Chapter 704: The Uninvited Guest (5)
An overwhelming, decisive victory against Peshia Grisbern.
But Lennok knew this was a result of forcibly manipulating luck.
An unbelievably strong stroke of luck, hitting the jackpot more than ten times with every spin of the slot.
Rolling the Penteract-formed dice in one hand, Lennok fell deep in thought.
‘So far, it’s as I expected.’
The Penteract, received from Myeong, was an object that recognized its surroundings in real-time and metamorphosed in the most efficient direction.
That’s why Lennok had often thought about how to use the Penteract and experimented with it in various places.
Casinos were among the places where it was relatively easy to control the Penteract’s transformation direction.
‘Adjusting luck is difficult, but in a place with a clear purpose like a casino, it’s not impossible.’
Using the Penteract in a place where people blindly clung to gambling, probability, luck, and possibility almost certainly turned it into an item that adjusted fortune.
Lennok used this to forcibly manipulate his luck the moment he confronted Peshia, unleashing an absurd streak of good fortune to defeat Peshia’s character.
‘The problem is from now on.’
He had no intention of fleeing from Peshia, who was thoroughly enraged by her unreasonable defeat.
The obvious provocation he threw was precisely to keep her in this game and extract information.
The problem was that the item’s ability to adjust luck was, by its nature, close to a one-time use.
The luck amplified through the Penteract’s transformation was only for the first instance, and only applicable to simple machines like slot machines.
At this point, with the item’s effect exhausted, it was up to Lennok whether he could capture Peshia’s interest.
The game, which had restarted before his thoughts were even finished, ended.
CRASH!!
[2P WIN!!]
Contrary to before, it was Lennok’s defeat.
In the game restarted by Peshia’s insistence, Lennok kept losing to Peshia.
As he watched the points being settled after the game, Peshia leaned her head out from beside the machine.
“Hey, are you even trying?”
SWISH—!!
Her killer intent narrowly grazed Lennok, causing the customers standing behind him to foam at the mouth and faint.
“Gurgle…!!”
“…I’m out of points.”
Instead of responding again, Lennok subtly feigned retreat.
As it was, the points he had won from Peshia were all gone due to the continuous losses.
But Peshia, as if annoyed, scooped up a handful of brown chips and casually tossed them to Lennok.
CLINK!!
“Th-these are…!!”
She scattered chips, each worth over 5 million cells, without a care.
While other customers stared in shock, Peshia nodded at Lennok.
“Put them in. We’re going again.”
An overbearing attitude that permitted no refusal.
Lennok, who had been silently looking at the chips, slowly nodded.
‘I think I get it now.’
After a few initial plays, the experience he lacked was filled by competing against Peshia, and he began to understand why this game was so popular in Torquepaz.
While it seemed to be primarily about the element of luck in gambling, the reality was entirely different.
The spinning slots adjusted probabilities according to the situation, and those adjusted probabilities were designed to determine superiority based on judgment and psychological warfare.
Even though he was clearly inserting coins and touching the console, it felt as if he was engaging in direct combat with a superhuman right before his eyes.
That’s why he could understand why Peshia had been so enraged by her unfair first defeat.
‘This game was made for High-Hierarchy Superhumans from the start. No, rather…’
Should he say it was a game designed to let High-Hierarchy Superhumans experience ultra-high-speed combat?
The psychological warfare and strategic maneuvering that unfolded in superhuman combat were not confined to the realm of calculation or judgment.
It was about reading each other’s minds, sometimes even manipulating them, to turn even low probabilities into highly likely realities.
Peshia stared only at Lennok and spoke.
“If you half-ass it one more time, I’ll kill you. Got it?”
“…Fine.”
He understood that the essence of this game wasn’t just about luck or gambling.
If the gameplay itself had points in common with High-Hierarchy Superhuman combat, then Lennok also had something he could do.
Once matched, Lennok also manipulated the console in a completely different way than before.
BANG!!
CLATTERING!!
Attack and defense commands crossed at an incomparable speed, and the slots spun.
Even though the points displayed above their heads rapidly dwindled, the health of their characters barely decreased.
Dozens of attack opportunities were consumed and vanished, and a density of strategic maneuvering and judgments, far exceeding that number, cycled through.
The exchange of offense and defense was so intense that dozens of slots spun simultaneously around the character every time a command was entered.
CLATTERING!!
