Black (3)
After the unexpected encounter at the restaurant came to an end, my head was still crammed full of worries as we made our way toward the Eastern Mountains. Obviously, I had zero intention of accepting the cultists’ scouting offer. From my previous life’s perspective, both the Academy and those fanatics were packs of lunatics where claiming a clear advantage for either side felt pointless. Still, at least the Academy operated openly beneath the sun—though whether a country that considered that “open” was doing fine was another question entirely. In any case, unlike the Academy, a legitimate public institution, those people were nothing more than a shady cult.
If I had truly lost everything from the ground up and been branded an enemy of the empire with nowhere left to turn, the story might be different. But with the various foundations I had already built, there was no reason whatsoever to be tempted. What actually bothered me was the fact that they had made the offer at all.
The cultists I remembered were an extremely closed-off group. They carried a nasty chosen-people ideology that treated anyone outside their circle as nothing more than sacrificial material. Yet they offered to scout me? They were worried about the safety of a mere civilian who should have been just another offering in their eyes? And as if that weren’t enough, they handed over a clearly valuable magic tool?
I knew it was ridiculous to search for logic or common sense in a madman’s behavior. Even so, simply writing it off as “because he’s crazy” felt insufficient. Had I appeared so desirable that they were willing to revise their grudges and chosen-people doctrine for my sake? It was embarrassing to admit, but my abilities weren’t nearly that impressive—whether in combat strength, financial power, or social standing.
That left only one conclusion. The person called Alcor was an anomaly. And not just any anomaly, but an exceptionally capable one. From what I had already confirmed, she possessed mental interference, an outstanding level of White Light, and even the ability to borrow another person’s body to hold a conversation.
And quite coincidentally, the original work featured a template with similar traits—though not quite as overwhelmingly powerful. In other words, a player character candidate.
The Scheming Saint.
Thanks to the high correction applied to White Light-related skills, the character performed brilliantly even when raised as a traditional priest. But that was not where the Saint’s true worth lay. The massive bonus it received when conducting any form of “negotiation” with intelligent beings—whether recruiting allies, persuading merchants, or bluffing in battle—was what truly mattered.
The bonus was so powerful that routes existed where opponents would lay down their weapons in situations where every other protagonist had no choice but to fight. There were even special characters that could only be recruited by the Scheming Saint.
It was also beloved by players who enjoyed bizarre concept runs: “Eight-Legged Octopus Romance,” “Becoming a Cult Leader,” “Infiltrating a Hostile Organization and Setting the Executives Against One Another,” and other absurd challenges. Of course, it wasn’t without flaws. Its combat power fell far short of candidates like the Demon, the Heir, or the Barbarian. And true to its bleak background setting, it suffered reverse correction on luck, making item farming a nightmare.
In that sense, it was similar yet the complete opposite of the support-oriented Greedy Libertine.
Unlike the other two masterminds, whose overall flow remained largely consistent with the original despite some deviations, the cultists’ unpredictable level of change could be convincingly explained if a player character had joined their side.
Well, there was no system window to confirm it, and even if my guess was correct, nothing about my situation would change. No matter how enthusiastically I collected powerful party members as both a hobby and a practical advantage, I could never recruit that one.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“Huh? You were still here?”
“I’ve been here the whole time! That’s too much, you bad Chrome!”
“Can you please do something about that nickname already?”
“That’s too much, ChromeChrome!”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“The word ‘Chrome’ itself carries meanings like wicked, vile, cruel, and false, so I figured just repeating it would work.”
“......”
I lacked the physical strength to overpower her, and if I tried to fight with words I would only be dragged down to her level. She truly was a terrifying opponent.
“But why are you following me?”
“I’m not following you. It’s just that on the path I’m taking, Chrome happens to be there.”
I silently turned right. Joy stuck right to me. I stepped into an alley barely wide enough for one person. Joy stuck right to me. I flagged down a carriage and climbed aboard. When I looked out the window, Joy was floating alongside it in midair.
Well, damn. So on the path Joy is taking, I just happen to be there.
“Stop messing around and tell me why you’re following me. If you don’t—”
“If I don’t? You’ll use force to shake me off?”
Joy puffed out her chest with a smug little “Hmph.” She clearly believed she could handle me effortlessly if I tried anything.
