#763

Oliver (4)

“Kyaahahahaha! Why on earth am I doing this?!”

The Child-Third, inside the Corpse doll Shamus, screamed toward the sky with a feral cry.

That scream could be likened to the wail of a laborer who had worked three days and nights on reconstruction efforts for minimum wage.

“Arghhh!! Labor laws!! We need red labor laws─!!!”

A cry filled with eerie energy. Yet, complaints were complaints, and work was work.

Third clenched his fist and slammed it into the ground, as Oliver had ‘requested.’

Boom─!

When the iron fist hit the ground, it shook, and a massive wooden pillar, harder than steel, was erected.

“Ooooh-! You’ve already raised the pillar…!”

The laborers affiliated with the redevelopment union nearby marveled in unison.

However, instead of being pleased by their admiration, Third shook his head.

He knew their praise was not pure admiration but a sinister ploy to exploit laborers.

“Get lost.”

“Now, if you could please set up the pillar over there.”

“I said, get lost.”

“Yes, we love you too.”

The conversation was so out of sync it made one doubt if they were even speaking the same language.

The laborers, coaxing and appeasing the exhausted Third, managed to drag him to the next work site.

It was a strange sight if one thought about it.

For ordinary people to act that way toward a druid-Corpse doll that could crush them like ants—it was baffling.

Even if they’d worked together for several days, there was still something peculiar about it.

But the details, namely the fact that Oliver had assigned Third, made it understandable.

The man who saved humanity from the apocalypse and gave them a second chance…

That’s why they believed Third would be safe without a doubt.

“Kyaahahahahaha!!”

Faithfully repaying that trust, Third continued to perform his tasks diligently, despite his cries.

It wasn’t just Third.

The Child-First and Fourth, who occupied the Corpse dolls Bathory and Durans, were also hard at work.

Using their specialties—blood magic, disease-based black magic, and life alchemy—they were assigned to the medical team, directly treating the injured and preventing diseases.

Their skills were exceptional, and since they required no rest, their performance was unmatched.

(The Children claimed they needed rest, but the committee concluded they were lying out of embarrassment.)

Thanks to them, the reconstruction of the capital progressed at an astonishing speed.

“Gururururu…”

That said, the one making the most significant contributions was someone else altogether.

“Gurururuk…!!”

It was none other than Big Mouth.

Oliver’s glutton bag.

Big Mouth was tasked with the monumental duty of producing enough food to feed 5,000 people a day.

And perhaps due to the overwhelming burden, Big Mouth was now on strike in a corner of the command center.

“I’m tired.”

Big Mouth spoke clearly, sounding genuinely exhausted.

The employees from Angels House standing nearby tried to console him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“You’re doing great. Really great.”

“I told you, I’m not okay!”

“We love you too.”

“Wow, amazing! Fantastic! As expected, the Pouch of Abundance! Dave’s Treasure!!”

One of the Angels House employees praised Big Mouth, calling him the Pouch of Abundance.

This was a nickname Big Mouth had recently earned in Landa, during the apocalypse when he supplied food for the citizens sheltering underground.

‘Citizens, do not worry. Our friend, the woodsman Dave, has entrusted us with an item that produces infinite food. You will never run out of food, water, or daily necessities.’

‘That’s absurd. How is that possible?’

‘Is wiping out an entire army on your own possible? Keep your mouth shut.’

There were some disputes, but Big Mouth proved his worth through results, earning him the nickname "Endless Pouch of Abundance, Dave’s Treasure."

Big Mouth took pride in this nickname but was now dragged to the capital to resume his food-production duties.

‘Big Mouth, I have a new job for you.’

‘Guruk?’

‘Go to the capital and continuously produce food without a break.’

‘Guruk?’

Recalling his meeting with Oliver, Big Mouth swayed his body side to side.

“Guruk. Gurururu… Gurururuk…”

“‘Alright, fine! I’ll do it…!’ is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying I really can’t do it anymore.”

Big Mouth repeated himself clearly, dissatisfied with the overly optimistic interpretation.

