The 100th Regression of the Max-Level Player - Chapter 150

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Maxed-Out Player’s 100th Return – Episode 150
150. This Is My Answer
“How did you know my face?”
Al-Baghdadi was puzzled.
They had never met, and he had no information about the other party—so how could this person possibly know what he looked like?
‘I made sure Abubakar and absolutely no one else could take my photograph.’
He waited with intense curiosity, but the answer that came back was absurd.
“Just like that.”
“What?”
“I can just tell.”
In his younger days, he would have opened fire at such an answer, but Al-Baghdadi possessed patience now.
“You’re trying to provoke me, but it won’t work. I’m not so inexperienced that I’d fall for such tricks….”
“Stop spouting nonsense and say what you came here to say. I’ll give you the chance to speak.”
The arrogance was boundless, yet he still restrained himself.
He was the leader of IS.
He was not so naive as to be manipulated by such tactics.
“Impressive resolve. To show such insolence before so many of my people.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Actually, the reason I answered your summons is because I have a proposal for you.”
“Let’s hear it then.”
Al-Baghdadi spoke directly, paying no mind to the eyes of the surrounding players.
“Come under my command. Devote yourself to IS and dedicate yourself to Allah. Then you need not worry about the next round. You need not tremble in fear. The one true Allah will show you the way.”
“….”
Unlike Ryu Min, who showed no reaction, Victor, who was listening from his hiding place in the building, had to cover his gaping mouth in shock.
‘W-what did I just hear? Did he just ask him to join IS?’
In short, Al-Baghdadi was making a recruitment proposal to Black Scythe.
“What do you say? To surrender yourself to Allah and enjoy eternal life?”
“You mean surrender to you, not Allah. And a tiger can’t serve under a cat, can it?”
“A tiger…. Do you truly believe you possess such stature?”
“Maybe not. But one thing I’m certain of—the rat calling himself the leader of IS is nothing but a mouse hiding behind substitutes. Anyone with eyes would see that.”
“Ha. I’ll give you credit for your sharp tongue at least.”
Al-Baghdadi finally lost his patience, his brow furrowing.
“Are you truly unwilling to serve under me?”
“How many times must I say it? Can’t you understand words? Then shall I show you through action?”
Ryu Min’s scythe flashed in an instant, severing Abubakar’s neck.
Thud—
The leader of Boko Haram had taken his final journey in a single moment.
“This is my answer. You rat.”
“So you never intended to use him as a hostage.”
Al-Baghdadi turned away, speaking as though there was nothing left worth discussing.
“Let’s see if your skills match that big mouth of yours.”
As I stepped into the crowd, players surged forward to encircle me.
“Kill him. Don’t leave a shred of flesh.”
The moment that order fell, hundreds rushed toward me.
Watching the Mob Organization members wielding their weapons, I smiled beneath my mask.
‘Just as expected—they brought only players.’
If they’d been ordinary members, I would have slaughtered them without hesitation. But knowing they were players, I decided to show some restraint.
‘They’re basically just items anyway. It would be wasteful to kill them too quickly.’
The players were fortunate, in a sense.
I had decided to take my time with them.
* * *
Victor, watching from his hiding place in the building, clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.
His palms had already grown slick with sweat.
‘Has it finally begun? I’m so tense I can barely breathe.’
Black Scythe’s abilities were trustworthy, but anything could happen.
Variables could emerge.
‘Huh?’
But something struck him as odd.
Among all the gathered Mob Organization members, not a single one carried a gun.
They all wore antiquated clothing and wielded melee weapons instead.
Victor’s eyes widened as the realization hit him belatedly.
‘Wait… could they all be players?’
He couldn’t be certain, but there appeared to be roughly five hundred of them.
‘There are this many players devoted to IS?’
Goosebumps erupted across his skin.
He could barely handle one or two opponents himself, yet there were nearly five hundred here.
‘Will Black Scythe be alright? They’re not ordinary people—they’re players.’
