Chapter 196
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 196
Chapter Title: Those Targeting the Black Scythe
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The operation to assassinate the Black Scythe proceeded without a hitch.
“Greetings. Name’s Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey introduced himself before the five Apostles.
“I’m a level 48 assassin. Whether it’s tailing or killing, I can handle any job you throw at me. Just say the word.”
“Have you heard from Swingman? Do you know what we need?”
At Spaniard’s question, Jeffrey nodded.
“I hear it’s about tailing the CPF squad leader in Korea and finding out where he lives.”
“Can you pull it off?”
“Piece of cake. I’ve already scoped out the police station where the squad leader shows up regularly, so I just need to stake it out. Of course, the sooner the points come in, the sooner I start tailing.”
“Haha, good. So, what’s your fee?”
“100,000 points upfront, another 100,000 on completion. Total of 200,000 points.”
“...”
Not dollars or gold, but points as payment.
They already knew points could be traded via the trading function, so it wasn’t all that surprising.
The amount was just bigger than expected.
“200,000 points? Isn’t that steep?”
“We could all chip in 40,000 each. Not impossible.”
“No choice, then. Everyone, kick in 20,000 points for the upfront.”
They all nodded as if it were settled, but one person wore a suspicious look.
John Delgado.
“You said your name’s Jeffrey?”
“Yes.”
“You’re white. Where you from?”
“America.”
“How’d an American like you connect with Swingman, who’s Indian?”
“I don’t discriminate by nationality when taking clients. I go where the money is.”
The sudden probing question could’ve thrown anyone off, but Jeffrey answered smoothly.
Ryu Min had prepped him with the responses.
“You’ve done this kind of contract work before, I take it?”
“Yes. People looking for assassins are everywhere. Normals or Players alike.”
“A guy as famous as that, and I’ve never heard of you? We’re both American.”
“Can’t exactly advertise contract killing, can I?”
With that, the conversation died.
No more dirt to dig from Jeffrey, so John turned his arrows toward Ryu Min.
“Swingman, why’d you bring in an assassin?”
“I needed a tailing job done personally once. That’s how I met Jeffrey. Satisfied now?”
Ryu Min shot back sharply, leaving John no room to press further.
No real ammunition anyway.
As the mood grew tense, Spaniard clapped to lighten things up.
“Alright, sounds like a solid guy with experience we can trust. Let’s hand it over. Jeffrey? We’ll trade, so get it done quick.”
“Yes. No worries.”
Jeffrey pocketed the points from the Apostles with a grin, then vanished.
True to his assassin creds, his invisibility skill let him slip away without tripping any detection.
“Now we wait and see if our assassin delivers.”
“Agreed.”
They all smiled in satisfaction—except John Delgado, who couldn’t hide his unease.
* * *
Contact from Jeffrey came exactly one week before the next round.
“He’s here!”
“What’s the word? He found him?”
“Yes! He tailed and pinpointed the Black Scythe’s residence.”
“Excellent!”
The Apostles beamed at Swingman’s report.
Only John Delgado, still sour about Swingman, looked unconvinced.
“You sure about that intel? Did he confirm the Black Scythe’s inside?”
“Of course. Here’s the video Jeffrey sent.”
The footage showed someone in a white mask exiting a villa entrance.
“This is him. The mask matches the one from the guy who ambushed us. Definitely the Black Scythe.”
“...”
Swingman was the only one who’d seen the real-world Black Scythe.
He couldn’t outright deny it.
Nor could he confirm it.
“You’re certain this is the Black Scythe?”
“Yes. Positive! I’d stake my life on it.”
With Swingman so adamant, the other Apostles had to concede.
“Heh, we’ve finally got the Black Scythe’s hideout.”
“Just the assassination left, per plan.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll pop his lid off with my godlike sniping.”
Dark Soul boasted confidently, but Yang Chiwen wasn’t about to sit idle.
“Who the hell invited you? We agreed to my plan! We wait till round 12!”
“We’ve got his house. Why wait? Snipe him now.”
“You brainless idiot. What if the shot misses? He bolts, relocates, and my whole setup’s wasted. Get it?”
“True. Dark Soul, better stick to Yang Chiwen’s plan. Just one week.”
With Spaniard weighing in, Dark Soul smacked his lips in regret but backed off.
“Fine. I’ll prep the gang members who’ll slit the Black Scythe’s throat.”
“Yes. Yang Chiwen, have your organization infiltrate Korea ahead of time for a midnight strike on December 1st.”
“Consider it done.”
The Apostles smirked slyly.
They had no idea.