He then sharply turned his head toward Marie, who was busy with paperwork.

He seemed to be seeking her help.

Marie pondered how to refuse Big Mouth’s plea, but luckily, she didn’t need to.

Jane, her pink hair tied up and dressed in work clothes, walked in.

“Looks like the food is running out. Is there a problem?”

All eyes turned toward Jane, who had been working at the relief kitchen with the Sisterhood to distribute food.

Especially the employees of Angels House.

It was natural since the reason they were volunteering in the capital was none other than Jane, the new leader of the Sisterhood.

Big Mouth and Jane’s eyes met.

Jane smiled as if she understood the situation.

“Big Mouth, you seem really exhausted, don’t you?”

“Gururu—ah, forget it, I’m done working.”

Realizing that any conversation involving “gururu” would be conveniently misinterpreted, Big Mouth spoke clearly.

He declared he would no longer allow himself to be exploited.

Of course, he had said the same to Oliver, but changed his mind as soon as Oliver picked up his baton.

“But Oliver isn’t here right now.”

“Gururuk!”

Big Mouth let out a croak-like sound and bobbed his body up and down.

Jane turned around and took something out. Was it a motivational stick? Or perhaps a machine gun to (permanently) eliminate complaints?

Unbothered, Big Mouth stood up and started stepping in place.

Big Mouth, who had even practiced cannibalism for functional enhancement, spared no one with his punches—man, woman, child, or elder. All were treated equally.

However, contrary to expectations, Big Mouth didn’t unleash his fists of equality.

What Jane took out wasn’t a motivational stick or a complaint-eliminating machine gun.

Instead, it was a treasure chest filled with bundles of cash, jewels, accessories, and expensive paintings.

“What’s that?”

An employee from Angels House, catching the scent of money, asked in surprise.

“A donation,” Jane replied, though she directed her response at Marie rather than the employee.

Marie echoed the word, “A donation?”

“Yes… They say even when the rich go broke, their wealth lasts for three generations. Surprisingly, even in apocalyptic times, some people still had valuables to spare.”

“No way…”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. This isn’t a bribe or anything like that. It’s just something they gave us to help buy more food.”

Jane turned to Big Mouth.

“They were thankful for the food distribution. It’s not much, but they wanted to contribute. So, I brought it here. After all, it’s Big Mouth who provides the food.”

Jane showed Big Mouth the cash bundles, jewels, and famous paintings inside the treasure chest.

“By the way, what were you saying earlier?”

“Gururuk… Guruk-guruk.”

“You’re saying you’d like to give us a gift for doing such a great job keeping you motivated?”

“I said I’ll work,” Big Mouth replied flatly, dissatisfied with their interpretation.

Then, without hesitation, he swallowed the donation items whole—cash, jewels, and all—leaving not a single bill behind.

The employees of Angels House let out gasps of disappointment, but Jane consoled them.

“I’ll make sure you get bonuses.”

At her words, they quickly transformed their frowns into bright smiles and returned to their work—cooking and distributing the food Big Mouth produced to the people.

After Big Mouth and the employees left, only Marie and Jane remained in the room.

“You’ve been working really hard,” Marie began.

Jane nodded, sitting down naturally and stretching.

“Ugh… To be honest, it’s been a bit tough. Believe it or not, I was raised fairly delicately, so I’m not used to physical labor. Still, it’s not so bad.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, even though I grew up delicately, my heart didn’t grow to be gentle. That’s just how the Sisterhood is.”

Understanding the nature of the Sisterhood, Marie chose to respond with silence.

It had been an organization established for the survival of women at the bottom of society. But, like many organizations, its original purpose had been twisted over time, leading to the exploitation of women.

“I think it’s better to have a tired body and a peaceful heart… Besides, I like being the one leading the Sisterhood now, especially since most of the top leaders are gone.”

Most of the influential leaders, including Madame Miranda, who had controlled the Sisterhood with money, had attended the royal succession ceremony—and were reduced to ashes.

Marie nodded.

“That’s good to hear.”

