Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Premium Fever! (3)
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1.
It was a far more lackluster fight than I'd feared.
Truth be told, it was an experiment to test just how effective Growth Acceleration really was...
"Not sure."
I'd unleashed Death Verdict without holding back, and the fight was over.
The guy who'd been dodging with evasive maneuvers went down just like that.
It felt like Death Verdict came out smoother and more freely than against Sunming.
Full 360-degree deployment was possible now, too.
"But how do mages even grow in the first place?"
I'd taken down eighteen 8th-ranks, so experience points or whatever? Nah, couldn't be that simple.
Since it's death-related, maybe you get stronger the more you die, like you've experienced it firsthand? Or the more you kill?
"At least my knowledge grew."
There were a few things I'd definitely learned from that last fight.
First, the death and mana form I envisioned needed some degree of similarity for maximum power.
For slashing, crescent-shaped mana like a sword stroke.
For projectiles, bullet-shaped mana.
To snap a neck, it had to coil around the target's throat.
Second, cover was its weakness.
Death Verdict manifested the "death" I imagined, no matter what.
It could slice through something like clothing if included in that image, but the battlefield itself was left almost untouched.
If we'd fought inside a warehouse full of cover, the outcome might've been different.
And finally, third.
"I'm Sedric. Unquestionably the king of 7th-ranks. Proof complete."
I had power incomparable to that pathetic level-up boost.
In this barbaric world where strength was everything, I now had the power to protect myself.
If I made efficient use of Growth Acceleration and learned magic from Ceres the hag...
By the end of this Premium Route, maybe even a 6th-rank fixer?
Worth aiming for.
First things first, though.
"Whew, dusty."
I thoroughly searched the filthy office interior.
Unlike Arbel's apartment, naturally scented by her presence, this bachelor pad crammed with guys reeked of stale air.
"Miss Arbel's sweet scent."
Arbel was probably snoring away, belly fully scratched by now.
Lucky girl.
The loot from my farming: five packs of cheap smokes, a ledger, 20,000 Bios in total, and two cans of synthetic oil.
"Nothing but scraps."
No helping it.
Outskirts fixer offices like this were prime raid targets, so they kept minimal supplies.
The only decent find was this burgundy leather long coat that fit me perfectly.
Uncomfortable and heavy to move in, but damn, it looked good.
"But where's the goods?! Should've left one alive!"
After flipping the sofa and even ripping up the floorboards.
Deep in the attic, I found it—something wrapped in paper.
Suspicious as hell at first glance.
"Up we go."
Peeling off the paper revealed a large glass jar filled with a brown ointment-like substance.
"So this is the Great British Empire's star export..."
About 10kg, give or take.
Popping the lid unleashed a sweet, herbal scent like boiled medicine straight up my nose.
"Should I skim half and sell it?"
F Sector black market or to addicts—could make for nice pocket change.
I pondered briefly.
But getting marked by an organization as an amateur fencing stolen goods? Total cliché death flag.
Besides, I still had stuff to squeeze out of Eiming.
"Next up, evidence disposal?"
I shoved the big jar into the bag I'd brought and poured office oil cans over the scattered corpses outside, then held a group funeral.
The lean-to bodies caught fire nicely amid acrid smoke.
The smell of roasting meat mixed with char was seriously nasty.
-Sizzle.
I lit a cigarette, then tossed in a pack of the cheap ones I'd farmed.
The cigarette pack shriveled black in seconds under the roaring flames.
"Whew. Reincarnate in bliss."
That was the absolute limit of mercy I could offer others.
Necropolis was a great place to live, after all.
2.
Back at Drunken Red Tower with the goods recovered.
Eiming's office was packed with organization members in all sorts of outfits.
Figured something fun was going down, so I approached.
"Mmph! Mrrrgh!!"
A naked guy was bound to a tarped chair.
"Slice this one, that one, feed 'em to the dogs. Heads go on the gambling den wall."
"Yes, sir!"
Eiming, impassively lighting a smoke, spotted me and broke into a huge grin as he approached.
"Rowen!"
"Brother! Got the goods."
"Already? That quick?"
"Told you—the drinks don't stay cold forever."
"Hahaha! Rowen, you're the real deal! A big one at that!"
"You know it. Back in my youth, I was a foreign-currency-earning hero."
I plunked down the heavy jar with a thud, flashing my teeth.
Eiming burst into boisterous laughter, like he'd never been scary at all.
"Kids, you carve that bastard yet?"
"Huh? Just got one arm done, sir."
"Let him go. No blood on a festive day."
"Yes, sir!"
The baffled grunts untied the captive.
"What'd he do to deserve that?"
"Caught bottom-dealing in my casino."
"Hmm, just slice him?"
"Should we? Kids! Slice him anyway!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Mrrghhh!!!"
Sent the cheating gambler off nicely, then reported the mission rundown while cleanup happened.
Eiming nodded along with a father's smile at his three-year-old being read a picture book.
"Now that I think, this your first time on org business?"
"Yes."
"Can't send my cute lil' bro empty-handed!"
"For real, brother?!"
"Yeah! Follow me!"
I love this guanxi culture.
No need to refuse gifts.
The gift itself boosts Eiming's face while acknowledging me as one of his own.
Refusing it would be rude; I just react tastily.
Eiming led me to a room with a massive safe.
Safe? More like a whole room itself.
"Rowen. This is real treasure. Even I only got one."
