Chapter: 201
This time, the place I’ve come to take on a challenge is where agility is put to the test.
A game of dodging magic bullets flying from afar.
Even if I get hit, it doesn’t hurt, but there’s a tricky condition that if I fail to dodge them all, I lose, so I can’t get hit at all.
I was the one dashing around while wielding a massive shield that covered my whole body and wearing thick armor.
I had to slow down for the students of the Academy, including Arthur, but shedding all that weight and boosting my physical abilities with doping, how could my agility be lacking?
No matter how they flew in odd trajectories, I was confident I could evade them all.
“Let the game begin!”
With that shout, as I watched the magic bullets approaching, I immediately felt victorious.
This pattern.
It’s exactly like what I saw in the game.
I had once been obsessed with the Festival Massacre quest.
Why, you ask?
It’s infuriating.
Even if I did my best, it was a quest I couldn’t win.
I knew it was just a bonus and that I didn’t have to clear it, but being far from rational, I gritted my teeth and dove headfirst.
And I got completely wrecked.
Luck was a variable that mere humans couldn’t control.
In the past, I thought I wasted time doing crazy things, but who would’ve thought I’d be repaid for those efforts now?
After taking one step to the right, I took two steps to the left.
Then, I jumped up and rolled back.
And…
[Are you seeing the future or something?]
‘Maybe so.’
[Seems like Lord Jushin is helping you out after all.]
I didn’t like that my past efforts were becoming the grace of the Lord, but I couldn’t get angry.
How could I tell them I memorized this pattern outside the monitor?
Ah. I want to change my mind.
I really hate that what I’m doing becomes the achievement of that shoddy pervert god.
Even while thinking different thoughts inside, my body faithfully executed the memories of the past, and I managed to win this round without a scratch.
Did it not occur to them that I wouldn’t be perfectly countered like this?
The street vendor was staring at me blankly, forgetting even to announce my victory.
‘Excuse me, sir. It’s over now, right?’
“Hey. Mustache. Why aren’t you talking? It’s over.”
“…Congratulations. You won this match.”
‘Thank you.’
“Did you get shocked? To think you intended to hit me with such a sloppy pattern. You’re as absurdly foolish as your mustache. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
I messed up. I unconsciously said thanks while thinking about something else.
Seeing the face of the blushing vendor, I quickly left the place.
Staying any longer would only put a strain on the vendor’s blood vessels.
Sigh. So now I just need to win two more times at the vendor.
After finishing the doping, I continuously moved around countless vendors.
I didn’t know when the doping effects would wear off, so I kept sprinting.
At first, the atmosphere was good. Thanks to the combination of Phoebe’s buffs and the knowledge I learned from the pre-possession festival, I won consecutively at several vendors.
While my physique worked to address mobility, I passed variables that were largely influenced by luck over to the bracelet.
At vendors that required memorization, I easily cleared them using the logging feature.
At that time, I thought I was riding the wave of success.
I thought that after being prepared to lay in bed for several days, I’d crush the shoddy god’s antics.
But unexpectedly, an issue arose from an unlikely place.
It was a vendor that posed quizzes.
[Wrong. That guy's nickname back then was the Shield King. He earned that nickname because he fought fiercely without retreating during the capital siege.]
‘Huh? But—’
[Is your memory really that accurate? Is my memory of participating in that siege accurate?]
I had been writing down the quiz answers based on my past memorization, but the old man interrupted.
He said it was wrong. The right answer was something else.
At first, I was puzzled, but since the old man was so sure, I began to think I might have remembered it wrong.
That was a mistake.
My memory, rotten but solid, couldn’t be wrong, yet I foolishly listened to someone else’s words.
<…Huh? Why is that? Why is that guy's nickname…?>
‘Grandfather!’
I yelled out in anger at the betrayal from the old man whom I believed in, but after calming down, I was able to understand upon hearing the old man’s explanation.
The issue was simple.
The old man’s memory was from when the king was still alive.
The question asked how it was named in later generations.
The gap created by two hundred years led the old man to the wrong answer.
[I’m sorry, young lady. I made such a mistake.]
‘It’s okay, Grandfather. But do you know? The Partlan family’s stable is really big. I’m sure the amount of manure produced there is immense as well.’
[I'm sorry! I'm sorry, young lady! Just that one thing! Just that one thing, please spare me!]
Did the flow get interrupted?
At the vendor I judged to have low influence from luck, I ended up with two losses.
Honestly, it felt utterly unfair.
No matter how unlucky you are, there are limits.
That level of bad luck felt like the Dice God slammed my head with a die!
Is this really just the shoddy god playing tricks on me?
It made sense that if left alone, I would win, so he intentionally poured bad luck on me.
It just doesn’t add up!
How could I, who scores above average on all exams, be fated to suffer bad luck?
After three consecutive defeats and losing all my remaining coins, I found myself at the edge of a cliff.
The only fortunate thing was that there were just two vendors left, and both were fields I was confident in.
Whichever choice I made, I could succeed if I played well, but there’s a difference in my confidence.
I should save the most confident one for last.
Having made that decision, I immediately moved my feet and spotted a familiar face after a long time.
Frey.
A talent destined to be the next Sword Saint.
I guess it’s because of me, but she seems way more cheerful than when I saw her in the game.
