"It's great to meet you like this."

"Likewise! There's a saying in Landa that even though it's wide, it's narrow, and I think I finally understand what it means."

Oliver and the chubby warlock went to a less crowded corner after greeting each other.

The chubby warlock had lost some weight while Oliver hadn't seen him, but judging from his somewhat weakened life-force, it seemed that he had lost it through hard work rather than exercise.

But apart from that, he was genuinely happy to see Oliver.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to see a familiar face here," the chubby warlock said, his words filled with sincerity.

"I feel the same way. The gray market opened a while ago, and I went to check it out again, but I was disappointed not to see you." Oliver replied

The chubby warlock's expression suddenly changed, as if he had just remembered something unpleasant.

"Ah! That's right you." he began, his emotions shifting rapidly from anger to wonder to curiosity.

The chubby warlock stirred up a more intricate whirlwind of emotions compared to their initial encounter. While their first meeting had a distinct objective centered around business, now he felt more uncertain than before. He had something to confide in Oliver, yet he hesitated to voice it, cowed by the fear of how Oliver might react.

"I'm not sure what's happening, but I'd appreciate it if you could fill me in."

Hearing Olivers words, the chubby warlock took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Oliver's face. "Your name's Dave, right? You're a rising and powerful solver in District T?"

"I don't know about being powerful, but I am Dave, a solver who works in District T."

"Oh I made a deal with a big shot." The chubby warlock muttered helplessly as if he was dumbfounded.

When Oliver asked about it, he immediately told him why.

After making a deal with Oliver, he was spending time like any other day, but suddenly the number of customers increased one by one.

"Is it because of me?"

"It's probably because they saw the glutton bag you use in District T. Do you remember it?"

"Uh I've used it a few times in the black market, is that why?" Oliver asked, slightly surprised.

He never thought others would look at him that closely, although there were some people who were interested in watching Big Mouth swallow things.

It seemed like Forrest's warning was not a lie. A big glutton bag might reveal his identity.

Dean Cleary, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly interrupted and asked. "It's normal to imitate the equipment of a popular solver. But, I don't understand. It's not a thing to argue about, right? Wouldn't it be nice if customers came thanks to that?"

Dean Cleary, the owner of the gym in the rough District X, leaned forward, his voice sharp as he interrogated the chubby warlock before him. His questions came out like blows, a reflection of the rough and tough environment he was accustomed to.

But despite the intimidating demeanor of the gym owner, the chubby warlock answered calmly, showing a courage that belied his timid nature.

"Ugh I'm not arguing. Rumors spread strangely. Like Im this guy who can make a big obedient glutton bag."

"Um Can't you just warn them as you warned me?" Oliver asked.

"I did more than that! The glutton bag isn't like a regular bag, it's an artificial creature with its own ego. When it's small, it's obedient, but when it gets bigger, it can be difficult to control. In the past, there have been cases where glutton bags have killed and eaten their owners. I told them everything, but no one listened. They thought it was okay because they saw you use it well."

"So, are you saying it's this guy's fault?" Dean's voice rose, commanding attention even in the midst of the noisy martial arts match happening around them.

Oliver wanted to know why he was doing that, and Dean soon gave the reason.

"This guy is a beefcake who pays several times the membership fee at my gym, no, he's a member of my gym! Are you going to argue with him? Oh, you won't make it home safely today. Do you know my specialty? One!! Two!!! One!! Two!!!

"No, it's okay, Instructor. By the way, how much extra did I pay for the membership fee?"

It doesn't matter now!"

In the messy conversation, the chubby warlock waved both his hands in denial. No, no that's not it. I'm not a salesman with no conscience to dump customers. I just want to ask you something.

Noting that his words were sincere, Oliver spoke up. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you using the glutton bag without any problems?"

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, sometimes it refuses to work, but with a little encouragement, it works hard."

In fact, Big Mouth helped Oliver tremendously by eating anything he gave it. It swallows a huge amount of corpses and objects with one gulp and stores them conveniently.

"Were there any issues with the ones you sold?"

I made and sold it to several customers, but half of them couldnt handle it, and the other half were attacked, injured, or killed by the glutton bag.

"Um really?"

Seeing the chubby warlock's emotions, Oliver knew it was true, but still he couldn't believe it and asked.

At least in Oliver's experience, the chubby warlock's glutton bag was both useful and convenient.

Yes, really. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

The chubby warlock began recounting how he got here.

He explained that due to complaints from customers and reports from neighboring Warlocks, who were his competitors, the stall was removed, and the person in charge of Gray Market demanded a significant sum of compensation for damages caused.

Damage?

