#735 (Patreon)

Cleanup (3)

"Dave...!!"  

Following Al's guidance, Oliver entered the office inside the restaurant where Marie and Forrest, who had been conversing with serious expressions, suddenly stood up and called out to him.  

Their expressions were as if they had seen a ghost.  

Not in a bad sense, just that they were that shocked.  

It made sense, considering Oliver had disappeared after uncovering the ugly secrets of the kingdom’s army, liberating Landa, and defeating the attacking puppet at the Magic Tower, only to appear suddenly.  

In any case, both Forrest and Marie were visibly startled by Oliver’s sudden disappearance and reappearance.  

"Mr. Forrest. Marie. Hello to both of you."  

Oliver greeted them casually, waving his hand, whether he knew their state of mind or not.  

"No... I... Ah..."  

Forrest started to say something, then sighed, and Marie, too, was unable to say anything, just examining Oliver.  

Worried that he might have been hurt somewhere.  

Fortunately, she found no injuries, which relieved her, but then she started to cautiously gauge Oliver’s mood again.  

It was understandable.  

She had faced Oliver’s turmoil and anger just a few days ago.  

Oliver was tormented by the fact that he was the prince of hell, denying himself and expressing resentment and injustice towards his fate.  

—This is too much, isn't it? I didn’t choose to be born this way. 

Marie empathized with him.  

He was right.  

Just as being born poor is not something to be despised, being born high is not justified in bearing a harsher burden.  

However, Marie denied that fact and treated him in the very way Oliver least wanted, purely for her own satisfaction.  

In their last conversation, Marie realized how irresponsible her actions had been, and therefore, she could not face Oliver directly at this moment.  

Just like that...  

Thump.  

A gentle, though awkward, hand touched Marie’s shoulder as she had her eyes closed and head bowed.  

The startled Marie opened her eyes and looked up to meet Oliver’s gaze.  

It seemed like a misunderstanding, but it looked like he was trying to smile, at least making an effort.  

"Could you wait a moment? I have something to say to Mr. Forrest first."  

"..."  

"It would be nice if you could answer."  

"Yes..."  

Marie answered as if spellbound.  

Oliver then turned his gaze towards Forrest.  

"It doesn’t seem too late."  

"What?"  

"The matter of doing good deeds. It doesn’t seem too late outside."  

"Ah..."  

Realizing what he meant, Forrest involuntarily exclaimed.  

Before attacking the kingdom’s army at the city hall, Forrest had said:  

—Adults tell us to live righteously. I thought it was nonsense, but maybe because of my age, I understand the reasons a bit now. I should have lived more righteously... Is it too late?

Feeling guilty and self-loathing as Oliver, who he liked, saw his sins and felt disappointed.  

It took Forrest this age to finally realize the reasons to live righteously.  

Not to suppress others, but to stand proud for oneself.  

But it was too late.  

Forrest shook his head.  

"It wasn't my idea, but Al’s. It has nothing to do with me."  

"If Mr. Forrest hadn’t permitted it, he wouldn’t even have tried. You hired Al, and you manage the restaurant’s affairs."  

"Was there an incident?"  

Forrest asked, sensing a different atmosphere from the last time they met.  

It had become much calmer.  

Oliver shrugged.  

"Just a little... May I make a request?"  

"Go ahead."  

"Could you please go to Cross King Hotel, room 444, and take care of Mr. Kent’s body?"  

"Kent...?"  

"Yes, the body has not decomposed and remains intact. Actually, I wanted to take care of it myself, but it seemed selfish to do so. After much thought, it seems only right that Forrest and the poor brothers should conduct a proper funeral."  

Forrest staggered for a moment.  

In a way, it was an inappropriate reaction.  

A middleman is an entity that connects violence and death.  

Thus, the life of a middleman is close to death, not only for oneself but also for those around.  

So, staggering at someone's death was not only unprofessional, but it could also be considered immoral.  

Forrest was not unaware of this.  

However, he was shocked.  

