I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-109

Ch-109

—

‘Who are you.’

Who could he be.

Someone who emerged from the labyrinth and is trusted by the fifth pillar?

That couldn’t be all. There had to be far more hidden.

And—

‘If he brought out something of that caliber, it means there’s something he wants.’

That confidence.

He showed everyone a unique-grade item.

The Throne of Light upon which the Sun God once sat.

Whether it came from the labyrinth or something he had personally owned, I didn’t know—but the confidence was overwhelming.

And not even on his own soil, but inside the Empire.

In front of countless nobles.

He would never have displayed it simply to show off, nor merely because he genuinely wanted a hundred billion gold.

His message was simple: *Show me something that can match this. If you can.*

*Is this all you’ve got? How disappointing.*

Fine. It was amusing.

If he had shown something of that magnitude, I had to show something he would covet in return.

But what should I show?

What item could shake him?

“Ah. And we’ve identified a new ‘criminal.’ How shall we proceed?”

Lord Darkan asked.

As if asking something obvious, the man in Seat 1 replied flatly,

“All ‘criminals’ are to be killed. That is the rule.”

Criminals. Players.

The rule was that every one of them had to be killed.

*

*

From the third day onward, the *quality* of the auction items began to change drastically.

Weapons and artifacts of Legendary grade and above poured down like rain.

Even Mythic-grade items appeared with surprising frequency.

The participants could not keep their mouths closed at the sight of treasures so dazzling they widened one’s eyes just by looking at them.

I was no different.

Among them—

“The next auction item is the ‘Baal Armor’! A piece believed to be related to ‘Baal of the Four Calamities,’ the one who recently brought down Delphia! Look at this fearsome silhouette, as though soaked in countless curses! Truly horrifying!”

…The Baal Armor had appeared as an auction item.

According to the Sword saint’s Journal of Swordsmanship, the Baal Armor was located somewhere within the Empire.

But it certainly wasn’t here, in Darkan Territory.

Something that hadn’t existed here had suddenly appeared.

Someone had brought it for auction.

And that someone was—

‘Number 1.’

The one recklessly dumping out items of at least Legendary grade.

Unless he had raided the Empire’s treasury itself, only he could produce such extraordinary artifacts and casually put them on auction.

‘He reacted to the Throne of Light.’

But he wouldn’t suddenly bring out high-tier goods for no reason.

Showing items at a price range that no one could reasonably absorb would only raise suspicion.

He must have begun acting after seeing the Throne of Light I offered yesterday.

He hadn’t been able to bid due to the auction’s ‘rules,’ but it seemed he still wanted a ‘look’—to see what *I* would react to.

‘He’s trying to figure out which item draws my interest.’

With items of this caliber, I was bound to react to at least one of them.

Especially the Baal Armor—a piece absolutely required to complete the ‘Baal Set.’

Even if I didn’t want to react, I would have no choice.

“Honored guests! The Baal Armor isn’t merely ominous! The grade assigned by our appraisal team is ‘Ultimate Mythic’! Among today’s items, we proudly present this as the greatest treasure! And because it is tied to ‘Baal of the Four Calamities,’ the ancient being who destroyed both the Mountain of Trainees and Delphian, we trust we need not explain its rarity!”

Ultimate Mythic.

And armor related to Baal of the Four Evils!

No matter how ominous it looked, it was almost impossible to see something like this at an auction.

“Ultimate Mythic? Isn’t that close to Unique grade?”

“The Four Calamities… those monsters who helped bring down the Old Empire…”

“Ha. And this is one of their treasures.”

Even the imperial nobles couldn’t help but be impressed.

The Baal Armor looked nothing like ordinary armor.

Black smoke rose from it like shimmering heat haze, endlessly.

At first it seemed unsettling, but after listening to the auctioneer’s explanation, it even felt… special.

“The starting bid is 500 million gold! Each raise must be at least 100 million! A treasure you will never regret. Only the chosen may possess it!”

A starting bid of 500 million gold.

Obviously, the number of people who could participate was limited.

FLAP!

Someone opened their auction fan.

“Honored Guest Number 3! As expected, your eye for treasure is extraordinary!”

Lady Dersian had joined the bidding again.

For two days straight, I remained fixed in Seat 2, and Lady Dersian in Seat 3.

