Chapter 32: Fried noodle
Chapter 32
Under a scorching sun, Yuto could be seen exercising tirelessly, performing push-ups with a massive rock on his back. His posture was flawless, his movements consistent, and his face calm, betraying no hint of strain. Considering Yuto's sheer physical strength, this was hardly surprising. Ever since his body had stepped into the realm of the ultimate class, the effort and strain required for his muscle to grow had exponentially increased. Yet, Yuto wasn't doing this to enhance his strength—this was merely a warm-up. He hadn't engaged in any action for days, and his body needed the stimulation. In simpler terms, a simple ice bath for him.
"One thousand two."
"One thousand one."
Yuto muttered as he counted down his push-ups from two thousand to zero while waiting for Clara to notify him of the arrival of his expected guests. They were supposed to have arrived at twelve o'clock sharp, but it was already twenty minutes past the hour. Despite the delay, he remained unfazed. As long as they brought the people he had been waiting for without fail today, he wouldn't make a fuss.
What should I have for dinner? Yuto mused as he continued his push-ups. His train of thought was interrupted by a notification from Clara, sent through a mental link connection request. Feeling her attempt to connect with him, he accepted it seamlessly while continuing his exercise.
'Have they arrived?' Yuto asked through the link immediately after it connected.
From the other side, Clara's voice could be heard as she replied to his question immediately. 'Yes, all of them are on the basement floor, B3. However—'
'Okay,' he interrupted, cutting off the connection right after.
With a swift motion, Yuto threw the rock from his back onto the ground and leaped to his feet, not raising a speck of dirt in the process. After that, without hesitation, he turned and began walking toward the basement, heading specifically for floor B3.
()
So this is the end, huh? the director thought as he gazed at the ceiling of the dark basement—dungeon, prison, or wherever he was. The ceiling had a greenish tint due to moss growing in patches. Ever since that day, when Yuto first killed one of the organization's heads and left, his life had turned upside down. He was heavily investigated, questioned, and stripped of most of his authority. Under suspicion of being complicit in Yuto's rebellion and betrayal, the investigation dragged on for a whole month. Each passing day only increased his frustration and anger at having his loyalty questioned. But, given that his incompetence had allowed it all to happen, he could do nothing about it.
"If they could, they would have imprisoned me for months," the director thought bitterly. He seethed at those greedy fools who, even in the face of war where their very survival was being questioned, refused to unite as one. Instead, they backstabbed one another in pursuit of wealth and status. The only reason he was out of that cell was due to worsening conditions on the frontlines. A desperate plea to Lord Edward saw him reinstated as a vice frontline commander. But after that, one thing led to another, and he was captured by the head of the Phamos family himself.
"Please, spare me; I am just a..." A man's voice echoed as he pleaded for his life, tossing aside whatever dignity he once had.
Pathetic bastard, the director thought, surveying the prison for the first time since his arrival ten minutes ago. Looking to his right, he saw some teachers and workers, all fully chained up. To his left, he saw Shadow Knights—his students. There were about forty of them, more than he expected, surprising him. He had assumed they would be deployed immediately after his dismissal. As the only reason they hadn't joined the war earlier was that Lord Edward and he had considered them too valuable to waste in the meat grinder of war—at least while the odds were still in their favor. Which, unfortunately, it no longer was.
What he didn't know was that they had been deployed shortly after his departure, but the Thunderhorn Guild and Phamos family, aware of their value, had specifically ordered their capture.
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Huang Tooth.
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The sound of a metal door slamming shut broke his train of thought, followed by approaching footsteps. From his position, he couldn't see who it was—not until the footsteps drew closer. The steady march echoed through the dungeon, silencing the previous shouting and begging.
TikTok. TikTok.
The sound reverberated through the dark halls. Finally, the director saw him: a strikingly handsome teenager with raven-black hair tinged with brown at the edges and earthy brown eyes that seemed both soft and hard at once. The instant he saw him, the director recognized who it was. Though he had changed quite a bit since their last encounter, his aura and piercing gaze left no doubt.
"Oh, director. Fancy seeing you here," Arcana Anomaly—no, Tsuki Yuto—greeted him. His tone was polite, but the subtle mocking edge was unmistakable to anyone who knew him well.
"The pleasure is all mine, Arcana Anomaly. So, what brings you here?" The director replied, hiding the uncomfortable sensation spreading through his body under Yuto's piercing gaze. The scene felt eerily familiar. Their first meeting had been just like this, though the roles were reversed. Now Yuto held all the power, with the director's life hanging by a thread.
"Oh, I'm just checking in on my future subordinates," Yuto replied, an amused expression on his face as if he shared the same memory that he was having. Their exchange was interrupted by a loud shout from behind.
"B7?, no, Lord Arcana Anomaly, Is that you? Lord, do you remember me? It's me, your healing and first aid teacher—"
His plea was cut short as Yuto immediately turned around and unleashed vacuum bullets. Several fist-sized holes tore through the man's body, spraying blood across the cell. "Be quiet; I'm talking," Yuto said calmly while looking at the remains of the unfortunate soul.
The director whistled as he observed Yuto's handiwork, impressed by the speed with which he conjured wind magic and struck down the man in less than a second.
"Are you really okay with giving him such an easy death?" the director asked after a few seconds, breaking the silence that descended upon the dungeon.
