“What…What does that mean?”
A bewildered voice was heard from a place behind the sausage factory.
It was a place that people rarely visit, so garbage and junk were piled up everywhere, and rats wandered around.
Right now, two men stood in that place.
One was as rugged as a backstreet thug, and the other was a blond with a handsome face.
It was Tom and Andrew.
"Calm down."
Andrew said in an effort to calm Tom down.
However, Tom didn't seem to have any intention of doing that.
He was in a panic.
"How can I calm down?!… a match? A test to become a formal disciple? Why should I do that in the first place? It's my rightful place!!"
Tom's eyes were tearful, which didn’t go well with his rugged appearance.
That's how unfair it was.
Indeed, anyone normal would behave like that in a similar situation.
Tom, who had secured a seat as a formal disciple and was days away from becoming a formal disciple, has to now have a battle with a boy, who came just a week ago for that seat.
But Andrew's response was callous.
"Stop…! Stop being so weak. In the first place, it's already decided. What can you do if you feel wronged?”
"Oh, but couldn’t Senior Andrew be able to say something?"
“Did you think I didn’t say anything? I said! Along with other senior students we spoke to the Master and said that it doesn't make sense to give such a perk to a guy who's only been here for a week! But it didn't work. His last performance was so overwhelming that…."
Andrew blurted the end of his sentence, and Tom felt even more desperate.
Tom was there, too.
Originally, it was a place to show off his ability as the next formal disciple, but funnily, it became a stage for a guy who stayed here for less than a week.
Tom was still suspicious.
He couldn’t believe the things that conspired in front of his eyes.
As if it wasn't enough to extract a huge emotion, the new guy processed the emotion into a way bigger and a way stranger shape.
Everything felt like a dream — a terrible dream.
Tom said with eyes filled with tears.
"It's unfair… It's unfair, Senior. You know how hard I tried to be a formal disciple."
At that moment, Andrew pushed Tom toward the wall.
"Wake up! Get a hold of yourself! I told you, it's already decided! And this match is a rather good thing for you. If there was a guy with a talent like that, even if you became a formal disciple, you'd one day be pushed out!"
Tom's expression grew even darker.
He thought of everything he did to get on the good side of Andrew.
He stole the sausages from the factory, sold them in the back alley, and gave him all the money, but now instead of helping, he’s getting preached, he couldn't help but feel wronged hearing it.
But there was nothing Tom could do.
Since this was the world of black magic.
A world where power was everything,
Andrew said again.
"Again, it was you who would have got pushed out in the first place. But I persuaded the master along with the other senior disciples to decide it with a match. So you should rather thank me."
Tom said nothing, but he was still filled with disappointment.
Andrew opened his mouth again with satisfaction.
“……….I understand you're hurt, but I think it's an opportunity."
"Opportunity?"
"Yeah, opportunity. You see… that Oliver or something. How talented do you think he is?"
Tom replied after thinking for a while.
“…I think.…he has great talent.”
"Yeah, but black magic is not just about talent. If you're going to step on him, there’s no better chance than right now. Think. If someone with that talent is taught in earnest, he'll someday stand above you. Can you stand a situation in which a guy who just came in, order you around?"
Tom shook his head firmly.
Just being from the streets didn’t mean that he had no pride.
No, he was more obsessed with that because he was from the streets.
“It would be hard to hurt him now because the Master is watching him now. Then, you should trample that bugger head-on and proudly."
Tom understood the meaning and asked cautiously.
"To trample proudly…"
Andrew handed two small glass bottles to Tom.
A special glass bottle that had a strange magic line drawn on the outside, and the black light inside it was shaking vigorously.
"No matter how talented he is, all he could have learned right away is the basic skills, Hate Bullet and Black Shield. So, you have to use this. If you open the lid and throw it at him, it will be over.”
“What's this?”
"My specialty, Las Bomb. It can completely destroy the simple black shield made by beginners. I wanted to put in stronger black magic, but I compromised as much as I could because it could raise suspicion."
Tom’s squeezed the bottle tightly in his hand.
