100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 221

Chapter 221: Chapter 221 – Phase 2
Light swallowed Lucien and Marie.

The world flipped like a page and gravity rewrote itself mid-breath.

Then—

They hit something solid.

Marie sucked in a breath beside him.

“…Okay. That’s new.”

They were no longer on the broken plains below.

They were standing on the inverted stone disk they’d seen from afar… Only now, from inside its world.

Above the real arena, the crowd watched, awestruck, as the viewing windows shifted. Perspectives snapped from the beast-filled valley up into a dizzying new structure.

Gasps rippled.

“Did they just go up?”

“No… look, that’s the floating disk from earlier!”

“Is that… a castle turned inside-out?!”

Inside the disk, the view was surreal.

They stood on a wide circular platform but beyond its edge there was no sky. Instead, pillars of black stone plunged downward into a glowing void and other platforms hung at odd angles. They are connected by thin bridges, spinning rings, and shifting stairways that sometimes led sideways, sometimes vertically, sometimes… nowhere at all.

It looked like someone had taken a fortress, shattered it into islands then hung the pieces in midair and told gravity to improvise.

Some platforms were lined with glowing runes, rotating like clock-gears.

Others were smooth and quiet but their edges flickered as if they might vanish at any moment.

Marie whistled low.

“This is… an upside-down nightmare puzzle. It’s like… the Infinity Castle.”

Lucien agreed silently.

The air itself felt wrong.

Distances bent. Echoes lingered from directions that shouldn’t exist. If you stared too long at a bridge, it looked like it was moving even when it wasn’t.

Just then—

The Trial made its next move.

A ring of light swept through the disk.

It passed through Lucien and Marie like cold water.

They dropped into a stance.

Then they realized something major…

Pain didn’t hit. But disorientation did.

Lucien’s world went black.

Not dim. Not blurred. Just gone.

“What?! This is… We weren’t warned about this.”

His sight was cut off completely and with it came a strange muffling of his instincts… like someone had thrown a blanket over the part of him that always tracked danger.

“Oh, shit…”

Still… his other senses remained.

At the same time, Marie’s legs buckled.

“Eh—?!”

Her body went completely limp from the waist down. She would’ve collapsed if Lucien hadn’t tightened his grip.

He caught her automatically. One arm under her shoulders, one under her knees.

Marie blinked then gave a weak laugh.

“Oh. I see. If this were real life, we’d basically be… a blind guy and a cripple.” She poked his chest. “Good news, Luc. We can take care of each other when we’re old,” she teased.

Lucien huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh.

“…We’re starting early, then.”

Then he became serious.

“I see what this is about now… what a cruel handicap for Phase 2. Synergy Trial, huh.”

Then…

He shifted Marie into a firm princess carry.

“Hey wait! I’m not ready!”

“Stop complaining, this is the only way we can proceed. You become my eyes, I’ll become your feet.”

Marie felt embarrassed for the first time.

“Hmp. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.”

“Aye aye, princess.”

“Sigh. Can’t be bothered anymore.”

His muscles adjusted to the weight easily.

Sightless, instincts dulled… but his body was still at full strength.

Marie wriggled to get comfortable, then looked around.

“I can see. You can move. Sigh. We’re definitely handicapped.”

She glanced down at their ankles.

The Astral Chain glowed once… then faded almost completely.

But when she experimentally stretched her leg, the barely-visible chain went taut, humming with warning.

“Still one meter max,” she muttered. “If you throw me, you’re going with me.”

“And if I let you fall, I go with you,” Lucien replied. “Fair trade.”

•••

The others had also successfully reached Phase 2.

All around them, other pairs reacted as their own random handicaps kicked in.

On a nearby platform—

Lythrae sat serenely on her floating pillow as the Moonlit Maiden beside her blinked in confusion.

“I… can’t hear anything,” the Maiden mouthed.

Lythrae tested her own voice and flinched.

“I can hear everything,” she murmured, pressing fingers to her temple. “Even the runes humming.”

They exchanged a look.

To those who practiced Stillness, oversensitive senses were a nightmare. Her eyes turned sharp for the first time as her mood shifted.

There was no choice for her but to rely on her junior sister.

They adjusted without complaint. Lythrae tapped the cushion twice for “move,” once for “stop.”

•••

The Silent Monastery pair fared worse.

The junior brother’s sight flickered in and out, replaced with afterimages.

The monk himself found his balance misaligned as if gravity leaned two degrees to the left.

They wobbled, bowed, tried to sync their breathing…

…and nearly walked off the edge of their platform on the first step.

“Oof,” Marie whispered. “Rough start.”

•••

The Obsidian scholars’ runes flared then dimmed.

The Fourth Scholar saw a faint map overlay in the air… lines, nodes, paths… but everything close to him was blurred.

