Chapter 711: Facts Already Known: 711. Wooden Block

Facts already known: 711. Wooden Block (1).

“Aaaaahhh!!!”

Inside a red-painted prison.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!!!”

The desperate scream of a woman echoed.

It sounded as though her neck had been severed.

In truth, it practically was.

Though her neck wasn’t truly severed, the woman felt the pain as if it had been. Non-stop.

“Where are Joe and Sir Forest?”

“Screw you! I don’t know!! Aaagh… Aaaahhhh!!”

Surprisingly, the woman with the severed neck… To be precise, the zombified puppet Davinel, who was connected to the puppet beyond, felt the pain (decapitation) but still didn’t answer Oliver’s question.

Where Forest and Joe were locked up.

Oliver, though, kept repeating the same question like a broken radio.

“Where are Joe and Sir Forest?”

“I don’t know! I said I don’t know… Kill me!! Urk… Aaahhh!!”

As the excruciating pain of her severed neck continued, Davinel’s screams gradually grew quieter.

It was a rather rare occurrence.

After all, the best part of manipulating zombified puppets, the essence of manipulative dark magic, was their safety.

Though the cost of handling a zombified puppet required high skill, various knowledge, and considerable funds, once met, it guaranteed absolute safety.

Through the puppet, the sorcerer could carry out any task safely from afar.

By blocking the sensation of pain with magic, one could even escape suffering and easily sever the connection if necessary.

Just as Davinel was trying to do now while her head was being torn off.

“Aaah… Ahhh…”

But she failed.

Oliver was still holding her head (the zombie puppet), preventing her from cutting the connection.

That’s why Davinel, feeling that same pain of having the zombie puppet’s head cut off, let out endless screams.

Because Oliver wanted her to suffer.

“Aaah…”

This was dangerous.

While the puppet and the sorcerer were independent beings, if they shared pain, things changed.

Just as the body could affect the mind, the mind could also affect the body.

If Davinel kept feeling the pain of a beheading, her body wouldn’t be able to withstand the mental strain.

Davinel understood this too.

Still, she pretended not to know where Forest and Joe were.

For the sake of Puppet, who raised her and taught her the dark arts.

“You… are all so complicated.”

Oliver stood in a quiet corner, passing through a hallway coated in blood and strewn with corpses.

As he stopped, Davinel’s eyes, which had been dulled by the pain, suddenly snapped open.

Why?

Was it because Oliver had figured out where Forest and Joe were without being told? Or the malice behind his repeated question?

She couldn’t tell.

Oliver didn’t know exactly either. He just did it. Just because.

“Where are Joe and Sir Forest?”

Despite being at the entrance, Oliver shamelessly repeated the same question.

A sense of despair, humiliation, and terror washed over Davinel.

Flash.

At that moment, Oliver raised the head he was holding and forced her to meet his eyes.

Thanks to that, Davinel saw it.

Oliver’s eyes, seemingly empty yet bottomless.

Facing that void, Davinel felt a fundamental discomfort as if her very soul was being peeled apart.

“…I don’t know…”

Davinel wished for death.

If that monster kept holding her like this, she felt as though something sacred inside would break. This monster could do it.

That’s why she wished for death. Dying while fulfilling Puppet’s wish would at least be a meaningful end.

‘…But why?’

Yet death didn’t come. It was so close, but at the same time, it would not approach.

“Because I don’t want you to die.”

Oliver told her, staring into her eyes.

Why she couldn’t die.

Because Oliver didn’t want her to.

He wanted her to feel this way forever.

***

“Aah, aaaah…”

Upon hearing Oliver’s answer, Davinel let out a groan different from her earlier screams.

Oliver casually picked up her head again and tapped the wall with the Quarterstaff in his other hand, revealing a hidden door.

Creeeeak.

As the door hidden in the wall opened, a staircase appeared.

Going down this staircase led to the secret prison where prisoners that needed to be smuggled out were held.

“Ah, no—”

“Shh.”

When Oliver made a gesture for her to stay quiet, Davinel’s lips instantly shut as if sewn together, preventing any sound.

Thanks to that, even in her decapitated state, she couldn’t scream or speak.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Oliver walked down the stairs, eventually reaching the entrance to the hidden underground prison.

“Haaa…”

Oliver let out a tiny sigh.

Joe, Forest, and, for some reason, Captain Hook were there.

The thought of meeting them soon reminded Oliver of the time he’d met Marie again.

When courageously returning to Randa, meeting Marie, and confronting her sins.

Tap.

Oliver took another step.

“What’s going on up—”

Forest, who peeked through the prison bars, stopped mid-sentence.

Oliver, who hadn’t been heard from since leaving for the Central Continent, stood there holding a woman’s head. Understandable surprise.

“Dave?”

Forest, shocked, slipped and accidentally spoke.

Hearing that, Joe and Captain Hook also peered out from their cells and saw Oliver.

“Dave…”

They too called out Oliver’s alias, “Dave,” a false name based on the deceased son of Kent.

“Why use that name?”

“Hello.”

Oliver, who had left for the Central Continent with the Dark Priest and defeated the Pied Piper, suddenly appeared in the prison and greeted them, as if it were the most normal thing.

It was very Oliver.

Truthfully, Oliver was the kind of person who made anything seem plausible.

