Chapter 191
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: 12 Apostles
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The Despair Church was not an official religion.
Being a cult, it wasn't well-known even in America.
It was only natural for John Delgado to be suspicious.
“How did you find me?”
His tone toward Spaniard was a bit more polite now.
After hearing that he was the founder of Messiah, he realized he needed to watch his words.
Part of it was also because he saw him as a comrade in the same boat, one who wanted to take down Black Scythe.
“While searching for the number one player in America's district, I met someone who knew your real face. A follower of the Despair Church. That's how we tracked your location.”
“Damn it, selling my face without permission. Which rat bastard...”
“His nickname was Berber.”
“Berber?”
John's mouth fell open in disbelief.
The guy was one of his most trusted loyal subordinates.
“Don't be too hard on him. It wasn't betrayal—he knew you'd like the proposal and gave away your location for that reason.”
“Tch, that guy. Still, I'll have to give him an earful later.”
“Ah, we're here.”
Grumbling, John got out of the car with Spaniard when they arrived.
They had reached a remote forest with no signs of people.
“Let's go. We have to go pretty deep.”
After walking through the forest for about thirty minutes, a small cabin came into view.
“You're saying the meeting's in there?”
“Yes.”
“There are plenty of cafes and other places—why here of all spots...”
“It's a gathering of top-tier powerhouses. Better to stay out of sight, right? Things might even turn into a fight over differing opinions.”
“True, if they start clashing skills and blades, it'd get noisy.”
Being the first meeting, they had no idea what might happen, so extra caution was needed.
“So, the strongest from each country are inside right now?”
“Yes. Three days ago, with you as the last recruit, the Twelve Apostles are all assembled. But not everyone could attend. Some countries couldn't make it to America due to circumstances.”
With that, Spaniard opened the cabin door.
Creak—
At the wooden table inside sat six people with bored expressions.
Top players from various countries, each with different hair colors and races.
“How long are you going to make us wait, Spaniard? Do you want us bored to death?”
“Haha, sorry to keep you waiting so long.”
“Is that the last apostle?”
“Yes. Everyone, say hello. This is John Delgado, America's district number one and the leader of the Despair Church, the Necromancer.”
All eyes turned to John at Spaniard's introduction.
Scrape—
The first to stand was a giant of a man, over two meters tall.
“I've heard the introduction already. Nice to meet you. They call me First Warrior.”
John shook the offered hand, frowning slightly.
The hand was ridiculously large, he thought.
“Judging by your accent, British?”
“Correct. Also the Sword Master who took fifth in this round.”
“Fifth place. Impressive. Must've racked up a ton of points.”
“It's nothing compared to Black Scythe—mere drops in the bucket.”
Once greetings ended, the next person stood and extended a hand.
“India's representative, Swingman. Level 49 martial artist.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“I hear you can raise corpses.”
“Yes.”
“If you ever need bodies, come to our country. We've got them rotting everywhere.”
John gave a wry smile and shook hands with the next person.
An East Asian with the look of a total gamer shut-in.
“Dark Soul. Japanese national, sniper.”
“First time hearing of a sniper class.”
“First time seeing a necromancer for me too.”
“You picked up some English somewhere?”
“Self-taught from American dramas. Can't handle long conversations, though.”
From Britain, India, Japan, Brazil, Mexico—each had different nationalities.
That meant they could only manage basic English; extended talks were out.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, John.”
Most shook hands with John, but one person stayed put.
‘What the hell's with this guy?’
An East Asian lounging with arms crossed, showing no intention of greeting.
“Mr. Yang Chuiwen. We'll be seeing a lot of each other—let's at least say hello.”
“Why should I?”
Spaniard looked troubled at the brazen Chinese man's attitude.
“Who's that?”
“He's Yang Chuiwen, who took second in the eleventh round rankings. China's top ranker and number one in the underworld hierarchy.”
‘Underworld?’
John knew all too well about organizations like the mafia or yakuza that had infamy worldwide.
It was just ridiculous that a mere criminal thug was acting so high and mighty.
“What're you staring at, you Western pig?”
“What'd you say? If you've got something to say, say it in English.”
It irked him that the guy could speak English but muttered in Chinese.
“John, let's greet the rest of the apostles too. They couldn't make it in person, but they've joined via video call.”
Four faces were displayed on the laptop on the table.
Once John had exchanged greetings, Spaniard wrapped it up.
“Alright, that should cover the introductions. Have a seat. Let's get down to business.”
Pushing down his annoyance, John sat.
Eight powerhouses from different countries gathered at one table.
“Since we have a new face, let me introduce myself too. I'm Spaniard, a level 50 gladiator from Spain. As you know, founder of Messiah. I assume you're all aware of why I founded it.”
“To counter Black Scythe.”
Spaniard nodded at John's words.
“Exactly. We've gathered here to stop the number one ranker, Black Scythe. We can't let him run rampant anymore. Alone, we can't stop him—but together, we can.”
“How do you plan to stop him?”
“Isn't that why we're here—to discuss it?”
“It's not something to approach so vaguely. You saw it this time too. He raked in a whopping twenty million points.”