Slots emerged everywhere, calculating probabilities dozens of times and moving the character, to the point where the character itself was barely visible.
“Oh, ohh…”
“What in the world is this…!!”
Those watching from behind stared blankly, mouths agape, at the incessantly spinning slots.
Even the servers working throughout the casino stopped in their tracks, their expressions stunned, to watch the game.
Peshia smirked.
“I knew you could play properly after all.”
And then, suddenly, the movement of the character Peshia controlled drastically changed.
The character, who had been skillfully mixing attack and defense commands, began to spam attack commands, completely ignoring defense.
[Low. Low. Mid. Low. High. High.]
BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!
[Invalid. Cancel. Active. Active. Active. Active. Invalid.]
On top of the dozens of slots that had completely covered the screen, an equal number of slot judgments overlaid them once more.
The character he was controlling was completely invisible; only the judgments according to the commands spun in rapid succession.
He had to control the character and collide judgments based purely on memory and prediction.
“Oh, you’re keeping up?”
“…”
This sense of disconnect, where the slot judgments couldn’t keep up with the character’s manipulation.
This “veil of slots” that completely blocked the necessary screen and character display for operation.
Peshia had intentionally caused this, then continued the game by relying on her memory.
She likely remembered every command and judgment exchanged with Lennok up to that point.
She progressed the game by chaining predictions and commands to the unseen character’s movements.
The moment her opponent failed to keep up, even for a brief instant, they would unilaterally allow her attack commands.
But Lennok, knowing this, slammed commands into the game machine without a word.
[Active, Cancel, Invalid, Invalid, Invalid, Invalid, Invalid, Invalid.]
As if a key met a lock, every hit judgment turned invalid, and the game continued.
“Hahahaha!!”
Peshia, sitting across from him, let out a sharp laugh.
“Wh-what just happened?”
“Is the game machine broken, but they’re still playing…?”
“The slots are still spinning like that, how are they still playing?”
The expressions of those watching the two play turned blank, unable to comprehend the situation any further.
Conversely, those who understood how the game was progressing grew quieter and quieter.
“They’re insane. That’s…”
“Let’s watch a little longer, then flee immediately.”
“Agreed. We shouldn’t stay here long.”
“…”
CRACKLE!!
The strategic maneuvering, mixing attack and defense, ended, giving way to an all-out slugfest where they ignored the damage they took.
‘Is this the end?’
Lennok accurately remembered how many attack points he had consumed in this game.
Peshia, who was pummeling Lennok, must have undoubtedly been aware as well.
Whichever of them won, there would be no next round. This game was the last.
Even the spectators who couldn’t understand what was happening widened their eyes at the rapidly depleting health bars.
“Oh, ohh…!!”
Hundreds of slots and judgments spun on the screen.
Health rapidly dwindled, and grand music resounded.
The health of the two, who had maintained a state of equilibrium, simultaneously plummeted to their limits, until the very moment one side definitively tipped.
CRACKLE!!
The screens Lennok and Peshia were watching turned completely black.
“…”
The two of them stopped manipulating their consoles almost simultaneously.
People who had been quietly watching began to murmur.
“Wh-what… Is it really over?”
“Usually, when the game ends, it shows who won, right?”
“I don’t know… Maybe an event pops up after you dump this many points…”
Behind the murmuring people, the manager, who had rushed over breathlessly, bowed so deeply before the two that his waist seemed to fold.
“I-I am truly sorry!!”
“…”
“It seems the game machine stopped due to a playing memory overload. We’ll restore it immediately!!”
The screen hadn’t frozen due to some special event or hidden feature.
The game machine had simply crashed, unable to handle the strain, right before the two could determine a winner.
Only then did the spectators, understanding the situation, begin to throw chips at the manager with angry expressions.
“Are you serious, you crazy bastard!!”
“How do you manage a casino so badly that a new game machine crashes here?!”
“I’m so sorry…!!”
The manager had technicians he brought with him frantically begin to repair the machine.
Lennok set down the console he was holding, lifted his gaze, and chuckled.
“Was I mistaken?”
Lennok’s conjecture that it indirectly manifested the combat of high-level superhumans might have been a mistake, or perhaps it was just a bug exploiting a game machine malfunction.
Yet, Lennok was certain that the game he had just played with Peshia was real.
She was not a being that could be described as a mediocre superhuman or warrior.
She was a soldier who had not only attained transcendent Hierarchy and perfected self-modification, but had also found a new self and trained herself through countless battles beyond measure.