Yuto shook his head. "I am. He wasn't worth the trouble of torturing. From beginning to end, he was nothing more than a spineless coward," he muttered.
The director met Yuto's unwavering gaze, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Hahaha! What a cold reply, Yuto. So, what about me? What will you do to me?" He asked, genuinely curious about what he will do to him.
"You'll see soon," was Yuto's only reply as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the hall.
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(2 weeks later)
"It has been a long time," Yuto muttered as he looked at the majestic, fortress-like castle where he had spent quite a few years of his life training and growing. Although it appeared a bit rundown, with parts of the building almost falling apart—likely due to the battle that had taken place a few days ago—its imposing presence still lingered. A group of high-ranking officers from the Shadow Veil had sought refuge there, assuming it was safe, given how fortified and hidden it was. Almost no one, except the director and the heads of the organization, knew its location.
Even the knights, workers, and teachers had no idea where it was. Everyone entering or exiting the castle had to send a request a day in advance and be teleported there by the director. Yuto recalled how, a year or two ago, the director had once complained about the number of trips it took to build the castle. With each room designed to be disassembled and reassembled, the director had teleported the pieces one by one and painstakingly put them together.
But what the others did not know was that Yuto had learned the castle's location through a fortunate series of events. It was this knowledge that allowed him to reveal its whereabouts. Though how those bastards had discovered it remained a mystery to him.
Yuto shook off his thoughts, realizing he had mused long enough. Turning to his future subordinates, he commanded, "All right, get to work. I want everything valuable in here, right where I'm standing, within an hour." He then turned and began walking toward his cave to collect some items and plant explosives. Suddenly, he remembered he hadn't designated anyone as the leader. So he spun around and yelled, "Bernard, you're in charge while I'm gone!"
Bernard, the werewolf Yuto had fought in the tournament to determine the leader of the Shadow Knights, nodded in acknowledgment. His face, as ever, was stoic, as if carved from stone. With his usual unchanging expression, Bernard began ordering the other knights around.
Yuto, amused, watched Bernard for a moment. The werewolf was more like a golem than a living being—his neutral expression hadn't shifted in years. Confident that Bernard and the rest will do what he ordered perfectly, Yuto turned and walked toward his cave. He trusted his subordinates, who, after two weeks of rigorous training and education, since that day, probably won't betray him. Not to mention, he had implemented a fail-safe to ensure their loyalty.
One hour later
Yuto emerged from his cave, having spent thirty minutes reminiscing and another thirty minutes napping. His footsteps were light and soft as he walked, humming a tune whose words he didn't know or forgot.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
The faint sounds of his footsteps echoed through the needlessly long hallway, amplifying every noise tenfold. When he finally pushed open the metal door, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights that the knights had set up on the ceiling for convenience. Once his vision cleared, what he saw left him utterly baffled.
Instead of the expected training equipment, paint, or chairs neatly stacked, he was greeted by rows upon rows of planks—thousands of them—and a pile of nails. Leaning against the planks were several large pillars. The items he had anticipated—training tools and the like—were shoved into a corner at the very edge of the room.
Yuto's steps slowed as he approached, his confusion mounting. "What are you all doing?" he asked a random Shadow Knight who was carrying a stack of planks. The knight froze, dropping the planks and immediately kneeling on one knee.
"My lord, we're almost finished. Only the training area remains," the knight said.
Yuto frowned, repeating his question. "What are you all doing?"
The knight hesitated, looking up at Yuto with an expression of utter confusion. "Umm... taking everything... valuable?" he replied cautiously.
Sighing, Yuto asked, "Where is Bernard?"
Almost instantly, Bernard appeared beside him, bowing deeply. "I am here, my lord," he said in his gruff voice.
"Why are they tearing down the castle?" Yuto asked, his voice neutral, though exasperation threatened to seep through.
"To gather everything valuable, my lord," Bernard replied, tilting his head slightly while his tail swayed gently.
Yuto ran a hand down his face, suppressing a groan. How had his simple instruction—"Take everything valuable"—been interpreted as tearing down the entire castle? He racked his brain for possible reasons. Was my instruction unclear? Did I misspeak? Or was there some bizarre training in his absence that taught them this response?
He lowered his hand, looking back at Bernard. Memories of the werewolf's first mission flashed through his mind. Back then, Bernard had been tasked with finding and killing a target. The instructions were clear: Leave no stone unturned. Bernard had taken them literally, spending two days flipping over every rock in his path after killing the target. His subordinates' attempt to suggest that it was wrong; they didn't have to literally turn upside down every stone they had come across had been ignored, and the situation had only been resolved when an instructor found him and his squad beside a waterfall, meticulously turning over stones.
So those rumors were true, Yuto thought grimly as he stared into Bernard's unblinking eyes.
Finally, Yuto relented with a thought of, I could probably find use for it. "You have another hour. Finish by then," he said, turning away and heading toward a massive, throne-like chair. A book appeared in his hand as he walked, and he sank into the chair, ready to read while waiting.
Bernard's gaze settled on a small, petite knight nearby, who met his eyes with equal intensity. "I was right," Bernard muttered under his breath, though the knight's sharp ears caught the words. Without a word, the knight turned away, kicking a stray rock down the path as he moved.
Feeling smug, Bernard straightened his posture, his chest puffed out with confidence, and strode toward the castle's bustling main hall. The steady wag of his tail is the only thing that showed what he was feeling.