100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 272

Chapter 272: Chapter 272 – Liberators
The Primordial Slime had spoken of Liberators long before Lucien ever set foot in the Big World.

That was the name it used for humans who came from another world. People like him and Marie. Humans who it has granted cheats. Humans given freedom of action and true free will.

The Primordial Slime did not bind them, nor did it obligate them to become heroes.

Lucien’s expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, something settled.

‘So there were already many of them.’

They were not scattered reincarnates acting alone but enough to form an organization. And he had never known… until now.

The black-robed leader watched him closely before continuing.

“We are,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “the watchers of this world.”

Lucien listened without interruption.

“We observe. We interfere only when necessary. When the Big World approaches a fate it cannot recover from… that is when our existence becomes known.”

The gaze beneath the hood sharpened.

“We prevent its destruction.”

Lucien remained silent.

The Liberators were not obligated to be saviors yet they had chosen that role anyway.

‘They have convictions,’ he noted.

But conviction does not mean alignment.

He had lived enough lives to understand that well-intentioned people could become the most dangerous threats of all.

Lucien exhaled softly.

Then he spoke.

“Unfortunately,” he said calmly, “we don’t share the same values.”

The words were not hostile. They were final.

“I don’t care about the fate of this world,” Lucien continued. “I care only about my people.”

The robed leader stilled.

Lucien’s gaze was steady.

“If the world collapses and takes them with it, I’ll change its fate myself. If it doesn’t threaten them, I won’t interfere.”

Silence stretched.

Then—

Laughter.

The black-robed leader laughed openly. The sound echoed through the Ark’s corridors. The groups glanced over in surprise, wondering what Lucien could have said to draw such a reaction.

When the laughter finally faded, the man wiped beneath his hood as if brushing away tears.

“That,” he said with amusement, “sounds incredibly chuunibyou.”

Lucien flinched.

That word dragged memories from the past. He remembered the notebook of cool lines that he burned. It was a history he would rather keep buried.

The leader noticed his subtle reaction.

His smile widened beneath the mask.

“I knew it,” he said lightly. “You’re a reincarnator too. You understood that.”

Lucien sighed inwardly.

‘So that was the trap.’

He neither confirmed nor denied it.

The robed leader chuckled.

“Relax. Even if it’s true, I won’t reveal it.”

Lucien looked at him again.

“Hypothetically,” he said smoothly, changing the subject, “what do I gain if I join your organization?”

The leader straightened.

“You remember the card I gave you?”

Lucien nodded.

“We’re building a connected network,” the man explained. “Across continents. Middle, North, East, South. We already have footholds everywhere.”

His voice lowered.

“Our people are disguised as merchants, cartels, clans… even schools and academies.”

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

“If you present that card to any affiliated branch,” the leader continued, “you receive immediate VIP clearance. Allies. Priority passage. Information access.”

He glanced toward the viewport.

“One of the reasons I’m here is to establish a branch. The West Continent is the only place where our network doesn’t yet exist.”

Then—

The robed leader frowned.

“…That’s strange.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

“I can’t feel the card,” the man said slowly. “Even if it’s hidden in a storage ring, I should be able to sense it.”

Lucien smiled faintly.

‘So they can’t detect it if it’s inside my inventory.’

With a thought, he summoned the card into his hand.

The robed leader’s eyes widened.

Lucien held it up casually.

“Looks like you need to improve it,” he said.

The man exhaled, shaking his head.

“You’re really not ordinary.”

Lucien tilted his head.

“So by giving me this… you already consider me an ally?”

The robed leader nodded without hesitation.

“You are.”

He paused, then added quietly—

“And I’ve never regretted trusting someone.”

Lucien did not answer right away.

He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more. The certainty in the man’s words, or how casually he had spoken them.

He studied the robed leader in silence.

“How were you so sure?” Lucien finally asked. “That I’m… human.”

The man did not seem surprised by the question.

As if he had been waiting for it.

“One of us,” he said, “specializes in divination.”

Lucien’s gaze sharpened.

“Besides establishing a network in the West Continent,” the leader continued, “I was given another task.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“A small world was destined to open here.”

Lucien nodded.

“What was strange,” the man went on, “was that our diviner could not identify the humans involved.”

Lucien felt a quiet click inside his mind.

