#785 [The End]

#785. Epilogue - The Retired Old Man (4)

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

After finishing lunch, Forrest returned to his designated seat and started typing on his typewriter.  

Ah, of course, he hadn’t merely eaten lunch.  

They had wrapped up an urgent discussion, eaten together, and then shared some stories about the past.  

He needed material for his book.  

How they first met,  

What conversations they had,  

Any memorable anecdotes,  

Evaluations of him over time, and so on.  

For reference, Marie and Joanna first met him in a small town called Wineham.  

That small town housed a cooperative of the Redevelopment Alliance.  

At the time, Marie was a struggling disciple to a warlock, and Joanna was a Paladin sent to capture him.  

Forrest now understood why the two were awkward around each other when alone.  

A warlock’s disciple and a Paladin—yet now they sat side by side here.  

Despite his considerable age, Forrest realized how unpredictable life could be.  

Forrest had asked them when they parted ways with "him" and when they met again.  

However, their conversation wasn’t long.  

He had heard the stories multiple times before, so he skimmed through the details and only asked the essential questions.  

Also, Marie and Joanna weren’t people with enough time to be detained all day.  

Marie was undeniably the leader of the Chosen Ones, and Joanna, as a saint, was effectively the head assisting the Holy Sovereign.  

"I’m a bit busy too..."  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Forrest thought while monotonously typing like a machine.  

Although technically retired and not truly busy, he oddly felt like he was back in his bustling past today, unable to relax completely.  

Back to when he was actively working with "that kid."  

It was a pleasant urgency.  

So Forrest let Marie and Joanna go after briefly asking his questions based on prior interviews,  

And he returned here to furiously type away at his typewriter.  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-  

The typewriter only stopped when he needed to review past materials.  

After checking the documents, Forrest mentally organized and edited the content before typing again.  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

He was so focused that even those intending to casually greet him couldn’t approach, overwhelmed by his presence.  

Thus, Forrest typed away relentlessly through the evening and into the night.  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ting-! Clack!  

He continued without rest, typing and typing.  

As if possessed by something.  

“Hmm?”  

While flexing his stiff fingers after finishing his writing, Forrest felt something unusual and looked around.  

At some point, all the customers had left, and the surroundings were empty.  

“...Is there no one here?”  

Forrest instinctively called for an employee, and thankfully, they were still in the unseen areas and responded immediately to his call.  

“Yes, sir.”  

An employee in uniform approached, maintaining a polite posture.  

Forrest looked at the employee and then checked the clock absentmindedly.  

[01:20]  

1:20 a.m.  

Even the most popular restaurant should have closed by now.  

Yet the lights in the restaurant were still brightly lit.  

Was there something important going on?  

No.  

It was because Forrest, a retired old man, was there.  

“Well, this is embarrassing. Sorry about that.”  

“Please don’t worry about it.”  

As Forrest apologized, the flustered employee’s shoulders relaxed as Al stepped in.  

He dismissed the employee with a composed and graceful motion, then smiled at Forrest.  

“You don’t have to feel bad. I didn’t close the restaurant because I have my own business to attend to.”  

“Oh, what kind of business?”  

“A major deal. I’m acting as a broker. So, you can stay as long as you’d like.”  

“No, it’s fine. I’m just about done… I’ll head home now.”  

“Then, allow me to give you a ride.”  

“Didn’t you say you had an important matter to attend to?”  

“I just canceled it. I’m a fairly successful broker, after all.”  

At Al’s shameless attitude, Forrest chuckled.  

“Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”  

With that, Forrest gathered all the papers he had been working on since morning and got into Al’s antique car.  

“Do you still feel like riding in the passenger seat?”  

“Yeah, that’s right. Now shut up and drive. I’m tired.”  

“Yes, sir!”  

With an enthusiastic response, Al started the car.  

The well-maintained interior, like the car’s polished exterior, hummed with a smooth engine sound as it vibrated softly.  

Vrooooom-!  

Al skillfully drove, retracing the route they had taken that morning from the restaurant, and soon they arrived at Forrest’s house.  

“Sir.”  

“Huh? Are we here already?”  

Forrest rubbed his eyes as he woke up, apparently having dozed off due to Al’s comfortable driving.  

“Yes.”  

“Guess I nodded off.”  

“You must have been very tired.”  

“It would be a lie to say otherwise. Getting old makes even typing on a typewriter a chore… Since I was already asleep, you could’ve let me rest a bit longer.”  

“My apologies.”  

Al immediately apologized at Forrest’s reprimand, just as he had that morning when the traffic delayed them—though it wasn’t his fault.  