Kent was a friend before he was a middleman, a friend with whom he had reconciled after decades of separation.  

It was the death of such a friend.  

"It's because of me that he passed away. He said it wasn't, though."  

Oliver spoke to a shocked Forrest.  

Forrest couldn't say anything.  

"You may resent me—"  

"—I don't resent... I don't. He wouldn't have wanted that. Never."  

Forrest took a moment to gather his thoughts.  

"May I be excused?"  

"Yes, please."  

With permission given, Forrest grabbed his coat and tried to leave the office, passing by Oliver.  

As Forrest was passing by, Oliver caught him.  

"It will probably be confusing and sad. The poor brothers that Mr. Kent was responsible for."  

"..."  

"Just so you know."  

Oliver said, looking at Forrest's face, who paused to think for a moment and then nodded.  

Forrest left the office, leaving only Oliver and Marie inside.  

"Would you like a drink?"  

Oliver naturally picked up a bottle of alcohol from the desk and poured it into a crystal glass.  

Instead of responding, Marie brought up something else, seeming to know something.  

"Oliver... Are you going to stop the apocalypse?"  

"The drink is good."  

"Will you defy fate?"  

"Do you hope that I follow fate, Marie?"  

"I hope you run away from fate!"  

Marie inadvertently shouted what she hoped for Oliver.  

At one time, and still, Marie thought of Oliver as a god, but paradoxically, she hoped that he would escape his fate.  

When he had come to save them in Wineham, she realized how selfish it was.  

Oliver had spent peaceful times in Landa, yet he had to endure hardship and pain to save them, who had unilaterally worshiped him as a god.  

Even after coming to Landa, she had seen how much he suffered every time he realized his fate.  

During this time, a demon appeared before Marie.  

A woman riding a camel, appearing through the darkness.  

She informed Marie about Oliver’s irrational, unjust, and painful fate.  

This fate was as Ewan had said.  

Not even gods, angels, or adults could endure the trials imposed on a child.  

It was literally irrational, unjust, and painful.  

That's why Marie now hoped that Oliver would escape.  

She had seen how much he suffered.  

Marie no longer wanted Oliver to suffer but to be at ease.  

Even if the result was the apocalypse.  

That's why she did not reject the warlocks of the Black Hand who came calling, maintaining a certain distance, to use them if necessary.  

"Aren't you worried about the others? The people who learned from Marie."  

"Chosen ones will agree with my opinion."  

"I'm asking about Marie's thoughts towards them, not what they think."  

"..."  

"Did the time spent with them mean nothing to Marie?"  

Oliver looked at Marie. He could see not only her appearance but also the sins she had committed.  

She had coerced and pressured people to spread the faith she had arbitrarily created. Yet, it was also true that she had helped the needy during that process.  

Orphans, single mothers, the sick, the elderly. Those who received help sincerely followed Marie's teachings.  

"It has been days filled with sin, just as you said, Oliver... I merely consumed and used you for my own satisfaction."  

"I forgive you," Oliver said without a moment's hesitation.  

Marie stuttered, "And, for my vanity and satisfaction, I rejected those who did not follow the teachings, I coerced and subjugated them... I am a sinner. For my own satisfaction, without considering Oliver, just to prove that I am someone special..."  

"Marie."  

As Marie, confessing her sins, seemed about to collapse, Oliver called her with a calm voice.  

Her eyes, which seemed about to shed tears at any moment, and her face, which seemed about to crumble, regained stability at his voice.  

Marie looked at Oliver with those eyes and face, and Oliver, looking back into her eyes, asked, "Do you love me?" Asking if she loved him.  

Marie froze for a moment, unable to respond.  

As if she had been caught in a sin that should never have been revealed.  

While Marie was unable to respond or act, Oliver took off the leather mask he was wearing. Along with it, Oliver's real face was revealed.  

A youthful face that had not yet shed all traces of a boy, but, strangely, it contained an indescribable depth.  

"Ah..."  