“In that sense, how about you, Marie? Are you okay? You look very tired.”

The sudden question caught Marie off guard. She wanted to answer that she was fine, but even as a polite lie, she couldn’t.

Although she was doing desk work instead of physical labor like Jane, she was arguably more exhausted.

“The swarm of flies has been tiring me out,” she said.

“Have the remnants of the Black Hand sent more people than expected?”

“Yes.”

Just as a rumor spreads a thousand miles without legs, news of the near-apocalypse in the capital of the United Kingdom quickly spread across colonies and other nations alike.

This included rogue dark wizards who began rampaging in the absence of sacred law, as well as remnants of the Black Hand seeking a new center of power.

Among them were some who went beyond simply assessing the situation, attempting to usurp Oliver’s renown.

“…Actually, they’re not that big of a problem,” Marie said.

“Really? That’s surprising.”

“The Children are doing an excellent job apprehending them. Plus, the central witch of the continent seems to have unified the dark wizards, so it’s not as severe as one might think. The bigger issue lies within our own ranks.”

“Do you mean the Chosen?”

“Yes… That foolish ideology I irresponsibly spread is resurfacing.”

Marie replied weakly.

The “foolish ideology” she referred to was the belief that they alone were chosen by God.

After seeing Oliver fully embrace his mission, some became obsessed with the idea.

They began to believe that the true God was Oliver, and that they, as his followers, were the chosen ones.

Although the existing teachings prevented them from overtly expressing this belief, the undercurrent was unmistakable.

It wouldn’t take much for it to spread like poisonous mushrooms.

“You must be angry,” Jane said, offering sincere sympathy. As a leader herself, she could empathize with the burden.

“Well… I am angry, but at the same time, I’m not sure I have the right to be. After all, I’m the one who planted those thoughts in the first place. If you think about it, it’s my fault.”

Marie’s expression turned complicated, suggesting it was more than just a casual complaint.

“And on top of that, you’re also handling the Anti-Development Committee. That must be exhausting.”

“Oh… You knew?”

“Hehe. I’m acquainted with Mr. Forrest. He mentioned he’s retiring.”

Indeed, Forrest had recently announced his intention to retire.

Amid the chaos of assisting the capital’s recovery, he had struck a major deal to aid the reconstruction and resolve ownership issues of the Lost Island, only to abruptly inform Marie of his retirement.

“Even thinking about it now, it’s absurd.”

“What reason did he give for retiring?”

“After his time in prison, he said he realized he was too old for this rough line of work.”

“Well, it’s true he’s reached retirement age. And he’s made plenty of money.”

“He said he wants to spend the rest of his life quietly, doing light work… Ah.”

Marie stopped mid-sentence, as if a realization had struck her.

Forrest’s idea of “light work” was becoming the director of the orphaned Poor Brothers’ Welfare Center.

“I heard he told Oliver after being rescued that he regretted not listening to the advice of elders to live a good life. Then he asked Oliver if it was too late for him.”

“…What did Oliver say to that?”

“He apparently said he didn’t know at the time… I wonder what he’d say now?”

Marie pondered for a moment before letting out a small laugh.

The answer was obvious.

“I suppose I should quietly get back to work.”

“Right? It wouldn’t be fair if only Marie got to take it easy while I’m struggling too.”

“Were you always like this?”

"Yes, I’ve always been this way. It’s great not having to pretend," Jane said with a hearty laugh as she stood up.

She was heading off to work again. Marie watched her leave and returned to her own tasks. But just as Jane was about to exit, she poked her head back in through the doorway with a question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already are, but go ahead.”

“Oliver… do you know where he’s gone? I’m just curious.”

Marie hesitated briefly before answering.

“He said he was going to meet someone who had been waiting for him for a very long time. Someone who had waited alone for hundreds of years. He also mentioned he had other matters to handle.”

“Ah…”

“But don’t worry.”

“…?”

“He said he’ll definitely come back.”

Marie’s response came with a serene smile, one she had never worn in her entire life.

Jane quietly nodded in acknowledgment.