Chapter 5

5. Temporary Disciple (2)

The male supervisor said, "What's it to you?"

The female supervisor replied, "I'm concerned because I'm a supervisor like you. You can't just act however you want."

"Ha! A supervisor? A supervisor!!"

"Yes, a supervisor like you."

The woman spoke firmly, but the atmosphere was far from it. Dozens of people looked worried, as if the female supervisor had done something wrong. Oliver, who didn't know the situation, couldn't understand what was going on.

"Looks like you haven't grasped the situation yet. Did you not hear that I'm about to become a formal disciple?"

"It's just a rumor."

"Just a rumor? I heard it directly from the Master. Besides, you don't need rumors; my skills speak for themselves."

With that, the male supervisor gathered a black light in his hands. Compared to Joseph, it was pitifully small and unstable, but the others stepped back in fear, with only the female supervisor standing her ground.

"Only the Master can decide who becomes a formal disciple. What do you think the Master will do if He finds out you're acting out of line?"

The atmosphere, which had been heated, cooled down when Joseph appeared. The male supervisor, who looked like a bulldog, frowned but didn't hide his hostility towards the female supervisor.

"Right... The Master will decide. At the end of this month. If I become a formal disciple, I wonder how you'll act then... Hey, what are you doing? Start cleaning up."

The male supervisor ordered his subordinates to start cleaning up. They began moving busily, like dogs with their tails on fire.

Oliver, as usual, hid his presence and slipped away from the chaos. Normally, he would have waited until everything calmed down, but today he didn't.

Instead, he waited in a corner of the corridor for the female supervisor who had helped him to pass by.

She was walking this way, talking to her subordinates.

"Why did you do that, Mari...? Clearly, he had something pent up inside."

"You're right. It's not our business, so don't worry about it..."

"I heard a rumor that Tom will become a formal disciple this time. It's almost certain. He's a real troublemaker."

"Enough. Everyone, be quiet. Nothing is certain. It's all just rumors. I've been here for years; how many times have I heard such stories? So, let it go. Just rest... Huh?"

The female supervisor, Mari, stopped walking. The reason was that she saw Oliver waiting for her.

Mari sighed deeply, as if she had seen something annoying. Then she spoke coldly to Oliver.

"I just helped you because I didn't like Tom's behavior. No need to thank me. I didn't help you because I liked you. Don't get any funny ideas and go away. I'm busy."

Oliver stood there with his usual blank expression. Mari frowned and asked again.

"What? Do you have something else to say?"

Oliver nodded.

"Yes, what is a formal disciple?"

***

"What happened?"

In the study set up in the basement of the sausage factory, Joseph, who was reading a book, spoke. Across from him stood a well-built, handsome young man in his mid-twenties with blonde hair.

The man's name was Andrew. He was Joseph's senior disciple and the second-in-command of the Joseph Family.

"There was a minor disturbance at the factory. You remember the guy you brought in a while ago? He got beaten up by Tom."

"Hehe... If he got on that nasty guy's bad side, he must have been in rough shape. Is he okay?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"The kid who got beaten up. The one I brought in a while ago."

"Oh... No, it's not that bad. Mari helped him before things got too serious."

"Mari? That's surprising. She's not one to get involved in things that aren't her business."

"She can't stand injustice, surprisingly. Besides, she probably didn't like seeing Tom act so arrogantly. As you know, Tom became a formal disciple in just two years, while she's been a temporary disciple for six... She must be frustrated."

"Ah... I see. I remember now. The perennial temporary disciple, Mari. Hmm, I thought black magic required not just talent but also passion, but maybe not. Let's see how it goes. If it doesn't work out, demote him to a servant."

The senior disciple Andrew didn't say anything. It was a rule here to turn children with no potential into servants or kitchen help.

"Go on. If anything else happens, report it."

Andrew didn't leave. He stood still, and Joseph asked, "What is it? Why aren't you leaving?"

"Master... May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you keep telling me to watch over the kid you brought in? You said he didn't have much talent, so you made him a temporary disciple."

Joseph closed his book and said, "Why are you so interested in this?"

"You've never done this before. You usually just bring in temporary disciples and teach them a few times before losing interest... I'm curious about why you're doing this. I'm your senior disciple... Yes."

'As a senior disciple, I have the right to ask.' That's what Andrew wanted to say, but he faltered under Joseph's gaze.

Seeing through Andrew's thoughts, Joseph put on a benevolent teacher's act and said, "Reason? There's no big reason. He's just an interesting kid."

"Interesting?"

