That Was Way Too Shameless, Wasn't It!?

Spell Resistance?

Upon hearing this word...

Roger felt an immediate sense of unease.

Very soon.

The scene of Slaughter Mask being Rupture Palm flashed before his eyes again.

It was a face exactly like mine...

"No way?"

"No way!"

Roger rubbed his temples, looking a bit troubled.

Surely it's not going to be another drama about your past or future self?

This is not scientific!

Roger was certain.

At least in terms of personality and principles.

He and Slaughter Mask are two completely different people.

There are just too many similar things.

So he couldn't help but ask, "Is there any other news?"

"For example, his resilience? His resurrection ability? His reflexes?"

Ripley didn't think much of it.

He simply answered honestly, "I don't know."

That rumor was incomplete.

I obtained it from the middleman's middleman.

I'm still trying to find the real source of this information.

However, I'm not very confident.

After all, this is important for the Future Organization.

What happened 30 years ago was more than just a disgrace.

It even shook the very foundations of their rule...

Roger nodded.

So we didn't delve any further into this topic.

In general.

Their strategy of using back channels did yield some results.

At the very least, we learned some previously unknown information about Slaughter Mask.

They chatted for a while longer.

The conversation gradually shifted to the Pumpkin Town celebration.

Not far away.

A young man wearing a black mask swaggered past.

Look at the mask on his face.

Ripley looked surprised:

"That's not..."

"That's the same mask as Slaughter Mask."

Roger said with certainty.

Then, as if by magic, he waved the black mask in his hand.

He explained with a blank expression:

"On part of Sky Island."

The deeds of Slaughter Mask have been romanticized.

Many young people in the non-teacher community regard him as a true hero.

They admired him greatly.

In areas like Pumpkin Town, where there are relatively few mages.

Many people wear this kind of mask at the celebration.

One aspect is a commemoration of the Slaughter Mask.

On the other hand, it was a silent protest against the Buddhist community.

"I miscalculated."

"I originally thought I could disguise myself as the Slaughter Mask and deceive people."

"I never expected that at such a small Pumpkin Town Celebration, there would be so many people wearing the same mask!"

"These things are sold at the stalls around here, and they're very cheap!"

"Almost every young person has one!"

Looking at Roger's helpless expression.

For the first time, Ripley revealed a gloating smile.

But he stopped quickly.

This moment.

He demonstrated exceptional facial expression control.

And when he encountered Roger's disapproving gaze.

He skillfully changed the subject. "On another note..."

Why is this mask priced so low?

"I mean, the world's production system doesn't seem to allow such exquisite masks to become cheap commodities..."

Roger nodded slightly.

Ripley's insight is still very sharp.

Regarding this point.

He had already done his research.

He then explained:

"You'd have to ask the owner of Butterfly Island."

"He single-handedly funded the Pumpkin Town Celebration."

"The masks sold at the stall were naturally made by him as well."

Talking to smart people is simple.

Ripley, that old fox, immediately showed a knowing look on his face. "That alchemist? I understand."

"After the Slaughter Mask incident, the most injured were undoubtedly the mage class, but the biggest beneficiaries were not ordinary people, but another group represented by him..."

Roger narrowed his eyes.

He agreed, "That's right, they are alchemists."

After the Slaughter Mask incident occurred.

The organization made further compromises with non-teacher groups in the future.

They not only gave up more of Sky Island's resources.

It also fostered a group of alchemists as a buffer between non-spellcaster professions.

From a conceptual perspective

Most mages look down on alchemists, who are mostly pragmatists.

The latter's efficiency and ability in using Dream Ether are far inferior to those of a pure Magic Net Mage.

In terms of daily life.

Alchemists are also more approachable than Magic Net Mage.

Some of the current non-magic island lords are alchemists.

This is evident.

They were the biggest beneficiaries of that incident.

From this perspective...

It wouldn't be unreasonable for the alchemists to commemorate Slaughter Mask.

What Roger cared about was...

In this public setting, they tacitly commemorate the Future Organization's arch-enemy.

The latter, however, did not react at all.

Does this mean that the Floating Island are currently in use?

Are the alchemists' influence far greater than it appears on the surface?...

"Be careful of that alchemist."

Roger concluded cautiously.

After saying that.

He joked with Ripley, "Want to sign up for the Thieves' Tournament together?"

The Drow Ranger shook his head. "I can't pick locks or steal, so let's just forget about it."

"And I'm planning to make some noise..."

Roger frowned. "Hmm?"

