was just protecting his own interest.”

“When you say interest, you mean Gallos?”

“Yes. By being in Gallos, which covers the largest territory in the area, the Flesh Cook suppressed black mages almost as effectively as the Holy Knights. Not only the ones in Gallos, but even those in neighboring countries. If something seemed even slightly dangerous, he’d personally turn them into his dinner.”

“But now, things aren’t like that anymore?”

Bartholomew answered.

“That’s correct. With the disappearance of the Flesh Cook, his organization and influence have essentially collapsed, and to make matters worse, a huge void has opened in Gallos’s underworld. As a result, both the forces in the shadows and the light are fighting over the Flesh Cook’s legacy and position. Everyone wants to become the next Flesh Cook.”

Oliver nodded. He had heard similar things right after defeating the Flesh Cook and was somewhat aware of it.

However, digging into the details made it feel a bit different.

You knew chaos would emerge after the fall of the Flesh Cook, but you never expected that he played a role as a suppressant as well.

“…This is pretty fascinating.”

“Nothing exists without a reason, and everything has a role… So, are you in?”

Ewan proposed again, casually as though Oliver would sign right then and there if he wasn’t careful.

“Hmm, I’m not sure…”

Oliver hesitated. Honestly, it was a proposal he would usually reject.

While he understood the immense value of the Flesh Cook’s legacy and certainly had a liking for money, he normally didn’t have a need for such a large sum.

However, this time things were different.

“…Does the Flesh Cook’s legacy include any Grimoire?”

“I like this. Now, we’re finally on the same page… It’s not certain, but there are rumors. They say that among the Flesh Cook’s legacy, there’s not only enormous wealth but also unique entities, black magic books, even Grimoire that he collected.”

“So, it’s not certain.”

“If it were definite, that means I’d have seen it myself, and if that were the case, I wouldn’t have come to you. Are you nuts?”

He had a point. These sorts of things inherently involved some level of uncertainty.

“…Could you give me all the Grimoire we find?”

“So, I can take everything else? The items, unique materials, assets—everything other than the Grimoire?”

Oliver was about to nod but hesitated.

“Hmm…”

“Don’t think too hard. It makes me anxious.”

“What if we split the assets 50-50, and you keep the items and unique materials?”

“Oh, come on. Why? What’s the problem?”

“Well, I’m not in a hurry, but I do need money.”

Oliver remembered a conversation he had with Marie a few days ago.

It was about how the local branch of The Selectors was struggling financially. It made sense, of course.

Filgarett was the largest source of The Selectors’ income in the past, but strictly speaking, it had been an illegal business. The risk of getting caught was high, so Marie immediately ceased all production after settling in Randa—at Oliver’s request.

‘The redevelopment project is bringing in money again, but it’s still a close call. The Selectors have grown so large now.’

That’s why Oliver suggested splitting any wealth they found from the Flesh Cook. Although Oliver already had a sizable fortune, it seemed foolish not to earn more when possible.

“I’m disappointed in you. Where did that gullible guy go, and when did you become so shrewd? I want my pushover back!”

“Sorry. If I didn’t need the money right now, I’d give it all to you, but I think I will need it.”

“What if I say no?”

“Hmm… Then, I might go to Gallos by myself. I know someone there who might work with me.”

Oliver thought of Lucien Murat, whom he had met in Gallos.

Lucien was the leader of the Murat Family within Millieu, the Crime Firm of Gallos, whom Oliver had some acquaintance with. If Millieu was involved in the dispute over the Flesh Cook’s legacy, there was a high chance Lucien was participating.

Hearing this, Ewan shouted as if he had been betrayed.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I gave you good information, and now you’re betraying me?”

“I’m really sorry… But I didn’t promise anything beforehand, so I don’t think it’s such a big deal.”

“Damn, that’s logical.”

“I sincerely apologize. But I really do need the money.”

Oliver explained after recalling the financial situation of The Selectors and his new responsibilities as a co-owner of the business.

But Ewan wasn’t backing down either.

“I need money too! For my dream!”

“A dream? What’s that?”

“To waste hundreds of billions of Randa in one night on gambling, drinking, and partying.”

Ewan answered with a determined expression. Surprisingly, he was serious. Oliver narrowed his eyes as he looked at him.

***

After hearing Ewan’s dream, Oliver had a conversation with him for a few minutes and they finally came to an agreement.

Normally, this kind of thing would be Forest’s responsibility, but since a quick decision was needed, Oliver had to handle it.

Fortunately, Oliver had learned something by watching Forest, and they arrived at a mostly satisfactory deal.

Ewan’s displeased face and emotions were proof of that.

“This sucks.”

“Thank you for the compliment. If it’s not too much trouble, when do you intend to leave?”

“Sooner is better. Who knows, someone might find the Flesh Cook’s legacy while we sit here.”

At Ewan’s words, Oliver looked down the hallway where Bartholomew had been guiding them.

At the distant end of the endless corridor, a feeling similar to the one from the Anti-Development Committee—both alien and familiar—was thick.

Surprisingly, as Oliver looked at it, he felt a bit curious and yet slightly uneasy, something he hadn’t felt before.

He couldn’t figure out why. Was it because he was short on time and had a lot to do?

“Hmm… Can you give me a little time? I’ve got some things to take care of and preparations to make.”

“Preparations?”

“Yes, since there will be a lot of black mages, I think I should be ready.”

“Not a bad idea. Fine. I’ve got some work to do myself… Besides, news about the Flesh Cook’s legacy is still pretty fresh. Maybe waiting for the chaos to die down a bit and swooping in later could work in our favor.”

Ewan surprisingly agreed without much fuss. After thanking him, Oliver turned his attention to Bartholomew.

“Mr. Bartholomew… I’m sorry, but it looks like I have to go. May I take my leave?”

Even though Oliver wanted to leave after Bartholomew had taken the trouble to guide him, Bartholomew, though a little disappointed, soon nodded.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as permission was given, Oliver immediately turned back the way he had come, leaving alone.

As Oliver disappeared into the darkness, Ewan mockingly commented.

“Was I a hindrance?”

“…No.”

Bartholomew answered after a brief pause and continued down the opposite path from where Oliver had gone.

“Really?”

Ewan followed after Bartholomew, asking again. It could have been annoying, but Bartholomew didn’t seem to mind.

“I wasn’t trying to interrupt your conversation, but it seemed like you were about to share some secrets. Was I wrong?”

Bartholomew replied.

“You’re right… But if he left in the middle of it, that means his interest in us only went that far. Nothing to regret.”

“Heh… Remarkable. The savior you’ve been waiting for doesn’t even care about you.”

Bartholomew’s bandage-wrapped face twisted slightly in disappointment. He knew it already, though. From the start, he knew Dave wasn’t really interested in them. But even so, they led him here out of their own selfish desires.

“There’s nothing we can do. We’re the ones who caused this mess in the first place. We can’t expect more from someone who’s already carrying an unfair burden.”

Bartholomew spoke calmly as if he had resigned himself to something, though hope still lingered in his heart.

After a while, Bartholomew and Ewan arrived at a door deep underground. It was a shabby yet elegant door, and when it creaked open, it revealed a twisted space that was black and squishy, almost like flesh.

Inside that bizarre and unsettling space were all sorts of warped humans, and they were carving a giant, dark red tree into the shape of a door.

“All we can do is hope for salvation. Whatever the result, we must accept it and do our work.”