For real?
Heart pounding since the warehouse-to-vault trip.
Such a cakewalk quest for something that rare?
Damn, Eiming's growing on me.
In Necropolis, corpse-dressing (the latest trend), no bothering neighbors, crossdressing and women's clothes collecting—pretty wholesome hobby, right?
"B-brother."
"Open it. Safe to check here."
Eiming handed me a Bible-sized wooden box.
I cracked it open, expectations maxed.
Inside was...
"What... is this?"
"Golden Carp Clan's forbidden jade leaf: inner panties from young lady Ri Singpei."
A pair of panties woven from gossamer silk.
"Whaddya think? Took serious work to get."
"......"
...Fuck, this asshole's for real...
I stared at the bashfully smiling Eiming.
"What? Don't like it?"
But this was Eiming's gift to his bro.
Showing displeasure would smear shit on his face.
Fuck...
This is why I fucking hate guanxi culture.
Primitive trash like dealing with maggots.
But that's that.
"Sniiiiiffffff!!!!!!"
I buried my nose right in the panties.
"Whoa! Brother! Peony blossom scent!"
"Right?!"
"No gift in my life will top this!"
"Right?!?!"
Smelled good—high-end fabric softener, probably.
Size up, dress Arbel in 'em later.
3.
That night.
"Didn't I say not to come unless it's absolutely necessary?"
Ceres greeted me with clear displeasure.
I'd loosened her rules just yesterday, but hag mode again today.
Eh, I preferred this version anyway. Hadn't she said she wanted to loosen up?
Expected Ines mode at home, though.
"It is absolutely necessary."
"What is it?"
"Missed you."
-Snap!
"Ow!"
Paid the knuckle sandwich toll and got inside.
Yeah, I knew.
Better minimize contact with Ceres; if Eiming caught wind of these meetups, I'd be the one in danger.
But this round was premised on death-and-reset.
Gave up on saving Arbel in one go.
If caught, just die once. Whatever.
Not like I came to Ceres without a plan, though.
"Other magic besides Death Verdict?"
"Yeah."
That was the real goal.
In this Premium Route, I had three lives—20 days each.
Could burn two more with leftover scapegoat talismans if needed.
Label 'em new Round 1, Round 2, etc.
I'd decided to invest this full Round 1 in pure training.
Whatever I did next, strengthening Sedric was essential to survive this shithole, right?
Target: roughly 6th-rank fixer.
"Mastered Death Verdict? Rushing makes you trip. No arrogance—focus on basics."
"Not arrogance. Already used it in real combat twice."
"Real combat?"
Ceres raised an eyebrow and led me to the workshop.
"Show me."
"Will deploy aiming for Ceres's praise."
"Saying that makes me wanna withhold it."
-Swoosh.
Gave Masquerade a show of Sedric's ultimate: Death Verdict barrage.
Dozens of sharp lines whipped through the room.
The mannequin summoned as a sandbag shredded into ragged chunks, rolling across the floor.
"...How's that?"
Ceres's reaction wasn't shock, praise, or "You're a prodigy!"
"Ahahaha!"
"Hag?"
She laughed so hard her neat teeth showed, then wiped teary eyes.
"Sorry, sorry. Living long, and I see something this funny."
Startled me.
First time seeing her laugh that hard.
"Death Verdict can be used like that?"
"Isn't that standard?"
"No. If you could do that, you'd be 1st Rank or higher—no need for 0th Rank magic."
Mages got no romance.
How do you even hold back a move this badass?
"Last time, your imagery was great, but technique was crude. Now it meshes well. Still lacks precision compared to your imagery's depth."
She smiled, satisfied.
"How much practice?"
"Real combat's the best practice."
Answered Ceres straight...
"...Only twice?"
Laughter gone.
"Can't practice without targets, y'know."
No?
Don't tell me default's practicing on vagrants?
Still not adapted to Necropolis? Spitting out normie vibes?
Ceres nodded after a pause.
"Fine, whatever. You're used to it now. Today, I'll teach other death forms."
"Already tried that."
"What?"
"Like this?"
Fired bullet-shaped mana at the regenerating mannequin.
-Bam!
It exploded back down, twitching.
"This too."
Followed with orb-shaped mana.
-Splat!
The just-rising mannequin burst like a stomped bug.
Eyes narrowed, Ceres asked.
"Other forms too?"
"Can, but..."
"You can?"
"Yeah, but power's weak. Why's that?"
Tried neck-snapping on the tough bastard reviving again.
All deaths I'd experienced worked fine on others.
This one uniquely sucked, so I wanted advice...
-CrackcrackCRUNCH!
"Huh?"
Nailed it this time.
Neck spun 290 degrees—instant death for any human.
Stunned, I sought hag wisdom.
"Why'd it suddenly work?"
"Why ask me?"
"Didn't before."
Growth Acceleration?
All proficiency gain +500% meant this?
Kuh...! That's it!
Yes! Free genius necromancer Sedric!
This genre's what I wanted!
"Ceres. Praise and pets, please."
Shrugged cockily.
"Look at me a sec?"
Ceres suddenly rummaged through my clothes.
"Ceres, shower first? Sweaty here."
Our hag Ceres!
When'd you get so bold?
"Quiet."
After groping me thoroughly, Ceres let out a hollow laugh.
"It's there."
"What?"
"Engraved. The brand."
Brand?