Not intentional.

I simply bought every item that was worth its price, and ended up in Seat 2.

‘Even if something is sold, Number 1 remains indifferent. He doesn’t care.’

Number 1 still did not move.

He looked relaxed, as though it didn’t matter whether the items were sold or not.

“No more bids? The Baal Armor is absolutely worth more than a billion gold. And according to the records we’ve carefully examined over many years, the ‘Weapons of the Four Calamities’ are connected to the ‘Origin of the Four Calamities’ themselves! Aren’t you curious where they came from? Don’t you wish to know?”

I wanted to know. I was curious.

But even for imperial nobles, six hundred million gold was a heavy burden.

How many people came prepared to spend that much?

At most five.

…And I was one of them.

“Aaaahhhh!!!”

Then it happened.

A man suddenly leapt up from his seat, staring at empty air, horrified.

His complexion was pale, as though stricken with illness, and sweat flowed like rain.

He was one of the externally invited guests, seated on the far right.

Despite everyone’s attention, he screamed,

“G–Reaper of Death! Save me! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything, so please—just let me live!”

What nonsense was he suddenly spouting?

…Reaper of Death?

Immediately, he pointed to another participant.

“Number 53, that bastard! He’s also a ‘player’! He hid it with a mask, but I’m certain! So please—!”

THUD!

ROLL.

His severed head rolled across the floor.

I involuntarily frowned.

I couldn’t tell what had cut it off.

There had been no sign. No intent. No presence.

No one had even moved with murderous intent.

It had simply—fallen.

As if an invisible reaper had sliced it cleanly with a scythe.

“W-What?”

“What is happening?!”

People panicked.

Especially the ‘invited guests.’

Meanwhile, the imperial nobles and the auction staff acted completely unaffected.

A man had just died, yet they didn’t even look at him.

They turned away as though avoiding filth.

And—

‘…They’re smiling?’

…They were covering their mouths, smiling.

As if this was something familiar.

As if they were looking forward to what would happen next.

DING!

DING-LING!

Soon, black-hooded figures stormed into the auction hall.

Deep hoods and *fox masks of the same color.*

At their waists hung *black bells.*

They were the same bells the silver-fox-masked swordsman in the Abyssal Labyrinth had carried.

Surrounding the corpse, they lifted the bells and pressed their palms together.

DING-LING-LING-LING-LING-LING-LING!

They rang the bells incessantly while scattering some unknown white powder.

Then—

“W-What…!”

“H-His body is changing!”

The decapitated man’s appearance began to transform.

His face, his body, even his clothes—everything changed.

He became an entirely different person.

“……”

I was speechless.

Hudson too.

Because the form he took was unmistakably that of an Earthling.

A blond foreigner.

On his white T-shirt, the words *I’m Champion* were printed alongside a photo of his own face.

Anyone could tell he was an Earthling with a strong sense of self-love.

And he too lay dead, headless.

A grotesque, tragic sight.

“‘Criminal.’”

“‘Criminal.’”

“‘Criminal.’”

All the hooded figures repeated the same word.

Then—

DING.

Another figure appeared, wearing a silver fox mask.

He reached out toward the corpse.

In that instant—

CRACKLE! CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!

Lightning swirled around his hand, then shaped itself like the gaping jaws of a beast and devoured the corpse.

Once the ‘incineration’ was complete, they retreated from the auction hall.

“…We will temporarily suspend the auction.”

“Hold on! You owe us a proper explanation! Otherwise we will not remain here any longer!”

“That will not be possible, sir.”

One of the invited guests protested, but the auctioneer calmly shook his head.

“Not possible? What are you talking about?”

“Since a ‘criminal’ appeared within the territory, no one may leave. We must perform sterilization. Once all invited guests are judged ‘clean,’ you may leave.”

“I am not a criminal.”

“Yes. But these are the rules. We ask for your understanding.”

“Bullshit! I’ve never heard of such a rule!”

“Even if you refuse, it cannot be helped. By now, all the warps in the territory should already be disabled.”

“…What?”

They disabled *all* the warps?

A measure so extreme only someone desperate to sink everything into the Abyss would take it.

After completely identifying criminals and finishing ‘sterilization,’ they would release everyone.

Naturally, everyone’s gazes turned to one person.

The thing the dead man yelled right before dying.

