Chapter 125: Why Does This Cat Have Two Faces?

The maddening whispers of the Crimson Troupe clawed at the edges of Phantom’s fracturing mind. He hadn’t completely lost consciousness yet, but the world around him had deteriorated into a smeared canvas of shadows and blood. Through the haze, he sensed someone approaching—a blurry figure draped in a familiar purple-and-white coat.

He vaguely remembered a companion from the Troupe, one who still clung to a fragile sliver of sanity, wearing those exact colors. That person was incredibly weak; if they collided with his current, frenzied self, they would undoubtedly die.

Phantom instinctively tried to swerve his body to brush past the figure. But instead of taking the chance to move away, the white-and-purple shape took a clumsy step forward, stepping directly into his path.

Gritting his teeth, Phantom tried his absolute best to control his twitching muscles, shifting his dash in the opposite direction.

The purple-and-white shape, possessing absolutely zero spatial awareness, mirrored his movement and shifted to the other side as well, coincidentally blocking his path once more in an awkward hallway dance.

The meager scraps of sanity Phantom had left were completely exhausted. Why? Why are you blocking my path? Then stay within my art together…

Just as his bloodlust peaked, the purple-and-white blob suddenly squirmed. The larger mass of the coat was abruptly hoisted up by a smaller figure behind it, and at the exact same time, the blob emitted a bizarre, undignified yelp that sounded suspiciously like…

“G-Gie-zhu-da-you?!”

Phantom tilted his blade, fighting his own murderous instincts to hold back against the strange blob. He would not become the mindless butcher Bacchus wished him to be.

He held back. But Shalem absolutely did not!

The six-hit burst of his Arts erupted with catastrophic force. A tidal wave of relic buffs triggered simultaneously, raining down upon the battlefield in a blinding kaleidoscope of visual effects—Avenger, Painful Happiness, Second Economic Reform Act, The Great Silence, Crown of Kings, Fortress Protocol – Phalanx, Iron Guard – Breakthrough, Godmother’s Token, Emergency Revitalizer, Agonizing Pleasure, Minosian Hymn, Rusted Blade, Mercenary’s Ornament…

‘Please, let it end quickly—’Without a single moment of hesitation, a blinding white light instantly swallowed Phantom’s entire vision. Under the sheer mathematical violence of so many stacked relics, his innate ability to escape into the shadows to avoid damage was completely overridden. At best, the evasion mechanic changed his fate from’falling asleep instantly’to’falling asleep while twitching.’

You nodded, watching with immense satisfaction as the PRTS tactical overlay projected Phantom’s HP bar. The boss’s health melted into a microscopic, barely visible sliver of red before he could even initiate an attack animation.

In the face of overwhelming death pressure, even a nearly maddened Phantom subconsciously altered his movements, turning a sweeping slash into a desperate thrust. With a flash of dark Arts, he used his last ounce of strength to slip past the white-and-purple blob, narrowly avoiding the next fatal basic attack.

Danger, run—no, the art of death has not yet been practiced; they have defiled death…

The primal instinct for survival violently clashed with the frenzied pursuit of art, and for a terrifying moment, Phantom lost his sense of direction. The urge to kill was already difficult enough for his fraying sanity to suppress; the conflicting commands of ‘kill them’and’leave this place’ tore his left and right brain apart. Phantom stumbled, his legs refusing to follow orders, sending him pitching forward toward the cold floor.

But he didn’t fall. Someone caught him, completely disregarding the filthy bloodstains soaking his clothes and the squirming, out-of-control shadows bleeding from his silhouette.

“Don’t be nervous, Phantom.” The voice was smooth, commanding, yet deeply reassuring. “Losing control isn’t something you need to suppress every waking second… We can handle the burden. You’re simply out of strength. Don’t overthink it; as long as you stay by my side, everything will be fine.”

Phantom used his last bit of strength to tightly grasp the fabric of the person holding him. After finally feeling the soft, grounding touch of reality against his face, he stopped fighting his own mind and fainted with overwhelming relief.

This was the first time someone had ever offered to shoulder the price of his madness for him. Even if it was just a dying hallucination, he would gladly accept it.

You calmly pulled back your coat, mentally mourning the five fresh claw holes punctured through the expensive fabric. With a casual shrug, you shifted the unconscious Feline onto Steward’s waiting shoulder. You then looked over at Rosmontis, who was methodically clearing out the last few straggling Shieldguards.

