Chapter 2

2. The Chosen Child (2)

Mumble, mumble, mumble.

A black mass, resembling clay or smoke, moved in the air following Oliver's fingertips.

At first, he could only make a simple round ball of light, but in less than half a day, he could shape it into triangles, squares, stars, donuts, and even human figures.

Despite this, Oliver didn't seem to get bored and began to make the light more complex and intricate, forming shapes like cones, Möbius strips, and spider webs. It was as if he were a child with a new toy.

"Is it fun?"

Joseph, who was walking ahead, asked.

"Yes, I never thought I could do something like this... It's amazing."

Oliver answered with genuine admiration. Though his appearance was sullen and his voice was low, his joy was sincere. He was amazed at how he could use this black light.

"Is this light what you call black magic?"

"It's not light, but emotion."

"Emotion?"

"Yes, anger, sadness, hatred... Handling these emotions is the foundation of black magic. It may seem trivial, but it's a very powerful force. Emotions are a kind of energy that comes from the soul, similar to the magic power that comes from a magic stone. By the way, you have good skill in handling them, but your own emotions are not very strong."

"Really?"

"Exactly as I said. Your emotions are small and weak. But it doesn't matter. You can use others' emotions. That's the proper way."

At these words, Oliver's eyes, which had been dull, lit up. It was as if a corpse had come back to life.

"You can use others' emotions? How?"

"That's not difficult. It's similar to how you see and handle emotions now. If you have enough talent, anyone can do it. Think of it as a sixth sense, a kind of intuition, or using invisible muscles."

Although Oliver couldn't fully understand the difficult words and frowned, he instinctively realized one thing: he had enough talent. He was certain of it, though he had no concrete evidence.

At that moment, Oliver's rigid brain began to spark with imagination. He envisioned himself handling not just small lights but massive ones. His cold heart began to warm up.

Like how saliva builds up when you see delicious food, or how you get absorbed when you see a beautiful woman, a primitive desire began to surface.

Oliver asked quietly.

"Can you teach me more? About black magic."

Quiet but greedy, Oliver's eyes. Joseph, seeing this, hesitated for a moment before answering.

"That... I'll teach you more when we get home."

Oliver wanted to ask for more right there and then. It was the first time he had taken an interest in something, so it was a natural reaction.

However, seeing Joseph, he displayed superhuman patience and held back his words. The reason was simple: the light emanating from Joseph's body.

The light that flashed when he was angry, the light that rippled when he was sad, the light that trembled when he was afraid.

Oliver, who had seen such lights since birth, used them to gauge people's moods and avoid critical moments. He realized that if he didn't listen to Joseph now, he wouldn't get what he wanted.

Indeed, Joseph wanted obedience. Realizing this, Oliver, using the survival skills he had honed over the years, pretended to be the obedient livestock Joseph wanted.

Joseph, seemingly pleased with this attitude, smiled slightly and continued walking down the road, while Oliver, playing the role of a good boy, quietly followed behind. However, even then, Oliver couldn't stop thinking about black magic. Rather, he craved it more greedily.

***

A considerable amount of time had passed since their last conversation, but Joseph and Oliver hadn't exchanged a single word. They just walked silently.

Objectively, walking on the road for a long time without taking a car or train was no small feat, but Oliver didn't mind.

Although he was still a child, he had already been trained in heavy labor, so just walking was like a stroll. Besides, he used his emotions to play various games while walking, so he wasn't bored.

At most, he used his emotions to create various shapes more quickly and complexly, or to move them from his right hand to his left. But this wasn't a meaningless act.

As time passed and the number of attempts increased, his basic skills in handling emotions improved rapidly. Moreover, Oliver's rigid brain began to awaken gradually.

Suddenly, Oliver thought about what he could do with these emotions.

Could he transform them into specific forms for particular uses, like a miner's pickaxe or a kitchen knife?

Or perhaps, he could go beyond simple light and recreate something entirely new through processing. He hadn't learned this, but his instinct told him so.

In this way, Oliver's understanding and imagination of black magic blossomed without him realizing it. And just as the first bud was about to bloom, Joseph's voice was heard.

"Good. There's an inn over there."

Oliver, who had been lost in his imaginary laboratory, snapped back to reality.

Looking up, he saw that night had fallen, and the sky was dark. The road and the surrounding forest were shrouded in darkness, with the only light coming from the lonely inn in the distance.

Joseph turned to Oliver and said.

"We're lucky. To find an inn in such a remote place."

