Chapter 41

41. Organization (3)

Knock, knock.

The sound of knocking on the door.

Oliver, who was reading a book in the study, turned his head without even looking up and replied.

"Come in. Mary."

As soon as he gave permission, Mary opened the door and came in.

In one of her hands was a tray with a sandwich.

"Good afternoon, Master."

"Yes... What is it?"

"It seems you haven't eaten, so I brought it for you."

Oliver slightly turned his head to look at Mary.

"Thank you."

Mary smiled as if it was nothing and placed the tray down.

She then glanced at the book Oliver was reading.

It was a book about the Anthony family, and there were also various other books stacked up.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just curious about what you're reading."

"No... I'm reading a book on black magic from the Anthony family. It's well-written, especially about manipulation magic. It covers animal manipulation, human manipulation, and corpse manipulation."

"Don't you already know how to do these things?"

"No... I can only mimic them. I didn't know that controlling the living is harder than controlling the dead, and controlling humans is harder than controlling animals until I read this book."

Oliver then reached for one of Dominic's books and continued.

"I also learned that disease-related black magic can be applied in various ways depending on interpretation and application."

"Indeed, you are remarkable."

"Not really. Looking at your books, it seems there's a lot more knowledge, but unfortunately, the books here only have traces of it, not detailed information."

Oliver looked at the bookshelves filled with books and said.

"Is that so... Have you almost finished reading them?"

"Not all, but almost. I'll finish soon."

"Oh... Are you overworking yourself?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Recently, you haven't been eating or sleeping properly, and I'm worried about you."

"...? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, absolutely not! On the contrary! Everyone truly respects you...!"

Mary spoke passionately.

"Everyone is struggling, but they genuinely respect you. Why wouldn't they? You've given us everything we've ever dreamed of—proper education, money, meals... If you go to the dining room, you'll see. You are truly... remarkable."

"Thank you... I'm glad to hear that."

Oliver answered indifferently and started reading again.

Of course, it was a natural reaction. For Oliver, it wasn't about earning respect or love; it was just a sense of duty.

He had freed himself from tedious chores and became a master who could give necessary orders, so he did what he had to do.

Thus, Oliver didn't feel particularly pleased by the respect and loyalty he had earned.

He had just done what he was supposed to do...

Mary felt frustrated by Oliver's indifferent reaction.

She was frustrated that Oliver didn't understand how significant his actions were and that she hadn't been recognized as a valuable presence to Oliver.

This frustration grew and eventually turned into a negative emotion.

Anxiety, obsession, desire, self-loathing, and then—thud!

"Mary."

Oliver suddenly closed his book.

Mary, surprised, replied.

"Yes? Master..."

"Come to think of it, there was something we agreed on, right?"

Agreement? Mary thought and remembered.

"Oh... Yes, we agreed to share stories."

Mary's pale face turned red.

At the time, she had pouted unconsciously when Oliver showed interest in a paladin. What was she thinking...?

Still, Mary harbored some hope.

Perhaps she could share something special with Oliver...

"We should keep our promises... But before we share stories, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes... Master."

"Why do you want to know about me?"

A simple curiosity. However, it was a difficult question to answer.

Mary remained silent for a long time.

She couldn't figure out how to answer such a simple question.

As the silence grew, Oliver interpreted it differently and spoke.

"Well, if you don't want to—"

"—No!"

Mary spoke loudly without realizing it.

"No... I don't want to say it's that I don't want to... Can you wait a moment for my answer?"

"...Sure, take your time."

Oliver waited as promised. After a long time, Mary finally spoke.

"I... want to be close to you, Master."

"Close to me?"

"Yes, I want to be near you."

"...Like a disciple?"

It was partly true but also partly false.

Mary definitely wanted that position, but she wanted more. She just couldn't say it out loud.

"You might not know, but no one has helped me as much as you have."

"Me?"

"Yes... You're the only one who taught me black magic and trained me so thoroughly."

"...? Didn't I teach you as part of the deal for learning to read?"

"...But, those two things can't really be compared."

"Isn't value relative?"

"Still, I'm very grateful. I was almost giving up. On becoming a black magician. But thanks to you, my vague hope became a clear one. I'm really grateful."

"...Well, I also came back to life thanks to you. You don't have to be so grateful. After all, your first step as a black magician was thanks to me, right?"

"Master...? Are you talking about Joseph?"