Forrest stared at Al for a moment and then playfully punched his shoulder.  

Thud.  

A soft, weighted sound. Al looked startled.  

Forrest rarely raised a hand to anyone, aside from disciplining restaurant employees during training, and even then, he used a rod, not his fist.  

Forrest throwing even a light punch was unexpected.  

To the surprised Al, Forrest said,  

“There’s no need to apologize for every little thing.”  

“Pardon?”  

“I said, there’s no need to apologize all the time—it’s not your fault.”  

“...”  

“Stand tall. You’re now the broker of Block 30 on T-District.”  

Al’s expression gradually brightened as he grasped the meaning behind Forrest’s words. With a look of resolve, he closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them.  

“Hah… I understand. That apology was just me, as a broker, catering to the whims of a wealthy old man. It was never sincere, so don’t misunderstand me.”  

“Hah! So, you were messing with me.”  

“Yes, you’ve been played—by me.”  

Forrest let out a hearty laugh befitting a man of his stature, gathered his belongings, opened the car door, and stepped out.  

“Sir!”  

“Yeah?”  

“Today… are you alright?”  

Forrest smiled.  

“...Of course. Just don’t show up late tomorrow. You cut it close today.”  

“Oh… Don’t worry. I don’t need to buy groceries tomorrow, so I’ll definitely—”  

-Thud!  

Forrest shut the car door mid-sentence, and Al, far from being upset, waved through the window as he drove off to his home.  

After confirming Al had left, Forrest opened the door to his house and walked in.  

“Well… I didn’t expect you to come so suddenly.”  

He greeted a man with red skin who was waiting inside without permission.  

“Apologies. This is all I learned from watching my master.”  

The red-skinned man, who had let himself in, responded.  

“Are you busy? Should I come back tomorrow instead?”  

“Well… since you’re already here, it’s fine. Archiver.”  

“Would you like coffee? Or maybe some alcohol?”  

Forrest, having removed his coat, pulled out both coffee and alcohol from a cupboard and asked.  

“You’re quite kind, even to an uninvited guest.”  

“I may not look it, but I used to be a broker. I’ve dealt with plenty of rude people. Compared to them, it’s easy to be polite to someone like Archiver.”  

“Call me Kevin, not Archiver. Honestly, I’m not that proud of the title.”  

“Considering that, you’ve still been playing the role of Archiver pretty diligently, haven’t you?”  

It was a joke, but it wasn’t an empty one.  

Not only was Kevin the first Red Wizard, but he also became Archiver, showing an unexpectedly active involvement.  

Compared to his predecessor, who mostly lived in seclusion, his involvement was vast.  

He had helped the Kingdom of the Holy Sovereign and the United Kingdom Royal Family during times of crisis, and he had also secretly made a pact with the Puppet faction to revive the struggling traditional schools, working tirelessly beyond national borders.  

Such was his significance that by now, regardless of skin color, everyone acknowledged the authority of the new Archiver.  

This was also why the Red community in Landa was able to form.  

“It’s nothing, really. But you’re acting strange today. You definitely called me Kevin before, yet now you’re calling me Archiver again.”  

“Maybe it’s because I’ve grown old and I feel like being a little mischievous. So, coffee? Or alcohol?”  

“Let’s go with coffee.”  

Forrest quickly brewed coffee with a magic kettle from the Agni school and handed it to Kevin.  

Kevin drank the coffee once, then immediately got to the point.  

“Hah... I see now. So, do you mind telling me why you called me here?”  

“Quick to get to the point. I thought you’d be giving me a hint about the traditional school affairs like old times.”  

“I’m not very kind to grumpy old men. It’s because I had that kind of person as a master. What, are you complaining?”  

“No, it’s my job to endure. Wait a moment.”  

Forrest stood up, his stiff body moving like a wooden plank, set down his luggage, and went upstairs for a while.  

Thud.  

Thud.  

Thud.  

Kevin waited in silence for a while.  

“Here.”  

Forrest returned, placing a thick stack of papers on the table with a heavy thud.  

The table shook slightly from the weight, and Forrest pulled another stack of papers from his bag and placed it on top of the first one.  

“Could this be...?”  

Kevin, looking as though he recognized something, saw Forrest nod.  

“That’s right. It’s a book about that person. I finished it today.”  

Kevin, rarely showing surprise, looked at him in awe.  

“I never thought this book would be finished in my lifetime... but it’s too thick to be just one book.”  

“The book was finished long ago. It just took some time to fill in the gaps and correct it. As for the thickness... please understand. After all, isn’t it a miracle to summarize a single life like this?”  