"Yes. He said my actions have ruined the reputation of the business. Additionally, he claimed that he paid for disgruntled customers. It's absurd, but I couldn't dispute it."

"Why not?"

"He had a gun, and I don't know how to defend myself."

"Um..."

Following that, the chubby warlock said he got a job at Crime Firm's black magic workshop.

Because he was broke, he was forced to pay with his body.

Despite the rumors, they believed that the chubby warlock could make an obedient big glutton bag and forced him to make one.

There were many warlocks in the same pitiful situation as me.

"Um How did you manage to escape?"

"I stole items from the workshop and set off black magic-infused firecrackers in broad daylight. The paladins came, and amidst the chaos, I was the only one who got away."

For some reason, Oliver felt like he had heard a similar story from Murphy.

"Okay So everything is okay now, right?"

"No, it's not. Crime Firm found out about my escape and is trying to kill me now. That's why I'm here."

"Are you being helped by a gang that aids fugitives?" Oliver asked, drawing on his past knowledge.

"Yes, exactly" The chubby warlock nodded and replied, his voice and emotions quivering with worry.

Dean Cleary, who stood quietly listening to the conversation, noticed something and approached the chubby warlock. "You seem troubled. Can I talk to you? I might be able to help."

As Dean's arm gently grasped him, the chubby warlock panicked and tried to back away, but Dean didn't let go. He was like a predator that caught its prey.

Dean spoke to Oliver. "If you don't mind, can you wait here? The next match will start soon, and I need to discuss some business."

Business?

Yes, business.

The chubby warlock shook his head in confusion at the words that went against his will, but Dean Cleary refused to let go and dragged him away.

The chubby warlock glowed with emotions that were asking Oliver for help, but Oliver turned a blind eye because Dean Cleary's emotions only had greed and opportunity, no murderous intent or malice.

"Okay, let's go then."

"No, wait How are you so strong?"

Dean Cleary and the chubby warlock disappeared into a dark hallway, and Oliver turned his head to look at the arena.

As Dean said, the match was over and preparations were made for the next match.

The defeated fighter was carried out with a crushed face, and the disappointed bettors threw their tickets in the air.

Emotions ran high, with happiness, anger, joy, and sadness all on display, and the next set of fighters appeared before the heat dissipated.

Joe, wearing only pants and no shirt, came showcasing his strong muscles and scars on his body.

The audience, particularly the women, greeted Joe with cheers.

Oliver had heard from Joe about being a fighter before, and it seemed like he was quite popular.

Despite his popularity, Oliver could see that Joe was not in his usual good mood, seeing his emotional state lower than usual.

After a while, the next fighter came out. Contrary to the expectation that a tough man would come out, the opponent was a skinny man and hardly suitable for a match like this. He was in a state where he would lie down on a hospital bed at any moment.

Nevertheless, the numerous spectators gathered in the arena did not wonder or laugh. Rather, they cheered as if they were expecting him.

Oliver soon discovered the reason, the player's body wasn't just weakened; it had faint but clear signs of black magic.

Saggy muscles, two eyes out of focus, missing hair, ragged teeth, and nails. All of these were side effects of people who have abused black magic to the limit.

"Inject the drug!" The men who seemed to be the fighter's colleagues forcibly fed and injected the drug with the energy of black magic. Then a change happened.

The fighter, who seemed about to collapse at any moment, had his entire body dyed in dark red, and his height and muscles grew immeasurably. It was at the level where something came out of nothing. The body shuddered as if burning the last bit of Life-force, and the spectators watching the transformation were frightened and backed away.

The only one calm there was Joe, on the other side. Joe must have seen this kind of thing a lot, and he took out a test tube from his waist and extracted emotions, unprocessed emotions while shining his boring emotions.

Along with that, he used [Burning Life] to strengthen his body as a whole, and then put on a small amount of black suit and black armor on the attacking parts such as arms and legs.

"Um Amazing." Oliver murmured in admiration.

While Joes physical abilities and close combat abilities far exceeded Oliver's, his ability to deal with black magic wasn't that great.

However, he didn't give up, and seemed to have found the best way to use black magic that suited him through practice and study.

At the menacing look from Joe, the frightened audience chanted Joe's name and waved their tickets in the air, as if they felt signs of victory.

Knuckle Joe!

Knuckle Joe!

Knuckle Joe!

In the midst of the cheers, Joe and his opponent faced each other.

The bell rang signaling the match, and the two players clashed.

"What are you doing here?"

After finishing the match in 15 seconds, Joe came down and stumbled upon Oliver, and asked.

(To be Continued on Apr 03(MON))

OR

$5/month6 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$15/month12 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$30/month19 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$45/monthAll advance chap + 6 chap/week