The 100th Regression of the Max-Level Player - Chapter 230

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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 230
230. Sniper Shot
“I’m grateful that you brought me into Messiah. But there’s something….”
Jang So-wi, who had been waiting for Black Scythe, suddenly felt a twinge of doubt.
“Do you really think Black Scythe will come all the way to this distant land of the United States?”
“He’ll come. Whether with good intentions or bad. Most likely bad intentions.”
“What do you mean by that? Are you saying he’ll come to kill us?”
Yang Chui-wen didn’t deny his subordinate’s question.
“Yeah. He’ll probably come to kill us. A man who’s murdered the other 12 Apostles won’t leave us alone.”
“Then we shouldn’t be here, should we? We need to escape right now….”
“Jang So-wi.”
Yang Chui-wen’s eyes turned cold as he looked at his subordinate.
“What are you doing acting so unlike a Triad member? Are you suddenly worried about your life now?”
“No, it’s just that the opponent is no ordinary foe, is he? Rather than die meaninglessly, wouldn’t it be better to….”
“Hey, what do you mean meaningless? Didn’t you hear the plan? Black Scythe coming here is already half the battle. We’ve been given the chance to crush his head.”
“Is that so…?”
“That’s why you don’t need to worry. Just stand with us and draw his attention. Make it easy for Dark Soul to take the shot.”
“Understood, Boss.”
Yang Chui-wen patted the subordinate’s shoulder a couple of times, then extended his hand toward Spaniard.
“Give me the radio.”
“Here it is.”
*Click*
Yang Chui-wen turned on the radio and started with a voice test.
“Can you hear me clearly? Dark Soul?”
-Yes, loud and clear.
“Can you see us?”
-I can see you in detail, right down to your nostrils.
“Stop with the crude remarks and focus on the shot. If you miss even once, there won’t be another chance.”
-Don’t worry. As long as the target stays still, I won’t miss a single shot.
“Good. We’ll make sure to draw Black Scythe’s attention, so take your time and aim carefully.”
-I said don’t worry.
Yang Chui-wen released the radio, his expression still dissatisfied.
“Our fate rests in the hands of that Japanese bastard. How irritating.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
He muttered in Chinese, then handed the radio back to Spaniard and checked the time.
Ten minutes remained until the appointed time.
‘Will he really come?’
Though I’d boasted confidently to my colleagues, Black Scythe might not show up at all.
‘It’s obviously a trap. If I were him, I wouldn’t go.’
But since the opponent was Black Scythe, he wondered if he might actually come.
He’d be confident enough in his skills to scoff at traps.
Having always been at the top, his pride would be formidable too.
‘Judging by how he dealt with the 12 Apostles, he’s not the type to leave loose ends. The odds of him coming are higher. So I can’t afford to be careless.’
Yang Chui-wen turned to his colleagues with an expression more serious than ever.
“Just to be safe, when Black Scythe appears, don’t panic and look directly at him. If you carelessly avert your gaze, Black Scythe will follow suit and turn his head.”
“So you’re saying we should draw his attention as much as possible for a clean shot?”
“Exactly. Have Spaniard speak first about surrendering to capture his focus. Act with sincerity about wanting to serve under Black Scythe. If necessary, all three of you should kneel to create an opening for him to let his guard down. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now steel yourselves and wait. Today might be the last day of our lives.”
Gulp—
As they swallowed hard and waited in tension.
The three men’s gazes fixed on a single point.
Thud— Thud—
A figure in a white mask, wielding an enormous scythe, was walking toward them.
* * *
When Dark Soul first acquired the sniper class, the emotion that flooded through him was elation.
It was a familiar profession for someone who was already an FPS game fanatic.
‘As expected, sniping suits me perfectly. There’s no thrill quite like dropping someone with a single shot.’
But reality was, in crude terms, a cesspool.
A 26-year-old otaku who’d never found work, just gaming at home.
That was Dark Soul’s true identity.
Because of that, those around him didn’t view him favorably.
Family, friends, society’s gaze—none of it was kind.
‘Gaming is more beneficial than cigarettes, so why do people look at it with such prejudice?’
