Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Black Rose's Whisper
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The skin pressed against his cheek carried an elegant rose fragrance.
It was the profound dignity of thousands of roses in full bloom.
Lushly blooming black roses.
Their flower language: 'You are mine forever.'
Twisted desire tightly embraced the blessed body.
Along with an expression of utter, uncontainable delight.
They say crows have a habit of collecting shiny things.
For Michelle, this moment might just be that.
"Haa."
The instant her excited breath grazed his nape.
Jin thought the same time.
Is this a standing guillotine?
Avoid ground fights if possible?
Jin knew at least a dozen choke techniques that could follow from this position. Judging the situation dangerous, he threw his upper body back with all his might, shaking off Michelle wrapped around his neck.
"Hway!"
Normally, he'd have kicked her squarely in the chest to create distance right there. But not this time.
Her reaction was far too lukewarm for such a fiery counter.
She detached far more easily than expected, almost like she had no will to fight from the start.
Jin tilted his head.
Still staring at his unmoving opponent rooted in place.
"Not coming at me?"
Michelle responded with a subtle smile.
At a glance, it seemed merely beautiful. But looking closer, the corners of her mouth trembled faintly, as if struggling to endure something unstable.
Even empty words wouldn't call it normal.
"What is it. Why are you just standing there."
"Wasn't that a hug just now?"
"Some invisible mind game going on?"
The spectators were tilting their heads in confusion; Jin facing her directly felt it even more.
Claps don't make sound without two hands.
No way to muster energy against an opponent like that.
His brow furrowed naturally.
"Jin Evernight."
Finally, Michelle spoke.
Adding the rest with clear pronunciation.
"You are beautiful."
"...What?"
"Different again from that time. When did you ascend to the second world? Were you happy about it? Just how far do you plan to go?"
Michelle's tone was as dark and sparkling as her eyes.
"Boundless potential, a paradoxical existence itself. Yes, now I can be certain. That you've received mana’s blessing."
The maskless plague doctor said it with a silent laugh.
"You have the qualifications. To usher in a new era. I wanted to let you know that."
Michelle slowly spread her arms. As if wordlessly offering her embrace—stop sulking and come here. Her silken black hair, falling to her waist, swayed softly.
"Can I hold you just once more?"
Of course, Jin didn't answer the call.
He just muttered indifferently under his breath.
"Shouldn't have let her."
The moment violet lightning surged from his body.
Michelle continued.
"...Such a shame. No helping it. I'll endure a bit longer, even if it's hard."
And that was the end.
Jin, charging at her in compressed time, slammed on the brakes with a screech.
"...Eh?"
An odd noise escaped his lips involuntarily. Spotting her blink far outside the arena—who wouldn't?
Not even debatable: a perfect ring-out.
"What the."
As Jin stared blankly, the equally dumbfounded announcer grabbed the mic in haste.
"W-Winner! Jin Evernight!!!"
No cheers followed.
The arena buzzed with chaos for a while.
A quarterfinalist advancing all that way, only to forfeit the match herself. And she left unscathed, pale face pristine.
Not a serious injury, nor broken will. Just smiling sweetly as she went.
What a farce. Enough to turn stomachs.
Anyone not gossiping would be the odd one.
"Gyaak! N-No way, right?"
"Don't bullshit me! This make any sense?!"
"...Fuck, the money I blew selling organs..."
"Mom. Sorry, son."
Gamblers who'd lost it all clutched their necks and collapsed.
Like artillery near the ceasefire line, they drop first when shit hits the fan.
Foaming at the mouth, shrieking urk! guh! ack! in death throes—a domino spectacle. Amid it, their parting words felt almost like performance art.
Of course, no sympathy here.
The odds were Jin at -840, Michelle +611—a massive gap.
Meaning: Bet 8,400 credits on Jin for a measly 1,000 profit.
Bet 1,000 on Michelle for 6,100 return.
Jin's victory was the heavy favorite.
Think about it: the dark horse who'd reeled in a monster like Kendrick, versus a relatively low-profile contender.
Odds had to reflect that disparity.
Just chronic underdogs doubling down to recoup losses, only to scream into the cold reality.
Some even swapped vital organs for cheap implants, abandoning purist identity.
Even regular spectators were pissed this time.
They'd scraped for those tickets too.
In a tournament where every match mattered, this anticlimax?
"Shouldn't they refund 25% of ticket price for this?"
"Better to forfeit early. What a letdown."
"Ban her type forever. Fuck."
Murmurs spread inevitably. Plenty cursing Michelle.
Making Jin's seat a bed of nails.
"Tch."
But Jin had nothing to apologize for.
Everyone saw Michelle smiling as she left the arena; Jin had zero say in her choice.
Victory without a drop of sweat, yet it felt off.
Jin clicked his tongue, leaning back.
Gazing between the rowdy crowd and arena, he pondered.
What the hell's her deal?
Michelle Riley.
Thinking back, their first meeting was weird too.
'I like you.'
Seemed mildly unhinged then; turns out worse.
Spouting nonsense solo, sudden forfeit—utterly baffling.
Screw it, don't overthink.
