The Marquis's throne room was so quiet that Chen could hear the rhythmic drip-drip of blood-infused nectar falling from the chandeliers. Kael remained pressed to the floor, sweating through his silver leather, while Chen stood there, looking like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult math problem in his head.
System, Chen screamed internally, while keeping his face as blank as a fresh sheet of parchment. Level. Now. And don't give me that 'Data Restricted' garbage. I'm currently being sniffed by a Gold-Rank vampire who looks like he's deciding between sautéing me or eating me raw.
[System: Apocalyptic Guide]
[User: Chen]
[Current Level: 6 (Bronze)]
[Progress to Level 7: 84%]
[Status: Extreme Danger. Marquis Malphas is currently analyzing your cellular density.]
"Six?!" Chen mentally shrieked. "I killed a Script-Stalker and ran a marathon from three hundred Pales! I should be at least a Silver by now. How the hell am I supposed to survive a Level 45 Gold-Rank with the combat stats of a wet noodle?"
[Answer: You are not currently expected to survive through direct combat. Suggestion: Utilize your 'Martial Awareness' to feign weakness and your 'Gilded Folding Fan' to redirect the Marquis's attention. Your progress is slow because your 'Sovereign' body requires ten times more experience to stabilize than a normal human's.]
"Oh, great. I'm a luxury model that's out of gas," Chen muttered under his breath.
Marquis Malphas leaned in closer, his nostrils flaring. "What did you say, little dust-mite?"
Chen blinked, his violet eyes wide and innocent. "I said... I said your chair is very shiny, Mister Marquis. But it looks a bit uncomfortable. Do you have a cushion? My lower back is killing me from all the running."
Kael's head hit the floor with a thud. "My Lord! Please forgive his insolence! He is clearly brain-damaged from the Dead Zone!"
The Marquis paused, his hand—claws sharp and translucent like rubies—hovering near Chen's neck. He laughed, a sound like dry leaves skittering across a tombstone.
"Insolence? No, Kael. This is either profound stupidity or a courage that borders on the divine. I haven't decided which yet."
Malphas turned, swirling his velvet robes.
"Kael says you dodged a Silver-Rank horde with 'luck.' I do not believe in luck. I believe in variables. Tonight, we shall test yours. Guards!"
Chen was led (read: dragged) through a series of winding corridors to the Spire's Pit, a circular arena surrounded by high-rising tiers of seats where the Sanguine Aristocracy sat, holding lace handkerchiefs to their noses.
[New Sub-Scenario: The Marquis's Amusement]
[Objective: Survive 3 rounds against the 'Pit Hounds.']
[Constraint: Do not exceed Level 10 output. If you show 'Saint' level movements, the Marquis will execute you immediately.]
"Three rounds?" Chen whispered, snapping his fan open to hide his grimace. "System, what are Pit Hounds?"
[Entity Identified: Pit Hound (Silver - Level 12)]
[Description: Lycans injected with Sanguine adrenaline. They are fast, blind, and hunt via heat signatures.]
Chen looked down into the pit. Three massive, skinless wolves were pacing the sand, their muscles twitching with unnatural energy.
"Okay, System," Chen sighed, his violet eyes darkening. "If I have to be a 'Pillar,' I might as well be a Pillar that hits back. Give me a rate of progress update if I clear this."
[Calculation: Clearing 3 rounds while maintaining 'Bronze' disguise will grant +4 Levels and unlock the 'Salted Fish's First Strike' technique.]
"Level 10, here I come," Chen muttered.
The Marquis raised a hand from his balcony. "Let the variable show us his worth. Release the hounds."
The iron gates of the pit screeched open. Chen stood in the center, a boy in a dusty hoodie holding a silk fan, while three Silver-Rank monsters lunged with enough force to shatter stone.
Gary, Chen thought as he swayed to the left, his movements a blur of calculated clumsiness. I really hope you're taking notes. This is the last time I do my own stunts.