Chapter 6

6. Class (1)

The next morning was different from usual.

Without the supervisor banging on the frying pan to wake everyone up, everyone got out of bed on their own. It wasn't just because there was no work to do.

"Wow... I've never seen anything like this. To have classes scheduled like this..."

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Maybe something good happened? I heard that the Master picked up a huge haul on the way back. Hey, do you know anything about it?"

The children, who were excitedly chatting among themselves, noticed Oliver getting up from the worst corner and asked him.

He was a new addition the Master had picked up, and for some reason, he didn't respond at all, just showing his usual blank expression.

One of the children said,

"Leave him alone. He's just a bother to look at. Tom has already marked him, so don't get involved."

"Yeah, that's a good idea... I'm really envious. He came in with me, and now he's already a formal disciple."

"Is that true? A formal disciple, not just a rumor?"

"Almost true. In the group of Andrew's people, it's almost openly talked about. Besides, he already knows a few black magic spells, right?"

"Right, he's definitely going to become a formal disciple. They say he's going to be a real black magician."

"So, take care of yourself. His personality is terrible, and once he marks you, it's a real headache. And if he becomes a formal disciple... ugh."

"It's not us who should worry, but Marie. She's been a temporary disciple for six years. From next month, she'll probably be in for a rough time. She got marked for trying to help that idiot. What was she thinking... Oh, fuck."

They said this as Oliver approached silently. Everyone was startled, probably because of Oliver's lifeless face.

"Can I ask you something?"

Oliver asked in a polite tone. There was no particular reason; he had always been forced to use polite language by the orphanage director and the supervisor. It was a habit, but for some reason, Oliver's politeness felt more unpleasant than respectful.

"What, what...?"

"Supervisor Tom. What kind of black magic does he use?"

"Huh? What do you need to know that for?"

"Like, what? What can you do with that information? Get lost, know your place."

"Just curious. Please, I'm begging you."

Oliver bowed and pleaded. The children, who had been chatting, seemed to feel a sense of superiority.

"Well, if you insist, I'll tell you just this once, so listen carefully. It's not really relevant to you, but to become a black magician, you need two things: 'Kaiyan' (開眼) and 'Handle.' Kaiyan is the ability to see emotions, and Handle is the ability to control them."

He raised his hand and gathered a black light, forming a crude circle.

"Ha... This is it. It took me months to do this. How about you guys?"

Two other children who had been chatting did the same, forming a misshapen circle at the tips of their fingers.

"Oh, your skills have improved?"

"Yeah? I practiced whenever I could!"

"Wow, impressive! This is Kaiyan and Handle. You need to do this to start black magic."

Oliver understood the words, but the level was so low that he couldn't respond. Wasn't this something you could just do? Practice and time?

But fortunately, Oliver had at least some sense and didn't say anything out loud.

"Hehe, you're scared... There are so many who can't even do this... After Kaiyan and Handle, you can do 'Processing.'"

"What is processing?"

"You know nothing. Processing is using emotions to cast black magic. It can be a weapon more powerful than a gun, an invincible shield, or a terrifying monster."

"Besides, you can make a lot of money by creating drugs, cosmetics, perfumes, and writing materials."

When the topic turned to money, the children stopped their conversations and exclaimed in excitement, chatting animatedly among themselves.

Oliver, who wasn't interested, was about to ask again what he needed to do to become a formal disciple, but then someone burst in and shouted.

"You idiots! If you're up, hurry up and clean and eat! The Master has specially taken you off work and is going to teach you, so what are you all doing! Do you want to get kicked out?!"

At the supervisor's command, the workers, who had been chatting, all panicked and started moving. Oliver, who hadn't gotten the answer he wanted, reluctantly started moving under the supervisor's gaze.

The supervisor grabbed Oliver and said,

"Hey, you... You seem to be all excited about the classes, but don't get your hopes up. No one who has been here for less than a month, let alone a year, has ever become a formal disciple. So, don't waste your time."

Oliver looked at his supervisor. More accurately, he looked at the emotions, which glowed with inexplicable anger and suspicion. A familiar glow. Oliver bowed and replied,

"Yes, I understand."

***

As usual, Oliver started cleaning the factory with the other workers. Everyone seemed happy to have classes and worked hard, so they finished earlier than usual.

After cleaning, they had their usual meal. Perhaps because of the classes, today they also had a plump sausage in addition to the bread and soup.

Everyone greedily ate the sausage, and Oliver ate it too. It was salty and greasy.

About 20 minutes later, when they finished eating and cleaning up, a man appeared. Unlike the children who worked in the factory, he was well-fed and well-cared for, and everyone bowed their heads when they saw him.

"Oh, Mr. Andrew...! Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you."

Led by Supervisor Tom, everyone bowed. Oliver also bowed, and Andrew raised his hand and said,

"That's enough. Don't be so stiff. Have you all finished eating?"

"Y-Yes!"

Everyone answered loudly. Andrew nodded and said,

"Then, follow me. The Master will personally teach you."

The children's faces showed a faint smile. Considering that they only had classes about five times a year, it was an understandable reaction.

The children naturally lined up, and Oliver, judging by the situation, stood at the back.

"Then, follow me."

Andrew entered the factory warehouse. Inside, there were boxes of packaged sausages and items covered with unknown tarps, and among them was a small door.

