Kai’s voice melted into the space; the reality melted into the falseness, and the words melted too, turning into the mysterious runes.

They glowed with the colors of the rainbow before exploding into a shower of white.

The smoky veil returned.

In the darkness, the gray smoke felt as black as anything could be. Then it parted, and a figure walked out as if a herald had announced its coming.

This figure belonged to a fifteen-year-old boy, a year younger than Kai. He was wearing a black doublet, black breeches, and black leather shoes. There was a sly smile on his lips, hidden behind a light stubble on his chin, but his eyes were calm.

Too calm, Kai observed. Calm enough to burst out into a storm.

Into chaos!

This boy was Petyr Baelish.

…

[

Skill Primordial Theater activated…

Character Petyr Baelish is ready to play his Act

Act Available: 1

]

…

Petyr bowed behind the Notification.

"Are you sentient?" Kai found himself asking stupidly. His many encounters with Cersei's character from the Book still weighed on his mind. He hadn't asked this question before, but Kai couldn't control his curiosity any longer.

Petyr smiled. "I think so," he replied, the smile never leaving his lips. "All men are blessed with intelligence. It's the use of this blessing which separates the puppet from the puppeteer."

"What are you?" Kai asked, his grip tightening over the book. "A puppet or a puppeteer?"

Petyr approached Kai, his solid figure becoming transparent with each step. "I am whatever you want me to be… master," his voice echoed in Kai's mind. "But foremost, I am a Character, and now… It is my turn to Act."

Kai looked into his eyes. He nodded and proclaimed, "Relentless Love!"

When the words ended, Petyr's blurry, semi-transparent figure lined itself with Kai's and vanished.

Kai could feel him, though. Another being was inside him like a parasite hibernating within an insect. When Kai breathed, he could feel Petyr breathing along with him. When Kai looked at things, he could feel Petyr's calm eyes at the back of his pupils.

With the knowledge of Lysa’s planned trip back to the Eyrie, Kai already had gotten all the proof he needed. So he almost turned around to go back, but then paused.

For an E+ Mission, wasn’t it too easy? Kai asked himself, narrowing his eyes.

By now, Kai had already confirmed one thing from Arlen, and then from Roland too.

A Mission Grade had never been, and would never be, a true measure of a Mission’s difficulty level. A Grade only told about the potential encounters, rewards, and opportunities that are available for a Contestant in the Random World.

Moreover, there were Contestants who had almost suffered a disaster in a lower Grade Mission, while brushing past a higher Grade Mission later.

So, when it came to difficulty, it all really depended on how a Contestant truly approached the Mission Objective.

Step! Click!!

The sound came abruptly. Kai sent the Book back to Inventory. He found a darker corner in the dark corridor and waited for the man to come out.

Petyr opened the door and walked out with a hood over his face. "Be ready," he whispered into the room. "I have already instructed the guards to escort you to the ship."

Only a light, sobbing grunt answered Petyr.

As he saw Petyr going downstairs, Kai suddenly thought of something which he hadn't planned. I got the proof against Lysa, he reflected. But this alone won't be enough to incriminate Petyr too.

The Hidden Mission mentioned nothing of the master of coin, Kai knew. Also, with the death prophecy looming over him, he would have never taken the risk.

But things had changed within these last moments. In the prophecy, he was just prey.

Now Kai could hope to become more than that.

A predator!

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

…

Kai followed Petyr Baelish on foot.

There was no other choice. Without knowing when and how the ambush would come, there was little sense in not conserving his MP if he wasn't inside the safety of walls.

There was one more man with Petyr, who looked like a personal bodyguard of some sort. But Kai felt as much danger from the man as he would have felt from a group of common guards. The only thing to be grateful for was that Petyr and his bodyguard were avoiding open areas, giving Kai no trouble to worry about being seen.

Kai couldn't fathom why the in-world Characters were so weak and yet didn’t get killed by the Contestants. Especially the Characters having major roles.

That black-armored guard with the prince was different, though, Kai recalled. I wonder if there is something I am missing in all this reasoning.

Petyr took a sharp right turn around a tall tower.

Kai waited for a little and then slithered against the wall, looking up and down. Suddenly, he felt like he had done this before.

A deja-vu!

Then, all hell went loose.

Kai had expected it. He had been waiting for it.

But never had Kai imagined that the prophecy would come so soon.

Goosebumps jutted out like thousands of thorns all over his body.

Time slowed down as it usually does when a man comes face to face with death.

The world constricted around Kai, and within a single second, he felt an unavoidable danger coming for him.