Study harder, how will you eat otherwise, get a job, you loser—the refrains were endless.
Even though he wasn’t harming anyone, people loved meddling in his life.
‘It’s my life to live, so why do they keep interfering and making a fuss?’
Life only comes once anyway.
Dark Soul’s philosophy was to live thick and short, enjoying what he could, rather than thin and long.
Though those around him constantly pointed fingers, accusing him of self-rationalization.
‘What’s the point of living hard? My grades were always at the bottom anyway—my life’s already ruined. Why not just live as I please?’
What good would enduring hardship and struggling do? He’d never catch up to the silver-spoon kids anyway.
He had no desire to live desperately on below-average wages.
Dark Soul believed that reducing effort and spending time playing and eating offered better value for money.
‘In this world, only those who try hard end up looking foolish. Look, I cursed for things to go wrong, and they actually did, didn’t they?’
In the end, the world unfolded exactly as Dark Soul thought it would.
All his prior efforts went unrewarded, and instead 1.8 billion people found themselves living on borrowed time.
Dark Soul had unexpectedly survived this long, perhaps possessing hidden talent, but his current thoughts were different.
‘It’s not talent. I was just lucky. If I’m not careful, that luck might run out today.’
If I miss the shot, if I fail to assassinate Black Scythe.
Dark Soul’s life might end here.
‘Will I miss? I’m Japan’s number one ranked player. How many heads have I blown apart until now?’
The sniper profession didn’t require assembling guns or carefully calculating wind direction, distance, and bullet velocity like in movies.
All I had to do was pull out the sniper rifle from my inventory, position myself, and lie down.
After all, the [Sniper Rune] I possessed increased my accuracy.
Especially in the prone shooting position compared to the kneeling position, accuracy increased threefold.
There was no need to measure wind direction or anything else like in reality.
‘As long as I know how to align the target in the crosshairs like an FPS game, there’s no problem.’
Of course, the gun had a legitimate effective range, so distance still needed consideration.
In other words, as long as I paid attention to the firing range, even a complete novice at sniping could land a hit.
‘As long as I’m lying down and shooting, there’s no possibility of missing. Once the target enters the scope, I can shoot and kill immediately.’
With the [Sniper] skill that increased bullet damage, the [Penetration] skill that ignored defense, and the [Bullseye] buff stacked on top?
I could put a hole through anyone’s head.
‘Come on then. You Korean bastard. I’ll kill you in one shot.’
There was no risk of retaliation.
I was aiming from 1 kilometer away, the maximum range of my current sniper rifle.
The moment he appeared at the meeting place, I would kill him.
While I was peering through the scope with such confidence, a crackling sound came through the radio.
I couldn’t hear any voice.
But I was certain it was a signal from Spaniard.
We’d promised to send a silent radio signal the moment we spotted Black Scythe.
‘He’s here, he’s here. Where is he?’
Looking through the scope, sure enough.
A figure wearing a white mask came into view, walking forward.
‘That’s Black Scythe.’
I’d never met him in person, but I could instinctively tell that this was Black Scythe.
He was holding a scythe that was clearly no ordinary weapon, and he wore the exact same mask I’d seen in the media.
Dark Soul swallowed hard and focused all his concentration, tracking Black Scythe’s movements through the scope.
‘He’s entered the firing range as planned. The moment he stops, I’ll shoot and kill him.’
The buff skills were already activated.
Like a game, all I had to do was align the crosshairs and pull the trigger, and unlike a real sniper rifle, the bullet would fire without recoil.
Then he would collapse like a puppet with its strings cut, his head snapping back.
Black Scythe was no exception.
He was human too.
‘Okay. Take a deep breath. This one shot decides everything.’
I waited for him to stop walking.
Thud—
Black Scythe finally came to a halt.
Now!
Whoosh—!
The moment I spotted the opening, my finger moved without hesitation.
Even I had to admire my reaction speed—it was that fast.
In the blink of an eye, I saw Black Scythe’s head explode in the scope, blood spraying as he collapsed.
I… I killed him!
Exhilaration flooded Dark Soul’s face.
