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100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 225

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  3. 100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?
  4. Chapter 225 - Chapter 225: Chapter 225 - 1st Place
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Chapter 225: Chapter 225 – 1st Place
The moment spatial travel collapsed, every pair leapt onto the rising platforms.

Lythrae’s cushion glided in first. Sskavyrn and his partner bounded up jagged steps with reptilian ferocity. The monks floated in balance-perfect arcs.

Three pairs converged on Lilith and her partner from every direction.

Yet, she didn’t even flinch.

“Let them come,” she muttered.

Her horn ignited and her aura surged.

The entire ring braced… because a four-way midair war was about to detonate around her.

Meanwhile…

Lucien’s fingers twitched.

His voice dropped low.

“Marie.”

“I know,” she breathed. “I’m ready.”

His Perfect Calculation locked onto one razor-thin opening.

One path no one else could see.

Marie’s tail thrashed with wolfish excitement.

“Let’s steal destiny right out of their hands.”

They didn’t jump into the sky battle. They didn’t fight for the keys. They didn’t join the chaos.

Because Lucien already knew where another key would appear.

Marie followed close. Their Astral Chain hummed between them.

She whispered.

“This feels like we’re cheating.”

Lucien grinned.

“We’re just choosing our fight.”

“And our loot,” Marie added proudly.

He grinned.

“That too.”

Above them, the sky burned with starlight, fire arcs, runic explosions, and spear trail.

But Lucien and Marie slipped into the shadow of the next rotating pillar.

Exactly as planned.

The crowd caught on first—

“WAIT—WHERE ARE THE VERDANT VEIL WOLVES?!”

“THEY’RE GONE—DID THEY RUN?!”

“NO—LOOK—THE WOLVES WERE MOVING SOMEWHERE ELSE—!!”

Eirene leaned forward as her eyes narrowed in understanding.

“I knew they were planning something…”

•••

While the clashes erupted, Lucien and Marie moved like thieves beneath a storm.

They ducked under shifting bridges, hopped between rotating tiles, and slipped through timing gaps as if the maze was built around their footsteps.

Lucien whispered.

“Three seconds.”

Marie tightened her grip on his sleeve.

“Alright. I trust you.”

The Astral Chain glimmered faintly between them. A reminder that even in stealth, they had to move as one.

Lucien’s smile sharpened.

“Good. Because the next key drops right… there.”

He pointed to the base of a rising pillar, moments before light began crawling across its surface.

Marie’s eyes widened.

“That soon?”

They readied themselves.

•••

Below, the center of the ring became a battlefield that refused to end.

The black-robed women cut through everyone with ghost-silent precision.

And finally… the two ghostly women secured the key.

One fluid motion. One clean interception. No theatrics.

They held it.

And instead of finishing the fight below… they turned and rose.

Their steps were weightless and their chain flowed behind them like a wraith’s tether.

They ascended toward the upper rings… toward the Ascension Gate.

The crowd crackled with electricity.

“THEY’RE ADVANCING—THEY’RE SKIPPING THE CLASH?!”

“THOSE BLACK-ROBED MONSTERS ARE CLIMBING STRAIGHT FOR THE GATE—!!”

But the sudden calm below spoke volumes.

The Obsidian Collegium Scholars stood frozen mid-stance.

The elder exhaled slowly through his nose.

“…At this pace, catching up to them would be inefficient.”

The younger nodded. His shoulders sunk, not in defeat but in analysis.

Then his third eye twitched.

He caught a flicker of movement.

Lucien.

“Senior Brother,” he murmured, “the wolf brother found another key-signature.”

The elder turned sharply.

“Junior Brother… you are not suggesting we steal from him, are you?”

His voice grew firm.

“We have already wronged him once. To do so again would be disgraceful. A scholar does not repeat the same error.”

The junior immediately shook his head.

“No. That was not my intent.”

His tone sharpened with conviction.

“I meant, we should look for another key ourselves. This trial rewards intellect. There must be more hidden somewhere.”