"Yes, unlike other kids, he wants to learn black magic purely out of interest, not for power or money. He's quite interesting."

"So, you think he has some talent?"

"Talent... Hmm, he has quite a bit."

Andrew's expression visibly stiffened.

"Haha. Are you scared?"

"No, no! Not at all!"

"Don't be too scared. He's just a beginner... No, not even a beginner. You've been my senior disciple for years. Don't worry unnecessarily, and focus on your training."

"Ah... Yes."

Reassured by his master, Andrew finally relaxed. Embarrassed, he hurried to leave the study, but Joseph called him back.

"Wait, you said Tom is going to become a formal disciple?"

"Yes, as you said last time, it will be officially announced at the end of this month... Why do you ask?"

"Hmm..."

Joseph didn't answer. Instead, he seemed to be lost in thought, as if a fun idea had come to mind.

"Since I'm back, it wouldn't be bad to show some mercy. Andrew, announce to the temporary disciples that I will hold a class in two days."

"A class?"

Andrew was surprised. Even temporary disciples could receive Joseph's teachings, but it was rare—only once every two or three months. Sometimes, if Joseph's condition wasn't good, it could be six months. A class so soon after his return was unusual.

Andrew, trying to hide his shock, asked, "Are you sure it's okay?"

"Of course. Since a formal disciple will be promoted at the end of this month, it wouldn't be bad to check their skills one last time."

Joseph smiled sinisterly, as if he had some ulterior motive.

***

"..., So, we're just called disciples, but we're not real disciples. To become a real disciple, even a low-level one, you have to become a formal disciple. Understand?"

Oliver nodded. At first, it was hard to understand, but with Mari's detailed explanation, he got a rough idea of what a temporary disciple and a formal disciple were.

In simple terms, a temporary disciple was just called a disciple, but in reality, wasn't one.

They were more like apprentice candidates and workers.

They didn't receive proper training and had to do all the menial tasks. This was quite a shock to Oliver.

Working wasn't the problem. The real issue was that he couldn't learn black magic properly. That was the only thing he had been looking forward to... It was a big deal.

Seeing Oliver's reaction, Mari said, "Don't be too disappointed. Life is inherently unfair."

Did this comfort him? Oliver soon regained his energy. His corpse-like appearance made it hard to tell if he was really disappointed.

"Then... How do you become a formal disciple? Tom said he will become one soon."

At this, Mari frowned. Her awkward purple hair made her look even angrier, and she said with a slightly irritable tone, "There is a way. You have to build your skills in the classes held every few months and be recognized as having the qualifications to become at least a low-level disciple... But don't get your hopes up. It's not easy for a temporary disciple to become a formal one, and there are limited spots. It will take years. It's not something you, who have only been here for a week, should worry about."

"How do you get recognized as a low-level disciple?"

Mari frowned. "Didn't you hear me? Don't think about it... Sigh, you need to be able to use basic black magic skills smoothly. Like the 'Shadow Bullet' and 'Black Shield.' Do you know what they are?"

"..."

"They are energy derived from emotions, shot like a gun and used as a shield. Both are more powerful than a gun. I saw them by chance when the Master was collecting them, and they instantly wiped out the thugs who ruled my neighborhood."

Mari's expression was complex. Oliver could see her admiration, greed, and frustration as she remembered that moment.

She too coveted black magic but couldn't get it, which frustrated her. It seemed more serious than she let on, and after a long pause, she suddenly stood up.

"But why am I explaining all this to you? You're not even part of my group, and you haven't brought me anything... What's your name?"

"Oliver."

"I don't know why you're asking me these questions, but this is the last time. I'm not so idle that I can answer all your questions. As a piece of advice, if you want help in the future, bring something. There's no such thing as a free lunch. Got it?"

Oliver nodded. His expression was always the same, so it was hard to tell if he understood, but Mari stood up, saying she had no more business with him.

Why did she answer his questions... Maybe she was captivated by his blank expression.

Just as she was about to go back to study, one of her subordinates ran up urgently.

"Mari! Mari! Good news! Good news!"

The subordinate was so excited that he ignored Oliver and blurted out his news.

"What is it? Calm down and tell me."

"Don't be surprised! The Master is going to give us a class tomorrow! Can you believe it? A class! Usually, after a trip, it takes at least four months for us to have a class!"

"Right... What's gotten into him?"

Mari seemed genuinely surprised. It had never happened in six years, but then, Oliver, who was clueless, butted in.

"Is there really a class tomorrow?"

"...Yes."

"That's really fortunate."

"Right... You're lucky. Really."