Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave? Chapter 272: Oliver?

Alaric stared. "Oliver? What the hell are you doing down here?"

Oliver stood quickly, shoving papers behind his back in a gesture that would have been comical if the situation weren’t so surreal. "I could ask you the sa thing!"

"We fell through," Alaric gestured vaguely upward. "So kind of trap door. What’s your excuse?"

"I was just..." Oliver’s eyes darted between Alaric and Caleb. "Exploring! Yeah. Exploring. Found this place by accident."

"Bullshit," Caleb said flatly, finally getting to his feet. His eyes were sharp despite the lazy appearance. "No one ’accidentally’ finds hidden underground rooms."

"I did! I was just wandering and—"

"Oliver." Alaric’s voice went cold. "What are you really doing here?"

Oliver’s mouth opened. Closed. His usual easy confidence was completely absent, replaced by the expression of soone caught in sothing they desperately didn’t want to explain.

"I..." He swallowed hard. "I’m just studying here. It’s quiet. No one to disturb ."

Alaric’s eyes narrowed. "Studying. In a hidden underground room that no one knows about."

"Yes! Exactly." Oliver’s smile was strained, forced. "I found it while exploring and thought it would be perfect for—"

"What are those papers?" Alaric interrupted, taking a step forward.

Oliver’s hand moved protectively over the scattered docunts. "Just... notes. Class materials."

"Class materials don’t make people look that terrified when they’re discovered."

"I’m not terrified, I’m just surprised—"

Caleb’s hand ignited. Before anyone could react, he launched a fireball directly at the table.

WHOOSH!

Oliver moved fast, dove to the side, the fireball missing him by inches and scorching the stone wall behind where he’d been standing.

The papers on the table caught fire.

"What the hell?!" Oliver shouted, scrambling away from the flas. "Are you insane?"

"What are you doing down here?" Caleb demanded, fire still crackling around his hands. "Real answer. Now."

"It’s nothing! Seriously, it’s just..." Oliver’s eyes darted between them, calculating escape routes. "You’re both overreacting!"

"Then why are you so desperate to hide it?" Alaric moved to flank Oliver from the other side, lightning beginning to crackle around his fingertips. "Tell what you’re really doing here, Oliver. Last chance."

Oliver’s expression shifted. The nervous, apologetic facade cracked slightly, revealing sothing harder beneath. "You need to leave. Both of you. Now."

"Not until you explain—"

"I said leave!" Oliver’s hands moved in a pattern Alaric didn’t recognize.

The shadows in the room moved. They lashed out like living tendrils.

Alaric barely dodged one, electricity surging instinctively to disperse it. Caleb incinerated another with a burst of fla.

"What the—!" Caleb’s eyes widened. "You’re not a standard mage!"

Oliver didn’t respond. He was already moving, his hands weaving more complex patterns. The essence lamps flickered wildly as he drew on sothing.

More shadow tendrils erupted from the walls, the floor, the ceiling.

Alaric cursed and activated Jolt Step, appearing behind Oliver, palm strike aid at disrupting his casting—

Oliver twisted with impossible reflexes, blocking the strike and countering with a blast of concussive force that sent Alaric stumbling backward.

"Stay down!" Oliver’s voice had lost all its usual friendliness. "I don’t want to hurt either of you!"

"Then stop attacking!" Caleb launched another fireball, forcing Oliver to dodge.

But Oliver was already casting again. The air around him distorted, reality bending slightly.

[Static Field!]

Alaric threw up his lightning do, disrupting whatever Oliver was trying to manifest.

The three of them faced each other in the flickering light, two against one, but Oliver clearly had abilities they hadn’t known about.

"I told you to leave!" Oliver’s hands were shaking now, fear, or exhaustion, or both. "Why can’t you just—"

Caleb didn’t wait for him to finish. His fist wreathed in fla, aiming for Oliver’s solar plexus.

Oliver’s hand shot up. A barrier materialized, deflecting the strike.

But Alaric was already moving from the other side.

[Lightning Bolt]

Aid not at Oliver but at his feet, disrupting his stance.