“True. He's surely leveled up massively with exp packs and geared up with special shop items.”
“He might even have hit max level by now.”
Various opinions flew, but they all boiled down to stopping Black Scythe.
“If anyone has good ideas on how to stop Black Scythe, speak freely.”
At Spaniard's words, one person raised his hand smoothly.
China's Yang Chuiwen.
“Why even agonize over this? Go to Korea and kill Black Scythe.”
“Kill him? Isn't that too hasty?”
“Hasty my ass. So we just sit and watch? Watch that bastard hog all the rewards alone?”
Yang Chuiwen's eyes gleamed with murderous intent.
“We have to kill him. No other way. Hesitate, and he'll take everything.”
“I agree.”
John quietly voiced his support.
He didn't like the Chinese guy, but he agreed with the no-mercy kill approach.
“He does seem to be monopolizing all the rewards alone.”
“Balance of power should be spread evenly for everyone to survive, right?”
“Exactly. Him hogging everything destroys the balance. It's like killing off the other players.”
“I agree.”
“I'm for killing him too.”
Most raised hands for assassinating Black Scythe.
No need for a formal vote, but Spaniard asked for show.
“Shall we do a quick vote? Anyone against killing Black Scythe? Raise your hand.”
“......”
“......”
As expected, no one raised a hand.
“Then unanimous for killing Black Scythe. Let's discuss assassination methods. How to find and kill him—speak freely.”
At that, the Japanese player, Dark Soul, raised his hand as if waiting.
“My class is sniper. Once we pinpoint his location, I can headshot him from two kilometers away. That's how I got third in round eleven.”
“Ho, a class perfectly suited for assassination.”
“Hmph, as if. Still beneath me.”
Yang Chuiwen snorted in Chinese before switching to English.
“I'm a hunter. Pro at killing humans, real world or otherworld. Track and kill him in two days flat.”
“Then why join Messiah if you're so great? Just handle Black Scythe yourself.”
Swingman grumbled, and Yang Chuiwen's brow furrowed like paper.
“You curry-munching weakling, why'd you even come here?”
“Anyone speak Chinese? Sounded like cursing—translate for me.”
“Enough.”
The one silencing the room was none other than John.
“Has anyone here met Black Scythe in person?”
Silence fell, and John spoke with a serious face.
“I have. Just three days ago in the otherworld, he severed my limbs.”
“......”
“Know what I felt? Powerlessness. Couldn't even gauge the gap in strength. The thirty undead I summoned vanished without landing a single blow.”
His eyes trembled, reliving the memory.
It wasn't fear he felt.
It was rage.
“He's strong, no doubt. But we can't just take this lying down. I'll mobilize every resource of the Despair Church to crush that bastard. Even a tiger goes all-out for a rabbit. So quit the 'I'll go' or 'you go' bullshit. We charge together—that's our best shot.”
“But it's an ambush...”
“Even ambushed, he won't go down easy. He didn't hit level ninety casually. Might be ninety-nine already. No room for complacency.”
John's words carried weight.
The most realistic yet, enough to sway the Twelve Apostles.
“John's right. We're here to combine forces, not show off. Cooperation is the way.”
With the founder Spaniard agreeing, the others nodded reluctantly.
“Then we'll all head to Korea and execute. Let's plan specifics, starting with finding Black Scythe.”
“I have an idea for that.”
All ears turned to Dark Soul.
They thought it a solid plan, faces brightening.
“Sounds good.”
“Agreed.”
“Let's move on it now.”
“We'll need a smuggling route to Korea—can't risk public movement.”
“Let's do it.”
Sinister smiles spread across the Twelve Apostles' lips.
* * *
Arranged by Ma Kyung-rok, Ryu Min had met with Christine.
Nothing major was discussed.
‘All just as Jeffrey said.’
When he asked if she knew Black Scythe's location, she subtly shook her head and gave her prepared answer.
She knew nothing.
She had seen him in the future, but not his real identity or whereabouts.
—He's clearly reluctant to reveal himself. Otherwise, why the mask? He'd hate being hunted down.
—Probably.
He remembered being surprised at how readily she agreed.
‘Christine knew too. She just put on a show to find Black Scythe for her father's sake.’
But her desire for info on the necromancer was genuine.
Too many sacrificed comrades to bury those revenge feelings.
Of course, Ryu Min gave her not a scrap of info.
Except for the prophecy about round twelve.
‘Revenge is a luxury for Christine. Can't let her dive into danger again.’
A week since his return.
The necromancer Christine sought had likely joined Messiah by now.
‘She knows what Messiah is like from experience.’
An international alliance formed to counter him, Black Scythe.
Composed of each country's strongest under the name Twelve Apostles, they'd soon come to Korea to assassinate him.
‘About a week before they make their move?’
He didn't know the exact timing.
It varied slightly each regression.
But their approach was always the same.
‘They'll target CPF members this time too.’
Contact the members to lure out their leader, Black Scythe.
Many members sacrificed in the process...
‘Not falling for it this time.’
With variables possible, better prepare early.
To welcome the foreigners.