"I had a eting with military officers and arms dealers. For my research."
Kevin continued his work and spoke, as if it was nothing special.
Thinking about it, most of Kevin's personal research involved maximizing fire magic for military use.
From bombardnt magic that performs large-scale strikes from afar, to processing fire magic into items and supplying them to soldiers.
Of course, this was not strange.
The United Kingdom was expanding its colonies worldwide, pouring a lot of resources into the military. As a result, many people, including Kevin, were researching in this area.
This was an easily identifiable fact just by reading newspapers or listening to the radio.
"Also, it's a place where you can compete solely on skill, regardless of skin color. Not to ntion the rewards."
Kevin explained why he was researching military magic.
"So, isn't it for personal interest?"
Oliver, who had been observing Kevin's emotional state, asked for confirmation.
While Kevin was passionate and purpose-driven about his assigned research, he lacked the personal curiosity and joy of a scholar.
That was quite unusual.
Even though there were many wizards doing research to obtain investnts or grants, their basic nature was that of scholars, and they typically researched their fields of interest or closely related fields.
However, Kevin was different.
Regardless of his achievents in research and understanding of the relevant field, he had no particular curiosity or desire as a scholar in the military sector.
Kevin asked back.
"What did you say?"
"I asked if you're doing military research out of personal interest."
Oliver asked to confirm why Kevin was researching a field he wasn't interested in. Money or rewards were superficial reasons, and it seed there might be a more important reason beneath that. Kevin looked at Oliver with sparkling eyes, as if penetrating his thoughts.
"Why are you asking that?"
"Just curious. I'm curious why you work so hard in a field you're not interested in."
"……."
"If I've crossed a line with my question, I apologize."
"…It’s because it's sothing I have to do."
"Pardon?"
"It's sothing I have to do… That's all I can tell you."
"Um… I see. Thank you for your answer."
"Don't thank . It's not for free. I just happened to have a question for you."
"For ?”
"Yes, I'm curious about what was discussed at the investnt party. Can I hear about it?"
"Yes, of course. Not that there's much to tell… Do you want to talk about it now?”
"No, I have work to do now. We can talk over dinner after work."
"I already have a commitnt tonight. Could we postpone it until tomorrow?"
"A commitnt? What kind of commitnt?”
"I'm sorry. That's personal. I don't think I can tell you."
"I shared sothing difficult with you. Wouldn't it be polite to share a piece of your story?"
It was a rather reasonable argunt. After so consideration, Oliver replied.
"I have a personal curiosity and I'm going to seek advice about it. I also have a favor to ask.”
"Advice? A favor?”
"Yes."
Oliver nodded in response.
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
After postponing his appointnt with Kevin, Oliver delved into his work at the magic tower.
He wrote reports about the students he dealt with today from his perspective, submitted them to Kevin after completion, and then left for the day.
Afterward, Oliver headed ho. As soon as he arrived, he had a light al and prepared to go out again.
He changed into a different style of clothing, switched his shoes, and also paid attention to minor details like his belt, watch, and cologne.
After putting in such efforts, Oliver left his house again and visited Forrest’s new restaurant, located in District T.
"You're just on ti. Did you have your al?”
"I ate lightly."
"Good. We are pressed for ti… Get in the car."
Forrest opened the car door for Oliver.
After expressing his gratitude, Oliver got into the car. As soon as Forrest joined him, the car started moving towards their destination in District X.
"Here's the list. The ones who want to entrust you with their tasks."
Forrest handed Oliver a brown envelope.
Inside was a bundle of docunts, neither too thin nor too thick.
Oliver thanked him and started reviewing the list.
There were companies he had heard of before, such as Pinkman and Security Guard, as well as renowned rcenary groups in Landa.
While there had occasionally been such people on previous lists, their percentage had noticeably increased this ti.
When he asked Forrest about it, he replied.
"It's a natural outco. Just as money tends to accumulate with the rich, good opportunities also gather for capable individuals. It seems like attending that party had a significant impact."
"The party?"
"Yes, you made quite an impression by outclassing the students of the magic tower… Word got out. Why didn't you ntion anything about it?"
"I didn't think it was important enough to report?"
Forrest frowned in displeasure, but didn't push the matter. He knew that was just how Oliver was.
"Even if you think it's not important, you should tell … Anyway, because of that, you've gained more favor among Landa's upper class. Although warlocks are sowhat shunned, seeing you directly at the party has improved your image and given you credibility. It's good news. With the auction incident spreading your na, your reputation is now solidified."
Forrest seed pleased.
Looking at the docunts, Oliver could see why.
With the level of the clients increasing, the quality of the tasks and compensation also improved significantly.
Most notably, there were more tasks allowing Oliver to adjust the schedule at his convenience.
Almost two years into his life in Landa, Oliver found ti more valuable than money, so this was welco news.
