Chapter 34: Crisis, Regret, and Counter…
“That was close!”
Reeling from the powerful impact to his chest, Turner quickly retreated, clutching the spot and feeling for the lucky coin within.
He stared in shock at the figure before him—clad in blood-red armor, yet possessing the stealth of a master. He couldn’t tell if this person was a warrior or a rogue.
Thank goodness for this. I’d be dead without it!
I’m blessed!
Confirming his lucky coin was still there, Turner felt his confidence return.
His eyes widened. The searing pain in his chest ignited his vicious nature, and he glared fiercely at Shelley.
“It’s fine. My luck will hold, just like always!”
“Kill him, and that item is mine!”
Shelley had expected the annoying thief to retreat after a failed attack, but to his surprise, the man charged forward again, his face a mask of malice.
“You know you can’t beat me, yet you keep coming…”
“Are you provoking me?!”
“You’re getting addicted to this, aren’t you?!”
Although the thief’s stealth was impressive, and he seemed to have some special abilities, Shelley had already analyzed him after their first exchange.
The man before him wasn’t weak, but he had only just entered the third rank, with a professional level of around 12. And while his aura was a bit strange, he didn’t seem to have much in the way of magical equipment.
In short, he might have had some lucky breaks, but he was still weak.
Despite the large level difference between them, Shelley wasn’t worried.
I know your playbook better than you do! As long as I have that advantage, you can’t do a thing to me!
And when it comes to strength, I have the absolute advantage!
Shelley fearlessly charged back, planning to first crush him with his superior strength and then torment him with his vast experience.
This is a veteran player on a new account, schooling a newbie in the starting zone!
CRACK!
“Not again!”
This time, the roof under his left foot gave way, creating a large hole. Shelley stumbled again, and once more, Turner seized the opportunity to dodge the assassination attempt hidden within his feint.
At that moment, Shelley sensed that something was very wrong.
Something was off. Very off.
Pulling his left leg free, Shelley stood on the dilapidated roof, dagger in hand, thinking hard.
The first time could have been an accident. The second time, definitely not. I was very careful with my footing.
This roof might be old, but it can’t be this fragile.
“…Am I just especially unlucky today?”
[Did you use up all your luck on women?]
“…Luck!”
As if grasping a hidden detail, Shelley’s eyes lit up. He quickly lowered his gaze, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything.
A natural talent? Does he have Halfling blood?
Halflings, sometimes called Hobbits, were short in stature. Though they looked like young children, they were far more cunning. They were natural optimists, artists, and gourmands. They loved to boast and seek adventure, and their inherently good-natured curiosity and hospitality made them excellent adventuring companions.
Frodo and Sam from The Lord of the Rings were Halflings, a race worthy of producing legendary heroes.
Most Halflings lived in the region of the Shire, enjoying their lives and rarely waging war. They loved life’s pleasures and often spent most of their money on expensive luxuries to adorn their homes. Furthermore, the matron deity of the Halflings, Yondalla the Protector, possessed the might of a greater god. She was powerful enough to shield her people from oppression, allowing them to live in freedom.
There was a Halfling proverb: “First came the dragons, then the dwarves, then the elves, then the humans! Next, the world will be ours!”
They firmly believed that things would always turn out in their favor. This became their defining characteristic—confident and resolute, though often prone to petty theft.
They were exceptionally talented as rogues. Their small size granted them superior stealth, and the thick pads on their feet muffled their footsteps to a near-silent tread. In many human thieves’ guilds, the guildmaster was often a small, child-like figure who could move with ease in spaces larger men could not enter.
And, as a race born with innate luck, Halflings had always been favored by fortune.
[Hero’s Luck]: Your luck allows you to turn disaster into fortune in the most dangerous of moments!
“But it shouldn’t be this ridiculous!”
He dodged two fatal attacks…
On the surface, Shelley pretended to charge at Turner in a rage, but inwardly, he had calmed down completely.
But if you think luck can save you forever…
Then you are sorely mistaken!
CRACK!
After another “slip-up,” Shelley’s legs were both stuck in the roof. He flailed his arms, propping himself up to keep from falling through.
“Everything you have is mine!”
Seeing the wide-open back Shelley presented, Turner’s face twisted into a savage grin as he rushed forward.
“Die!”
Fzzt! Fzzt! Fzzt! Fzzt!
Four bolts of white energy flew out from Shelley’s blind spot, piercing straight through Turner’s body.
“Gah! Cough, cough…”
Clutching his chest, Turner looked down in disbelief at the gaping holes in his torso.
The four wounds, each over five centimeters in diameter, had pierced clean through him. He could see the scenery behind him through his own body.
“A… mage?”
Thud!
He collapsed to his knees on the roof. Even then, he didn’t lose consciousness completely. He stared in confusion at Shelley’s back, and with a final burst of life, he cried out:
“Why!?”
“Cough… cough, cough…”
“Im… possible…”
“I wasn’t… supposed to die in a place like this…”
“Please, save me… I’ll…”
There was still so much I wanted to do. I wanted to save enough money to stop being a thief! I was so close, I had it all stashed away… I was going to be a country squire and marry five or six wives! And have seven or eight beautiful maids. I was already planning to ‘accidentally’ walk into the wrong room every few days… I wanted to get a dog, just like the one I raised as a kid, the one who shared the same piece of moldy bread with me, who got chased out of the shop with me… a dog that wouldn’t betray me, wouldn’t backstab me, wouldn’t…
Ah…
I’m so sick of this life filled with darkness!
If… if I had another choice, next time, I would definitely…
“Well now, you’re still kicking?”
A sharp dagger plunged into Turner’s throat and was withdrawn just as quickly.
“Gotta make sure to finish the job. Can’t let the villain survive.”
“I’m not about to let you live for another fifty or sixty episodes.”
Shelley watched Turner, who seemed to be trying to say something in his final moments. He tilted his head, crouched down in front of him, and said softly, “A sudden change of heart? Ready to drop your weapons and become a saint?”
He viciously stabbed the blood-stained dagger into the roof beam in front of Turner’s face.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, shall we?”
“If people like you could be redeemed just by regretting your actions and saying, ‘I was wrong, I’ll change!’…”
“Then what about the innocent people who died horribly because of you? How are they supposed to get their salvation?”
His tone was dripping with deep sarcasm. Shelley’s face was a mask of pure contempt.
“And let’s be honest, you don’t regret the things you’ve done. You just…”
“Regret that you messed up and got yourself killed.”
Shelley’s right hand brushed past Turner’s eyes, but instead of closing them, he twisted the man’s head to face his own.
His eyes were ice-cold as he whispered, “Go repent in Hell, sinner.”