He could hear the clang of weapons colliding—ching, ching, ching—but the angle prevented him from seeing the actual combat.
He couldn’t tell if the fight was going well or poorly.
Victor turned his gaze toward the Asian Woman who appeared to be Black Scythe’s companion.
“What is your name? What your name?”
Yamtti, who understood simple English, answered.
“Me? Yamtti. My name is Yamtti.”
“Yamtti? Okay. Yamtti. Do you think Black Scythe can win? What’s your assessment?”
“What are you saying? Sigh…”
Yamtti let out a sigh as the conversation stalled.
“Listen, Alchemist. You won’t understand, but I’m frustrated enough to speak anyway. Your expression shows you’re anxious, but trust Black Scythe. There’s nothing we can do to help. All we can do is wait here quietly for the IS leader to arrive.”
“What? IS? You mean IS might come?”
Victor, catching the word IS, pressed further, and Yamtti began explaining in a rambling manner.
“Black Scythe told us to wait because the IS leader would be delivered here. So don’t worry. Once we capture the IS leader, there won’t be any problems.”
I told him not to worry, but for some reason, Victor’s expression looked even darker than before.
* * *
Clang clang clang—!
Crash— bang bang!
A torrent of skills poured down upon a single target.
No matter how high the level, it should be impossible to evade skills raining down from all directions.
That’s what I thought.
Until I saw it with my own eyes.
‘Still holding out?’
Al-Baghdadi checked the time with astonished eyes.
Five minutes had passed.
Normally, death would be the expected outcome.
Yet instead of a corpse, he was still fighting vigorously.
‘So he really is the number one ranked player?’
Al-Baghdadi had brought five hundred soldiers out of eight hundred.
All of them were players.
‘A player must be countered by a player.’
It was a judgment that even if they died, it was better for a player with limited time to fall rather than a regular soldier.
There was also the judgment that this force would be sufficient to kill him.
That’s what I thought back then.
But my thinking has changed now.
‘Even with this many troops, it’s still not enough?’
I knew that most were level forty, so the level gap was significant.
But I never expected that hundreds of soldiers couldn’t even scratch a single person.
‘I intended to kill him if I couldn’t capture him. Yet even that proves difficult.’
This is dangerous.
Letting that bastard live.
I must burn every player if necessary and tear him to shreds right here.
‘At least he seems to be struggling quite a bit too.’
The opponent was only defending with his scythe and hadn’t counterattacked at all.
He seemed entirely focused on blocking and evading.
‘As time passes, the tide will turn. As long as he’s human, his stamina isn’t infinite.’
But as the battle dragged on, there were no signs of improvement.
It was simply remarkable that no casualties had occurred.
Of course, it’s five hundred to one, but the number of people actually engaging is limited.
‘But even so, it’s impressive. Blocking and evading cleanly despite dozens attacking simultaneously.’
With that level of skill, he could truly dodge bullets.
A player who dodges bullets becomes a subordinate?
Desire was inevitable.
‘If he had sworn loyalty to Allah, I would have immediately offered him Abubakar’s position… What a shame.’
Perhaps he was the sort of talent who could have orchestrated an attack on the White House itself, yet it was regrettable that I had no choice but to kill him here.
‘What now? I need to kill him, but his skills are formidable.’
Al-Baghdadi, who had been watching Black Scythe still engaged in combat, suddenly felt his entire body break out in goosebumps.
It was because their eyes had met in the midst of the battle.
‘He has the leisure to look at me?’
In that moment of inner astonishment.
Thunk—thunk thunk—thunk!
The sound of flesh tearing and weapons piercing through echoed out.
Indeed, Black Scythe had been skewered like a shish kebab by the other players and died.
“We killed Black Scythe!”
The victorious players erupted in cheers.
Al-Baghdadi’s eyes bulged from their sockets.
The one who had defended so well until now had died in a single moment of carelessness?
