Chapter 768: Oliver

If we turn the clock back a bit, quite a few things had happened.

The heart of the United Kingdom, the Capital, faced an apocalypse, only to be saved in the nick of time.

It was thanks to a boy with twelve wings.

A miracle, to put it lightly.

However, the aftermath of that miracle caused a series of small and large disturbances in the Capital.

Though not crimes like looting, arson, or murder, they were perhaps more deadly in their way…

A new faith was beginning to take root. It was only natural, given that a god-like entity had appeared before their very eyes.

Fortunately, those who were personally selected by that god-like being were able to suppress these disturbances, so it wasn’t too bad just yet.

Still, it was clear a new religion was slowly budding in the United Kingdom’s Capital.

Whether that god-like being wanted it or not.

Interestingly enough, something similar was also happening in Randa.

“Is this because of me?”

“Of course, it’s because of you.”

Forest, a businessman, answered as he drank beside Oliver, who was increasingly being revered as a god without realizing it.

If anyone else saw them, they might call it blasphemous, but Oliver didn’t seem to mind the attitude.

Forest spoke this way intentionally, knowing full well that Oliver found it more comfortable.

“Of course, it’s not entirely your fault. The situation was beyond your control. You had no choice but to fight the Zombie Army, which had overtaken the Capital, and the Royal Army.”

Forest explained the reasons why Oliver’s faith was also spreading in Randa.

The first reason was because Oliver had single-handedly liberated Randa.

The broadcast the Royal Army staged as a propaganda tool became a victory announcement, revealing that Oliver, by himself, had defeated both the Royal Army and Puppet’s Zombie Army. This news spread across all of Randa.

“Even though the City Council dressed it up with stories of teamwork and joint efforts, it doesn’t change the fact that you liberated the city all by yourself. And without a single casualty, no less.”

“That wasn’t really my intention, so it feels a bit awkward.”

“Well, what else could you do? People naturally revere powerful forces. Do you know why that is?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Because powerful forces invoke both fear and admiration. Those are emotions people can’t leave unresolved.”

“So, people resolve that by worshipping?”

“Exactly. Humans are weak beings, after all.”

In the past, Oliver might not have understood such an explanation, but now, he could at least grasp it somewhat. While he hadn’t fully accepted it, he at least comprehended it.

Forest then went on to explain the second reason.

“While you were busy saving the Capital, Big Mouth played a significant role here as well.”

“Are you referring to when the citizens were evacuated underground?”

While Oliver was stopping the apocalypse at the Capital, Paul Carver, with the City Councilors, had converted Randa’s underground into a massive bunker.

This was a contingency plan, in case Oliver failed to prevent the apocalypse.

It was a ludicrously large project, but the City Council managed to succeed, with Big Mouth being one of the main reasons it was possible.

Blessed by Oliver, Big Mouth provided food, medical supplies, and all necessary resources to support the people of Randa underground, enabling them to survive despite the impossible logistical challenges.

“The Gluttonous Pouch that provides endless food and resources for everyone… That’s a miracle. And the fact that it was given out without asking for anything in return makes it even more so.”

“If I had known that…”

Oliver trailed off, wanting to say, ‘I wouldn’t have helped at all.’

Had he not helped, converting the underground into a bunker would have failed, and chaos would have inevitably ensued.

It wasn’t something he could joke about, even in jest.

“You seem troubled.”

“Does it show on my face?”

“A little. More than before.”

Oliver unconsciously touched his face.

Watching him, Forest joked.

“Even with omnipotent power, you still make that kind of face. How amusing.”

“I’m not omnipotent.”

“True, you’re not. That’s why I plan on writing a book.”

Forest clicked his fingers and forcefully pointed at Oliver.

“To let people know you’re not all-knowing or all-powerful. That’s the proof. After all…”

Forest paused briefly before continuing.

“You cannot stop the people who worship you, can you? It’s a kind of paradox. That’s why I think my plan is clever, right?”

Oliver agreed.

“Yes… You’re helping with things I can’t handle myself.”

“I’m your intermediary, after all, right? It’s my job to fill in the gaps where you can’t.”

Forest said, full of pride. It wasn’t arrogance, but a sincere desire to help Oliver.

Even that sentiment soon faded.

“… But no matter how hard I try, my book won’t stop people from believing. Faith is hard to instill, but even harder to take away.”

“Sounds like you’ve experienced this firsthand.”

“How long do you think I’ve been in this business? Do you know how many cults sprung up in Randa’s underworld? Of course, I’m not saying you’re a cult.”

“You can call it a cult. Honestly, it kind of is.”

Forest found the irony amusing. As fakes pretended to be real, the real entity called itself fake.

Or perhaps only a real being could call itself fake. It was a right reserved for the genuine.

“Well, others won’t think so, whether you want them to or not. Worship isn’t for gods, but for people. It’s how they deal with fear and overcome their own weaknesses.”

Oliver listened silently.

Then Forest suddenly posed a question.

“Can’t you erase their memories? If you’re tired of being worshiped, erasing their memories of you should solve everything.”

It was a question assuming that Oliver could do virtually anything.

Oliver took a sip of his drink before answering.

“I could, but I won’t.”

“Is it because the apocalypse would be forgotten, too?”

“No. I could erase memories of just myself while leaving the rest, but it would be pointless. Manipulating people like that.”

