Chapter 1138: Showdown (9)

“Spellcraft and the physical body are as inseparable to a spellcaster as their very soul.”

“Ughhh!”

“A decline in spellcraft performance was an expected outcome the moment the body was transferred, but this is beyond what I anticipated.”

In the dim operating room, The Clown writhed and screamed. Standing before the operating table, a man with an indifferent expression cut and reassembled his entire body. With a slicing, reassembling sound, the man joining The Clown’s body spoke in a languid tone.

“The output of the Conjunction Spellcraft has fallen by nearly 80% compared to before. I hardly need to explain how abysmal this performance is.”

“No, I mean, be gentle—”

“To summarize, the surgery’s inability to proceed smoothly was an inevitable result.”

Whirring— He mercilessly split and rejoined The Clown’s body, who continued to shriek. Blood splattered repeatedly onto the operating table, but the man merely focused his mana without even blinking.

The familiar mana pattern unfolding from the man’s fingertips. The presence of ‘Conjunction Spellcraft’ that he explicitly mentioned and wielded. Observing and hearing all of that, Lennok narrowed his eyes behind his mask.

“…No way.”

Lennok remembered who the man operating on The Clown was. A member of Pandemonium who fought Lennok over the floating island clusters in the Pilenom Autonomous Region. The continent’s biggest drug lord, known by the alias Juice Master, Dominic Cavaro. What could it mean that this man, who had been defeated by Lennok and gone missing, was now using Conjunction Spellcraft to operate on The Clown?

“…”

Even with the inexplicable scene before him, Lennok calmly organized his thoughts. The Clown’s reason for being at the auction house. The reappearance of Dominic Cavaro, who had been missing for a long time. Even the existence of the unique Conjunction Spellcraft, which should belong to the Conjunction Spell Master, Avesta Chapman. Dismissing all impossible hypotheses and retaining only the plausible conclusions, Lennok finally understood the situation.

‘Did they… transplant the Conjunction Spell Master’s right brain into Dominic Cavaro’s body?’

Avesta Chapman, the Conjunction Spell Master whom Lennok defeated at the First Gate, had himself extracted his own right brain. That was why the Conjunction Spell Master could not use his Root Mindscape, including his Domain [자성영역], at all during his fight with Lennok. Even bearing such a penalty, the Spell Master’s skill was remarkable among all the spellcasters Lennok had faced, enough to match him evenly until the very end.

Lennok, too, had not forgotten that the Spell Master’s right brain was clearly stored somewhere separately. But he had never imagined that Pandemonium, not the Order Alliance, would be keeping his right brain. Was there some unknown connection between the Order Alliance and Pandemonium that Lennok was unaware of? Or had someone among the Pandemonium members secretly contacted the Alliance and stolen the Spell Master’s right brain? Either way, the very act of reviving him by transplanting him into the drug lord’s body far exceeded the scope of ordinary human thought.

The Conjunction Spell Master concentrated on the surgery, and The Clown writhed on the operating table, letting out exaggerated screams.

“You seem to know about the doctor performing the surgery. Is it because he’s a member of the same organization?”

As Lennok, speechless, watched the bizarre spectacle unfolding below, a man approached him from the side. A dignified-looking man with a mustache. He was the Syndicate associate who had invited Lennok to this auction.

“He was brought here a few weeks ago, and until then, he was a vegetable, unable to move a single fingertip.”

“…”

“He only regained consciousness after receiving the Mastermind’s adjustment, and he turned out to be a very peculiar individual, unexpectedly.”

“…Mind adjustment, huh.”

They borrowed the Mastermind’s ability in Torquepaz to adjust the Conjunction Spell Master, whose right brain was transplanted into Dominic Cavaro’s body. And The Clown had entrusted himself to the Syndicate to have the now-conscious Conjunction Spell Master perform his surgery? And the fact that this man knew such inside information to that extent—

“My apologies for the late introduction. I am Raymond.”

The man standing beside Lennok smiled and tapped his cane.

“As the ‘Manager’ of the Syndicate, I am responsible for protecting all underground facilities within Torquepaz.”

“…”

He moved this vast office with only his psychokinesis, yet he showed no sign of effort. Truly a psychokinetic capable of freely manipulating tens of tons of weight with pure mental power. Regardless of his seemingly impaired mobility, the output of his superpower was truly immense. It was no coincidence that he was in charge of protecting the auction house and other facilities and organizations under the Syndicate.

But even knowing that, Lennok was pondering something else.

‘The Clown knew that the Conjunction Spell Master was receiving treatment in Torquepaz.’

Lennok’s gaze deepened as he looked at The Clown, who was writhing comically.

‘It’s certain that Pandemonium cooperated in the Spell Master’s revival. But what about the Order Alliance?’

The Conjunction Spell Master extracted his own right brain to acquire the immortality ability of Mikal Zelih, a superhuman from the Ability Awakening Warband. It was an undeniable fact that the extracted right brain must have been in the Alliance’s possession. However, the moment the Spell Master’s right brain was transplanted into the drug lord’s body, it was clear that there was some sort of agreement between the Alliance and Pandemonium. What was Pandemonium aiming for by reviving the Spell Master? Why did they provide the drug lord’s body as the Spell Master’s ‘vessel’? Would the Conjunction Spell Master’s right brain, awakened in a new body, be the same person as the left brain Lennok remembered?