A being who had lived a life more dense and desperate than the combined time of everyone else in this casino.
SCRAPE!
Peshia, who had risen from her seat, ignored the manager and slowly walked toward Lennok.
Leaning against the machine with one hand, she silently looked down at Lennok.
“I have an excellent memory,” Peshia said.
“So whether it’s a good memory or a bad one, I never forget.”
“…”
“In that sense, the game we just played was very fun. I think I’ll keep thinking about it until I return to Torquepaz.”
She smiled, watching Lennok silently gaze at the screen, his console put down.
“As much as I’d like to decide this match by spending all the casino’s chips… I have things I need to do today.”
“Things to do?”
“Two days from now. Come back here at the same time and wait.”
Peshia slowly bent her head toward Lennok’s ear and whispered.
“Then, by my name, Peshia Grisbern, I’ll overlook the fact that you received treatment from Murphy.”
An entirely unexpected observation.
Before Lennok could respond, Peshia left the casino without an ounce of regret.
On the windy rooftop of a building, Lennok stood with the city’s glittering nightscape beneath his feet, looking at his phone.
Displayed on the screen was a crude online newspaper, lacking any proper formatting.
This site, purely for information dissemination, only covered the latest news from the underworld of the District 40s.
And among them, several articles caught Lennok’s eye in particularly large print.
[Massacre at a Bank on the Outskirts of District 47.]
“…”
Lennok silently scrolled through a few more articles with a somber gaze.
[Over 500 victims. Significant changes expected in the district’s organizational structure…]
[Over 300 deaths occurred within seconds of each other. Perpetrator presumed to be a High-Hierarchy Superhuman…]
[Contusions with no magical formulas involved. Field examiners hint at the presence of a transcendent physical ability user…]
[Among the victims witnessed at the scene, only the body of the arena manager has yet to be found…]
Lennok’s finger, which had been rapidly swiping through the screen, abruptly stopped.
Peshia Grisbern, the Ghost Princess of Deadrise, who enjoyed killing people, disappeared with only a single manager.
Could it be that she hadn’t simply visited the casino just to enjoy a game?
He had thought it was a momentary whim, but Peshia’s movements clearly had a purpose.
Davi, sensing Lennok’s intentions, quickly sifted through the database and brought up data.
[I pulled the manager’s personal information from the District 47 Office. His identity was suddenly created 10 years ago, and since then, he’s been residing in the District 40s.]
“He was probably from Deadrise.”
[…You mean those violent organisms?]
Lennok said that, recalling his last conversation with Peshia.
When Peshia said she would spare Lennok, she didn’t mention anything about his identity or skill.
Instead, she only spoke of Murphy, the vampire doctor who had examined Lennok, and said she would overlook that fact.
What could be discerned about Peshia from that fact?
‘Murphy had worked as a medical staff member for Deadrise, she said.’
Peshia hadn’t recognized Lennok as Van, or as Adamant Thunder, the great wizard.
She had, through some means, discovered that Lennok had been treated by Murphy and thought Lennok was from Deadrise, like herself.
Yet, instead of recruiting or welcoming Lennok, she had said she would “overlook it.” The reason why.
“Peshia has no intention of unifying the remaining Deadrise remnants in Vulcan,” Lennok murmured, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“From the start, she intended to kill all Deadrise-affiliated individuals remaining in the city.”
[….]
Lennok didn’t know why she was slaughtering her own Deadrise affiliates.
However, at this point, it was true that the Ghost Princess had a clear objective beyond just the satellite.
“Two days, then…”
Considering she told him to come back to the casino in two days, she must intend to finish everything within two days.
If so, Lennok also needed to come up with a different method, even if only to find the satellite factory.
“Davi.”
[System check complete. Surveillance system acquisition complete.]
WHOOSH!!
Close to midnight.
A star-studded night sky was brightly revealed above the rooftop, where cold winds lashed.
Lennok sat on the edge of the rooftop, slowly gazing at the constellations while drawing up his magic.
KIIING!!
As he forcibly accelerated his consciousness with magic, the night sky above Lennok’s head spun around him.
The stars in the night sky rotated in circles, an illusion as if countless rings of light overlapped and shone.
At its culmination, Lennok quietly called out someone’s name.
“Lapis.”
The answer came shortly after.
Amidst the swirling constellations, a calm, whispering voice resounded.