“I killed Black Scythe. Hahaha! I killed him! I killed him myself!”
I zoomed in on the scope again to confirm, and it was unmistakable.
A pool of blood was forming beneath Black Scythe’s head where it lay crumpled on the ground.
The three Apostles were smiling at the sight of Black Scythe like that.
A sense of pride washed over me like a general who’d severed an enemy commander’s head—but then something odd occurred to me.
Now that I think about it, why haven’t I gotten a message? I killed him, so shouldn’t I be the district representative now?
Could it be that killing someone in reality doesn’t strip them of their representative status?
The confusion lingered, but one thing was certain: I’d killed the legendary Black Scythe.
I’d always resented that Korean bastard taking first place across all districts anyway. This works out perfectly. Hehehehe.
I was grinning to myself, but only for a moment.
“Found you.”
At the voice from behind me, Dark Soul spun around in shock, his face going rigid.
Because the Black Scythe I’d just killed was standing there, completely unharmed.
“Y-you… how are you….”
“How am I alive? Because the one who died wasn’t me.”
That was when it happened.
Static—
An urgent voice crackled through the radio.
—What’s going on? Dark Soul! His body just vanished! I saw him spray blood and die right in front of me, but he disappeared like a ghost had possessed him! Hey? Say something! Why aren’t you answering….
Dark Soul couldn’t respond to Yang Chui-wen’s voice.
Because the body that supposedly vanished was now standing before me, scythe leveled at my chest.
“If you don’t want to die, I’d suggest putting that gun away. And stop thinking any foolish thoughts.”
Dark Soul flinched.
This bastard has incredible instincts.
I considered launching a surprise shot, but decided against it.
If this really was Black Scythe, any resistance would be futile.
“If you just listen to what I say, I won’t kill you. Don’t worry.”
“W-what are you planning?”
“First, let’s go see your friends.”
Ryu Min gestured with his chin for me to lead the way, and Dark Soul complied, reading the situation.
What’s he thinking? He’s not planning to let me live. Is he gathering everyone in one place to kill us all at once?
Maybe it would be better to resist until the very end and die fighting.
Or maybe this is my chance. If my allies and I work together, we might find an opening.
My colleagues aren’t the type to simply accept their fate either.
Even facing death, they’d choose to resist until the very end.
Of course, I had no desire to die so meaninglessly myself.
‘I need to watch for an opening—when my colleagues attack Black Scythe, that’s when I’ll make my escape.’
If I use my colleagues, there might be a chance.
Shouldn’t I at least try to survive on my own?
‘Please. Don’t lose your nerve, you bastards. Just give me an opening to run.’
With such desperate prayers, I finally reached the Alley where the ambush was supposed to happen.
As I entered, I saw Yang Chui-wen, Jang So-wi, and the Spaniard standing motionless.
And some Asian woman as well.
“Welcome, Master.”
The woman bowed respectfully toward Black Scythe.
I couldn’t tell if she was speaking Korean or something else, but it wasn’t particularly surprising.
A player of Black Scythe’s caliber having a secretary wasn’t unusual at all.
The problem was that she wasn’t the only one bowing.
“Welcome, Black Scythe!”
Every member of Messiah was bent at a ninety-degree angle, bowing to Black Scythe.
“Wh-what is this…?”
Dark Soul trembled, his lips quivering at the unexpected turn of events.
“These bastards already attached themselves to Black Scythe!”
They’d clearly clung to him like parasites just to survive.
“I knew this would happen! You shameless dogs!”
“You’ll be the same soon enough.”
“What?”
Dark Soul let out a scoff at Ryu Min’s words.
“You can kill me, but you can’t control my mind…”
“Control it.”
At my single command, Yamtti stepped forward.
It didn’t take long for Dark Soul’s eyes to glaze over.
“I greet my master.”
“No, from now on your master is Black Scythe. Show your respect.”
“I greet my new master.”
Dark Soul, his mind now enslaved, bowed deeply.
Looking down at the back of his head, I let out a cold chuckle.
With this, the organization called Messiah had ceased to exist forever.

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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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