The elder frowned.

“We don’t even know if another exists.”

The junior’s third eye gleamed faintly.

“Then let me reason it out.”

He pointed subtly toward Lucien.

“You saw how calm he remained earlier. He even negotiated with the Starforge lady. That level of confidence suggests foreknowledge.”

The elder’s expression shifted.

“…Meaning he knew multiple locations.”

The junior clicked his tongue.

“We should’ve noticed sooner.”

“Well, we only fought for the first one because we found it first. We never accounted for others stealing it.”

The elder then rubbed his temples.

“So… should we ask him directly?”

The junior gave a small grin. A competitive but respectful grin.

“No. I refuse to believe the Obsidian Collegium cannot solve the spire on our own.”

He lifted his chin.

“And besides… I don’t want to lose to the wolf brother again.”

“That’s the spirit.”

It’s a gamble.

But they stayed behind… trusting intellect over a chase they weren’t sure to win.

And right above them, they had no idea who waited in the shadows.

•••

A faint ripple brushed the air.

Too small to be danger. Too ordinary to be worth a second glance.

Just… a disturbance so subtle the mind filed it away as nothing.

A pair stood inside that nothing.

A pair completely forgotten by the crowd… and even more terrifying… forgotten by the contenders themselves.

The shaved-head traitor had ascended into the middle ring long ago, waiting.

No one ever realized he was already there.

He simply lived in the blind spot of attention, the way people ignore a loose stone on the road.

The old discipline from a school no one remembered:

Misdirection.

He leaned forward with a tiny smirk.

“…They turned their back. Brave of them. Or perhaps, arrogant.”

Ahead of him, the black-robed women ascended.

They climbed with that terrifying, surgical precision everyone feared.

But dominance had one flaw…

It made them assume only threats would approach them.

Not… a nobody.

The shaved-head traitor’s steps were soft.

Not stealthy… just so mundane they didn’t register.

His presence dimmed. His intent dissolved. His aura flattened into absolute normalcy… like a pebble on the road.

Somewhere deep inside, a faint inner thread tugged.

His other trick.

A sense honed over countless close calls, a skill that told him when an opportunity appeared.

It whispered now.

Here.

When he drifted close enough, he weaponized his invisibility.

A flick of his wrist. A bump of the shoulder.

A murmur like: “Oops—sorry, passing through—”

And the key slid cleanly into his palm.

He didn’t run. Didn’t sprint. Didn’t even celebrate.

He simply adjusted his unconscious partner on his back…

…and kept climbing as if he’d picked up someone’s dropped wallet.

The arena detonated.

“WHAT—WHAT—WAIT—WHAT?!”

“THAT BALD MAN IS ACTUALLY THERE—HE STOLE IT?!”

“FROM THEM?!”

“THE BLACK-ROBED WOMEN DIDN’T NOTICE?!”

Even the crowd couldn’t process it.

The black-robed women froze.

Below, the battlefield raged…

Lilith clashed with spears and moonlight as the monks shattered space with their bell.

Meanwhile, the dawnblade duo and Scarlet disciples carved the air apart towards the black robed women…

When those pairs looked up and saw the theft?

Their faces twisted in disbelief.

The traitor climbed calmly. His unconscious partner swung behind him like luggage.

He moved one platform at a time, never rushing, never stumbling… as if the chaos below existed in another world entirely.

By the time the others committed to the aerial war… he was already near the top, the ring just beneath the Ascension Gate.

But the others would not let him go so easily.

The two black-robed women snapped their heads toward him mechanically. Their movements were jagged and unnatural like frustration in a body that did not know how to feel it.

They increased speed instantly.

Scarlet senior sister exploded into action.

“HE GOT IT—HE GOT IT—CHASE!!”

The Dawnblades launched upward.

Shadows followed. Fire blasts followed. Dawnlight beams followed.

And the shaved-head traitor… slipped through their attacks like he was dodging pigeons in a marketplace.