That there was one more player. One more criminal.

Number 53.

…The Master.

The auctioneer spoke.

“Until the auction resumes, we ask that all guests please wait in the banquet hall.”

*

*

Everyone gathered in the banquet hall avoided Number 53.

Naturally.

No one wanted trouble for standing near someone accused of being a criminal.

The Master was frozen.

He had checked the warp and confirmed it was disabled.

There was nowhere to run.

Though he was a 2-star transcendent, this was Darkan Territory—home to Paladin Pamel and countless other powerhouses.

‘The black-hooded ones wearing same-colored fox masks, carrying black bells… They must be the Reaper Cult.’

But at the moment, I had no interest in the Master.

I had far too much to think about.

The sudden intrusion of the Reaper Cult.

Every one of them was a transcendent.

‘They were transcendent bearers of the Clover (♣) mark.’

The berserker Lady Dersian brought had the Spade (♠) mark.

Even among transcendents, the markings differed.

And it seemed the hierarchy followed the order of playing cards.

Clover (♣), Heart (♥), Diamond (◆), Spade (♠)—stronger or weaker depending on rank.

‘Do the transcendent bearers of card-marks wear fox masks?’

There had to be some criterion for wearing the fox mask.

Another strange thing—

‘Then the silver fox mask.’

The one who ‘incinerated’ the corpse.

He was a 2-star transcendent.

Just like the one I met in the Abyssal Labyrinth.

But he was not the same person.

‘A transcendent bearing the Spade mark *with a star.*’

【Lv.★♠】

A star-transcended individual who then performed a Spade-mark second transcendence.

It had become certain that the Empire had discovered a method of transcending not through a star, but through some other means.

But something bothered me intensely.

What I had seen.

The *lightning skill* that appeared during the incineration.

‘That skill was unmistakably…’

No—no, it couldn’t be, I told myself.

But there was no way I wouldn’t recognize that “unique skill.”

The one and only unique skill in existence—
the skill known as **Thunder Lion**, obtained only when the Grand Mage of Lightning transcends!

‘Thunder Lion is the unique skill of *Raishin Gangrim*.’

…My alternate character, Raishin Gangrim.

A transcended Grand Mage who freely commands all lightning-type spells.

But how could this be possible?

A 1-star transcendent had become a 2-star transcendent.

And on top of that, he had obtained a transcendence mark that wasn’t a star—
and had become an executor of the Reaper Cult.

On appearance alone, one would think he was a completely different person, but—
unique skills cannot exist in duplicate.

There can only be one in the entire world—hence the name “unique.”

Once someone has it, no one else can ever possess the same skill.

“Hey! I only came because I was invited!”

“If I had known, I never would’ve come!”

“What else can this be but imperial tyranny!”

People shouted their grievances.

This auction had never been a pure, innocent event to begin with.

Perhaps they had invited people they suspected of being “players.”

If so, Hudson too had become a target of suspicion.

“If you are not a ‘criminal,’ then prove it.”

“Just imagining filthy criminals in the same room makes me sick.”

The imperial nobles stood far away in the banquet hall.

Their faces twisted with disgust.

But “prove it”?
How does one prove they are *not* a player?

If we stayed silent, they would “judge” us however they pleased.

We had no idea what criteria they used to judge or decide anything.

Which meant—

Tap.

* …Where are you going?

Ignoring Hudson’s eyes, which seemed to say exactly that, I walked toward the center.

“Do not come any closer.”

“Where do you think the ‘suspect’ is going?!”

The closer I approached, the more distorted the imperial citizens’ expressions became.

But that had nothing to do with me.

There was only one person I cared about.

* Oh? Why have you reconnected what I cut off?

The man in Seat 1.

As I approached him head-on and reconnected the **Line of Golden Ratio** to him, he looked at me with interest.

And then, right before him, I took *it* out.

* An Imperial Token? And what exactly are you trying to accomplish by showing that to me?

The Imperial Token I had received from the Silver Fox Mask in the Abyssal Labyrinth.

He questioned me as if unimpressed—what was I expecting to do by showing him this?

But this was not an ordinary Imperial Token.

As though recognizing something, the man in Seat 1 studied it once more—
and this time, his pupils trembled faintly.

* Hm? Wait. This mark… this is…!

 

 

---