She was wielding a sword as she battled at the vendor.
The duel at this vendor involved slicing through all incoming objects.
The speed, size, and toughness of the incoming items varied, making this a troublesome duel, but Frey seemed to have everything under control.
‘Grandfather. I think her swordsmanship has changed.’
I don’t have any particular expertise in swordsmanship, but I can still tell.
I trained with Frey throughout the first semester at the Academy.
I know better than anyone what her sword is like.
It’s fast, fierce, reckless, and selfish—close to a violent style that relies solely on her talent.
But now, it’s different. While the essence of her swordsmanship remains, how should I put it?
It’s become more refined. Polished, perhaps?
[You’ve taken a step forward in these two months.]
She surely said she would return to the Kent territory to learn swordsmanship.
Seems like she must have realized something.
Anyway, Frey is a ridiculously talented person.
It’ll be even harder to face her in the second semester.
“Congratulations. You’ve achieved victory.”
“That was easy, super easy.”
“…As expected of Lady Kent.”
As Frey let out a laugh behind her, she locked eyes with me and immediately rushed over.
“Long time no see.”
‘Hello, Frey.’
“Yeah. Foolish swordsman.”
Frey’s expression was as usual, emotionless, but the moment she called me a fool, the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.
Is being called a fool that delightful?
“Lucy’s joining in too?”
‘Yep.’
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“It’s a competition.”
As Frey clenched her fists with determination to take me down, it wasn’t really intimidating.
If she can’t resolve it physically, she’ll fail.
“I’ll see you later.”
Knowing or not knowing my thoughts, she left with quick steps but suddenly stopped and turned back towards me.
‘What is it?’
“What? Foolish swordsman.”
“Bye-bye.”
With a tired voice, she said her farewell and hurried away.
Uh… what was that about?
What happened to Frey during the vacation?
“Next person!”
While I was blankly looking at the space where Frey had just been, the vendor called me.
“Lady Allen. Do you need an explanation of the rules?”
‘No, I’m fine.’
“There’s no need to explain in this shoddy vendor game.”
With a stiff smile, the vendor nodded and handed me a sword.
[You’re clumsy at holding a sword.]
‘Of course, I’ve never trained with a sword.’
I learned through glances, but that’s it. I’ve never trained properly, and I don’t have any skills related to swords.
[Can you do this?]
‘Of course.’
But it’s fine.
This isn’t a death battle but just a game. To win here requires agility, strength, reflexes, and just enough rotten brainpower to remember the types and trajectories of flying items.
*
After easily winning at the slicing vendor, I moved toward the last remaining vendor.
Sigh. If the old man hadn’t said anything strange, I could’ve relaxed by now.
What a shame.
[How longare you going to drag that out?]
‘For life.’
[If that’s the case, then just take the punishment!]
‘I don’t want to.’
Who knows when another clear mistake of the old man might happen?
So, I’m going to make the most of it for life.
Whenever the old man says something, I’ll bring this up.
[You're relentless. Relentlessly clever.]
As I chuckled at the old man’s complaining voice, I saw a crowd of people ahead.
It makes sense for people to gather near the vendor, but the makeup was strange.
Soldiers, knights, nobles—many of them. And in the center was none other than…
The First Prince.
Rene Soladin.
Why is he here?!
…First, let’s make a run for it.
After all, once I face off at the vendor, he’ll back off, so I’ll kill time somewhere else.
“Isn’t that Lucy Allen of the Allen family?”
With the First Prince’s voice, everyone’s gaze turned to me.
Crap. It’s too late.
“Are you enjoying the festival?”
‘Yes, of course!’
“I, unlike others, love the sunshine, so I’m truly enjoying it.”
“Ha. Is that so?”
I could see the Prince’s brow furrowing.
Sigh. This is why I didn’t want to meet him.
“I’m curious. How many vendors have you won against? With how confident you were, you must have a few.”
‘Thirteen.’
“Thirteen. Must be you, Prince of the gloomy hermit, surely have won more than me?”
“…Tch. It’s a tie, then.”
Wait, did I just win thirteen vendors?!
While I barely scraped by using doping, items, and cheat-level knowledge, he—
As expected, a final boss is indeed a final boss. Impressive.
“I just had to ask, but is this place your last one as well?”
In my awe, I nodded unconsciously and later finally grasped what the First Prince had said.
“Indeed. Quite the coincidence. You’re also planning on ending here.”
The First Prince stepped closer and continued speaking.
“I have a proposal. Since the outcome here will settle our match, why not have a duel?”
Looking down upon me, those black eyes reflected a certain determination.
It was clear: he planned to crack me right in front of many spectators.
As a man older and more equipped than I was, this was a pathetic and cowardly proposal.
But…
‘Shall we?’
“If the gloomy hermit Prince asks so earnestly, I really have no choice.”
Without hesitation, I accepted.
I had no reason to refuse.
After all, the duel at this vendor was the one I was most confident in.
Strategy in virtual dungeons.
Publish tactics based on the conditions provided by the vendors.
Hey, First Prince.
No, Rene Soladin.
You made the wrong bet.
Your opponent is a mere first-year from the Academy, not someone who has memorized all the strategies of the dungeons in this world—a rotten brain!
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