The plan was doomed from the start.
The “residence” was a trap Ryu Min had set.
* * *
Every angel knew the Heavenly Realm was ruled by the seven Archangels.
Even fewer now—six—after Remiel’s recent death.
But how she died, and by whose hand? No one knew.
Except the Archangels themselves.
[This is grave. Most grave.]
[Indeed.]
The Archangels gathered for once.
They convened like this for major crises, but it’d been rare lately.
Until Remiel’s death.
[To shrink from seven steadfast Archangels to six after centuries? Unprecedented. Our reputation plummets.]
[Agreed. The mighty Archangels’ prestige crashes to the dirt. We need a plan.]
Number two, Gabriel, and number four, Uriel, raised their voices.
The silent number one, Michael, asked their thoughts.
[What should we do?]
[Grab that filthy worm who killed Remiel and crush it!]
[Drag it to the Heavenly Realm and skin it alive before all to see!]
Their opinions aligned.
Subdue the Black Scythe, haul him here, mete out heavenly justice.
‘Tricky.’
Dragging a round-active Player to the Heavenly Realm stripped their qualifications instantly.
No longer participants, no summons to next rounds.
Couldn’t even return to Earth.
Utterly severed from the survival game.
Fine by the Archangels.
Punishing the criminal was all that mattered.
But Michael’s stance differed.
‘To become a god, I need the Black Scythe to win this game.’
Meaning, protect him safely through to round 20.
In this bloodthirsty mood, though? Doubtful.
Especially from number five, Raguel.
[Michael. Give me a shot. I’ll fetch that human scum called Black Scythe for due judgment.]
The Archangel of justice, fairness, harmony—fitting.
Raguel couldn’t stomach leaving such injustice be.
‘She’d rip him to shreds, barely alive, then drag him here for endless torture.’
Obvious. Couldn’t send Raguel.
Unless he went himself.
‘No. If I step up, claim I’ll handle it, and come back empty-handed? The blame falls on me.’
To douse the flames, someone had to go.
A weak enough Archangel for Black Scythe to handle.
‘Who to send?’
Pondering, Michael’s eyes fell on the sole silent one.
Number six, Archangel of Death, Sariel.
‘Lowest rank among us makes Sariel fitting, but...’
Problem: Sariel countered Reapers.
‘A mere Player’s darkness can’t touch the Archangel of Death’s.’
How could a job-class darkness defy death incarnate?
‘He’d submit without a fight.’
But couldn’t send Raguel above her either.
Eyes blazing, she’d go all-out on sight.
‘Raguel at full power? Even Black Scythe couldn’t survive.’
Wanted an angel Black Scythe could handle, but no such Archangel.
Five or six—both too much.
Higher? Forget it.
‘Suggest low-tier angels? They’d revolt.’
Killing seventh-ranked Remiel proved superhuman.
Sending lesser first-sphere ones? They’d howl.
‘Hmm. Who to send so Black Scythe survives...’
Absurd thoughts to outsiders, but oblivious, the Archangels bickered.
[We must seize that human now! Open a dimensional gate and descend to Earth if need be!]
[Forcing a gate pre-round costs dearly. No need to rush, no?]
[So Gabriel, you’d let that worm rampage?]
[Endure till round 12 starts, Raguel. I get your fire, but cool heads weigh gains and losses now.]
[Then send me in round 12! I’ll nab him, restore our lost dignity!]
[No.]
Michael interjected mid-debate.
He’d chosen.
[For fetching Black Scythe, Sariel goes.]
[Michael, why!?]
[You’ve lost reason. Sariel stays calm before sinners—better suited.]
[I can do it! With this blade of judgment, that worm disrupting heavenly order...]
[See? Who’s the riled-up angel now?]
[......]
[My mind’s set. Sariel’s perfect for this. No need for number five on a mere worm.]
[Hmm... Fair point.]
Number one’s will must stand.
Though Michael had weighed their strengths first.
‘If anyone, six is the least threatening.’
Reaper-counter or not, maybe escape possible.
[Sariel. Can you?]
[Of course, Michael. What’s so hard about one human?]
[Then it’s settled. At round 12, Sariel, sneak to the other realm and bring Black Scythe. We judge him here—no killing.]
[Just no killing?]
[Ideally pristine condition. Tough, but.]
The last jab stung?
Sariel’s feather-long brows twitched.
[I’ll bring him spotless. Not a scratch.]
Grinding teeth, Sariel’s look unnerved Michael.
‘That’s not what I meant...’
His words to aid Black Scythe had fanned the flames instead.
He never saw it coming.