“You seem to be deep in thought.”

Raymond raised a hand, looking at Lennok.

“Why don’t we sit down and play a card game?”

“…A game?”

By now, he held a deck of cards used for games. Shuffling the cards skillfully, he showed their faces and offered a gentle smile.

“There’s still some time before the auction begins. Indulge me for a moment.”

“If you want to play, you’d better find another opponent.”

“Of course, I’m not asking you to play without any reason.”

Despite Lennok’s sharp reply, Raymond smiled and stroked his mustache.

“We’ll have to wait for him until the surgery is over. In the meantime, how about we bet on the whereabouts of an item put up for auction here?”

“…An item?”

“Indeed. For example—”

Raymond gestured towards the office wall as he spoke.

“—the ‘weapon’ left behind by an Apostle of the cult.”

Flash!

At that moment, a pale glow shone through the screen on the office wall. A pale, luminous barrel stood obliquely inside a container, presumably an underground vault. Its appearance was twisted like an elongated screw, a sleek form with no visible supports.

Forbidden Armament ‘Sorrow’. A forbidden weapon crafted from human sacrifice. A weapon of depravity made by grinding down high-level superhumans. A lamentable relic, effectively alive, retaining all the abilities of the superhuman used as its material.

“It was buried in the stadium ruins, which had become the site of the decisive battle. Workers discovered it during the reconstruction efforts.”

Raymond spoke beside the silent Lennok.

“Eight workers have already died, fighting among themselves after being captivated by it. Doesn’t it perfectly fit the name ‘forbidden weapon’?”

“…”

The cult’s Forbidden Armament, which the 8th Apostle Camlodal had summoned in his final moments. Had it remained, not disappearing even after a direct clash with Lennok’s gauntlet? It was a recovery Lennok himself had thought unlikely, having fled immediately after the decisive battle. But the Syndicate, taking charge of the stadium’s reconstruction, had succeeded in scouring the site and finding this weapon.

“What do you want?”

“A high-ranking Apostle of the cult wouldn’t retreat and leave behind such a treasure.”

Raymond chuckled at Lennok’s cold remark.

“That weapon, in other words, is decisive proof that the cult lost this battle. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“…”

“Don’t overthink it. I merely wish to sit across from a spellcaster like you and play a simple game.”

Raymond used psychokinesis to neatly place a stack of cards on the office table.

“If you win the game, I will, as the auction house manager, tell you the location where the Forbidden Armament is stored.”

“…”

“How you will ‘recover’ that weapon is something you can decide afterwards.”

Lennok, too, knew the value of that pale cannon without needing an explanation. It was a decisive means, wielded by an 8th Apostle of keen intellect and judgment, in a moment of desperate crisis. It must undoubtedly be a treasure capable of instantly overturning or changing the tide of battle. The Syndicate’s response, putting such a weapon up for auction instead of using it after acquiring it, was absurd enough. But Raymond’s attitude of simply telling him the Forbidden Armament’s location and letting him take it was equally incomprehensible.

“As the auction house manager, releasing an item without bidding is not permitted.”

Raymond smiled and tapped his cane.

“However, it’s unavoidable if an item is stolen due to an unfortunate accident. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“…Typical of a Torquepaz Manager, obsessing over such a meaningless gamble.”

There was no need to locate the Forbidden Armament through a gamble, but with The Clown and the Conjunction Spell Master undergoing surgery, causing a disturbance was difficult.

Scrape!

Lennok pulled a chair to the table without hesitation and said coldly.

“I’ll indulge you this once.”

“Excellent.”

As Raymond moved his hand, dozens of cards arranged themselves face-down in a row on the table. Pointing to the neatly arranged cards, their backs showing, he said.

“The rules are simple. We each draw one card and then, at the end, we’ll flip them all over to reveal our hands.”

“…”

“The loser is whoever holds the Joker at the end, or whoever is caught using spellcraft or a superpower.”

The rules were extremely simplified, like a game of ‘Go Fish’ or ‘Old Maid’, hardly a proper game. But as soon as Lennok heard the words, he understood Raymond’s true intention. From the outset, what Raymond was testing Lennok for was—

“Let’s begin. You can go first if you wish.”

Lennok drew a card from the pile and placed it in front of him. Raymond also drew a card and set it aside without checking its face. The two men alternately drew and divided cards in the middle of the office.

“It’s impossible to know the face of a card by looking at its back.”

Behind the rustling sound of cards, Raymond began to speak. He naturally drew a card, placed it down, and leaned back in his chair.

“It is equally difficult to see the other side by looking at just one aspect.”

“…”

“If such a person existed, they would never lose even this simple game.”

Raymond’s voice subtly changed.

“Not only in games, but in their life as well.”

“You keep saying useless things.”

Lennok, tucking the drawn card into his hand, retorted. Lennok, giving Raymond a chilling glance from behind his mask, said.