As he scratched his hair to clear his mind.
"What're you thinking?"
Scrape—the sound of a chair pulling back. Eanna plopping beside him.
Plain white tee, jeans.
Unremarkable comfy clothes, but her killer figure made her a perennial topic among guys. Her face looked a bit tired now.
Made sense.
She'd fought Katrina to the death.
"Body okay?"
"Manageable... no, it hurts."
Eanna corrected herself, swiveling her chair and extending her arm.
"Bad?"
"Crazy. What even is this."
Jin muttered, startled.
Dark bruises sprawled like gnarled branches against her pale skin.
The answer came not from her, but Laf sitting next.
"Ah, it's ice soul power. Ice crystals smaller than dust infiltrate the skin, absorbing opponent's mana to bloom crystal flowers. Over time, shreds the mana circuits. That's why Margie houses get props for prolonged fights..."
Like Namuwiki incarnate, Laf nailed the explanation despite trembling as his match neared.
"Hmm... stackable debuff vibe. Anyway, drink some warm water. You'll collapse."
"I-I'm f-fine..."
"Warm you up a bit?"
Laf brushed off Jin's concern but beamed gratefully at Eanna's offer.
"Th-That'd be an honor. Yes."
"Hold on."
Next instant, Eanna's casual wave warmed the air in a 3-meter radius.
Felt like 3 degrees up?
Laf's chattering jaw slowed noticeably.
"Thank you kindly, Miss Eanna. I'm Laf, sworn brothers with Jin here—yes. First met on the hyperloop, conversation clicked so we've stuck together, vowed to die the same day..."
"Nice to meet you. Up against Cecil sis next? Hope it goes well."
"Ah, thank you. Even if I lose—no, not assuming loss—I'll uphold Master's honor..."
What's with this guy?
Laf's sudden rambling, incoherent nonsense drew Jin's hollow laugh.
Different from tension stutter. Eanna effect?
Amid it, Laf shook Jin's side with his elbow after a light handshake with Eanna.
Mumbling near-ventriloquism, lips barely moving. Voice low, packed with grievance.
"...Why didn't you say?"
"Say what."
"...That you knew Miss Eanna. Should've said sooner."
"Didn't I? Does it matter?"
"I-I even said I was an Eanna fan..."
As Jin scratched his head, Laf huffed.
"Match starting."
With Eanna's words, the horn blared long.
Turning to the arena: Ryukard and Deier clashing.
Another house matchup.
Anarion of the sword.
Hakan of the earth.
Scoreboard showed 45:55, favoring Hakan. But old gen results.
Anarion's rep now: Ryukard.
Unrivaled swordsman unshaken by Sword Saint's shadow.
His hand rested on the hilt.
"Bro! Here I go!"
Deier roared. Crowd didn't hear, but his body silvering next was clear.
Hakan, earth worshippers, boost physical resistance insanely, mana armor durability beyond imagination.
Hence high win rates vs blade users like Anarion or Gerstein at equal skill.
Eanna fan Laf explained.
"These reps are stacked, overshadowing, but Deier's a Hakan prodigy too. Just 19? Overtaking older bros and sis to rep—says it all..."
Before finishing.
Shing.
Ryukard drew facing the charge.
The ethereal trajectory mimicked a comet crossing night sky; next, backs turned.
"......"
"......"
Silence mutual. Only sheath click clear.
Deier blinked, sensing wrong, slowly turned.
Cracks spidered his mana armor; then crack-craaaack like splitting ice, shattering.
Boom-!!
Glittering shards scattered like glass; Deier unscathed inside.
"...I lost."
Yielding honestly, mana unused.
Dead silence broke into cheers.
Waaaaaaaaaah!!
Jin couldn't help clapping this time.
"Insane. For real."
The genius the world waited 100 years for—legit.
Not for nothing called unrivaled swordsman.
That diagonal slash felt eternal instant even to Jin.
Could I dodge?
Max self-accel, maybe react.
Competitive fire surged.
His gray eyes fixed on silver hair receding.
Not for nothing Sword Saint declared his son's finals.
A man existing as Ryukard, not post-Sword Saint.
Unconsciously, fist clenched.
"I-I'm off."
His turn sudden; Laf rose, face ashen.
At this point, just roll with it.
To Jin, less stage fright, more waiting anxiety.
Knew he'd give 110% once started—so solid back slap for support!
Thus, final group four match.
As Eanna eyed Cecil in the arena.
"Never thought Cecil sis would beat Carlos."
"Everyone did? No hype for nothing."
"Thea was the freak genius; couldn't accept it easy, made it worse. Overly sensitive to rep too."
"But rep flips now, right? Took down Carlos."
"...Yeah."
Eanna faint smile; horn blew, Jin turned—
Status window veiled his view.
「Clan Rotation (Drifting Dark Clouds)」
The purists' festival returns after 7 years.
Prove yourself by winning the tournament,
or ???? the ??? of ????.
🎁 Reward: Perk XP 30,000, ????
And a scream echoed.
"...?!"
Reflexively tilting back to the arena.
Something soared sky-high.
Spinning, trailing blood—it was,
Laf's arm.
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