Genius Warlock

With the security guard's approval, the vehicle effortlessly passed through the castle-like wall, and Al skillfully navigated to the parking lot via the road.

The ride was smooth and effortless, like water flowing without a sound, making it comfortable and preventing any chance of car sickness.

Forrest, who was assisted by Al in exiting the car, explained,

"It's thanks to the training provided to the red people in Landa immediately after the driving laws were passed."

"Driving laws? Was it not like this before?"

"Yes… Al, wait here," Forrest instructed.

"Yes, Boss. Please come back safely."

"Don't worry. I’m not here to thank, it's a job. Don't wait outside, wait in the car."

"Yes, Boss."

Al bowed his head respectfully.

Forrest and Oliver walked together towards the heavily fortified office building of the Ministry of Interior.

Forrest explained, "Originally, people of red, black, and Eastern descent were not legally allowed to drive."

"Why is that?" Oliver asked, surprised.

"The reasons are complicated. Driving a car is more complex than one might think, and they believed that it was too dangerous for an underdeveloped, inferior race to do it,"

Forrest replied, tapping his temples.

"Really?"

Oliver asked, surprised.

Despite his different skin color, Al had impressed Oliver with his cleverness.

The note he had given him about the restaurant job was well-written with detailed information, and it even included several amusing jokes.

"At least that's what the opposition claims. For obvious scientific reasons," Forrest replied.

"Does Mr. Forrest believe that too?" Oliver asked.

"Me? Well, I come from a stuffy kingdom and I'm a snobbish Landaner, but I don't agree. You can easily tell by looking at Al's driving skills," Forrest said.

Oliver nodded in agreement. He had taken many taxis in his life, but Al's driving skills were among the best he had seen.

"There are many other reasons as well. It may be that a race that you consider inferior to yourself does not like driving, or they were efforts to prevent competition," Forrest explained.

"Competition?" Oliver asked.

"In Landa, you can make a living just by driving. Like a taxi driver, a truck driver… Well, it's a threat to them if the owners can get a relatively cheap labor force. That's why they're crying out to stop people of color from driving," Forrest said.

Oliver pondered Forrest's words.

It was a bit ironic. In the past, truckers joined hands with trade unions to fight against the Crime Firm to protect their right to livelihood, while they also tried to persecute others' livelihoods.

It was a small but fresh shock.

"And how were they able to pass the law?" Oliver asked.

"That's the good thing about Landa. This city is highly efficient. There is discrimination here but it is more flexible compared to the kingdom. They passed it because they thought it could increase the overall utility of the city. There was resistance but it was usual and wiped out… This is why people like me like Landa,"

Forrest said heartily. He seemed to genuinely appreciate Landa.

"Oh, we've arrived,"

Forrest said as they arrived in front of a door.

The door had a name tag with the name [Paul Carver] attached to it.

Forrest knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

"…come in," a voice responded from inside.

Oliver and Forrest opened the door and walked inside as the voice had instructed.

Inside, they saw a mountain of documents – on the desk, on the wheelbarrow, etc.

The papers were densely written with small letters, causing dizziness just by looking at them.

It was clear that the person who worked there was very busy.

"Hello?"

A man, hidden behind the pile of papers, stood up.

He looked familiar to Oliver, it was the same person who had appeared with soldiers armed with exoskeleton gloves and had explained before the start of the cleaning in the Contamination Zone.

He was also the same person who later arrested and questioned Oliver about Puppet.

He was sipping a lukewarm cup of cold coffee, flipping his brown hair back. He looked very tired.

"Hmm, ha……. I'm sorry to call the busy people here," he apologized.

City official Paul Carver spoke politely, without the overbearing attitude that Oliver had seen from him before.

Forrest also answered him politely.

"No, I fully understand. I’m grateful for city officials who work tirelessly for the prosperity of Landa. Please feel free to talk," Forrest said.

"I appreciate your consideration. Wait, shall we sit down and talk?"

Paul Carver asked, gesturing to a clean guest table.

As Forrest nodded and sat at the table, Carver contacted someone using a wired communication device.

"Three cups of coffee, please… Is there anyone who can't drink coffee?"

"No, there isn't," Forrest and Oliver replied.

Carver nodded and ordered the coffee.

"Thank you again for coming here. Mr. Forrest and Mr. Dave… As with Mr. Forrest, it’s my first time meeting you, but not with Mr. Dave, right?"

"Yes, you remembered," Oliver said.

"I'm impressed. I thought you weren't an ordinary person, but didn't expect you to gain so much reputation in such a short time. You've been a Solver for about a year, right?"

"Yes, I think it's almost a year," Oliver said.

"I know this field is a bit unusual, but still, it's great… Where did you learn?" Carver asked. But Forrest cut in,

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carver. If you don't mind, can we talk about work first? Since I have to get back to the restaurant quickly."

Paul Carver, who was interrupted by the question, didn't seem displeased, but rather slightly smiled.

"You're right. So let me get straight to the point. Do you know what's going on?" Paul Carver asked. Forrest and Oliver nodded.

"The prison was attacked and destroyed by brutal rebels," Forrest said.

