No Dark Secrets In This Book

Episode 105

While gathering forces and conducting Q&A, Cassice Demillang seemed to be thinking lightly, even brightly as always, but the reality they faced now was no joke. Everyone was exhausted, had their morale broken, and was covered in blood. It wasn’t just the people who faced the boss monster constructed from huge trauma.

A certain attacker who directly confronted his own trauma froze, trembling and unable to move, and had his leg cut off. If his teammate next to him hadn’t dragged him away while he was frozen and unable to even scream, he would have nearly died on the spot. Fortunately, his trauma wasn’t in human form but closer to a mist, so his leg could also be retrieved. 

The hastily reattached leg still had the lingering sensation of being severed. He knew it was phantom pain. But the fear made him feel like he was going crazy.

That attacker’s trauma wasn’t anything special. In fact, he had lived his whole life brainwashing himself that it was nothing. Because otherwise, he felt like he would go insane. That kind of trauma. Trauma of abuse, domestic violence, the image of a drunk father. He thought he had escaped it now. But the moment his bottle-holding father showed his face in the mist, he couldn’t move a finger, feeling like he would go crazy.

He still hasn’t overcome his own trauma. Even knowing that an attacker must thoroughly prepare to face a named one from the spiritual realm, he spent his life avoiding a proper life, drinking heavily and hanging out with nasty guys, paying the price for that here.

He didn’t intend to enter the dungeon in the first place and planned to make an excuse of a stomachache and leave after just showing face.

‘How did I end up actually entering the dungeon?’

He experienced too many terrible things. It wasn’t just his trauma that appeared. Everyone had their own pain, and how they dealt with it determined their grade when facing a named one from the spiritual realm. Even someone with a shabby minor name in daily life could bloom a brilliant future if they displayed strong divinity-like performance in front of trauma. That is, if they survive.

‘Only if we can get out of here alive…’

The attacker furtively glanced around with skeptical eyes. Everyone who came as attackers was sitting or lying down like broken flagpoles, exhausted. No one was in their right mind. They looked like they were too tired and wanted to sleep but were forcibly keeping their eyes open. The soldiers? How were they any different?

They were different. They seemed to have experienced this kind of thing quite a bit. However, modern military in the first place is mostly a system that trains humans with no talent in supernatural abilities, gives them supernatural weapons, and tells them to fight. So even if their minds were trained, they had no ability to fight. So they were gritting their teeth even more miserably and unbearably while looking at their severed comrades.

There was no way the military would be generously supplied with rare, expensive, and precious items like potions. Of course, the attackers might be able to share potions. But why? Why should they? When I don’t have enough potions for myself? Why should I give the last bit of luck I might be able to use right before I die to those I don’t even know? The attackers deliberately turned their backs, lowered their gaze, and made cold, sullen expressions in case the soldiers came begging for potions. And Ivan Karpin was stopping the soldiers who read that atmosphere and were about to pick a fight in anger. While stopping them, he took out a needle and thread from his military bag and desperately tried to somehow reattach them. Seeing that, some attackers gave hollow laughs. Whether it was because they knew it was hopeless, or because they wanted to sneer.

It was unknown, and that’s when a certain soldier thought he wanted to kill them.

“Here.”

Someone threw something and he caught it reflexively, and a large bottle filled his hands. Inside the bottle that looked like glass but was actually made of various metals and composites so it wouldn’t break from a fair impact, a purple liquid was swirling and sparkling.

“Use it.”

Realizing it was a potion, the soldier couldn’t stand still and leaped to his feet. He was going to bow somehow. Whoever it was, even if they became a thousand-year-old enemy, it wouldn’t be a waste to prostrate to the person who gave an opportunity to save his comrade. So he raised his eyes, and at that moment, his breath stopped. When the eyes that reminded him of the purple liquid he just received looked at him, even the fleeting glance made him flustered and ashamed.

The soldier knows. Our world is a de facto class society. There are no others who reign as high as the Demillang there. Of course, not all Demillangs earn respect, but if there is someone who earns the most respect, if the most renowned figure is still alive, it could only be Cassice Demillang.

As a soldier, he couldn’t understand why he came to this land. After all, with the family head already old, was he trying to speed up the succession ceremony that would take place with time? He remembered laughing with his colleagues that they couldn’t understand why he would crawl into a land where he might really die in the name of building honor.

Surely, they had said the young rookie would underestimate the raid…

However, Cassice Demillang was maintaining the most composed and calm demeanor here more than anyone else, so all his words turned into an embarrassing past.

If not, look inside Cassice Demillang’s embrace.

In the early stages, when gathering the surviving forces, Cassice Demillang responded to the attackers’ aggressive questions about why he wasn’t proceeding with the raid while holding a boss monster in his arms with a very light and refreshing smile.

