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Chapter 222: Hello, Little Thief
🕑 Added 2025-03-07 21:33:50 +0000 UTC« Chapter-221 | Index | Chapter-223 »
A few moments before, One Hundred-Sixteen had reached the stadium and was surprised to find hundreds of human players sitting cross-legged in organized rows.
'Are these traitors?' he had first thought.
Their levels were all above 180, with the highest reaching 185. At first glance, they appeared calm. They sat with smiles on their faces, as if they had willingly submitted to their enemy.
Focusing on their bodies, One Hundred-Sixteen quickly noticed a problem. Their power was far from enough to rival players who had climbed to level 180 through battles and training.
'They have been boosted to their current levels... Was it before or after the update? But who was strong enough to boost players to such a level before the update? Or did the enemy boost them?'
Yet, what bothered him the most was their expressions.
'Why are they just sitting there, smiling?' One Hundred-Sixteen wondered. 'Captives would usually show some resistance, but they look happy.'
He studied them more closely. It wasn’t until he turned his attention to the 'farmers' that he understood what was happening.
A few players from the Spirit Race released waves of mental power toward the humans every few moments.
'Are they putting them under some sort of illusion?' One Hundred-Sixteen wondered.
As he continued observing, he soon noticed a human player standing up, walking up to the Spirit player managing his 'farm' and handing him a dozen [Soul Pearls]...
One Hundred-Sixteen’s expression changed as he felt his anger rising.
'The players aren't traitors or simple prisoners... They're cattle being harvested for their Soul Power. Their power has probably been inflated, and now their minds were being controlled by their captors. They're forced to farm [Soul Pearls] and give them...'
And these people didn’t even know they were being farmed.
Observing for a few minutes, he soon estimated the output of [Soul Pearls] these farms could produce.
'I would need to watch for longer for a better estimate, but from the quality of their techniques and their Soul Levels, these farms can produce from a thousand a day to a few thousands depending on its tier.'
One Hundred-Sixteen’s heart raced as he started imagining how many farms there could be around the world.
'There are five farms here... And each of the owners is one of the strongest players from the allied races. And if other cities outside of the top 30 have been enslaved like São Paulo, it means humans are being harvested of Soul Pearls for the benefit of the strongest invaders...'
His eyes moved to Jut, still napping in the stands. The werewolf exuded an air of overwhelming dominance, his presence suffocating even while he slept.
'If he's here, then this farm is something important.'
'We have to stop this...'
One Hundred-Sixteen forced himself to calm down and waited for the others.
He didn't have to wait for long as he soon felt the arrival of One Hundred-One and the others.
One Hundred-Sixteen quickly summarized the situation, detailing what he had seen and understood. The rest of the group listened, and when he finished, all eyes turned to One Hundred-One, waiting for his decision.
As the 'leader', it was up to him to decide their course of action.
One Hundred-One didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sent a message to Sora.
"What’s the situation in Buenos Aires and the other groups in South America?" he asked.
Sora’s answer was heard immediately. "Similar farms have been found in Lima, Bogota, Santiago, and other cities. The other groups didn’t attack and are waiting as well. You should coordinate."
One Hundred-One frowned but pushed on. "What about the civilians? What’s the state of South America?"
"Your group was the last to finish helping civilians. All civilians have been evacuated to either Rio de Janeiro or Buenos Aires," Sora answered. "There are no more civilians in South America. The only ones left are players held captive and invaders."
One Hundred-One's expression relaxed, a smile forming on his face. "Then we can attack."
Sora was silent for a moment before answering. "Go all out. No reason to hold back."
With Sora’s approval, One Hundred-One’s smile widened. He turned to his group, his face showing his intention to fight.
"You heard him," he said. "We have the green light. Let’s tear this place apart."
Sensing the hunger for battle from his brother, Seven raised his hand and asked, "What do we do about the hostages?"
One Hundred-One took a deep breath and turned to Sixty. "You focus on the prisoners. If there's no way to save them, we'll have no choice but to..." He paused before making a cutting motion with his hand.
The five of them all originated from the same source, and didn't usually argue. However, at the moment, Sixty, Seven, and Eight Hundred-Thirty-Two stiffened in shock.