The third-eyed junior could see everything near with perfect clarity… but anything beyond five meters looked like an impressionist painting.

“Shared perception model,” the Fourth Scholar muttered. “We’re going to hate this and love it.”

They immediately began calculating routes with eerie speed.

•••

Sskavyrn bared his fangs as his vision tinted silver.

“Depth… gone,” he hissed.

His reptilian partner blinked.

“I can see the traps glowing, but my legs feel like they’re in syrup.”

They tested a few steps and adjusted. Sskavyrn called timing, his partner marked where not to step.

•••

The Scarlet siblings’ curse was cruelly simple.

Every time they raised their voices above normal speech…

The Astral Chain shortened.

They tried to argue.

The chain snapped them together so hard they headbutted, then winced in unison.

“…We speak calmly now,” the fiery sister whispered through gritted teeth.

“…Fine. It’s you who was always raising your voice, anyway,” her brother whispered back.

“You’re lucky we’re here now… or else…”

•••

Lilith and her Star-Forge prodigy?

The prodigy’s space sense got scrambled and distances lied to him.

Lilith’s usual arsenal of artifacts refused to activate unless the prodigy gave the command.

She sighed.

“So I have the hands and you have the keys. Annoying.”

“…We’ll manage,” he said, trying very hard not to look smug.

•••

The shaved-head traitor and his regretful partner looked dazed.

The traitor tested a step and felt something yank at his mind.

His path drifted toward every wrong turn. Traps and dead-ends felt enticing.

His partner, on the other hand, saw faint glimmers where illusions lay… but every time he opened his mouth to warn, his tongue twisted the message.

“Left! I mean right—no—up—!!”

The traitor stared at him.

“…You’re cursed to lie?”

“I DON’T KNOW BUT I HATE THIS—!!”

They locked eyes.

And somewhere in that moment of mutual loathing, the traitor made a decision.

“Sorry,” he said flatly.

“Eh—?”

THUNK.

He chopped the man neatly on the neck.

The regretful independent went limp.

The crowd watching through the window screamed.

“HE KNOCKED HIM OUT?!”

“IS THAT ALLOWED?!”

“I mean… technically they’re still a pair…?”

The chain stayed intact.

The traitor hefted his unconscious partner over his shoulder like luggage.

With only one active will tugging the bond, the curse shifted. His mind stopped being dragged toward every wrong path.

He grinned.

“You won’t talk us into traps now, at least.”

It was vile.

It was ugly.

And annoyingly, it worked.

•••

Then there were the black-robed women, who were the first to arrive in Phase 2.

Earlier, everyone watched as the light ring washed over them—

—and nothing happened.

No stagger. No blink. No visible change.

They simply turned and began walking. Their steps were perfectly measured.

No handicap took hold.

The crowd went quiet for a second.

“…Did the curse… miss them?”

“That’s impossible, right?”

“Just what exactly are they?”

•••

Lucien adjusted his grip on Marie, bringing her a little higher in his arms.

“Tell me what you see.”

She shifted with her arms looping around his neck for balance.

“Okay… We’re on a wide platform. Three paths ahead,” she said slowly. “Left… looks safe but the air ripples. Middle… broken bridge, rotating segments. Right… stairway that goes up, then sideways, then maybe nowhere?”

“Dungeon logic,” Lucien muttered. “Which means the obvious choice is wrong, and the safe one is a trap.”

Marie squinted.

“I think the middle is the real one. But there are illusions. Too many.”

She hesitated and he heard it.

Her certainty wavered.

Lucien’s instincts were dulled. He couldn’t feel the environment well enough to confirm.

So he reached into his Inventory. Good thing is that he can access his system in his mind.

A small, unassuming telescope dropped into his hand.

“Here,” he said, lifting it. “Use this.”

Marie blinked.

“A telescope?”

He nodded.

“Sees through illusions and barriers.”

She pressed it to one eye and the world snapped into clarity.

False bridges became translucent.

Real platforms solidified.

Hidden runes flared visible crimson.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, this is cheating.”

“Good,” Lucien said. “We’re due.”

She laughed and pointed.

“Middle path. The ‘broken’ sections are real. The ‘safe’ parts on the left? All fake ledges. Anyone who steps there falls straight through.”

Lucien turned his head slightly.

“Then guide me.”

She squeezed his shoulder twice.

“Forward. Three steps. Small ones—there’s a gap after.”

He moved.

He followed every instruction.

“Half-step left. Turn your torso. There’s a moving platform in… three, two… now.”

Her voice brushed his ear as he stepped out into nothing—

—and landed on a stone slab that hadn’t been there a heartbeat ago.

“What about the chain?” he asked quietly.

Marie shifted her weight to help him balance.

“I’ll tug when you have to duck,” she said. “Or lean. Think of me as your… directional accessory.”

He snorted.

“A very loud compass.”

“Rude. Accurate. But rude.”