"Yes, Master Joseph."

As Joseph's name came up, Mary's emotions became confused and then turned to anger.

"Sure, he took me in and helped me... But he can't compare to you."

"Me?"

"Yes, because he kept me as a temporary disciple, saying I lacked talent! If you hadn't come, I would have spent my whole life preparing meals in the kitchen!"

Mary was breathing heavily. Her emotions, like her appearance, were a mix of betrayal and anger.

But it was only for a moment. When she saw Oliver, she quickly calmed down.

"So, the one who truly helped me is you, Oliver."

A heartfelt statement. But Oliver's reaction was still indifferent.

He couldn't understand or empathize.

"Hmm... Still, wasn't it Joseph who took you in?"

"You said it yourself, didn't you? That he wanted to offer us as sacrifices to demons! He only wanted to use us!"

"Is that so? Well, you did receive help... Oh, and when you were almost raped by thugs, it was Master Joseph who helped you, right?"

Mary was shocked. Her eyes widened, and her emotions fluctuated.

"..."

"Ah... Did I say something wrong?"

"...How did you know about that?"

"Master Joseph told me when we met in Randa."

Mary let out a small groan. It was as if a secret she never wanted to be revealed had been exposed.

Her emotions were a mix of unpleasantness, shame, anger, and injustice, and Oliver observed her in silence.

He felt he had made some mistake, but he didn't know what it was.

"If I did something wrong, I'll apologize again."

"...No. There's no need to apologize. You're right... I did tell you about my past."

"Yes... You said you wanted to become a black magician to get stronger."

"Yes... That's right. My parents and I were all very weak."

Mary then began to tell her story.

She talked about living in an illegal shantytown below a dye factory.

About not being able to say anything when dirty wastewater was dumped right next to her house,

When her mother collapsed from illegal labor and she couldn't say anything,

When her father was beaten to death by local thugs and she couldn't say anything.

And how she went to take revenge on the thugs and almost suffered a terrible fate.

At first, she was calm, but as the story progressed, her emotions intensified, and eventually, tears welled up in her eyes.

"...So, I was taken in by Joseph and ended up here."

"...I see."

"Yes, so I once thought of Joseph as my savior, but after some time and hearing your words, I realized it was an illusion."

"...That's unfortunate?"

"No, it's fine. Because I met you."

"..."

"Ultimately, what I want to say is that since you gave me a new chance at life, I want to be close to you and serve you. Just... that's all."

"...I see."

"...Then, can you tell me your story now?"

"Me?"

"I've told you my story. I want to hear yours... Can't you?"

Oliver was silent for a moment.

"...No, I don't have much to say, but if you want, I'll tell you."

"Then, please tell me. I want to hear it."

"Alright, then..."

And so, Oliver began his story.

He started with his time in the orphanage.

He described how many children were there and how strict the director was, without any emotion.

His mechanical narration was more like reciting rules of life than telling a personal story,

But Mary listened intently, and when Oliver talked about being bullied or unfairly punished, she was more upset and angry than he was.

The actual person involved couldn't feel any emotion.

There wasn't much substance, but Oliver told his life story in detail as Mary wanted.

However, it couldn't all be told in one day, so Mary came to the study every day to listen to Oliver's story, like a moth drawn to light.

Time passed, and Oliver's Joseph Family gradually stabilized.

Before long, some of the senior disciples, including Peter, had naturally learned to synthesize emotions and could produce filigret without Oliver.

"Ah, so you could see emotions from the beginning?"

"Yes, I thought everyone could see them, but they couldn't. So, I was happy to see you."

"Ah..."

Some of the senior disciples, including Mary, had now reached a level where they could handle Oliver to some extent.

As evidence, they could easily suppress most gangs and small black magic organizations even without Oliver.

"Ah... So, the filigret you produced back then was Joseph's emotion?"

"Yes, it had a very beautiful light."

"You're still interested in that light?"

"Yes, I haven't fully grasped it yet... I want to see it again."

"...If you wish, just command us. We will risk our lives to find it and present it to you... Yes, just command us. This is Oliver's family."

"Hmm, that's not necessary..."

"No, we are Oliver's disciples. You can command us to do anything. We will carry it out with our lives."

"..."

Time passed, and it was now autumn.

The loyalty to Oliver strengthened the organization's cohesion,

And the small black magic organizations, unable to resist any longer, discarded all their pride and knelt before Oliver