“…”

“It’s like handing fish to someone who’s trying to catch them. The result may be the same, but the process is the complete opposite.”

“So, you’re saying people need to become the fishermen themselves?”

“Yes. That’s how it should be.”

“Ha… It’s complicated.”

“It’s really not. You already know this, Forest.”

Oliver smiled toward Forest, who had taken in the Red Ones and ultimately entrusted them with a restaurant.

Forest smirked as if amused by the comparison.

“Then I’ll have to work even harder on writing this book to show others that you’re no different from them.”

Oliver silently agreed.

“That you have limitations, that you make mistakes, that you’re still human with a desire for money and a sense of humor.”

“I’m not unfunny. I’m quite amusing, actually.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha… That one was a bit funny.”

Forest gave a forced laugh, the kind that said, ‘No matter what you claim, I won’t admit it.’

“I like you, Forest, but that attitude of yours is a bit annoying.”

“If you’re dissatisfied, then you write the book.”

“I never regretted working with you, but maybe now I slightly do.”

“You need disappointment to grow… Anyway, enough with the nonsense.”

“I’m serious, though.”

Forest ignored Oliver’s words lightly and stood up, bringing out a contract.

It was about the future profits from the book.

The terms were simple. A 50-50 split, with Oliver’s share going to the Redevelopment Union.

“Originally, I was going to get your signature after the book was done, but I feel like it might be hard to catch you later-”

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Before Forest could finish, Oliver had already signed the contract without a second thought.

Forest, knowing what that signature implied, darkened his expression.

“… Does this mean we won’t meet again?”

Forest asked as he took the signed contract.

Oliver shook his head.

“We will meet again one day.”

“Can’t you at least bid farewell to Marie and Joe, even Miss Jane?”

“I’ve already had the necessary talks with them. They’re all doing their jobs well, proving my point. It’s a bit sad, but this is how it should be. Too much is not good.”

“That’s… true.”

Forest begrudgingly admitted it.

He understood how even the smallest action by Oliver had massive consequences.

Even an insignificant gesture from him could be blown out of proportion and spiral into a great storm.

At that moment, Forest finally understood why Oliver was so hesitant to directly intervene with people.

Because tampering with them that way would ultimately lead to removing them altogether.

Erasing them when they weren’t needed, only to create them again when they were.

A convenient, efficient, and yet horribly cruel method.

Perhaps this explained why gods kept their distance from humans.

“It must be terribly lonely.”

“Do I seem that way?”

“If I may say so, yes. As someone who’s acted as a middleman, I’ve met many powerful and influential people. Ironically enough, all those with too much end up lonely.”

Forest spoke a truth disguised as a joke.

When people gained too much, loneliness followed.

Whether it was family, friends, or lovers, people no longer saw them as fellow humans but as wallets or powerhouses.

It was no wonder so many kings throughout history fell victim to paranoia and distrust.

Great blessings often felt like curses; they consumed one’s existence.

If even humans who lived less than a century faced this, what about beings close to gods?

Forest was beginning to understand why Oliver had struggled so much.

“I think differently.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, because you’re here.”

“Those words… make me a little happy.”

Forest smiled warmly, while Oliver stood up from his chair. At the same time, he moved closer, exploiting the gap in Forest’s guard.

“Speaking of which, may I ask for a favor? As my intermediary?”

As Forest rose to his feet, he responded.

“I feel like I’m being tricked, but speak. I’ll endure it.”

With permission granted, Oliver handed over his quarterstaff.

“Could you take care of this? I need to pass it on to someone, but I’m afraid it might cause misunderstandings.”

“This…”

Forest hesitated to accept the quarterstaff.

It had been a gift from Kent, and it held deep meaning for Oliver.

No, more than just an object, it was almost like a part of his body.

“Are you serious?”

“I no longer need it. I trust you’ll make good use of it.”

“…Alright.”

After a long silence, Forest finally accepted the quarterstaff with trembling hands.

It felt heavy, not only in weight but in meaning.

“One more thing. Could I also ask you to look after Child? Help him, along with the employees at Angel’s House, adjust to society.”

“That’s quite a big favor.”

“Which is why I’m asking. By the way, it won’t need any life force or emotion anymore.”

“That’s why you need to be even warier when someone asks for a favor.”

Even as he grumbled, Forest nodded his head.

“Is that all for your requests?”

“I could ask for more, but I feel like you’d get angry, so I’ll stop.”

“I appreciate that.”

Forest extended his hand.

Oliver shook it firmly.

As he held Oliver’s hand tightly, Forest asked in a low voice.

“So now it’s time to leave?”

“Yes, I enjoyed it till the very end. Just like when I first arrived… Did you have fun too, Forest?”

“Fun? No, it was an honor.”

With a heartfelt smile, Forest conveyed his emotions.

Oliver, satisfied with that smile, quietly opened the office door and left.

Tadak. Tadak. Ting-! Click!

Beyond the closed door, the sound of Forest returning to his work could be heard, while Oliver walked down the hall to the front entrance.

Clatter. Clatter. Clink.

Upon stepping outside, instead of seeing X-District, he saw Z-District.

It was as if he had crossed space itself.

There, people were waiting for him: the Anti-Development Committee members who had escaped Hell’s curse, along with Eve, Pandora, and Lilith. Lastly, Ewan.

“Have you all been waiting long?”