A stumble avoided a blade.

A shift in balance made a magic spell fly past.

His unconscious partner swung like the world’s funniest accidental shield.

If it was luck… it was luck refined into a martial art.

“HOW IS HE ALIVE?!”

“THAT SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM!!”

“NO NORMAL INSTINCT IS THAT GOOD!!!”

He climbed through collapsing stairs, rotating rings, two near-fatal explosions… leaving behind nothing but disbelief.

Frustration crept into every pursuer’s eyes.

Just then…

The shaved-head traitor reached the top.

The moment his foot touched the final ring, something unexpected occurred. It’s like he has pressed a switch.

Light crawled up every competitor’s limbs.

A suppression endured throughout the trials loosened…

…then broke.

Their Laws responded again.

The traitor felt it a heartbeat later.

A faint glow. A heaviness that wasn’t gravity. A familiar wrongness righting itself in his bones.

“…So that’s how it is,” he murmured…

…and a huge grin spread across his face.

He smiled like someone who’d finally been allowed to breathe.

“Oh good. I can stop pretending.”

A heel strike came for his spine.

The others had caught up… and they too felt their Laws awaken.

“Our Laws—it’s back!”

“Quick! Don’t let him run!”

Ghostly swords flashed.

A dawn-forged blade slashed.

Scarlet fire spiraled.

The shaved-head traitor tapped one finger to the ground.

His Law answered.

The air warped. Reality kinked. A distortion rippled behind him like the wake of a serpent.

Then—

FWOOOM—

He vanished forward.

It’s not teleportation nor is it speed.It felt like the world had accidentally misplaced him.

He reappeared halfway across the ring.

Another ripple.

Another skip.

Another impossible movement.

The crowd went feral.

“THEIR LAWS ARE BACK?!”

“WHAT IS THAT LAW?!”

“SPACE? TIME? ILLUSION?!”

“NO—IT’S LIKE REALITY FORGETS WHERE HE WAS!!”

“HE’S A BUG IN CREATION—A GLITCH—!!”

Even the black-robed women failed to hit him.

They froze… just for half a heartbeat.

Then everyone unleashed a united attack meant to kill him.

The traitor ran.

Except… it didn’t look like running for his life.

He moved like a man weaving through a busy market.

A half-stumble dodged a sword.

A misstep ducked a cleaving blade.

A shift in balance let a fire beam scrape only wind.

His unconscious partner bounced behind him, accidentally deflecting a rogue flame in a way that made the crowd shriek.

Then—

The traitor reappeared before the Ascension Gate.

He raised the key. And slid it into the slot.

The Ascension Gate shuddered.

Light pulsed from its core.

An ancient mechanism responded… a condition the trial had been waiting for since the first step.

A deep, resonant hum rolled through every ring.

The sky itself lit with script and the image of the winner.

FIRST PAIR TO REACH THE ASCENSION GATE:

— SHAVED-HEAD TRAITOR & PARTNER —

A pulse swept the world.

Silence fell.

Truly fell.

Then—

Sound crashed back like a tidal wave.

“NO WAY—NO WAY—NO WAY!!”

“HE DID IT?!”

“WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THIS?!”

“I DON’T BELIEVE THIS?!”

“HE’S ACTUALLY THE REAL DARK HORSE?!”

Even the contenders paused.

Everyone stared upward.

All eyes widened.

On the lower ring, Marie’s ears flattened.

“…Luc. That bald man actually did it! They were indeed plotting something. Sigh, I guess we failed to get first place this time!”

Lucien let out a long breath.

“I told you,” he said quietly. “People like him don’t survive by luck… We gotta hurry too…”

The elites froze.

The spectators shook.

Some of the pairs nearly slipped off the platforms.

And the traitor?

He just tightened his grip on the unconscious partner he’d knocked out earlier.

Then, he smirked softly like someone who’d been underestimated his entire life…

…and finally enjoyed the payoff.

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