The 100th Regression of the Max-Level Player - Chapter 194

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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 194
194. Withdrawal
The method Dark Soul had proposed to draw out Black Scythe was remarkably simple.
Deliberately commit crimes to trigger a Counter Player Force response, capture one of their members, and use them as bait to lure him out.
With a squad member as bait, they could summon Black Scythe, the squad commander.
-To accomplish this, we’ll divide into three teams of four members each: Brix Team, First Warrior Team, and our team. This approach will be far more efficient than moving together.
The Spaniard, who had spoken those words, came to regret them within just one hour of the operation’s start.
Contact with Brix Team had been lost.
“Spaniard. Still no word from them?”
“No. They won’t answer their phones, no matter how many times I call.”
Just twenty minutes ago, First Warrior Team had made contact.
Black Scythe was heading their way—they needed to regroup.
The Spaniard, who had promised to reach out to Brix Team himself, now found himself in an awkward predicament.
He’d called them repeatedly, but they still refused to pick up.
“Brix Team won’t answer?”
“No.”
“Maybe they’re too busy rescuing the hostage?”
“Even so, I’ve called dozens of times. This doesn’t make sense.”
“Try contacting the other members.”
“I already did, but I’ll try again. Just to be sure.”
At Yang Chui-wen’s suggestion, the Spaniard dialed again, only to shake his head.
Still no answer.
“All four of them are unreachable. Something’s wrong. Brix Team must have run into trouble.”
“Damn it, we need to link up before Black Scythe arrives. Why the hell aren’t they answering?”
“I don’t know. Let’s head to First Warrior Team’s location for now.”
The four of them weaved through the Alley once more.
Brix Team could wait—they needed to reach the location where Black Scythe had supposedly been lured.
Only then could they join forces with First Warrior Team and strike him down.
Yet when they arrived at the scene, there was nothing to be seen.
“Is this the right place?”
“Based on the address they sent, it should be….”
“Call them.”
The Spaniard tried calling First Warrior, but there was no response.
“They won’t answer.”
“If these bastards aren’t going to answer, why do they even carry phones?”
Yang Chui-wen’s irritation was evident, but they remained ignorant of the truth.
They didn’t know that First Warrior Team had already died in this very Alley.
That Brix Team had already been killed by Ju Sung-tak.
Yet someone had anticipated the truth.
“Could he have already come and gone?”
“What are you talking about, John?”
Yang Chui-wen asked, and John Delgado replied with an obvious expression.
“Black Scythe. I suspect he came first and annihilated the team.”
“What?”
“Black Scythe?”
It was a plausible theory, but Yang Chui-wen merely scoffed.
“That’s nonsense.”
“Why is it nonsense?”
“Black Scythe killed the entire First Warrior team? Then where are the bodies? Why isn’t there a trace of them anywhere?”
“He must have erased all evidence.”
“Even so, could there be absolutely no traces like this? Look around. There’s no broken wall, no sign of combat whatsoever.”
“It wasn’t a fight.”
“Then what?”
“A one-sided massacre.”
John’s expression was grave.
Not a hint of jest colored his words—he genuinely believed this.
“Is Black Scythe really that strong?”
“Strong. Strong enough that all twelve of us would barely have a chance against him.”
“Unbelievable….”
Yang Chui-wen’s face showed disbelief, but he couldn’t quite refute it.
Only the Necromancer had experienced Black Scythe’s true power.
The Spaniard’s expression grew serious as he listened—this was no idle speculation.
“If the First Warrior team fell as you suggest, the other teams are in danger as well.”
“Could it be that Brix Team isn’t responding because they’ve already been eliminated?”
“Is that even possible? We got picked off one by one by Black Scythe in such a short time?”
“He has more than enough capability for that. In the worst case, only the four of us have survived.”
“This is insane.”
“I apologize. This is my oversight. We should have stayed together instead of splitting into teams.”
Worry etched itself across the Apostles’ faces.
That was when it happened.
“Huh?”
Dark Soul, who habitually kept his detection skill active, spotted a red dot approaching and issued a warning.
“Someone’s coming from that direction.”
Footsteps echoed from the Alley he pointed to, and moments later, a figure emerged.
It was Swingman, the martial artist from India.
“Huff, huff. Y-you’re all here?”
He greeted them like reinforcements arriving, gasping for breath as though he’d just run a marathon.
“Swingman? What’s happened? Where are the other Apostles?”
At the Spaniard’s question, Swingman’s complexion darkened rapidly.
“That’s… I don’t know.”
“What? You don’t know?”
“I’m ashamed to say, but I was too preoccupied fleeing from him to keep track of my comrades. There was no time to worry about them.”
“Him? Who are you talking about….”
“Black Scythe.”
The moment that name left his lips, the other Apostles understood instinctively.
The ominous premonition they’d shared moments ago had become reality.
“Tell us exactly what happened.”
“Before that… are you certain he’s not nearby?”
“Who? Black Scythe?”
As Swingman glanced nervously around the area, the Spaniard spoke in a reassuring tone.
“Based on our perimeter scan, there’s no one else in the vicinity besides us. If you’re still anxious, why not try tracking Black Scythe? Surely you saw his face?”
“No. He was wearing a white mask. I have no idea what he looks like. And without knowing his real name, isn’t it impossible to track him in reality?”
