Chapter 34
I had courted Randolph countless times, but I had never heard a line like that before, and a wave of unease rushed over me.
And when it came to this kind of intuition—I tended to trust it.
I really want to run.
My body kept flinching, perhaps because the desire was so strong.
As I stood frozen, unsure what to do, the perverted lunatic looked me in the eye with unsettling seriousness and declared:
“You must join me in assassinating the Emperor and purging this absurd world overrun by the greedy and corrupt.”
…Excuse me? Why me?
For a second, I thought I’d misheard him.
Was this guy responding to nonsense with more nonsense?
“What… what do you mean?”
“Just as I said. The path to punishing the selfish will be one we walk together. This is no longer a contract—it’s my decision.”
My head began to throb.
Assassinate the Emperor?
From that “not a contract” line, I could tell Randolph had come to assassinate the Emperor from the start. But I couldn’t make sense of it.
In Arc, large-scale events almost never overlapped with other major ones.
And assassinating the Emperor would count as a huge event. In all my time playing Arc, something like this had never happened. The Emperor had always just been a background figure—never the focus.
Or maybe I didn’t realize it, but the Emperor was actually seriously injured during the Spring Ball in the original story? And that’s why he stayed a background character…
As my thoughts spiraled, Randolph’s cold voice interrupted.
“I see you have no interest in joining me.”
“N-no, I mean, this is important so I just have a few questions…”
“What is it?”
“From what you said, it sounds like you took a contract to assassinate the Emperor. Who gave you that contract?”
At my question, he firmly replied:
“I can’t tell you.”
“You want me to join such a grand cause, but you can’t tell me who’s behind it? How does that make sense?”
Maybe the persuasion buff helped—Randolph looked hesitant, as if contemplating his answer.
Then, he said flatly:
“When I say I can’t tell you, I mean I literally don’t know. The client wore a mask.”
“You accepted an assassination contract on the Emperor from an anonymous masked person…?”
“The price was more than sufficient. And if the client’s information isn’t essential to eliminating the target, we don’t bother collecting it.”
I tried not to, but a curse almost erupted from my throat.
What the actual hell, you brain-dead lunatic? What kind of assassin accepts a royal assassination request from a masked stranger just because the money’s good?
As I reeled in disbelief, Randolph picked up the twin swords he had lowered earlier—this time aiming them directly at my neck.
“So… will you help me? Now that I’ve told you this much, if you refuse, death is the only thing I can give you.”
It was a ruthless declaration that didn’t account for my condition, but I couldn’t deny that it made sense.
He wasn’t a fool. He wouldn’t just spill everything and let me walk away.
Staring at the cold blade, I raised my hands and swallowed hard.
The persuasion boost had saved me once, but now I was at another unavoidable fork in the road. If I chose wrong this time…
I’m seriously screwed.
At the same time, I became genuinely curious.
Where did Arc’s storyline—something I knew like the back of my hand—start to go off track?
I need to find out.
If things were happening that I didn’t know about, for whatever reason, then the foundation I’d been relying on to avoid death endings was cracking.
Ugh, now what? If I want to survive, I might have to say I’ll help assassinate the Emperor, but if I get tangled in this and it goes wrong, I’ll be hanged before I ever reach an ending.
In other words, it was a fast-track to a ruined life.
As I agonized over the decision, one thing suddenly came to mind—the enchanted note in my pocket.
“U-um… could I at least leave a will?”
We had been speaking casually because of the class difference when we first met, but I made sure to speak respectfully before making a request.
It might seem laughable how quickly I shifted tone, but I couldn’t exactly pull out the enchanted note and call for help right in front of him.
“You’re choosing death, then?”
If I agreed, this efficient lunatic might kill me instantly to save time—he was just that kind of guy.
So I decided to lean on my persuasion stat again.
“No, not at all. It’s just… I think writing a will might help me clarify how I really feel.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ha… ha ha. You see, I believe writing it out might help clear my thoughts, and once I’m clear, I’ll know what path I want to take. That way, I can face the future with certainty. It’ll only take five minutes—surely you can spare that? If you just kill me now, I won’t even get to blink again…”
Maybe my desperate babbling touched something in him, because—
Randolph nodded.
“I’ll give you five minutes.”
Even the system responded unexpectedly:
[SYSTEM] Persuasion is working effectively.
‘Shapeshifter Randolph’ is impressed by your logical reasoning!
Persuasion +1
Thank you.
Not that it matters much when I’m a breath away from dying.
Still, earning time was a relief. Of course, it wasn’t because I intended to side with this lunatic.
Sure, I’d probably get more insider info if I stuck with him…
But in this world, if I died—it was unknown what would happen. In reality, death just meant restarting the game, but here? Too risky.
Even I, an adventurous player who once braved everything, had learned caution after nearly drowning in sewer water.
“Ahem.”
Pretending the enchanted paper was a normal sheet, I pulled it from my coat and picked up the pen near the duty log, carefully writing my fake will.
Trying my best to ignore Randolph’s piercing gaze as he studied my every move.
But then—
“Time’s up. Have you decided?”
The five minutes I had been given to write the fake will had flown by.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“Th-the thing is…”
The decision was already made.
But…
There’s no way I can say it!
What now?
As I stood silently, lips parted but voiceless, Randolph watched me intently—and then, with a cold tone, spoke:
“I had hoped I’d found someone to stand with me against this absurd world. How disappointing.”
…Damn it. That’s a death flag, isn’t it?
“Wait! Something this important—how can I decide after only five minutes—!”
“I’ve given you more than enough time.”
Things had escalated this far, and now—even with my persuasion buff—nothing was working!
Damn it. What now?