“A great harvest! We can prepare to return to the landship.”

“Going home!” Steward was the first to cheer, adjusting the heavy assassin on his back. Yato helplessly raised her hand in a symbolic, quiet wave. Rosmontis was far too focused on commanding her massive tactical equipment to hear what was said, but the Playwright quite craftily followed up with a couple of agreeable hums, flawlessly blending into the ‘Rhodes Island is my home’ corporate environment.

Shalem didn’t say a single word. He just stood there, staring blankly at his own hands, utterly paralyzed by the shock of having just ‘soloed’ Phantom.

When did I get this overpowered?!

“Let’s go, Shalem!” The Doctor’s call from afar finally snapped him out of his existential daze. Turning his head, he saw that the Doctor had somehow already sprinted out of the defensive formation with Steward and was currently—with absolute death-defying audacity—poking at Phantom’s feral claws.

“Doctor, stay away from him!” Shalem was terrified. He knew all too well the massive power gap between the Troupe’s deadliest assassin and his fragile new superior.

Thanks to the Troupe’s rigorous and torturous conditioning, even an unconscious Phantom would subconsciously retaliate indiscriminately… right?

Phantom, whose paw pads were currently being squished, showed absolutely zero signs of a stress response. Instead, like a harmless domestic kitten, he let out a couple of soft, unconscious whimpers, rubbed his cheek affectionately against Steward’s collar, and after failing to retract his claws, simply tilted his head and went right back to sleep.

Shalem:…

Colleague, you actually have two faces?!

You definitely weren’t acting like this back at the Troupe when you were laughing maniacally and shredding everyone in sight!

Nearby, the pink leopard cub finally decided to jump out of your arms. It wagged its tail and sat stubbornly in the corner of the stage. It could not leave the Castle.

Miss Christine, however, slipped out from the shadows and unceremoniously climbed right into your arms, immediately claiming Bacchus’s original spot. The elegant black cat then looked down at the pink creature provocatively and began licking her paw.

Bacchus:…

Considering that having both a cat and a dog-like creature fighting for attention in this environment was far too conspicuous, Bacchus endured the insult.

The grueling journey through the Castle had finally come to an end. Pushing open the final set of heavy iron doors, blinding daylight suddenly flooded the corridor.

After so many long, suffocating years, sunlight crossed the threshold of the Castle for the first time. Shalem was momentarily blinded by the glare. He cautiously reached out, feeling the genuine warmth of the outside air against the back of his hand.

Only then did he dare to truly believe that he was free.

Your Base Vehicle was parked safely outside the gates. The transport that had felt so empty with only four people when you first arrived was now packed to the brim.

Bacchus sat at the Castle entrance, watching you without blinking. The creature silently mouthed the words:

Safe. Travels. To. You.

The next time you met would probably be when Phantom had grown enough to fully master his terrifying power.

“Doctor, aren’t we taking it with us?” Shalem looked back at the pink curly-haired dog sitting at the threshold and suddenly felt a rare pang of conscience.

“Actually, if you want, bringing it along wouldn’t be an issue.” You stroked your chin thoughtfully. “It’s just that the Troupe’s pets probably haven’t been neutered yet…”

The solemn, emotional atmosphere of parting instantly vanished without a trace. The pink leopard cub stared at Shalem in absolute shock, revealing genuine murderous intent for the very first time.

He’s never going to stop ruining the mood, is he?!

You helplessly massaged your forehead and once again solemnly warned your new operator. “In the future, Shalem, you must never, ever come back here alone. Can you promise me that?”

Shalem looked somewhat confused. “Why would I come back? I’m not a masochist!”

“Don’t worry about the details for now, just promise me!”

“Fine… but there’s one more thing, Doctor,” he spoke hesitantly, his tone dropping into an awkward register.

“What is it?”

Shalem awkwardly waved a piece of broken machinery in his hand. “I think I snapped this off the vehicle when I was getting in. What should I do with it?”

You stared at the dark, rectangular object. Was it a light-blocking strip from the Castle exterior? Did you usually use this mop-like thing to block the sun?

You fell completely silent, your eyes locked onto the shattered metal casing and the frayed, exposed wires dangling from Shalem’s grip. It took a very long time before you could finally force the words out of your mouth.

“…That’s the GPS.”

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]