“Ah, that’s right. I forgot. Then explain what happened here.”
Swingman nodded and began to speak.
“As you know, we used hostages to lure Black Scythe. He arrived before you did. A man with a white mask wielding a scythe. Since there was only one of him, we thought we could easily win with our numbers… but that was a grave miscalculation. My comrades and the hostages were slaughtered in an instant.”
“Black Scythe killed the hostages too?”
“Yes. He was ruthless, showing no mercy to hostages or anyone else. His strength was formidable. He wielded a scythe with a mysterious property—it extended like a whip—and his attacks were invisible. It didn’t take long before only First Warrior and I remained.”
Swingman shuddered as he spoke in a somber tone, as if the memory still made his skin crawl.
“We realized instantly that victory was impossible. Without a word, we scattered as if by agreement. Running was our only chance at survival. The other Apostles died, but I didn’t see what happened to First Warrior. I fled without even looking back.”
It was a grim tale of a massacre with no meaningful resistance.
Though it matched John Delgado’s expectations, Yang Chui-wen still looked skeptical.
“Listen, Curry Man. Are you absolutely certain Black Scythe did this?”
“What do you mean? Are you suggesting I’m lying?”
“Who knows? Maybe you killed the other Apostles and are calmly acting innocent.”
“What?”
Swingman jumped up indignantly.
“Why would I kill my own comrades? What would I gain from that?”
“That’s true. There’s no reason for Swingman to betray us.”
Though the Spaniard came to his defense, Yang Chui-wen’s suspicion remained.
“I don’t know why he’d betray us. But the more I think about it, the stranger it seems. You all agreed to strike Black Scythe together, yet you attacked first without us? Are you insane? Couldn’t you have bought time with conversation until we arrived?”
“We considered it. But First Warrior said there was no need, so he stopped us from doing so….”
“Then why did you suddenly return to the murder scene?”
“I came back thinking First Warrior might still be alive. I also realized you were in danger when you arrived.”
“So the man who abandoned his comrades to save himself came back because he was worried about us? There’s a modern-day Gandhi for you.”
Yang Chui-wen sneered, but Swingman’s explanation held some merit.
John Delgado joined the conversation and defended him.
“Regardless of other details, it seems true that he encountered Black Scythe. The Black Scythe I’ve seen also wielded that mysterious scythe that extends like a whip.”
“So First Warrior and the other teams really died without putting up a fight?”
“That’s likely the case. I’m not certain about the other teams, but….”
“If only we knew his real name, we could use tracking to determine if he’s alive….”
When Dark Soul expressed his regret, the Spaniard apologized.
“I hadn’t considered that point. I assumed you wouldn’t want to reveal your real name, so I didn’t ask… That was my oversight.”
“In any case, since we can’t reach him, he’s probably dead, isn’t he? Swingman’s testimony supports that too.”
“That seems to be the case.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but there was no way around the truth.
After all, wasn’t there a witness who had survived an encounter with Black Scythe?
‘Was that curry man’s claim about meeting Black Scythe actually true?’
Since John Delgado had verified it, it appeared to be fact.
Yang Chui-wen, feeling embarrassed about his baseless suspicions, grumbled to hide his discomfort.
“Damn it, the 12 Apostles have been reduced to the 5 Apostles just like that.”
“Indeed.”
“Sigh.”
Sighs escaped from the lips of the team members.
Seven of them had fallen to just one man.
“What do we do now?”
“We need to withdraw from Korea immediately. Black Scythe could be nearby.”
“That’s right. We could become targets at any moment.”
“After coming all this way, you want us to flee like cowards? Without gaining anything?”
Yang Chui-wen complained, but the other Apostles thought differently.
“We’ve learned of Black Scythe’s strength, so it’s not a complete loss. Let’s return and devise a countermeasure.”
“The Spaniard is right. If we want to plan for the future, shouldn’t we at least survive as five?”
“We must leave Korea before Black Scythe arrives.”
“Tch.”
Yang Chui-wen was displeased about returning to Korea empty-handed, but he understood there was no choice.
“You said you’re busy? Let’s go quickly.”
As he turned to leave, the remaining Apostles also felt relieved and turned to follow.
They had no idea that Ryu Min, disguised as Swingman, was smiling from behind.
* * *
‘They all think I’m Swingman.’
Contrary to the testimony, Swingman had not survived.
His neck had been broken in my grip.
In other words, the Swingman they had been talking to all this time was Ryu Min, flawlessly transformed using the Assassin’s Mask.
‘With my face, skin tone, voice, and clothing all perfect, there’s no way I’d be exposed.’
There was no room for doubt—except for Yang Chui-wen.
He was the only one who had suspected Swingman.
‘I thought it was unlikely, but he actually suspected me of being a traitor. Perhaps it’s because he’s ranked first in the Triad that his instincts are so sharp. Or maybe he just disliked Swingman?’
It didn’t matter.
I could now continue posing as one of the 12 Apostles as planned.
‘I need to attend the strategy meeting when we return and guide the situation in the direction I want.’
To use the Necromancer in the 12 Rounds, I needed to lay groundwork from within.
It was an infiltration for that purpose.
‘Creating an organization like this to stand against me? How laughable. I’ll use you all as I see fit, then discard you without hesitation.’
Ryu Min’s lips curved upward, but the other Apostles didn’t notice.

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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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