‘These tasks won't conflict with my magic tower duties. I'm glad. It's been difficult to take leave freely since I started teaching the students… Ah, I'm really busy now?'
Oliver belatedly realized the outco of his choice.
It was harder to freely use his vacation days.
Of course, it wasn't impossible, but with responsibility on his shoulders, he was indeed less free than before.
He wanted to say "Oops," but decided to just let it go. It was too late to object anyway.
Luckily, he was now able to take on tasks in a more comfortable way, so he tried to be content with that.
"Any questions?" Forrest asked Oliver, who was reviewing the list.
"Um… none at the mont. I'm mostly satisfied with the tasks."
"It's the natural outco. It's a reward for your efforts. Just make sure to quickly decide what task you're going to take on. We have to get back to the clients."
Oliver agreed after reviewing the list again.
Just when Oliver and Forrest's conversation was about to end, Al, who was driving, spoke cautiously.
"Boss, Mr. Dave. We've arrived at the eting place. There are people out there."
Forrest and Oliver looked forward at Al's words.
As the sun was setting and the headlights were turned on, they could see a group of n in suits.
They were sitting casually on the ground, but as soon as they recognized the car Oliver was in, they stood up in a straight line.
It was familiar sohow.
"…Is that Joe?"
"Yes."
As the car stopped, Forrest responded and got out.
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
As soon as Oliver and Forrest got out of the car, Joe and the mbers of the Fighter Crew, all dressed in suits, approached and greeted them.
Even as he returned the greeting, Oliver studied the mbers of the Fighter Crew, noticing sothing strange.
"Why are our clothes so similar?" asked Oliver.
It wasn't wrong, they were indeed similar.
Since becoming a solver, Oliver had purposefully only worn one style of suit.
It was to give a consistent impression and to make it easy to disguise himself if necessary.
But the current style of the Fighter Crew's clothing was strikingly similar to his own.
When Oliver asked about it, Forrest responded.
"Hmm… Working with Cri Firm, they all decided to wear suits, to show that they're a united team. The Cri Firm is a big organization, so they need to maintain their dignity."
"But your explanation doesn't seem to cover why their clothes are similar to mine?"
Forrest looked perplexed at Oliver's question.
At this, Joe answered instead.
"We asked them to match it this way… We apologize if you were uncomfortable."
Joe bowed respectfully, apologizing.
He was more respectful than when Oliver had last seen him. His emotions towards Oliver had also beco more polite.
Confused by this inexplicable change, Oliver said,
"No, I'm not angry, just curious. This might fan the flas of strange rumors… You've heard it too, haven't you? The baseless rumor that I'm your leader."
"About that-"
"-Can we have the small talk later and start with the business?"
Forrest interrupted just as Joe was about to respond.
Oliver and Joe looked at him as he tapped his wristwatch and spoke again.
"Ti is a limited resource, and we should deal with the most important things first. What's our purpose here?"
Oliver rembered that he had co here to et Ewan.
"Ah… thank you for reminding . Joe, could you help et Mr. Ewan? I heard you know where he is."
"Yes, we have secured him. We will guide you right away."
"…Secured?"
"Yes."
With that answer, Joe gestured, and people nearby began to secure the surroundings of Oliver and Forrest.
Confused, Oliver looked at Forrest, who pointed forward.
"Follow."
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
"I keep getting surprised today."
Oliver said as he entered the warehouse.
Inside the warehouse was Ewan Bremner, drunk and shackled at the ankles.
He was the master of Smith, who had created Bigmouth, and a warlock craftsman who had created at Hamr.
Around him, bottles of alcohol were scattered all over, and Oliver, unable to believe the sight before him, rubbed his eyes and looked again.
Even after looking again, it was the sa.
"Why is he like this?"
"The explanation would be long, but in short, he ca here to et Smith and spent his ti in the local pub and gambling house."
"Is there a problem?"
"There's a problem if he pays with fake money."
"Pardon?"
"The money he spent on alcohol and gambling turned into leaves after a day."
"……??"
Oliver looked at Ewan, doubting his own ears.
Forrest also seed surprised and asked.
"But how is he alive?"
"The people who were actually cheated wanted to flay him alive, but our guys found him just in ti. We paid back the money on his behalf and secured him. The shackles are there to prevent him from running away… Hey, bring it quickly!"
At Joe's prompt, a mber of the Fighter Crew brought a bucket of water.
Without any hesitation, Joe threw the water from the bucket at Ewan, who was lying down, shackled.
With a refreshing sound, Ewan sprang up.
"Yeehaw! Git a load of that! Uwaaahhhhhh-! Mighty fine royal straight flushhhh!!!… What's everyone doing? Where's my royal straight flush?"
Soaked, Ewan asked the people looking down at him.
(To be Continued)
OR
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