‘Did he meet his end because he looked at me?’
The shock quickly transformed into a smile.
Fortunately, a troublesome obstacle that might have posed a future threat had died.
“Kekeke, so the number one ranked player was nothing special after all. Dying like an idiot because he got distracted.”
Just as mockery spread across his face.
“Ugh!”
Someone seized the back of his neck.
Al-Baghdadi, pulled by tremendous force, soared into the air.
Crash—!
He burst through a building’s window and crashed inside, clutching his waist and groaning.
“Ow….”
It was as though someone had grabbed him and hurled him into the building.
“Ugh, what in the….”
In that instant.
Whoosh—
Al-Baghdadi’s expression froze solid as he witnessed the figure materializing from thin air.
None other than Black Scythe, whom he had thought was dead like a skewered corpse, stood before him.
“Black Scythe!”
Watching Victor and Yamtti express their delight, I smiled with satisfaction.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’d deliver him if you waited.”
I pointed at Al-Baghdadi and issued my command.
“Dominate him.”
* * *
The players snickered as they watched Black Scythe, pierced by dozens of blades and spraying blood, writhe before them.
“We killed him, we finally killed the infidel.”
“We, we killed Black Scythe!”
Those who had already sworn allegiance to IS long before the world fell into this state had been reborn as even stronger warriors called players.
He became God’s warrior, acting in Allah’s name to punish the infidels.
And he had killed Black Scythe, IS’s greatest adversary.
Smiles bloomed across every member’s face.
But it was short-lived.
“Huh?”
In an instant, Black Scythe’s corpse vanished like a mirage.
Unaware it was a clone, they frantically searched for the body with bewildered expressions.
“What happened?”
“Did someone accidentally use a trace-erasing skill?”
“If you did, confess honestly!”
They were consumed with searching for the corpse.
They should have been searching for Al-Baghdadi’s whereabouts instead of the body.
It was only natural—everyone had been so fixated on Black Scythe that they hadn’t seen Al-Baghdadi fly away.
Then Al-Baghdadi appeared from somewhere.
“What’s all this commotion?”
“Ah, our leader.”
As IS’s leader approached, the players lowered their weapons and parted like the Red Sea.
“Why all this noise?”
“We eliminated Black Scythe just moments ago, but for some reason, the body disappeared.”
“So what?”
“Sir?”
“The disappearance of the body doesn’t matter. What matters is that you killed Black Scythe, regardless.”
Al-Baghdadi declared victory with a broad smile.
“You have eliminated our organization’s greatest obstacle. You, the proud warriors of Allah!”
“Waaaaah!”
“Allah! Today we have removed the obstacle! Please praise us!”
“Thank you for always protecting us!”
“We’ve taken another step toward paradise!”
Al-Baghdadi smiled benevolently as if granting them permission to rejoice, then raised his hand to silence the crowd.
“Now that Black Scythe is gone, only the execution of our cause remains. Before that, we must redistribute items, so place all your equipped gear and inventory items on the ground. Every single one, without exception!”
“Yes!”
The IS leader’s command was absolute.
If he said die, they died; if he said live, they lived; if he said give, they gave.
Since he claimed the items were being collected and redistributed for the terror attack being prepared, it was a reason they could accept.
So the players complied.
They stripped off their equipped gear and scraped out every item in their inventories.
Soon the Clearing transformed into a sea of items.
With over 500 people laying down just their equipped gear, more than 3,000 items accumulated.
“Those who have laid down their items, move to the side!”
Once they were stripped bare, Al-Baghdadi moved the members to the adjacent Clearing.
It was a measure to prevent them from recovering the items again.
Because….
“Well done. Now you must die.”
“What?”
They had to die by Black Scythe’s hand.
As Al-Baghdadi chuckled to himself, a sound came from somewhere.
Kiiiiiing—
It was a clear, crystalline sound.
At the same time, brilliant light engulfed the players in rapid succession.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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