Having the strength of a first-tier late-stage warrior didn’t bring Mu’en Campbell much sense of security. Just like when he faced the Assassin earlier, it was only useful for running fast enough to block a knife for Celicia. Beyond that, it was utterly useless.
“The Protagonist’s current warrior strength is probably only at the first-tier late stage too.”
“But she can use magic! She has divine blessings! And all sorts of tools!”
“At this point, facing a pure Magician or a pure Warrior, she could probably leap two tiers and still come out on top!”
Thinking this, Mu’en felt the growing gap between himself and the Protagonist, Ariel.
—In the original book, the only reason Mu’en Campbell could strut around like a big shot for those twenty chapters was because of his noble status!
…
After some thought, Mu’en added one last line to his notes on how to get stronger.
Be able to protect himself from the Protagonist, Ariel.
“For now, that’s my ultimate goal.”
Mu’en didn’t think he could surpass Ariel, so he settled for the next best thing. Since the conflict with the Protagonist was temporarily irreconcilable, the least he could do was survive her revenge.
But even that was incredibly hard to achieve.
Having read the original book, Mu’en knew full well how much of a cheat Ariel was.
After all, as the Protagonist of a “phoenix soaring in the sky” novel, how could she ‘not’ be overpowered?
“Ordinary methods won’t work. I need something else!”
…
…
Mu’en took out the Black Book again.
After all, the only thing that might serve as his “cheat” was this mysterious book, which normally only wrote his diary and occasionally gave him unreliable prophetic dreams.
Moreover, Mu’en had noticed something strange about it.
“That Evil God’s flame the Assassin summoned through the ritual—even if that dress was a powerful defensive artifact, it shouldn’t have been able to block it! You must’ve done something!”
Mu’en rubbed the mysterious Black Book, muttering to himself.
“And back then, I did feel something unusual from you.”
“If you have any other functions, please show them to me!”
Mu’en opened the Black Book again.
Unlike the first time he opened it, the Black Book was no longer a blank tome. It was now filled with detailed records of Mu’en’s experiences, down to the smallest details—even his encounter with Celicia was documented in great detail.
“Damn, this feels like reading an adult novel starring myself.”
Mu’en cursed under his breath and skipped over that part.
Then, he finally noticed something different.
“The words here are red.”
The entire Black Book was written in black ink, except for the part about the Assassin who tried to kill Celicia. The word “Assassin” was written in a blood-red color.
“Why? Is there something different about it?”
Mu’en pondered this, then subconsciously placed his finger on the two red characters.
Suddenly, the red characters released a powerful force, as if pulling on Mu’en’s soul.
Before Mu’en could even scream, everything went black, and he lost consciousness.
…
“What’s going on? Where am I?”
Mu’en stood up from the ground, utterly confused.
Just a moment ago, he had been in his room. Now, he was in an unfamiliar place.
The surroundings were pitch black, and he couldn’t see a thing.
“No, it’s not darkness.”
Mu’en looked down at his hands.
He could see himself, which meant it wasn’t actually dark.
The illusion of darkness came from the black background—black walls, black floors, and a black ceiling. The boundaries between them were indistinguishable, as if he were standing in a fog.
“Is this the space inside the Black Book?”
“But what’s it for? Storage?”
Just as Mu’en was puzzling over this, he heard a strange sound.
Click. Clack.
It sounded like the footsteps of the Duke’s Maid walking on marble floors in her leather shoes.
Mu’en looked up.
His eyes widened in horror.
Because not far from him, someone was approaching.
Someone dressed as a Maid.
It was unmistakably the Maid uniform from the Duke’s household, which was why the footsteps sounded exactly the same.
But the problem was, the Maid’s face…
It was the Assassin.
“How is this possible? Aren’t you dead?”
And why was she here?
The Assassin didn’t answer.
She just raised her head, revealing a pair of cold, mechanical eyes.
A chill ran down Mu’en’s spine.
But before he could do anything, his vision blurred.
The Assassin disappeared.
The Assassin reappeared.
Just like when she tried to assassinate Celicia, in an instant, she closed the distance between them.
Then… a cold glint flashed.
Mu’en felt a chill on his neck.
The world spun.
The last thing Mu’en saw was the Assassin’s blood-stained dagger and… a headless corpse.
…
…
“What the hell!”
Mu’en woke up at his desk.
His movement was so abrupt that he knocked over his chair and fell to the ground.
But he didn’t care about the minor pain. Instead, his hands frantically felt around his neck.
“Thank goodness, my head’s still attached.”
Mu’en let out a sigh of relief.
He’d almost thought he’d died for real again.
“Was that… just a dream?”
No, it wasn’t a dream.
The sensation of death still lingered on his neck—no dream could feel that real.
Mu’en stood up and looked at the Black Book again.
The Black Book was still there, the words “Assassin” written in bright red, standing out with an inexplicable allure.
“Could it be…”
Mu’en suddenly had a guess.
But to confirm it, he needed to test it.
So he reached out his hand again, ready to touch the red characters.
His hand trembled slightly.
Even though death had been quick and painless, the experience wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“Dammit, I’ve died more than once or twice now. What’s there to be afraid of?”
Mu’en steeled himself and firmly pressed his hand down.
…
The black space appeared again, and the Maid-dressed Assassin stood there, just like before.
Her appearance, movements, expression, and even her strength were identical to what Mu’en remembered.
But her cold demeanor didn’t feel like that of a living person.
“So, she’s not the actual Assassin but a record created by the Black Book, just like the records of me.”
“But this record is more detailed, more realistic—it’s practically no different from the real person!”
Looking at the Assassin, Mu’en seemed to understand everything, and a somewhat manic excitement appeared on his face.
“I think I’ve figured out the Black Book’s true function.”