“That guy Oliver is said to be brought from a mine, and he's actually dull, so he won't be able to respond to the sudden situation. Then, you can pretend as if you made a mistake and kill him."
Tom calculated.
If he used the black magic Andrew gave him during the fight, the guy named Oliver would surely be confused by the tremendous firepower, and if he attacked again then, it would be possible enough to make that guy disappear.
"Then you'll be a regular disciple, and the troublemaker will just disappear. Our peace will be preserved. If everything goes well, I'll take responsibility for you, and raise you to an Intermediate disciple… no, maybe a senior disciple."
Tom's eyes grew bigger hearing about the position like a nobleman attended by his servants.
When it comes to senior disciples they were paid high wages, and they could learn to run a business.
It was Tom's goal, his dream.
Farewell to the garbage life…!
Tom was suddenly encouraged and motivated.
Andrew smirked looking at Tom's feelings.
‘As expected, people are easy to handle. The more stupid they are, the easy handling them will be.’
Andrew said again.
"So make sure you knock down Oliver. Then I'll definitely watch your back. OK?"
Tom nodded, clutching the bottle Andrew handed him.
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
The last day of the month May.
Originally, this day was supposed to be the day for the appointment of the new official disciple.
The nominee was Tom.
It should have been a day where everyone except Tom should have looked sad.
However, a small unexpected event occurred, and the day of appointing a formal student suddenly turned into a match day.
The match between Tom and Oliver.
The prize for the winner was the official disciple position.
It was a position that was created thanks to the death of one of the low-level junior disciples due to food poisoning, and no one knew when the seat would be created.
Therefore, Tom's expression was tense.
Because he knew how grave the situation was.
Oliver, on the other hand, had his usual blank expression. As if he didn't know how much privilege he will be getting if he win the battle!
Tom looked around.
There were about 30 informal disciples, about 20 low-level junior disciples, about 10 intermediate disciples, and 5 senior disciples.
The senior and intermediate disciples laughed and talked leisurely, treating the match as entertainment, and what was even more annoying was the eyes of the informal disciples.
Their eyes were shining cold with insidious expectations, expecting Tom's downfall.
This made Tom's rage rise up.
‘Let’s see who's going to go down?’
Tom fiddled with the two bottles of glass that were in his pocket while thinking.
He thought that if he used it properly, Oliver, the guy who came in just a week ago, would be finished in an instant.
He thought maybe he might get caught in the eyes of the master and be taught more by him.
If that happens, Tom thought he might become a senior disciple, and one day, he might become a true warlock and say goodbye to his life at the bottom of society.
After thinking about it, Tom came up to the podium with courage and desire.
Oliver came up next.
"Well then, we don't need useless rhetoric, do we? Prove your worth with force. Start the Match!"
Tom, hearing the words of Joseph, extracted the emotions from the test tube he was given and shot Hate Bullet immediately.
Since he learned the basics, Oliver managed to prevent the attack by making a small black shield.
‘Of course. No matter how talented you are, it's hard to learn black magic in such a short time!’
‘I can win!’
‘I can win. Yes!'
Tom screamed inwardly, extracting emotions from the test tube again and shooting Hate Bullet.
Although it was the basics of the basics, it was a powerful and efficient attack.
Oliver seemed like giving his all to block the attack, let alone counterattacking.
Tom didn't lose his momentum and continued to shoot Hate Bullet.
Bullets of hate flooded in, and Oliver spread a small black shield every time.
A black bullet that cuts through the air, a black curtain that blocks the bullet.
At that moment a voice was heard in the head of Tom who was on the offensive.
-Stop! you’ve already used a lot of emotions. Be careful!
Tom stopped at that moment.
He heard Andrew's voice in his head.
It was a kind of telepathy.
Tom paused the attack, as Andrew advised, and examined the emotions left on the test tube.
Surprisingly, as Andrew said, only one-third of the emotions were left in the test tube.
Maybe it's natural because he kept attacking like that.
However, what was surprising was Oliver's condition.
Even though he attacked so hard, there was not even a scratch on him.
