Episode 99: The Emperor Appears

"Gladiators, come out!"

"Hurry up and get out here!!"

The crowd's fervent cheers carried all the way down into the underground holding area.

The three of us stood silently in our assigned positions, waiting to enter the Colosseum floor above.

I tilted my head up and gazed at the faint light filtering through the crack of the closed gate. Once we step out, it's going to be pretty hard on the eyes.

The sword Go Gyumin was carrying must have been heavy; he kept rolling his wrist to loosen it up. Then he glanced sidelong at Jang Siwoon, the corner of his mouth curling up.

"That really suits you, Siwoon. Like a glove."

"……"

Jang Siwoon knew he was teasing her, so she didn't bother to answer.

Go Gyumin and I had also been fitted with armor, but Jang Siwoon alone was mummified from head to face. Since her helmet was nothing but a solid dome with tiny eye holes, she could barely see her surroundings, and it had to be suffocating.

"Siwoon, are you okay? Can you breathe in there?"

"W-well, I just have to think of it as a heavy helmet that won't let me breathe."

Which is another way of saying she can hardly breathe at all…

The armor had been custom-fitted to her gladiator class, but it looked like it would take a while to get used to.

"We can pull this off, right?"

Go Gyumin seemed to share my worry, asking the question half to himself. We'd only had less than a single day of training — concern was only natural.

"We got a hint from the noblewoman yesterday, and thanks to her we've put together a plan of our own. I think we'll be fine."

"That's assuming your guess is right, Jisan."

"I haven't pinned down exactly what our opponent is, but I've mapped out its attack patterns."

Before the duel, we had gone through training with a professional instructor.

'Now. This is your final choice.'

Swish—

'…?'

'Choose your gladiator classes based on your aptitudes. The combination of your three classes will determine your opponent.'

We ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stared at the leaflet the instructor had produced and could only laugh hollowly at the absurdity of it. If we were supposed to pick our own classes, what was the point of the professional instructor? Not that I didn't understand — this, too, was a stage designed to make us rely on a visitor's own wisdom.

'Once you have chosen your classes, I will begin your training.'

'So basically, you're telling us to draw up a strategy.'

Jang Siwoon, by far the most experienced among us, was the first to calm down, a sharp gleam entering her eyes. And at the end of our discussion, we each selected a class and received the corresponding training from the instructor.

"Siwoon, though — what good is training this short going to do us?"

"In the real world, none. But we're visitors of this Museum. If the attacks are systematized, then it's a whole different story."

"Systematized, sure, but…"

Go Gyumin started to grumble out of habit, then shut his mouth. He knew that complaining now would only deflate our morale.

Rumble—

At last, the gate above our heads opened, and bright light poured in.

"Let's win this."

At my words, Go Gyumin and Jang Siwoon nodded.

The ancient Roman lift mechanism engaged, and our bodies rose upward.

"Whoaaaah!!!"

A hot, dry heat crashed over our skin, nothing like the damp air we'd felt underground. Rome's summer weather was a different species of heat from Korea's, and sweat started pouring down almost immediately.

And with armor on top of this, our stamina's going to drain even faster.

It was a small mercy that we could at least check our vitality through the ink gauge. The air was so stiflingly hot it felt like being shoved bodily into a room where someone had set a fire.

So this is the Colosseum floor…

The circular arena was vast, and the crowd beyond numbering. The battlefield was covered in countless traces — a gladiator's footprints, gouges in the sand, and… dried, dark-red stains. Blood.

"First, from the East — the sorikkun, the Praegnari. Go Gyumin!"

The moment the announcer's voice swept across the arena, the entire stands boiled over. The sheer vibration of the space rang in my ears and made my chest tremble.

Swish—

Beside Go Gyumin, a brief profile unfolded — a leaflet summarizing and introducing his gladiator class.

So that's what he was kicking up a fuss about yesterday. Go Gyumin had been shouting that they wanted him to sing in a deathmatch, of all places. He must have been terrified of getting his throat slit mid-song.

Even now, Go Gyumin was scratching his head in bemusement as he stared down at his own profile. But even so, he never once let go of the blade in his hand.

It's the perfect role for Go Gyumin's ability — for his Perk.

Strange that I was more certain about it than he was. Well, once the duel actually started, Go Gyumin would get serious soon enough.

Claudia said this duel was, above all, a performance. Those words matter.

With the crowd and the Emperor as our judges, we needed a clown capable of swaying them. Sure enough, the spectators were already gleaming with anticipation at the sight of the Eastern Praegnari, eyes glittering.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

With Go Gyumin's Perk, it'll be more than enough.

"The Secutor warrior woman, Jang Siwoon!"

Another thunderous roar erupted. A clown, and now a warrior woman — the cheering turned rougher, more lewdly eager.

Swish—

"What's up with that Secutor? Armor's way too light."

"Afraid she'll trip over her own gear, is she? Haha!"

As Jang Siwoon took a single step forward, the crowd showered her with mockery. The large shield, the short sword, the smooth helmet with its tiny eye holes — all of it had been prepared at a featherlight weight, custom-sized to her build.

A standard Secutor would have been clad head to toe in heavy armor. But the professional instructor had deliberately reduced the weight of her armor and weapons to match her physique. A choice made for agility.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep yapping."

