Chapter 27: After This Round, I’ll...
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 27: After This Round, I’ll...
A diary, by definition, is a record of one's own experiences.
If the Black Book’s ability was "record-keeping," then was the assassin appearing before him also a form of record?
If an assassin could be recorded by the Black Book, what about other things? Or rather, other people?
The more Muen thought about it, the more excited he became.
"If that’s the case, doesn't this make me the owner of a budget, hard-knock version of the Sharingan? I just need to record other people's moves, and I can leech off them for free. I won't even have to pay tuition!"
"Plus, with such a realistic environment and opponent, I’ll definitely master skills way faster!"
"With a cheat this powerful, why should I fear the protagonist?"
Muen’s eyes grew brighter and brighter, as if he could already see a future where he kicked the protagonist aside, punched out the villains, married a rich, high-born beauty, and ascended to the pinnacle of life!
"Ah."
Unfortunately, before he could decide whether to marry a gentle, "big sister" type of beauty or a devious, sharp-tongued one, Muen saw the assassin flash before him once again.
Then, she raised her dagger.
"Fuck."
Muen didn't even have a chance to react. He could only spit out a curse in impotent rage.
And so, his head hit the floor again.
*
"Again!"
His consciousness snapped back to reality. Before he could even fully process the lingering sensation of death, Muen slammed his palm onto the page of the Black Book.
"I don't believe this!"
*
In the dark space, Muen opened his eyes.
The assassin was still standing a short distance away, about ten meters or so. Her position was exactly the same as the first and second times he had entered.
But Muen knew that for this assassin, this distance was essentially non-existent.
"So, my current goal is to learn that footwork of hers?"
He was truly salivating over that skill that allowed her to flash ten meters in an instant. With that, if nothing else, his ability to escape would be massively increased!
"You should at least give me a weapon."
Muen looked around at the empty void.
"How am I supposed to fight her barehanded?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Muen felt something cold in his hand.
Looking down, he saw a dagger.
It was the exact same model as the one in the assassin's hand.
"As expected, it can only reproduce things that have been recorded?"
Muen wasn't particularly skilled with a dagger.
But it didn't matter; the assassin's dagger techniques were also something worth learning.
Muen looked up, a smirk playing on his lips.
While Muen might be a "trash" character compared to the protagonist’s group of cheaters, he was still the son of a Duke. The foundation he had built since childhood due to his status made him a standout among his peers.
This was evident from the fact that his Martial Artist realm was still neck-and-neck with the protagonist, even as the latter began to hit their stride.
Facing the real assassin, he wouldn't have stood a ghost of a chance, but...
"Right now, you’re nothing more than a recorded phantom in this book."
Muen gripped the dagger in a reverse hold and settled into a stance.
"So, be a good girl and hand over all your moves and skills!"
*
The assassin was merely a recorded phantom constructed by the Black Book; she naturally wouldn't respond to Muen. She could only do as she had done in life: silently launch an attack.
"Here she comes!"
Muen’s gaze sharpened.
Just like before, the assassin slammed her foot—clad in a small leather boot—against the ground!
Her figure vanished instantly. It wasn't a true disappearance, but rather her speed was so immense that she had slipped out of Muen’s line of sight for a split second.
By the time she reappeared, she was inches away from him.
"Did you think the same move would work on me again?"
Even a pig would react after being killed by the same move twice, let alone a human!
Muen had predicted it the moment the assassin moved. Her target was definitely still his neck!
The gap in their realms and strength was massive, so matching her reactions was impossible—but he could anticipate!
The moment the assassin vanished from his sight, Muen immediately tilted his head to the left, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike aimed precisely at his carotid artery from the right.
In truth, it didn't matter whether the assassin aimed for the artery or not, because every time, her razor-sharp blade would simply sever Muen’s neck entirely.
However, no matter how sharp a dagger is, it only has killing power if it makes contact!
What’s the difference between a missed dagger and a toy?
Watching the assassin, who seemed to pause for a fraction of a second as the dagger swept past his neck, Muen couldn't help but flash an arrogant grin.
"How about that? Even if there's a huge gap in strength, I only need to use my brain to—"
Muen didn't finish his sentence.
Because he heard the whistle of wind.
The sound of a sharp weapon slicing through the air.
The dagger had indeed missed, but the assassin didn't change her stance or retreat to reorganize her attack.
She simply opened her hand.
The dagger spun rapidly in her palm like a fluttering butterfly.
She gripped the hilt again, but the dagger’s orientation had changed.
It went from a forward thrust to a reverse grip.
Consequently, the blade that had just swept past Muen’s neck came swinging back after a full rotation.
"Fuck."
Before Muen could even offer a parting greeting, the dagger plunged unerringly into his carotid artery.
Blood sprayed.
Consciousness faded.
*
"Dammit."
Muen snapped his eyes open.
The lingering fear of sudden death still flickered in his gaze.
"Even her on-the-fly reactions are identical to the original?"
Three days ago, when the real assassin tried to kill Celicia, she hadn't pulled off a fancy dagger spin like that.
This meant that the maid's behavior in the dark space was a "record" constructed by the Black Book that could adapt to his own reactions.
"The Black Book’s record reproduction is actually this terrifying?"
After realizing this, Muen wasn't frustrated; instead, a hint of excitement appeared in his eyes.
The more realistic the record, the more useful it was to him!
Muen looked up at the clock on the wall.
"The time flow is consistent. Tsk, so I only lasted three seconds?"
"Again!"
Muen slammed his hand down on the Black Book once more.
*
"Five seconds this time. Not bad, keep it up!"
"Again!"
*
"Ten seconds!"
"Again!"
*
"Dammit, I should have blocked that horizontal sweep instead of dodging!"
"Again!"
*
"Son of a... a knee strike? She even knows how to use knee strikes!"
"Again!"
*
"Fuck, a groin kick? That’s playing dirty! You’re so much stronger than me, and you’re still pulling that?"
"Again!"
*
"Young Master, it's time for dinner."
An, who had specifically brought a meal over to look after Muen, knocked on the door.
"..."
"Strange. Why is there no response? Is he asleep?"
An didn't keep shouting. Instead, she naturally and smoothly opened the door.
She scanned the room.
The desk showed signs of use, so it seemed the Young Master hadn't been sleeping the whole time.
After placing the food on the table, An turned her gaze toward the bed.
She could see Muen wrapped tightly in his blankets, curled into a ball.
"Sigh, he's so old, yet he still sleeps like a little child."
"He must have just fallen asleep. I won't disturb him."
After a moment's thought, An left the food on the table, cast a small heat preservation spell on it, and then cautiously departed without making a sound.
After An left, a head suddenly popped out from the ball of blankets.
Muen opened his bloodshot eyes. Looking at the fragrant dinner, he muttered in a voice only he could hear:
"One more time. Just one more. After this round, I’m getting out of bed to eat!"