I answered calmly.
“I’ll mobilize every ability I possess so that dozens of people gulp audibly and stare at you with desperate, longing eyes every single time you eat a meal.”
“......”
Joy looked at me with an expression that asked whether I was truly human. Perhaps the sheer peacefulness of the threat had moved her. After muttering curses under her breath and grumbling for a moment, she shook her head and finally spoke.
“That thing you said back then… were you serious?”
“About what?”
“What you told the gravekeeper. That you won’t necessarily treat someone as an enemy even if they’re a demon.”
“Of course I was serious.”
“Why? Aren’t demons humanity’s enemy?”
My head wasn’t naïve enough to tilt in confusion at the question. Several possibilities immediately came to mind, but I decided to keep them as thoughts for now. There was no benefit in digging deeper.
I looked at Joy with a perfectly serious expression.
“Joy.”
“Yeah?”
“Emotions aren’t free.”
“...Huh?”
“Why should I waste energy burning with hatred and passion toward people I don’t even know? I already have more than enough to do—I’m practically dying from how busy I am. Is there any valid reason I should?”
“Well, what about racial differences or historical conflicts or—”
“Don’t let yourself be swayed by the propaganda of those in power! Fight back! Reclaim your own subjectivity! Being moved by slogans like ‘The nation calls upon you’ won’t leave you with anything worth having!”
It was the kind of statement that could cause all sorts of trouble if it spread, but fortunately no one was around to hear it.
Joy still looked thoroughly confused, but she eventually nodded as if she had more or less accepted my answer.
“So you don’t hate them, right? Thanks for telling me! I’ll be going now!”
“Wait, hey—!”
Having received the answer she wanted, Joy gave a quick farewell and shot straight into the sky with a sharp whoosh. To resolve only her own questions and then leave without another word—what a girl with absolutely no sense of common decency.
I stared at the spot where she had vanished for a moment, scratched my head, and resumed walking. Somehow I had the feeling we would meet again soon.
At last we reached the Eastern Mountains. Chrome, who had thoughtfully picked up local specialties for his friends who had suffered through wandering the remote mountain regions, greeted them warmly.
“Hey kids! I’m ba—”
“That bastard’s here!”
“Everyone grab him! Tie his arms and legs first!”
“I apologize, Duke Chrome!”
“The anesthetic takes priority! Make sure he can’t move his tongue!”
“Wait, what are you—mmph!”
The miraculous combination attack of Crow’s twin blades, Pino’s arrows, Rabaul’s grappling technique, and Eagle’s wind spell came rushing in all at once.
Had this been a peerless protagonist from a novel, he would have dismantled each technique one by one and subdued his friends in a spectacular display. Unfortunately, Chrome was at best a 2.5-tier nobody and possessed no such ability.
Do some work, you mysterious stone. Isn’t this exactly when you’re supposed to awaken and help me? If he had harbored any such expectations toward the mysterious stone, the sheer absurdity would have made him lose his mind as his thoughts spun rapidly.
Could Alcor have arrived first during the short time it took to get here and launched a mental attack? Or perhaps one of the unique creatures of the Black Mountains was a giant mushroom that released spores capable of driving people into a frenzy.
“Snap out of it! It looks like you’ve all been hit by some kind of mental attack. If you steel your will, you can regain your senses—”
Pino looked down at him with eyes as cold as ice.
“We’ve been fighting magic beasts that attack from every possible direction—ground, sky, everywhere—while the abnormal mana fluctuations make the weather swing wildly between freezing cold, blistering heat, rain, wind, and even snow. Meanwhile our two greatest combat assets are competing with each other, grinding their teeth over who killed more, and the client who also happens to be the Eastern Legion Commander not only fails to stop them but joins in the chaos and provokes them further. This is a horrific environment.”
Chrome finally looked around. The people surrounding him were far too grimy and exhausted to blame merely on the aftermath of battle. They stared at him with hollow eyes.
“...I heard you were the one who first proposed this request…?”
Chrome remained silent.
A moment later he tried again.
“I-It was for the empire! An unavoidable sacrifice in the fight against the wicked demons’ pawn, Ivestan—”
“Stomp him!”
“Kill him!”
“Your neck would look excellent mounted on a pike, sir!”
It was truly karmic retribution.