Far from being hurt, there was no expression on his face, and the emotions left in the test tube were similar to what they were when they were first handed out.
At that moment Tom realized.
Oliver was not in a hurry to stop his attack, he just stopped it moderately.
He was just playing around with him.
Like a thug fighting a weak child.
At that moment Tom felt a surge of anger.
He felt humiliated.
Tom took out a glass bottle hidden in his pocket.
Then he shouted.
"Let's see if you can stop this and get away with it! Las Bomb!"
Tom threw a fist-sized black bead at Oliver.
Oliver hurriedly spread the black shield in surprise, but it was meaningless.
The moment the bomb of anger touched the black shield, a huge explosion erupted, and the basement shook.
The people who were sitting close to Oliver fell backward, while screams and admiration poured out from here and there.
"Did you just see that?"
“How did an informal disciple learn the Las Bomb…!"
"How did he learn that?"
"You have to be in the intermediate disciple level to learn it?"
Tom smiled.
He imprinted his presence on every one.
He thought that the master now had no choice but to keep an eye on him.
‘ha! Look at that. You bragged about your talent, and see where you eventually… Huh?’
The smile on Tom’s face started disappearing.
It was because as the smoke gradually cleared up, he saw Oliver standing there leisurely.
"Wow…..how did you do that?"
Oliver said, looking at Tom.
Far from being afraid, there wasn’t a hint of surprise.
He was rather pleased.
‘What? How? No way….This is Senior Andrew’s spell. How can he..?’
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Tom felt a strange feeling — A feeling he never felt
‘Yes, something must be wrong. There’s no way a kid who just came in can stop this attack…'
Tom hurriedly pulled out the last remaining Las Bomb without noticing the situation he was in.
He opened the glass bottle and threw it at Oliver once again, and when Oliver saw it, he shot Hate Bullet at that bottle, and in an instant, it exploded in the air.
Once again, a huge roar swept the area.
However, the difference this time was Tom also got swept away as he couldn’t overcome the shock and fell backward.
"Huh? Ugh?"
Unlike his usual self, Tom groaned when he looked at Oliver standing still with a black shield.
‘What the hell is that? What kind of monster am I fighting with?’
Along with fear a lot of questions popped up in his head.
‘Why?? This should be the day I get appointed as a formal disciple…Why?’
‘Why?? This should be the day I will be eating a proper meal rather than the tasteless bread and soup…Why?’
‘Why?? This should be the day I will be starting to learn black magic rather than working in the factory….Why?… What the hell is this?’
“Are you all right?”
Oliver said as he approached.
All Tom could do was scream and look around.
“Please…. help me.”
But, there was no one to help, and all he could see were cold eyes sneering at him.
It was the gaze that he received while wandering the streets.
Anger rose inside Tom.
Anger at the world, anger at the sudden appearance of a hurdle.
Tom tried to fight again using this anger as the source, but at that moment he heard the voice of the devil.
"Oh, that's a relief. You're all right,"
Saying that the devil reached out.
And soon the devil started extracting Tom's anger
“………”
Tom opened his eyes wide, but Oliver immediately stopped paying attention to Tom and began processing the extracted anger.
“It’s called, Las Bomb…right?"
Tom's instinct shouted asking him to run away, but the body didn't move.
‘What the hell is he?!’
Oliver once again processed the Las Bomb.
He compressed the bomb to the size of a fist and placed it on hate bullet.
He aimed at Tom in that state.
"….. Aren't you going to defend yourself?"
Instinctively Tom deployed the Black Shield, praying to God.
‘Please, just this once, help me, save me.’
As he was praying, the devil opened his mouth and said,
"Las Bullet."
The bullet of anger flew at the chant in a straight line and penetrated the black shield.
The bullet penetrated through Tom without any mercy and exploded inside Tom's body along with him.
BOOOOM
Red showers started pouring down at the sound of the explosion which was incomparable to that of Tom’s Las Bomb.
When everyone’s gaze was fixed on the podium, someone’s voice was heard.
"The winner, Oliver.”
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