Kai's eyes widened, a tremor passing through his entire body.

In the Prophecy, he would die in the next moment. There, in the Blood Ocean, he had been powerless, his head exploding into a smithereens.

Now, though, a magnificent, but ancient bronze-colored shimmer burst around his head.

Bang!

*

*

A few minutes before,

Cuckoo couldn't comprehend why a fool would follow Petyr Baelish of all.

Aye, the castle guards can't spot him, she thought. But is he such an idiot to think that there aren't others monitoring the grounds?

It was common knowledge that most in-world Characters were under some kind of protection.

Contestants, starting from 2nd floor with no upper limit, always had one or other missions to act as Protection Task Force. Only a fool from 1st floor would act against these kind of characters, she knew.

Is he the same person who had kidnapped the Hand? Cuckoo asked herself.

She had been eying Petyr's surroundings from behind an arrowslit of a tower. She knew where Petyr had gone, and how long it would take him and his bodyguard to return.

But when he returned, she found an insect following him too.

Look at him, tch! Cuckoo mused herself, curling a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Idiot! … Handsome idiot!

Cuckoo took pride in her beauty.

Her hair was brown with trails of red here and there as if she had dyed them. Her eyes were light blue, her lips were full, and her breasts handful and firm.

Not to mention, the attire of Indiana Jones gave her a charm that could make many heads turn.

Cuckoo flicked her fedora hat for luck. She extended her slim right hand out of the arrowslit and aimed her finger at the man who had stopped at a place for no reason.

Well, whoever you are, goodbye, she said a silent prayer.

Cuckoo's hand twisted. Her flesh squirmed as if the muscle fibers of her hand were coming off by themselves. Then her entire hand became a longrifle. The rifle had a mixed metallic and wooden shine, but it also seemed to have a fleshy feel to it.

Bang!

Cuckoo's face paled before she saw the bullet hitting the target's head. She took out a blue pill and threw it inside her mouth, refilling the massive drop in her MP.

The rifle became a hand again as she pulled it in. She turned around, walking towards the long, spiral stairs.

She didn't care for the fate of her twice damned target.

None. No one had survived her ambush.

Cuckoo was the best sniper, and she would be the strongest Devil Fruit user of the Stormborn Empire, such were her ambitions. It didn't matter to her that other Contestants looked at her scornfully just because she was the daughter of a Set Lord.

The sudden frown on her face, though, seemed unwelcome.

What's taking it so long? Cuckoo asked herself. Where is the Notification of killing?

The possibility of the guy bleeding profusely, begging for his own death, made her shiver. She was beautiful, but she wasn't cruel. Her steps quickened to lift the man from his misery. If there was any loot, then she would take that too.

What the?! Cuckoo gasped.

There wasn't a body.

She ran, but she stopped meters away from the blood drops where the man should have been lying dead. Cuckoo sensed the rich Mana emanating from the blood drops which couldn’t belong to a newbie.

Magical Beast’s blood? She guessed.

Cuckoo followed the trail of blood drops, readying herself to fire another bullet. He couldn't have walked this far from the blood pool, she reflected. Something's off!

Her both wrists twisted and became two semi-automatic pistols.

Hissss!

What's that?! Cuckoo shivered at the whistling sound. Her hands itched to fire, but she shuddered thinking of the risks. If even one guard saw her, then her Abnormality Limiter would fall dangerously low. It just might get empty instantaneously.

"Who's there?" She demanded. "Sparrow, is it you? It's me. Cuckoo."

This couldn’t be the same man, Cuckoo was sure. She had seen the bullet making a direct contact with his head. With a 1st Contestant’s Stats, none could take it head on and then remain in a state of running away at least.

Hisssssss!

Something slithered in the corner of her eyes. She aimed both her pistols in that direction and would have fired uncaring of the consequences if it wasn’t for the darkness. Whatever it was, it was just too fast and slippery to remain in the shadows and yet making her Perception scream.

Twin-Saber Style…

"Who… Who's there? I… I am Set Lord's daughter…"

…. Giant Serpent's Severing Whiplash!

Cuckoo couldn’t hold back anymore, sensing the immense danger, and fired. But then she was falling, her pistols aimed at the vast night sky which she couldn't even see.

She saw two legs in her vision as her head impacted the ground. They were slender. Her eyes moved up the legs, but above the knees, there was nothing.

Only blood showered out of them in short, powerful bursts.

Then Cuckoo realized why they looked familiar.

They were her legs.

"Well, well," a rough, panting voice entered her ears; her soul. "Someone's being a little naughty bird."