Sixty was the first to retort, "What are you saying?!"
One Hundred-One raised his hand to stop the trio from complaining and added, "Don't be arrogant. Do you think that just because we killed a few weaklings, we're heroes who can save everyone? That we can wipe out every enemy standing in our way?"
He pointed at Jut, the Werewolf player and added, "You think we can beat that guy, all these players, then save everyone from the five Spirit Race players?"
Silence.
"If you can't yes, it means we have to prepare for the worst. Get into position. This might be the last time we fight together."
The trio clenched their fists, but none of them argued further. They turned to One Hundred-Sixteen, hoping for another answer, but he simply shook his head.
"Let's give our best," he murmured before fading into the shadows, disappearing from sight.
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One Hundred-Sixteen reappeared in the middle of Pacaembu Stadium, not far from one of the five Spirits.
None of the players in his surroundings noticed his arrival. He knew the odds weren’t in their favor, but that didn’t matter. He would do whatever it took to save the human players.
As he approached one of the C-Tier farms, he received One Hundred-One's signal.
He tightened his grip on his short sword and covered the Spirit player with shadows. The figure silently disappeared from the football field and reappeared in a another space.
The space was a tiny pocket dimension forged from condensed shadows and darkness. It was were One Hundred-Sixteen took his targets when he didn't want to create a commotion in the outside world.
The Level 212 Spirit player appeared inside, confused and in shock. However, before he could react, One Hundred-Sixteen attacked. His short sword, covered in sword intent and darkness, sliced clean through the Spirit’s neck, cutting his head before he could move.
The body was absorbed into the darkness, One Hundred-Sixteen felt his power level increase.
[Level Up!] x2
A moment later, One Hundred-Sixteen reappeared on the field and struck again. One by one, he pulled the Spirit players into his Shadow Space, assassinating them in direct confrontations before slipping back onto the field.
By the time the enemy realized something was wrong, four of the five Spirit farmers had already disappeared.
Unbeknownst to One Hundred-Sixteen, somewhere in the stands, Jut's nose and ears twitched as he opened his eyes.
One Hundred-Sixteen knew that his time was limited and there was no pause between his assassinations. He appeared before the fifth Spirit and covered him with shadows.
The moment the Spirit disappeared, Jut materialized in his place, his fist already descending toward the ground at a frightening speed.
The impact was catastrophic.
Half of the stadium collapsed into rubble, the power of the strike sending shockwaves through the ground and the air. Yet, despite the destruction, Jut’s control was absolute. None of the surrounding city was damaged.
He had made sure São Paulo itself remained untouched, as if remembering he couldn't eliminate too many humans.
He snorted, his green eyes scanning the wreckage. "Almost got you, rat."
Though he had missed One Hundred-Sixteen, he didn't seem very concerned. His gaze moved to the side of the stadium who looked intact, locking onto a skirmish between two groups.
Three human players were overwhelming his eight subordinates, beating them down one by one.
Jut shook his head, disappointed. "Pathetic." He said.
But he did not linger on them.
"A rat infiltrated the farms and easily got rid of the Spirits... These clowns really are too weak." He snorted as his gaze turned to the the Spirit Pearl Farms.
Five hundred humans sat, meditating and grinding Soul Pearls. While nothing appeared out of place, Jut could still sense the imprints he had left on the bodies of each human captive. No matter where they ran, he could track them.
"And some pest is even trying to kidnap the precious slaves we raised."
As he turned in Sixty’s direction, he raised his voice.
"Do you think I'll let you go freely after the mess you just created?"
Jut jumped and disappeared from his position. Floating above the stadium, he raised his hands covered with condensed mana. With a single swipe, he tore through the air, creating a rift in space.
His eyes shone with joy as he peeked through the tear. He found the hidden location where Sixty was transferring the human captives. Inside, three hundred freshly abducted players lay unconscious.
Jut chuckled. "Just in time. If I lost five hundred slaves, I’d be hearing complaints from the farm owners all week long."
His smile widened into a grin as he locked onto Sixty’s figure in the distance.
"Hello, little thief... Why don’t you return what doesn't belong to you?"
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Comments
Quentin Cozzi
Thanks for the chapter!
Dero_Dore
Chappy!
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