‘Do you want to shed blood now?’

Of course, the attackers hesitated, but they weren’t completely convinced. However, they had to agree with the logic that followed. For some reason, Cassice Demillang put forth a bold and bizarre idea that this thing was docile to him now, so he would capture it alive and make the bosses fight each other in a moment of crisis.

That’s the kind of person Cassice Demillang was.

Even if he hadn’t given us this potion, we should have followed him long ago. Cassice Demillang is a light-like existence that must be followed unconditionally in combat situations. Yet he casually handed over the elixir that could save himself in a moment of crisis and remained consistently indifferent, as if his back was not only somewhat empty but also not expecting natural gratitude.

He wanted to grab and stop him.

“Ca-Cassice Demillang!”

The gaze he turned back was still cold, but seemed to demand the next words. So that’s the vivid color it becomes when the purple light blazes brightly, a bright and sweet color as if pink paint is lightly dyed like watercolor on bright purple.

If he could add even a little bit of happy surprise on top of that, he would be glad. To let him know that the life this young man casually offered without any expectation could have great meaning to someone.

“Thank you! Thanks to you, I think my friend will be able to live! You saved him! You kept him alive!”

“…”

“Thank you! Thank you for saving him. For keeping him alive… I’m truly grateful…”

“That’s enough. I heard it all.”

Still a dry voice.

“If anything happens to the young master, I will! I will dedicate my life to saving you. I will never forget this grace!”

Only at those words did Cassice Demillang completely turn around and look at the soldier. The soldier gulped and Cassice Demillang thought. An unfamiliar face. An extra who didn’t even appear as a supporting role, without a single line.

A loyalty oath from such a person, how funny.

“Your life has no value to me.”

First, he’s a soldier. What is he saying when he should be serving the country? Second, I need strong people, not weaklings. Third…

“So survive. You.”

Cassice Demillang had no desire to carry someone else’s life on his back. Live your own life, he meant.

Although he himself was somewhat living off Ryuseong.

‘That’s a separate matter.’

Anyway, the lives of weaklings are none of his business. Cassice Demillang turned his body to sprinkle more of the C and D-grade potions he had brought to share with other weaklings, and casually waved his hand, but then that guy shouted.

“My name is Kirill! It’s Kirill! Please remember me!”

“The quality of my memory storage is high, so I can’t remember the likes of you.”

“That’s fine! I will tell you every day! It’s Kirill!”

Phew, what an idiot. Cassice Demillang shook his head indifferently and reached into his dimensional storage to sprinkle potions on other injured people, especially the pathetic ones who didn’t seem to have potions. But then some bastard tried to grab his wrist. Cassice Demillang stepped back and made him grasp the air. Then he pushed the shoulder of the stumbling Reversa’s vice-captain from behind. The vice-captain, whose posture was crumbling, fell on his butt, and soon his face turned red.

“What are you doing…!”

“Are you asking what you’re doing to me?”

From the next moment, the vice-captain started speaking telepathically.

[…That’s not it, I’m saying if you’re going to sprinkle more potions, don’t do that.]

And Cassice Demillang spoke out loud.

“Who are you to say that?”

[…At least this time it’s sincere advice. If you’re going to share potions, at least use them for Reversa. Why those measly soldiers…]

Cassice Demillang looked pathetically at the vice-captain who fell on his butt and was sending telepathic messages as if it was unfair.

[The captain also died so miserably because he had no potions, so why…!]

‘Haha, that’s funny.’

Cassice Demillang raised his lips.

That bastard, when the corpse of that guy who tried to strangle Cassice Demillang to death while he was listening to jazz was found, the Reversa members went crazy. How could the captain die, they cried. And when it was revealed that he had no potions on him, they wailed with their eyes rolled back.

‘Actually, I used them all up.’

If he hadn’t said he would leave them behind if they didn’t follow, they might have spent their whole lives cleaning up corpses there. Although judging by how other people saw Reversa sending hateful glances at Cassice Demillang and whispered, it seems the quick-witted ones noticed something suspicious.

“Tsk tsk.”

The reputation of this name Cassice Demillang was really good. Scoundrel. Human trash. Schemer. The true mastermind of this era who sits quietly in a dark chamber, moving pieces to annihilate families and bring down the signboards of martial arts schools.

In reality, it wasn’t much different. If Jeong Ian hadn’t possessed him, Cassice Demillang would have still lived like that.

So he had no hesitation in using that reputation.

“Where are you barking, you son of a bitch? I’ll grind your mouth.”

…Although the way of speaking seems a bit different.

Please forgive me for that. Okay?