Oliver stumbled, his concentration breaking—

Caleb was there instantly, grabbing Oliver’s wrist, fire flaring, burning.

Oliver scread, jerking back, but Caleb held on. "Talk! Now!"

"I can’t!" Oliver’s voice was desperate. "They’ll kill if I—"

He cut himself off, realizing what he’d said.

Alaric appeared beside them, lightning crackling dangerously close to Oliver’s face. "Who will kill you? Who are you working for?"

Oliver’s eyes were wide, panicked. "Please. You don’t understand. If they find out I told anyone—"

"Then you should have stayed away from hidden rooms with incriminating docunts." Alaric’s voice was ice. "Talk. Or I let Caleb keep burning."

Caleb’s fire intensified slightly, making Oliver gasp in pain.

"Okay! Okay!" Oliver’s resistance crumbled. "I’ll tell you! Just, stop, please!"

Caleb didn’t release him, but the flas dimd.

Oliver took a shuddering breath. "I’m gathering information. For a group. I don’t know who they are exactly, I’ve never t them."

"What kind of information?" Alaric demanded.

"Student records. Faculty schedules. Academy layouts." Oliver’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Anything they ask for, I find it. That’s all. I’m just an information broker."

Alaric and Caleb exchanged glances.

"Who recruited you?" Alaric pressed.

"I don’t know! I swear! I never see anyone." Oliver was babbling now, terrified. "I needed the money, my family cut off, I couldn’t afford Academy fees, and they offered enough to cover everything and more. I just had to gather information. It seed harmless!"

"Information is never harmless," Alaric said coldly. "Who else is involved? How many others are working for this group?"

"I don’t know! They don’t tell anything! I’m just one person doing one job!"

Caleb’s fire flared again. "You’re lying."

"I’m not! I swear I’m not!" Tears were streaming down Oliver’s face now. "Please, I’m telling you everything I know! They never tell the bigger picture! I’m just a pawn!"

Alaric studied him, the genuine terror, the desperate honesty. Oliver was telling the truth. Or at least, the truth as he knew it.

Which ant he was exactly what he claid: a pawn.

Useful, but expendable.

Alaric made a decision.

"Let him go."

Caleb looked at him sharply. "What?"

"Let him go. He’s told us what he knows."

"He’s a spy! He’s been gathering information for—"

"For people we need to identify." Alaric’s eyes didn’t leave Oliver’s face. "And he’s going to help us do that."

Oliver blinked through his tears. "What?"

"You’re going to keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing," Alaric said quietly. "Gathering information. Following instructions. But now, you’re going to report everything to . Every instruction you receive. Every dead drop location. Everything."

"I can’t! They’ll know! They’ll kill !"

"And if you don’t cooperate with , I’ll report you to Academy security right now." Alaric’s voice was flat, emotionless. "So you have two choices: work with and maybe survive, or refuse and definitely face consequences. Choose."

Oliver stared at him, all pretense of friendship gone, seeing Alaric for what he really was.

"You’re not going to help ," Oliver whispered. "You’re just going to use ."

"Obviously." Alaric didn’t bother denying it. "But at least this way, you’re useful alive. That’s more than you can say about your current employers."

Silence stretched in the flickering lamplight.

Finally, Oliver’s shoulders sagged in defeat. "Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll report to you."

"Good." Alaric stepped back, lightning fading. "And Oliver? If you try to run, or warn them, or do anything other than exactly what I’ve told you, I’ll make sure everyone knows what you’ve been doing. Your reputation, your future, everything. Gone."

Oliver nodded mutely, cradling his burned wrist.

Caleb released him and stepped back as well, though his expression was skeptical. "You’re trusting him?"

"No. I’m controlling him. There’s a difference." Alaric turned toward the ladder.

As they climbed, Oliver’s voice called up weakly from below. "Alaric... we were friends. Weren’t we?"

Alaric paused on the ladder, looking down.

"No. You were useful company. I was soone who didn’t ask questions. That’s not friendship. That’s convenience."

He continued climbing.

Behind him, in the hidden room, Oliver sat alone among burned papers and flickering shadows.

And Alaric felt nothing about it.