“Do you think I haven’t understood the rules of the game yet?”

“Indeed. You still know nothing.”

Raymond’s eyes deepened as he stroked the back of a card.

“It’s certain that the reason Freya Carlins’s world tour was so ambiguously ruined doesn’t lie in this city.”

“…”

“But if you intend to cause trouble in Kabahim, it won’t be easy with your current methods.”

Raymond, quickly glancing at his hand, spoke.

“The ruler of Kabahim is like a demigod within his own royal palace. To face such distorted transcendence, more thorough preparation will be required.”

“What nonsense are you trying to spout?”

As Lennok retorted, drawing another card, he inadvertently paused.

“…”

He had simultaneously realized through mana sensing that the card he just drew had a bizarre clown drawn on it. As the silent Lennok slowly pushed the Joker card back into the deck, Raymond asked.

“What if there were a being who could see both the front and back of a card at the same time?”

Raymond leaned back leisurely in his chair.

“If such a talented being existed, they would never lose this game. They could simply see the Joker in advance and avoid drawing it.”

“…”

“That man’s fate was similar. Born a bastard, he saw both sides of fate, survived to ascend the throne, and—”

Whoosh!

Raymond, laying down his hand as he drew the last card, said.

“—only upon becoming the ruler of Kabahim could he truly comprehend his ‘Talent for Duality’.”

“…”

Talent for Duality. Lennok also knew exactly what that talent meant. The ability to observe two concepts simultaneously in one spacetime. The talent to see both the front and back of a single phenomenon, to see what others could not. Because of this, individuals with the Talent for Duality feel all sensations twice over, and their personality can even split into two. Hylaea, Pandemonium’s broker, also possessed such conditions and symptoms related to the Talent for Duality. Did this mean that the ruler of Kabahim also possessed this rare talent, which Lennok had only actually seen in one other person?

By now, both men had drawn and divided all the remaining cards. It was time to flip the cards over and check the faces of their hands.

“When you arrive in the Royal Capital, you will inevitably confront him in some form.”

Raymond slowly flipped over the card in his hand.

“And you will have to allow him to see your ‘other side’.”

“…”

“You’ll have to hide, deceive, or erase it. For he will never tolerate you concealing anything.”

Raymond’s expression momentarily clouded over as he looked at the back of the card.

“He bore the blessings and curses of the entire Royal Capital in that manner, synchronizing himself with that spacetime.”

“You speak as if you know the ruler of Kabahim well.”

Lennok slowly flipped over his cards as he spoke.

“Was he an acquaintance?”

“…Acquaintance?”

At that moment, Raymond burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. As if the very designation was too ludicrous to bear.

“If you are referring to the one who was his mentor, then perhaps you could call it that.”

“…”

“Make sure you remember my warning and prepare for it.”

Raymond gestured towards Lennok’s hand as he spoke.

“If you cannot hide your Joker in front of that man, as you did just now, then you and your companions will face only one outcome.”

“You’re mistaken. They are not my companions.”

Lennok said, flipping over all his cards.

“And it’s preposterous to assume my secrets from a mere card game like this.”

“…What did you say?”

At that moment, Raymond realized there was no Joker in Lennok’s hand. The moment Raymond, as if mesmerized, flipped over his remaining cards. Seeing the Joker card mixed in his own hand, Raymond gaped.

“How… did you completely ignore my ability from the beginning?”

Raymond, a high-level psychokinetic, was a type of superhuman with an exceptionally developed brainwave. He had reached a state where he could perfectly read the vibrations and movements of all objects within the office. Naturally, he had known all the card movements and types throughout the card game with Lennok. He even knew that Lennok had drawn the Joker and where in his hand it was located. Yet, the moment the cards were revealed, the Joker was in Raymond’s hand. Had Lennok tricked him and switched cards, or had he ‘manipulated’ the cards’ faces?

Lennok, ignoring Raymond, stood up from his seat.

“If fate had only two faces, I wouldn’t even be standing here in the first place.”

“…”

“Even if one can see both sides of a card, there are infinite variables and exceptions, just like in this game.”

Lennok murmured, looking down at the auction house below.

“One can only truly know what will happen by seeing it for themselves.”

“Indeed…”

Raymond closed his eyes.

“Did you have a method from the start?”

“I won the game. As promised, tell me the location of the Forbidden Armament.”

Lennok said, turning his gaze.

“It seems the surgery is almost finished.”

“Once the sutures and disinfection are done, it will be complete.”

At that moment, the Conjunction Spell Master, who had been reassembling The Clown’s body in front of the operating table, spoke. He flipped up The Clown’s drooping eyelids, whose tongue hung out, then slowly raised his gaze.

“Then, it’s time to greet the guest who came looking for me.”

“…”

As if his unique, transcendent sensory perception had not vanished even with his body changed. The moment the Conjunction Spell Master raised his head and met Lennok’s gaze across the office.

“It’s a strange feeling. Suddenly, my head seems to ache in an odd way.”

The Spell Master looked at Lennok, a hollow smile on his face.

“Have we, perhaps, met somewhere before?”