"I'm ashamed to say that it's true. Willes… He was a great man who even served as Professor of Magic Tower, and he is not an ordinary criminal, so his thinking seems to be different. But disgrace is disgrace. Because of our incompetence, the innocent citizens are staying awake at night in fear,"

Paul Carver said, looking genuinely ashamed.

Oliver raised his eyebrows slightly. He could tell that Carver meant every word he said. It was in contrast to the intimidating attitude he had seen during the cleaning of the contamination zone and the hostility toward Paladins.

In a way, it was interesting. Carver was genuinely concerned about the citizens.

"I know. That's why our Brokers union is also cooperating," Forrest said.

"Everyone in the city is grateful for that," Paul Carver replied.

"So there must be questions going around your head. In the midst of this busyness, the city has something to request, why? Is there anything more important than catching an escaped prisoner who escaped prison?" Carver continued.

"That's true. There's nothing more urgent than putting out the fire in the house. But sometimes you have to do something else. Like you have to go to work even if your house is on fire,"

"What's going on?" Forrest asked,

"That's…"

– Kik

Paul Carver stopped talking as the door opened and a female employee in her twenties entered with a tray of coffee.

She handed out the coffee to Oliver, Forrest, and Carver with a slight smile.

"Please call me if you need anything," she said before leaving the room.

Carver took a sip of the steaming coffee and said,

"Drink it. It's pretty good. I bought good coffee beans because I had a lot of work to do."

Forrest drank the coffee as he was told to.

"It's really delicious. Where did you buy it? I want to use it for my restaurant," Forrest asked.

"Oh, come to think of it, Mr. Forrest runs a restaurant, right? In District T… Forrest Restaurant, right?" Carver said, showing that he was aware of Forrest's business.

"Thank you for noticing," Forrest said.

"Don't mention it… So, how much do you think these coffee beans will cost? Retail price. I heard that a good restaurant owner can say the price of ingredients with just a glance. Can you?" Carver asked suddenly.

Forrest didn't panic, instead, he stroked his chin and replied,

"I don't know. It should be about 51,000 per bag."

"Oh, that's pretty accurate. It's 52,000," Carver said.

Oliver admired it. It was safe to say he got it right if the difference was only 1,000.

"But outside Landa, it's 41,000," Carver said.

"That’s a big difference," Oliver said immediately, noting the price discrepancy.

All eyes turned to Oliver as he asked,

"Is there a reason?"

"….Yes, Landa is an autonomous city, so there is an additional tax rate on goods entering the city. It's called city tariffs, but it's actually a self-governing tax. So basically, prices over here are 15 to 20 percent higher," Carver explained.

"Every year we struggle with the Central Parliament over that," Forrest added, taking a sip of his coffee.

The United Kingdom seemed to impose a huge tax on Landa. Oliver didn't know much about taxes as he never paid them.

Forrest asked, "By the way, does this have to do with the job?"

"No, there is no direct relationship. But indirectly, yes. Do you know where Willes is now who made this mess?" Carver asked.

"No, I don't know," Forrest replied.

"It took us a while to figure out, but it was confirmed that he fled out of Landa," Carver said.

"Is that so? That's a natural choice," Forrest said.

"Yes, it's a natural choice. After all, with all this fuss, it's dangerous to stay in Landa. If he actually remained, I was going to release all the city's defense force and catch him," Carver said, his wrath towards Willes clearly visible.

"But it's strange," Carver said, looking confused.

"What do you mean?" Forrest asked, wanting to know more.

"It's funny to say this after getting hit, but it's the first time this has happened. We never expected a fugitive would breach the agreement and attack so openly," Carver said.

‘….??' Oliver tilted his head, not understanding what Carver meant.

Fortunately, Paul Carver kindly explained.

"Lots of fugitives hide in Landa. Sometimes Landa catches those guys. But in the meantime, there is an implied agreement between each other," Carver said.

"The city does a moderate level of search, and the fugitives do no harm to the city," Forrest added.

"That's right, Mr. Forrest. That's very true. It doesn't make sense, but it's possible in Landa. Because Landa has to function as a free city that embraces everyone within its limits, and the fugitives don't want to play with the city they're hiding in, whatever it is. It's an old promise made by overlapping interests," Carver said, trying to clarify.

"Then, it’s strange. Willes and his group, although they're rebels, they used Landa when they needed to, and they're doing this… Is it that important to save a colleague in prison? To the point where they burned the bushes that they can hide in case of emergency?"

Forrest asked, trying to understand the situation.

Carver's eyes glowed sharply and his hands clasped.

"You understand quickly. There are a lot of colleagues that Willes saved, but one of them is the most important. He is.."

"Is it magic hacker Hewitt?”

Oliver interrupted without realizing it.

Again, Carver and Forrest's eyes were on Oliver.

In particular, Paul Carver, a city official, showed interest beyond a simple surprise.

"Yes, that's right."

Carver took the coffee bag out of the drawer and placed it on the desk.

"And he might be able to lower the price of this coffee bean," Carver said, with a hint of a smile.

(To be Continued)

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