Upon seeing Oliver's bare face, Marie instinctively stepped back like a sinner, and Oliver approached her.  

Then he spread his arms and embraced her gently.  

Very gently. Marie's body, which had been rigid, stiffened even more.  

"Thank you, Marie. For loving me. I sincerely appreciate the love you've given me, which is more than I deserve."  

At Oliver's whisper, Marie's body relaxed.  

"But, because of that, I wish you didn't love only me. I wish you loved others too. Those who loved you enough to protect you to the end of their lives. I hope you find joy among them."  

Surprised, Marie's eyes widened and then tears welled up, and a single tear streamed down.  

Feeling something from those tears, Marie, with a desperate strength, pulled away from Oliver's embrace and confessed her desires.  

"I... I just wish you were happy. I wish you weren't in pain anymore. A demon told me. A woman riding a camel."  

"What did she say?"  

"That whether you follow your fate or defy it, it's only pain. Just approaching your fate is pain for you. I don't want you to endure such pain."  

Marie pleaded through her tears.  

Oliver silently watched Marie and then finally spoke.  

"My fate is indeed a painful one. But it's no longer painful. I've decided to accept this fate."  

"..."  

"I love you, Marie. At least, I will try to love. So, Marie."  

Oliver held Marie with both hands, straightening her slouched body.  

Marie stood straight under Oliver's gentle touch.  

"Will you help me? Help me love everyone."  

After the conversation with Marie.  

Oliver asked Al for a good bottle of liquor and some free meals before stepping out of Forrest's restaurant.  

He then visited District X. There he met Joe from the Fighter Crew and Captain Hook, who was temporarily staying there, and had a brief conversation.  

After talking with them, he briefly visited the Development Opposition Committee in District Z.  

"Mr. Bartholomew."  

"..."  

There, too, he had a meaningful conversation before visiting District X again. He visited an old building in the newly redeveloped District X, a part that redevelopment had not touched.  

An old fence surrounded the derelict hospital. Oliver entered through a side gate behind the fence and went underground through a large door next to a storage room.  

As he entered the underground, darkness greeted Oliver, and soon after, the smell of rotting corpses, skeletons, half-decayed bodies, and maggots welcomed him.  

Oliver continued past these and turned into a corridor on the right.  

Through that corridor, a large room appeared.  

Despite the passage of considerable time, many corpses had accumulated. Among those corpses, one with an arm missing was seated against an altar.  

"It's been a while, master."  

Oliver greeted the one-armed corpse and then unpacked the alcohol and food he had brought earlier, arranging it in front of the corpse.  

He poured the alcohol into a cup and placed the food on a plate with great care.  

Then, Oliver sat down comfortably opposite the corpse and pulled out a book from his bag.  

It was a book he had once been interested in but had lost interest in at some point. It was a Book about demons he had received from Edith.  

Oliver began to read the book.  

Initially, when he received the book, it had more blank spaces than text, but now it had more text.  

It had been filled by consuming the same type of demonic books, and Oliver carefully read through the content.  

Flap. Flap. Flap.  

The book contained stories about demons, and each time he read, he developed a headache, and his eyes began to hurt.  

Perhaps due to the pain in his eyes, his vision gradually darkened.  

However, Oliver continued to read the book, and as his vision darkened, the letters written in the book densely packed together and then rearranged themselves.  

It was as if each character danced with a will of its own.  

The rearranged characters formed a pattern, and the pattern soon rose and took shape.  

Thud.  

At that moment, Oliver closed the book and looked ahead.  

Where the pattern of characters had been, something now stood.  

A small horse made of rotten flesh and skull, ridden by an old man with hair and a beard made of intestines. Incidentally, it seemed that Joseph's corpse had formed the framework for the old man.  

Oliver lowered his gaze to inspect the alcohol and food laid out in front of Joseph.  

It appeared as if someone had eaten it, as the alcohol and food had vanished cleanly.  

Noticing this, Oliver raised his gaze again toward the old man on the horse.  

"How are you?"