I heard Jang Siwoon mutter through clenched teeth, aimed at the crowd. Thanks to the spectators, her blood was surely up — her attack power about to climb another notch.

"Even that short sword looks heavy to her. What are we ever going to do with the little thing~"

"Ugh, shut it. I can take it when it's Mr. Go, but those bastards really—"

Jang Siwoon glared at the Roman nobles and barely swallowed the curse rising up her throat. I exhaled a sigh of relief and clutched my chest. A single flicker of expression from her had set off laughter all around us.

I wish it were my turn already. If she keeps this up, she's going to leap into the stands.

Rather than angered by their sneers, I was anxious on Jang Siwoon's behalf — and right at that moment—

"And now, the final gladiator!"

The surrounding noise dipped a beat, and a deliberate hush descended.

"A Retiarius possessed by a hero of the East! Kim Jisan!!"

Though technically the possession hasn't happened yet.

Swish—

The long trident was so heavy that I walked out dragging its tip along the ground. Sure enough, the crowd roared with laughter, jeering at me.

"So that's why he can't carry a net! He can barely manage the trident alone!"

"He should've stacked his shoulder guards three layers deep!"

I had chosen the trident over the net because it seemed far better suited to the soul I would channel. But there was no need to explain that to them.

Because I'm about to show them.

"Haha, look at those three Eastern slaves."

"The quality of this duel has really gone downhill, hasn't it? I'm certain they'll all be dead within a second."

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠look in Jang Siwoon's eyes grew several shades sharper. Her patience seemed to be quietly approaching its limit.

"I'd honestly rather deal with those nobles rattling off their racist commentary first."

"Siwoon, let's save our strength."

Swish—

Then, out of nowhere, a brief message flickered up and vanished.

Does that mean I've climbed one floor just by coming up out of the underground?

Just as I'd suspected — stepping onto the open air of the arena, the tower had gifted us a floor. All that remained was to succeed at the quest and leap straight up to Floor 48.

"Before our monster of consecutive victories makes his grand entrance—!"

The announcer's voice rang out once more.

"We welcome His Imperial Majesty, the Great Emperor, as judge of this Colosseum duel!"

"Whoaaaaah—"

The cheer for the Emperor, who stood above even the nobility, was on another level entirely.

"Well, what are we supposed to do, clap for him or something?"

"There's no point buttering up the Emperor's mood. He's an NPC anyway."

In contrast to the crowd, the three of us narrowed our eyes flat and waited for the Emperor with zero enthusiasm. I was giving Go Gyumin's remark a languid, indifferent reply when—

"?!"

A voice boring into my skull. A voice so familiar it made my skin crawl.

"…The Curator."

I ground my teeth as I looked up at the figure now making his entrance. The Curator strode in with unhurried grace, draped in his gray robe as always — except this time, a laurel wreath hovered above his severed neck. As though resting upon a head no one could see.

"You there! Such insolence before His Imperial Majesty!!"

"Boooo—"

The instant a single noble shouted, the crowd's jeers came pouring down. The cheers of a moment ago had turned into vicious condemnation.

Damn it…

I swallowed my curse where only I could hear it, but—

"Fuck this."

"This is pissing me off."

Go Gyumin and Jang Siwoon spat their curses low, pitched so that only we could hear. The words never reached the crowd's ears — yet the Curator gave an infuriating little shrug of the shoulders, as if he'd heard every syllable.

The Curator, appearing as the Emperor. This is not a scenario I saw coming.

"If the Curator is appearing as His Imperial Majesty the judge — doesn't that mean he could hand down treatment that's unfair to us slaves?"

I deliberately raised my voice and hurled the pointed question at the Curator like a weapon.

"He is simply that great, after all."

When the Curator fell briefly silent, I added the jab on purpose, twisting the knife. It wasn't merely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because he disgusted me.

Three slaves who face the Emperor without a shred of fear. It was the kind of performance the crowd would remember.

Just as I'd expected, a stir of murmurs rippled outward.

BOOM—!

Perhaps the Curator had wanted to move the situation along, but the ground chose that exact moment to shudder. An immense tremor traveled straight up through the soles of my feet.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The tremors began climbing up out of the earth itself. The opponent called a monster could hardly bear to wait even a moment longer, stamping furiously at the floor of the lift. Fine grains of sand were leaping off the arena floor at the Colosseum's edge.

And at last, what rose up from the lift opposite ours was—

"The monster enters!"

"Whoaaaaah!!"

A cheer close to outright madness came crashing down. My legs nearly buckled on the spot, but I barely managed to square my stance again.

"…!!"

Every instinct screamed to run, but I had to hold. No — seriously, if this thing was going to be fused with a fantasy genre, someone should have warned me a little harder. Claudia's hints had all been accurate, but this still exceeded anything I'd imagined.

"Uooooooh—"

The enemy let out a low rumble through the hole punched in its face. A bestial bellow. Goosebumps raced across my entire body.

It was so tall that it blotted out the sunlight as it walked slowly forward — and its enormous shadow swallowed the three of us whole. It had the shape of a man, but it was far too large to be called human.

"Jisan. There's a real chance, right…? Right…?"

Even so, Go Gyumin still had the presence of mind to speak, his voice trembling as he reached out to me. Jang Siwoon, who had been the calmest of us, had gone pale and green with fear.

"The armored beast of pure defense, the Murmillo! Cyclops makes his entrance!"