Chapter 338: Trap (2) - THE RETURN OF THE IRON-BLOOD SWORD HOUND

Chapter 338: Trap (2)

<10th Floor Lost Paradise>

A translucent screen floats on the wall.

The first thing that catches his eye is a catalog that lists numerous items and their prices.

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A rest area where you can buy anything with candy.

Comfortable and cozy things are everywhere.

The items aren't too expensive, so even people with low levels and stats can relax here.

Delicious food, fluffy furniture, interesting entertainment... You can even send a message to someone outside the tower!

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The downside is that you only get one reply and it costs an additional golden candy to read it, but you can still communicate.

Plus, it's free to send once a month, so that's an added perk.

With less than 0.0001% of challengers making it to this level, and the next level being 10x harder, you'll be lucky to even make it to this level.

So for all the comforts and conveniences, Vikir had this to say.

'...That's one hell of a trap.'

This is the first time he's seen a trap laid out so blatantly.

But it's the traps on this floor that are so effective nonetheless.

Even Vikir, who has seen it all, would have fallen to it if he hadn't had the knowledge he had before the regression.

'Even the great and powerful Camus had a hard time on this floor,'

Vikir didn't relax, recalling an incident from long ago.

The face of Hugo Le Baskerville, patriarch of the Baskerville family, flashed in his mind.

'Do you know how to catch the big beast?'

One day, Hugo gathered the young hounds of the Baskervilles around him and said that.

One of the hounds raised his hand and said, "It's called a pack," and Hugo shook his head.

'I'm talking about a very large beast, a beast that can't be defeated by many. What would you do if such a thing ruled an entire mountain and reigned like a king?'

A large beast that reigns supreme over a region.

A single entity whose combat power and danger is so high that even an army can't handle it.

Indeed, the western fringes of the Baskervilles' territory were home to quite a few such beasts.

Did all the seeds dry up after Hugo moved his family to the lower reaches of the Red and Black Mountains?

Hugo told him of his methods of extermination.

'I didn't use much force. Anyone with the time could have done it. Even if you're just a criminal.'

Hugo said he left chunks of meat all over the mountain.

He didn't use poison or traps. The smell of poison or iron would only make the enemy more wary.

The chunks of meat scattered throughout the beast's territory were seasoned.

The fatty, cholesterol-rich meat was selected from the fatty parts, stir-fried and deep-fried, and scattered throughout the beast's hunting grounds.

Even the beasts that were initially wary of the meat chunks would eventually eat them if they saw them laid out all over the hunting trail.

The amazingly delicious chunks of meat keep coming. They're everywhere.

You don't have to go hunting, you just have to set foot on a trail and you'll always have access to those fatty, delicious chunks of meat.

It's a life of lying down and sleeping, then waking up when you're hungry, following the scent, and picking up chunks of meat.

This goes on for a while. In the meantime, the beast gains weight. It develops a belly and wrinkles.

Its claws, always sharpened as it runs across the land, and its teeth, sharpened by breaking prey's bones and soaking in blood, become dull.

His ears and eyes, which allowed him to sense the signs of his prey from miles away, have grown fat and dull.

A fleshy underbelly and fatty intestines weigh it down.

'Now is the time to hunt.'

When the beast has completely lost its wildness, the hardened hounds of the Baskervilles break their leashes and run.

And from that day forward, the territory changes hands.

In this way, Baskerville, the iron-blooded swordsman, would eliminate his enemies and the beasts of the Black Mountain, one by one.

'... The principle of this floor is the same.'

Vikir closed the catalog.

'The reason this floor is dangerous is not because of the presence of life-threatening demons or traps.

Rather, it is the certainty that there is none.

It's so peaceful and relaxing that everything you've been through seems like a nightmare.

Conveniences that are only a small price to pay for the stats you've worked so hard to accumulate.

Once you leave, not only will you never return, but you'll face missions that are ten times harder than anything you've ever faced before.

And the ability to send letters to people outside the tower is another reason to stay.

The chance to let your family, friends, and loved ones know you're okay, even if they're probably crying right now.

Even better, you can write back to them!

This is what keeps challengers on this floor.

As you stay, you'll spend more and more candy in your stats.

Little by little, like clothes soaked in a drizzle.

Once they're gone, they'll never come back.

Your strength, agility, and stamina... will decrease by a further level.

Outside of this floor, you can spit out candies of the stats you've already eaten, and they'll give you back more candies, so there's no reason not to exchange them.

The longer you stay here, the faster and more rapidly the challenger will weaken.