Kevin had no counterargument and nodded in agreement.  

“You’ve finished your overdue work. Congratulations.”  

“Thank you. I didn’t expect it to take this long.”  

“But why are you showing this to me? I’m not a publisher.”  

Kevin’s eyes seemed to gleam, as if he had caught on to something.  

“You’re probably already thinking what I’m thinking, and yes, that’s right.”  

“Are you asking me to be a publisher?”  

“Yes.”  

Forrest, as shameless as an uninvited guest, made his request.  

He asked Kevin to publish the book he had written.  

Kevin squinted his eyes and looked at Forrest, but he didn’t show any annoyance. Instead, he raised a question.  

“Why? After all these years of struggling with it, why ask me to put the final period on it?”  

“Well, even though I’m retired, I’m still a broker, right? The virtue of a broker is to assist from behind the scenes, without being too visible. It’s according to my professional ethics.”  

“Forrest...”  

“And, as a broker, I believe it’s better for the book to be published by Archiver rather than me. For this book to truly fulfill its role, it needs to be in the hands of someone with more authority than a mere back-alley broker.”  

“...People will know you wrote it by the content of the book.”  

“What’s important is the title. Kevin, don’t you know what role this book will play?”  

Being a broker, Forrest was certain that Kevin, as Archiver, would understand the significance.  

As expected, Kevin understood exactly what Forrest meant.  

“...That book will become a scripture. At least, it will be treated as such. After all, it’s a book about that person. In that case, wouldn’t it be better for the book to come from someone more authoritative than a back-alley broker? There are always people eager to find fault.”  

“There are also those who love to praise. I thought you, Forrest, were more inclined to the latter than the former.”  

“Oh, of course. I’m a rational and cynical Landaian. I prefer criticism over praise. But when it comes to friends, it’s a different matter.”  

“Friend?”  

“Yes, at first, we were just a broker and solver, but eventually, we became friends... If I were to write a book about a friend, I wouldn’t want to leave any room for criticism. Especially if it’s someone I respect.”  

Kevin, looking at Forrest with the eyes of a warlock, confirmed the sincerity behind his words.  

“Furthermore.”  

“...?”  

“Strictly speaking, I’m not asking you to publish the book, I’m telling you to do your job. I’m telling Archiver to do his job...”  

“My job?”  

“Didn’t you say yourself that the purpose of Archiver’s existence is to assist that person?”  

“It’s annoying, but I can’t deny that.”  

“You shouldn’t be getting annoyed already...”  

“Pardon?”  

“There’s one more thing I need from you...”  

Forrest took his quarterstaff wrapped in cloth and placed it on the table with a thud.  

Forrest spoke to Kevin about the things he had discussed with Marie and Joanna.  

As expected of Archiver, Kevin quickly grasped the key points and silently nodded, taking the quarterstaff and the papers Forrest had written.  

After that, nothing special happened.  

Kevin finished his coffee and, like a breeze, disappeared.  

It wasn’t disappointing.  

After all, the only reason Forrest and Kevin had met was for a book interview.  

Once Kevin left, Forrest went about his own business.  

His work was simple—take off his clothes, wash up, read some books, and go to bed.  

Though tired, Forrest was tempted to skip the washing and just lie down in bed, but having dreamed of a dignified and leisurely life since his poor youth, he couldn’t do that.  

“Quite... satisfying.”  

He mumbled, lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling.  

His life now was the life he had dreamed of in his youth.  

Although he couldn’t sleep for hours, he could prepare breakfast leisurely, read the newspaper, not worry about rent, and spend time in a restaurant without glancing at the clock. It was a satisfying life.  

Of course, there were regrets and things he wished were different, but life itself was full of dissatisfaction.  

Forrest wanted to be content with the life he was living.  

“It was fun, too.”  

He thought about the time spent with that person while finishing the book.  

It had been busy and chaotic at times, but overall, it was fun.  

Perhaps because of that, he felt a bit of dread about tomorrow morning.  

He had completed the book he had struggled with for so long and handed it over, and now there was nothing left to do.  

He had plenty of money, so there was nothing to worry about, and with free time ahead, he should have been happy—but Forrest felt a little afraid of facing the empty schedule.  

It was like walking down an unfamiliar road for the first time...  

“I’m getting old, too.”  

Forrest turned off the lights and tossed and turned, trying to sleep.  

Whether he liked it or not, tomorrow would come.  

No matter how much he feared it or how unfamiliar it seemed, nothing would change.  