[…Evan?]
A communication method that used the constellations of the night sky to move the celestial sphere, contacting the Lighthouse Keeper’s Will-thought.
During the Hanghasa Labyrinth incident, Lennok had contacted Lapis using this method and was once summoned to the Northern Continent where the labyrinth was located.
Remembering what had happened then, Lennok had timed it right and attempted to contact Lapis directly via Will-thought.
“It’s been a while since the Cult’s Far Eastern branch.”
[It really is Evan. There are fewer than five people who know this method…]
The voice, which had hesitated as if momentarily flustered, soon brightened and called out to Lennok.
[I was worried since you hadn’t been in touch for so long. I only heard news occasionally through Evelyn… I’m glad you’re safe.]
“A lot has happened,” Lennok replied, then counter-questioned.
“Was the clean-up at the Far Eastern branch concluded well? There might have been problems from not recovering Amrita’s body.”
[Thanks to Evan’s help, it’s safely roaming beyond the sea. It has become the most covert and free pair of eyes.]
Lapis said.
[I recently finished constructing the fifth Lighthouse, and now it’s observing the Central Front.]
The Lighthouse’s power, which began observing the veil, triggered the dealings between Deadrise and Blaiver Magic Tower, leading to the current situation.
But conversely, if he borrowed the Lighthouse’s power, he could also ascertain how they intended to build the satellite.
Lennok had contacted Lapis precisely to use the Lighthouse to pinpoint the satellite factory’s location.
“I have something to ask of you regarding that matter,” Lennok said.
“Deadrise is constructing a satellite that illuminates the Central Front. I want to know its location. Can I borrow the Lighthouse?”
Lapis didn’t reply.
She merely remained silent, as if deep in thought.
Not long after, her transmission resounded, as if she had realized something.
[I see. So…]
“…”
[Evan. You don’t need to ask me. The Lighthouse wouldn’t even exist without your help.]
Lapis said softly.
[If I can repay your contributions thus far, I’d be glad to help.]
“…If you tell me the location, I’ll go myself,” Lennok said, slightly opening his eyes and drawing up his magic.
“I’ll explain the details once I get there.”
[Ah, but what you asked about the Lighthouse is impossible. Rather, I should have contacted you in advance.]
“…”
[I want to tell you directly. Would you open your mental barrier just a little?]
An unusually ominous response.
A sense of unease he hadn’t felt from the old Lapis, and a slightly changed way of speaking.
The moment Lennok silently withdrew his magic, allowing Lapis’s Will-thought to settle.
[My gaze. I’ll borrow it for a moment.]
A completely different landscape began to unfold before Lennok’s eyes.
SHIMMERING!!!
The surrounding scenery transformed from a midnight building rooftop into a vibrant flower field under a bright sky.
A beautiful vista spread across gently sloping hills.
Though only the scenery he was viewing had changed, the warm breeze felt as if it caressed Lennok’s very senses.
Lennok, belatedly realizing how Lapis was showing him this scene, was secretly impressed.
‘Is this the Lighthouse Keeper’s authority?’
An unreal Unique Ability that forcibly synchronized with the scenery Lennok was viewing, overlapping it with Lapis’s own location.
A Sight Synchronization so incredibly skilled that the Lapis he first met couldn’t have even imagined it.
The sensation was so powerful it felt as if he was truly standing in the middle of this flower field.
“…”
Lapis’s form was invisible despite the Sight Synchronization.
Lennok, after a moment of contemplation, slowly moved his Will-thought through the flower field.
As he glided through the vibrant hills, something began to appear beyond the flower field with every step.
Pure white, transparent crystals.
Names were engraved on the carefully crafted, elongated crystals.
Like tombstones erected to commemorate the deceased.
“…”
A graveyard of hundreds of transparent crystal tombstones, set among the flower field.
In its very center, a woman with flowing blue hair stood with her back turned.
Dressed in a pure white gown, holding a flower in her hand, she stood still.
The aura of life emanating from her was so faint it was hard to tell if she was even breathing.
“Lapis,” Lennok said, standing silently behind her and slowly calling her name.
Without turning to Lennok, Lapis quietly said.
“You asked to borrow the Lighthouse’s authority, but that’s impossible.”
“Why?”
At Lennok’s words, Lapis slowly turned her head and smiled.
“Because I’m not the owner of the fifth Lighthouse, Evan is.”
“…What?”