Weakened in body and mind, the challenger will eventually be unable to descend to the next level and will remain here for life.

A prison without bars.

The challengers of the tower, whose bodies were locked up but not their minds, will eventually find their minds locked up here as well.

Of their own volition!

'Here I will grow fat, old, and weak. content to exchange letters with people outside the tower for the rest of my life.'

If someone else clears the tower, even if it's not you, you'll automatically leave this floor and go outside.

'It doesn't have to be me...'

As a result of this psychology, challengers become even more unable to escape this floor.

'Besides... there must be hidden traps here.'

Vikir turned his head in silence and looked at the screen in the corner of his eye.

<※ A small perk for all the trouble you've taken to get here: send a message to a figure outside the tower who will be anxiously awaiting my return!>

<※ A 'letter item', originally worth the price of a single golden candy, will be given away for free once a month to residents of this floor!>

It was equipped with the ability to send letters outside the tower.

Vikir boldly pressed the send button.

Suddenly, words appeared out of thin air.

[To. Sergeant Janet, 1st Platoon, 4th Company, 207th Regiment].

[I miss you, comrade. Are you getting along well there?]

Vikir sent the letter.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Vikir spent the one golden candy he had and opened the reply.

[From. Sergeant Janet, 1st Platoon, 4th Company, 207th Regiment]. [Company Commander, is that you Company Commander Vikir, are you alive, where are you, everyone is waiting for you, we thought you were alive after all, everyone at the front says you can't be dead...]

Vikir slammed the letter shut without another look.

'It's a trap after all.'

The seasoned Vikir saw through all the oddities in the letter.

For one thing, Sergeant Janet is a person from a time before the regression, a time in which she had already been executed.

And at this point in time, Sergeant Janet would be living as a normal, wealthy family figure with the support of Cindy Wendy.

This is because the future has changed.

In other words, the Sergeant Janet that Vikir remembers no longer exists in either world.

Nevertheless, the immediacy of the reply means that....

'A trick.'

The ability to lure people into a false sense of security, to make them feel safe and secure in the knowledge that they are in touch with someone they care about.

...But all of this is false.

The letters are replies written by a demon who has read the letter, picked through the memories and emotions of the writer, and cherry-picked what they wanted to hear as much as possible.

'With the restriction of once a month, I can only write down the words I need to send to the people who really need them, and all the emotions of longing and longing are read by the demon fairy.'

And now, a letter ghostwritten by a demon will make the challengers in the tower complacent.

Once they reach the next floor, even this small exchange of communication will be impossible.

'Being petty and cowardly is exactly the strategy of the demons.'

Vikir grunted and pushed himself up.

With no one waiting for him outside the tower, no one to miss him, Vikir could leave this floor without any regrets.

'...but I will only remain here until I regain my strength and magic.'

Even now, the wound was regenerating at a rapid pace.

Madame cub and Decarabia are also sleeping comfortably under the bed, so they will open their eyes soon.

'...But who moved me to the bed?'

Vikir suddenly realized something was wrong.

"Whoa? you're awake."

A voice said from beside him.

Where Vikir turned his head, there stood a female student with a familiar face.

Dolores. The student council president of Colosseo Academy stood across the bed from Vikir, staring at him.

Suddenly, Vikir realized something else he had forgotten.

'Yes. There's always a male and female on this floor.'

To ensure that those imprisoned on this floor don't go mad with loneliness and try to escape, the demons always place another prisoner here.

So that the two can become friends and remain here.

Dolores had apparently entered this floor before Vikir.

She stroked the wound on Vikir's forehead sympathetically.

"You should lie down a little longer, there are almost no external injuries, but the internal injuries are severe."

Vikir was momentarily flustered by Dolores' casual approach.

'...What?'

Was he now in the state of a Night Hound? Or Vikir, a first-year student at Colosseo Academy?

Judging by her half-speech, she's talking to Vikir, a first-year student at Colosseo Academy.

However, the affectionate look she's giving him right now is definitely that of a Night Hound.

'...No way. Has she found out who I am?'

Vikir scrambles to his feet.

Dolores pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Uh-huh, This guy! You're not listening to me when I tell you to lie down a little longer!"

At the same time, she slipped her hands under Vikir's sides and lifted him up.

In an instant, Vikir's reflection appeared in Dolores' large, clear eyes.

It was neither Vikir nor Night Hound.

"Listen to your sister, Choco, before I have you neutered."

Choco, Peanutblack's hound.

It was Vikir's third identity.