He simply had to accept it, get used to it, and endure it.  

Just like when he was an employee,  

Just like when he was a broker.  

Now, with money, even if it came, it was probably nothing to be afraid of.  

So Forrest lay down, calming his restless mind, and eventually drifted to sleep, falling into a deep slumber.  

Ssshh, ssshh, ssshh...  

Ssshh, ssshh...  

Ssshh...  

Sss...  

...  

A long time passed.  

“Hm?”  

Forrest slowly woke up in the deep silence.  

It seemed absurd to say he woke up because it was too quiet, but that was the truth.  

After all, by now, his alarm clock should have gone off.  

Wondering if he had woken up too early, he reached for the clock to check.  

“Are you awake?”  

He heard a familiar voice after a long time.  

At the sound of that voice, Forrest froze as though struck by lightning.  

He slowly sat up and turned his head.  

And he saw him.  

Sitting calmly on the sofa in a space he couldn’t recognize, it was Oliver.  

The youthful face from before was gone, replaced by the face of a young man. Oliver greeted him.  

“Long time no see, Forrest.”  

Oliver, who shouldn’t be in the human world, was sitting beside him, greeting him.  

Forrest took a deep breath and responded.  

“Long time no see.”

“You’ve aged a lot since we last met.”

“You’ve lost your manners... So, am I dead?”

“Yes.”

Oliver nodded calmly, as if accepting the obvious.

Forrest wasn’t particularly surprised by the news, and he simply accepted the fact that he was dead.

“I didn’t expect to go to heaven, but... dying without pain, I guess that’s a bit of a comfort?”

“Do you feel like you’re in hell?”

“I do have a conscience, you know.”

“Hahaha...”

Oliver laughed at Forrest’s joke.

It was such a natural smile.

“You’ve had quite a bit going on, haven’t you? Judging by that smile.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Oliver handed Forrest a glass of alcohol that he seemed to have pulled out from nowhere.

Looking closely, it was from the brand Forrest used to enjoy.

“...It’s good. Really.”

“I’m doing the work of talking to people.”

“What?”

“My job. I talk to dead people. I listen to their lives, their regrets, and respond to them.”

“All dead people?”

Oliver nodded as he took a glass of milk out of thin air and drank it.

To think that he spoke to every single person who died each day...

It seemed impossible, but somehow, it felt plausible.

Especially with him.

“Hah... That must be hard.”

“It’s rewarding, too. Thanks to it, I got to speak with you, Forrest.”

“...Are you planning to meet other people?”

“Someday, yes... But your reaction is a bit strange. Is there nothing you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, it’s just so sudden... Is it wrong if I don’t have anything to say?”

“No, that’s also a choice. No problem.”

Oliver’s expression was one of complete understanding.

With a deepened expression, Forrest remembered his task.

“I have something to report. As a broker.”

“What is it?”

“I finished the book. A book about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask what the title is?”

“Genius Warlock.”

“Genius Warlock?”

“Yeah, I think it best represents you... Is there a problem with that?”

“Hmm... No, it’s just that if the book fails, it’ll probably be because of the title.”

“It could also be because the protagonist is boring.”

“I’m fun. Everyone laughs and holds their stomachs from my jokes.”

“Now I’m sure. This is hell.”

Forrest dismissed Oliver’s humor, and Oliver just smiled.

Oliver stared at him silently.

Unable to endure the silence, Forrest asked,

“What happens if we finish talking? Do you leave?”

“Rather than leaving, I give them choices. Whether to go to heaven and rest, to go to hell and repent, or to be reborn as a human again.”

“? I’d guess most would choose the first option.”

“Not necessarily. After talking, some people choose the second or third options as well.”

It was an unbelievable story, but somehow, Forrest believed it.

Because it was Oliver.

“...If it’s uncomfortable to talk about, you don’t have to.”

Oliver said,

“I’ll wait until you’re ready to speak.”

Oliver continued,

“So, Forrest, you, and everyone watching me can speak when you want to share your story.”

Oliver smiled.

“I’ll stay right here, by your side, for as long as you need.”

TRANSLATOR MESSAGE

Thank you for your unwavering support. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to fully translate this novel. It has been a long journey, but I truly enjoyed every moment of it. As all good things must come to an end, this novel is now complete.

Once again, I sincerely appreciate your love and support. I kindly ask all patrons to unsubscribe to avoid being charged for the next month.

If you're interested, feel free to check out my other translated novel, Genius Wizard Takes Medicine, also known by its manhwa title, Drug-Eating Genius Mage.

patreon.com/govin