But this time it wasn’t so simple.

Forest, gazing at Oliver, sensed something different in him.

It wasn’t like the time when Oliver came back emaciated or with one arm burned.

The outer appearance was easy to change, but the inside wasn’t.

Oliver had changed on the inside. Whether that was for better or worse, Forest couldn’t say.

“Captain Hook, why are you here?”

While Forest was lost in thought, Oliver asked looking at Hook.

Why was someone who should be in Bean City here?

“Let’s just say I got persuaded into a bad move.”

“What about Ewan?”

“Well, it’s a long story.”

“Did you come here to help us?”

Joe, listening nearby, interrupted.

“He came to help when the Zombie Army invaded Randa. Rode in on a flying ship, though it did fail.”

“Really?”

Though it was quite the touching story, Oliver was calm.

Yet, no one questioned it.

Partly due to the strange pressure radiating from Oliver, but more because they had far more pressing questions.

For instance, what had happened in the Central Continent? Did Oliver really defeat the Pied Piper? What did it have to do with the disappearance of Holy Power? Why was he holding that guard’s head? How had he gotten into the prison? And most of all, why was he here?

“Because Nora asked me to.”

Before anyone asked, Oliver answered.

As if reading their minds.

Upon hearing the mention of the girl who had been under the care of their now-dead comrade, Joe reacted.

“Nora?”

“Yes… She said, ‘You don’t need to apologize. Please save Joe instead.’ If she hadn’t asked me to, I might not have come.”

Joe, who was imprisoned, didn’t understand.

What on earth was Oliver talking about? What had happened?

Rumble-rumble.

The entire building began to shake.

Even the prison, designed to withstand the rampages of superhumans.

Rather than ceasing, the tremors grew stronger, as if something massive was approaching.

Splat!

An overwhelming flood of blood and flesh surged into the underground prison.

“…!!”

Even battle-hardened contractors and pirates took involuntary steps back at the sight.

Only Oliver remained calm.

He stood still, watching the tidal wave of blood, flesh, and bones surge.

Just before it swallowed the underground prison, it stopped suddenly at Oliver’s feet and then slowly receded.

As though it possessed its own will.

Wriggle… wriggle…

The mix of human body parts twisted like clay, then bubbled and began to take on a human form.

A 63-year-old man, bald on top with thick eyebrows, a beard, and stern yet kind eyes.

His face radiated a strict yet benevolent aura.

Looking at the horrible figure, Oliver greeted it politely.

“Hello, Sir Puppet.”

***

The prison, filled with blood, flesh, and bones, gathered in the underground prison and morphed into the shape of a human.

It shocked the veteran pirate who had spent his life chasing Neverland, froze the face of the toughest contractor from Randa’s X-District, and made the underworld broker, used to death, vomit.

Even for those who lived rough lives, this was an unbelievable sight. For Oliver, though, such things were routine.

“You’ve learned an interesting trick.”

Oliver recalled the old man and the woman riding a camel.

A skill that allowed one’s consciousness to manifest in reality using a sacrificial human as a medium.

“Considering you’re proficient in manipulative dark arts, you likely dislike waste. I didn’t invade Randa by choice, but since I’m here, I may as well use this… Including the cracks in Hell.”

Oliver guessed what the Hell’s crack referred to.

He’d sensed the familiar aura of Hell as soon as he returned to Randa.

Plus, Marie had informed him of the situation.

Hell’s cracks had appeared all over the country during the cleanup after the Pied Piper’s attack, in places the government couldn’t reach.

Puppet had been using that power.

The power flowing from Hell’s cracks.

It wasn’t surprising given he’d lived for centuries.

But there were more pressing questions.

“You didn’t want to?”

Though he knew it was true, Oliver asked again, wanting to hear it directly from Puppet.

“Yes, I really didn’t want to invade Randa. It’s a terribly risky endeavor.”

Puppet admitted it.

Admitted that he feared Oliver.

Even so, Puppet overcame that fear to invade Randa and all but conquer it.

“Because you broke your promise first.”

“I never broke my promise to you, Sir Puppet.”

“But you did break your agreement with the Pied Piper—allowing the Prince to go free under the condition you wouldn’t interfere.”

For anyone hearing it for the first time, it would have been a shocking revelation—to hear that Puppet had ordered the Pied Piper to kidnap Prince Albert.

“I kept my promise to you, Sir Puppet, through Unbent Knee.”

“Whomever the promise was through doesn’t matter. The promise itself broke, and so is ours now.”

Puppet pointed with a finger made from bones and flesh at Davinel’s head, which Oliver held in one hand.

That head contained the consciousness of the zombified puppet, Davinel Gavel, who had been raised by Puppet since childhood.

Oliver threw Davinel’s head straight at Puppet.

Whoosh. The head flew.

Davinel’s eyes widened in shock, but Puppet batted her head aside like litter and smashed it.

It happened in an instant.

No one could quite grasp what had just occurred, but one thing was clear.

None of this was what one might call “human.”

Neither Oliver nor Puppet.

“…You don’t seem surprised.”

Puppet, watching how calmly Oliver reacted to Davinel’s destroyed head, asked.

Though more out of courtesy to carry on the conversation than genuine curiosity.

“Just a puppet trying to mimic humanity. Nothing to be surprised about.”