Without a moment's hesitation, Joseph approached the inn. The warm yellow light made the heart feel at ease, and as they entered, the fragrant smell of food and warm air greeted them.

"Oh, welcome."

The innkeeper, a large middle-aged man, greeted Joseph with a salesman's ingratiating smile, rubbing his hands together.

"Thank you for coming. How many of you are there?"

"Two, me and this kid. Do you have a room for one night?"

"Of course, we do. Please, follow me."

The innkeeper bowed politely and led them to a room. On the way, they saw the dining room, where there were three or four other guests besides Joseph and Oliver.

"The food looks delicious, doesn't it?"

Joseph said, looking at the food on the guests' tables. The food they were eating looked quite delicious: freshly baked bread, stew, cheese, and meat with bones—rare fare for such a remote inn.

The innkeeper laughed and replied.

"Thank you for the compliment. It's a kind of business strategy. As you can see, it's a remote inn, so it's a bit difficult to get customers. We can only deal with occasional travelers or truck drivers... So, we try to make the food delicious to attract more customers."

"Indeed. It does look delicious. The chef must be good."

"Yes, that's right. It's all my wife's work. We run the place with a total of five people, including the staff. Of course, you'll be having a meal, right?"

"Of course, we'll eat... But can we have it in the room? I want to eat quietly. I'll pay extra."

At that moment, the innkeeper's facial muscles twitched slightly.

"Ah... Yes, of course. Here's your room. I'll bring the food in a moment. Do you need anything else?"

"No."

"Alright, then... I'll be right back."

The innkeeper hurriedly went down to the first floor, and in the meantime, Joseph and Oliver entered the room. As Joseph took off his coat, he asked.

"What do you think of that innkeeper? Was he kind?"

"Well... I'm not sure, but he seemed strange."

"Hehehe. Indeed, right?"

Joseph laughed. He certainly seemed like a good innkeeper, but something didn't feel right.

About 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A burly man, who appeared to be a staff member, brought in a tray of food.

"Here's your food."

"Wow..."

Joseph marveled at the generous spread of freshly baked bread, stew, and meat. Joseph gave the staff member a generous tip, and the man smiled and said.

"Please leave the empty dishes outside the door after you're done. If you need anything, just let us know."

After the staff member left, Oliver and Joseph looked at each other.

An hour later, the empty dishes and plates were placed outside the door, and the innkeeper, upon seeing them, smiled wickedly.

***

In the middle of the night.

In the inn room, thud! thud! A dull sound echoed. It was like the sound of meat being hammered, and it was almost correct.

People are meat, after all.

"Phew..."

The innkeeper wiped the sweat from his forehead, or was it blood?

At his feet lay one of the inn's guests. Though it was dark and he couldn't see clearly, he had hit the guest's head several times with a hammer, so the guest would be quiet for a while.

"Ugh... I won't be able to do this for a few more years."

"Come on, sir. You're still in good shape. You can do it for 20 more years."

"Shut up. Shut up. In 20 years, I'll be how old? I want to live more dignifiedly in my old age. Anyway, is this the end?"

"Um... No. There's one more at the end of the corridor. A man and a child."

"Oh, right. The ones who ate in their room. Phew... We're lucky today. Should we try a bit more?"

"They can't be awake, can they?"

"Don't worry. They cleaned their plates. They even licked the sauce clean."

"Oh, that's a relief. I was worried because the atmosphere was strange..."

"Yeah, especially the kid. He looked unpleasant. Not like a corpse or anything."

"Who are they? They don't seem to be father and son."

"Who knows? The kid has soot on his body, so he's probably from the nearby coal mine. Sometimes, perverts who like workers or children, or those who need experimental subjects, visit."

"Wow, that's despicable."

The innkeeper and his subordinate stood in front of the room where Joseph and Oliver were staying. They waited for a moment at the door, whispering to each other.

"One..."

Nod.

"Two..."

Nod.

"Three-"

- Bang! Crash! Thud! Thud!

Just as they were about to open the door and enter, it suddenly broke, and something poured out. It was like beads, and it happened so quickly that the inn staff was startled and fell to the ground.

When he regained his senses, all he could see were the broken door fragments and the innkeeper, who was lying on the ground, pierced through the body and bleeding.

What the... There was no gunshot, but his heart was pounding, and he couldn't breathe.

Then, footsteps sounded, and someone walked out of the room. It was the guest. He looked down at the staff member and said.

"One."