“He foresaw two Liberators emerging,” the leader said. “Two humans. But for the first time… he could not see who they were.”

His eyes lifted slightly beneath the hood.

“No names. No faces. No origins.”

He exhaled once.

“So I was left to guess.”

His gaze shifted… not to Lucien’s face, but past him.

Toward Marie.

“And if there were two,” he said calmly, “I didn’t need to guess the second one.”

Lucien closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Then sighed.

“You should stop making assumptions,” he said. “I could just as easily be your enemy.”

The robed leader nodded.

“That possibility was considered.”

He did not sound bothered by it.

“Actually,” he continued, “our diviner also warned us about the Ruins of Stillness.”

Lucien’s eyes reopened.

“He prepared an offering for me,” the man said. “And I had to accomplish something there.”

His head tilted slightly.

“He saw the danger the ruins would bring to the world. But not its source.”

Then the man looked directly at Lucien.

“And now we know why.”

Lucien did not speak.

“The ancient beings,” the leader said quietly. “They would have brought chaos to the Big World. Their awakening would not have been… gentle.”

A pause.

“I don’t know what you did,” he admitted. “Or how far you went.”

Then, with quiet certainty—

“But you reduced the threat.”

Lucien felt no pride at the words. Only fatigue.

“That alone,” the man continued, “is enough for me to trust you.”

He lowered his voice.

“I didn’t need to reveal myself too early. You handled what we feared most.”

Lucien let out a slow breath.

“So you’re still hiding your strength,” he said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” the robed leader replied simply. “Revealing my strength fully would leave me barely breathing. Half-dead, at best.”

His tone remained matter-of-fact.

“The Red Dragon and the Dark Shade won’t be an immediate problem… for now.”

Lucien stared at the horizon.

‘That was… a lot.’

Diviners who could see fate. Ancient beings erased before chaos bloomed. An organization of reincarnated humans quietly holding the world together. And him… standing unknowingly at the center of it.

Everything he had just heard shifted the shape of the world.

Lucien rubbed his brow once.

“…That’s a lot to process,” he muttered.

The robed leader inclined his head slightly.

“I imagine it is.”

And for the first time—

Lucien realized something unsettling.

The world had been changing long before he arrived. And it would continue changing whether he chose to be involved or not.

The Solaris Ark continued its steady flight.

Outside, the world turned quietly.

And within it, another invisible thread had just been tied one that might one day decide the fate of worlds… whether Lucien cared about that fate or not.

•••

Back in the heart of the ruins—

Silence ruled.

The chamber remained exactly as it had been when the others vanished. The divine lines along the walls were frozen mid-pulse, the air held in a breath it had never released.

Eirene stood alone.

Before her, the indistinct figure hovered just above the ground.

She could feel it now.

Recognition.

The figure raised its hand. Eirene did the same.

The chamber responded.

Everything sank as though the world had dipped beneath a still lake.

The figure lifted from the ground, drifting upward with impossible grace. Its presence deepened, condensing into something smaller, sharper, and more absolute.

Then it moved.

Straight toward her.

Eirene did not step back.

The figure pressed into her forehead, passing through flesh, bone, and thought without resistance…

…and entered her spirit.

Her vision shattered.

Not into darkness but into memory.

The sanctuary vanished.

Memories returned in fragments.

And soon… pain followed.

Not just physical pain, but also the strain of being “complete.”

Then—

Clink.

A soft, resonant sound echoed within her soul.

Her necklace ignited.

The scale-shaped pendant at her chest bloomed with light, detaching itself and floating upward. It expanded, unfolding into a vast, ethereal balance.

Two pans were suspended in the air before her.

The scale tilted.

On one side poured her memories, her choices, her desires, her contradictions. Every hesitation. Every selfish thought. Every moment she had chosen mercy and every moment she had chosen to look away.

On the other side—

Stillness. Absolute, impersonal, and unforgiving.

The scale trembled.

Eirene gasped.

Her knees buckled as the weight increased. Her thoughts blurred. Her spirit strained, fibers creaking as if pulled toward collapse.

The scale leaned too far.

Her vision darkened at the edges.

If it tipped completely—

She would not die… she would be unmade.

Everything that was Eirene would dissolve into something no longer her.

Her hands clenched.

The scale shuddered.

And Eirene screamed as her spirit endured the moment that would decide whether she would return…

…or never be herself again.