It was more like a secret passage than a door, and it was hard to notice unless you looked closely. When Andrew gathered black light in his hand and touched the door, complex patterns spread, and the door slowly opened with a creak.

Andrew entered, and the children followed. Inside the door, surprisingly, was a well-furnished basement, with lights spaced out to make it comfortable.

The children chattered excitedly among themselves, imagining a future where they would live here as black magicians.

"Hey, are you really having a class?"

A man they met on the way asked Andrew. From the atmosphere, he seemed to be of the same rank as Andrew.

"Yeah."

"Surprising. After returning from a trip, you usually rest for a few weeks and just read books."

At that moment, Andrew looked at Oliver, who was standing at the back.

"Sometimes he does. Don't worry about it."

"Got it."

After a brief conversation, Andrew moved again. They passed through several rooms and corridors and finally entered a room that looked like a classroom.

Unlike other places, it was not well-furnished, with half the walls made of dirt and the ceiling unfinished, showing the structure.

But it wasn't completely unprepared. There were desks and chairs, though not enough for the number of people, and on the shelves on the wall were test tubes containing extracted emotions and black magic books.

Oliver felt his heart, which had been quiet for the past week, start beating again. Even though he couldn't receive proper education, it didn't seem like he was being treated carelessly.

"Come in."

Joseph, who had appeared out of nowhere, stood at the podium and spoke. Everyone bowed and greeted him.

"Master! How are you?"

"Master! How are you?"

Joseph lightly raised his hand to acknowledge the greetings and ordered everyone to sit down. There were only a dozen desks, which were far too few for the over thirty temporary disciples, but there was no problem.

The three supervisors sat first, and then the workers fought over the remaining seats.

Those who were too slow or weak and lost their seats had to stand uncomfortably at the back and listen to the class, which was a common way of teaching black magicians. The faster and stronger you were, the more you could enjoy.

Just as the class was about to start, Joseph asked Andrew,

"Aren't you going?"

"If it's okay, can I also attend the class? The Master's teachings are always beneficial."

"...... Do as you please."

Andrew bowed as permission was granted. Joseph immediately started the class.

"Now, since I've specially arranged this class, I hope you all pay close attention. First, let's go over the basics. What is black magic?"

Marie raised her hand first.

"Basically, it's a science of miracles using emotions, but in practice, it's a study of the soul, the essence of humans. Emotions are just a part of the energy from the soul."

"Right, black magic is fundamentally a study of the soul. Therefore, it can extract and use other invisible human characteristics such as life force and charm, as the soul is the foundation of everything. In other words, black magic is the exploration of the truth and essence of humans."

"Oh..."

Everyone nodded in understanding or took notes in their notebooks. Oliver wondered if he was the only one who didn't understand.

"Now, who can tell me what the basics of black magic are?"

Again, Marie raised her hand.

"First, 'Kaiyan' to see the basic ingredient, emotions, and 'Handle' to control them."

"Right, no matter how much knowledge you have, if you can't see and control emotions, it's all useless. What's next?"

"Then, you need to extract emotions and 'Process' them. That's when you can be called a black magician."

"Right. That's the most basic of basics and the true first step. But it's also very difficult. Why?"

"Emotions are the energy of the soul. The moment you extract and process them, they affect the magician. Sadness, anger, murderous intent, hatred... If the magician is careless or lacks ability, they can be affected and suffer."

"Right! Black magic is the most powerful in terms of destructive power and efficiency, but it's not free. If the magician's character is weak or their skills are lacking, the emotions can turn against them. Therefore, theoretically, black magic is the strongest, but only a few have reached that level."

The atmosphere suddenly became solemn. They seemed to be worried and scared by the difficulty of black magic.

Clap!

Joseph clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"That's why we have these classes. To help at least one of you build skills. We'll stop here with the theory. Now, everyone, try to extract emotions."

Joseph handed the experimental flasks to the temporary disciples. Inside were clumps of emotions that were moving slightly.

The first to receive it was Tom. He smiled confidently and placed his hand over the flask's opening.

After a moment, a black thread slowly rose. Everyone exclaimed in amazement.

Next, it was Marie's turn. She extracted the emotions with more difficulty than Tom, frowning. Seeing this, Tom smirked.

Next was the supervisor who managed Oliver. He also extracted the emotions with as much difficulty as Marie.

"Indeed, the position of supervisor is not for just anyone."

Someone muttered.

After all the supervisors extracted the emotions, it was the workers and temporary disciples' turn. They all had determined expressions, but few managed to extract the emotions properly.

Only a handful managed to extract and hold the emotions in their hands, while the rest either broke the thread halfway or couldn't extract anything at all. It was clear why they weren't made formal disciples.

"Now, you."

Finally, it was Oliver's turn. He just stared at the flask, and the other temporary disciples ignored him, thinking it was a waste of time. That was until Oliver spoke.

"Master..."

Everyone reflexively looked at Oliver.

"What is it?"

"How much emotion should I extract?"

Everyone except Joseph frowned.

"...... Extract as much as you can. It's part of the training. The more emotions you can extract and control, the better."

As soon as he finished speaking, Oliver placed his hand over the flask's opening and started to extract the emotions as he had been practicing.

The clump of emotions, which filled about a third of the flask, writhed and then shot out of the flask like a vomit, surprisingly stabilizing in Oliver's hand.

"What do I do next?"

Oliver's casual question was met with silence.