But he instantly understood the other party's intention.

He gave Ripley a wink.

The next second.

The figure of the Drow Ranger vanished silently from the spot.

After a while.

A Eye of Surveillance swept arrogantly over Roger's head.

It stayed in place for a while.

They failed to discover Roger, who had entered a "Concealment" state.

They then headed in the direction of the traces Ripley had deliberately left behind.

"We really need to be careful of that alchemist!"

A long time passed.

Ripley's voice then quietly reached Roger's ears.

At that time.

Roger had quietly blended into the crowd at the Pumpkin Town Celebration.

He blended in with a group of ordinary people.

Roger was completely invisible.

On the surface.

He enjoyed the festive atmosphere just like everyone else.

However, his mind was constantly analyzing the intelligence at hand and outlining the subsequent action plan—

"The process of dealing with the Mystic Mark."

"It would be best to take some time to go to the surface."

"That's a poison gas that can render an entire civilization helpless!"

"I just don't know if I can handle it..."

"It should be fine, right? At most, I'll get a little diarrhea..."

"Also, I must make a trip to Future City. My Reputation Artifact, ' Endless Magic Net,' seems to have some connection to the magic web of this world. I wonder if I can Snatching the Goat; maybe it will speed up the process..."

Thump! Thump! Thump! I snapped out of my daze.

The bells had already rung.

The noisy voices stimulated Roger's periosteum.

He felt like he was surrounded by people.

Countless hands were touching him all over.

It's a pity Cindy is there.

They were destined to never get anything.

Slap! Roger calmly slapped away a Salty Pig Hand that was clearly going too far.

Only then did I focus my attention on the table in front of me.

now.

He was standing with hundreds of people in front of a row of wooden tables that were laid out in a straight line.

There was a lock in front of each person.

It's obvious.

The lock-picking event in the Triathlon Tournament is about to begin.

Roger noticed.

Behind the table.

A group of burly proctor puppets were patrolling back and forth.

Is this to prevent contestants from cheating? Roger wasn't sure either.

On the high platform at the very center.

The host of the competition has also made an appearance.

She was an older woman.

She was on stage, passionately reciting the rules.

With the blessing of amplification magic.

Her voice drowned out the enthusiasm of the onlookers.

Despite the exceptionally poor conditions the athletes faced.

But I can still barely understand the rules.

This project is actually quite simple.

Each person has a lock.

It's all about the speed at which you unlock the door!

Although the organizers divided all the participants into more than a dozen groups.

However, there is no mechanism such as preliminary rounds or semi-finals.

Therefore, each person only has one chance.

Roger noticed.

There was only a lock on the table.

There is also a timer.

According to the host, an older woman.

Once the lock is unlocked...

The timer will then stop automatically.

Staff will come to verify the results at that time.

It is worth mentioning.

Although it is a triathlon competition.

However, the individual champion can directly qualify for the final Treasure Chest Scramble.

The rest will have to rely on their overall score.

In terms of skill.

Lock picking is actually the lowest of the three skills.

Sometimes it's just a matter of luck.

We got lucky.

Then we went inside.

Therefore, everyone was very enthusiastic.

The match hasn't started yet.

Roger was already overwhelmed by the people around him.

Leaving aside the enthusiastic crowds and the ill-intentioned individuals lurking among them.

The people on either side of him looked like blacksmiths.

Before the match began.

The middle-aged man on the left had already pulled out a large hammer and a pair of large scissors.

The strong young man on the right has a more complete set of tools.

He carried a small box very professionally.

It contains a series of very professional tools such as tweezers, wire, small hammer, and chisel.

at the same time.

He observed his surroundings very cautiously.

If a sinister hand from within the crowd reaches out to places it shouldn't.

He would then brandish a chisel as a threat.

Similar chaotic phenomena are too numerous to mention.

For a fleeting moment.

Roger felt as if he had returned to the "Minotaur Tavern" in Quinan.

It seems that this applies to any dimension.

These kinds of competitions that are a celebration for the lower classes are all pretty much the same.

Whether it's an arm-wrestling competition or not.

It's still the Thieves' Tournament.

They all have a wild and unrestrained side.

certainly.

The crowd's enthusiasm allowed Roger to experience a long-lost sense of warmth and community.

"If only there weren't so many hands groping my butt..."

"I really have no money..."

Roger sighed.

In this situation, he can't use any Special Abilities.

We had no choice but to bite the bullet and wait.

Fortunately, the host was quite efficient.

Not long after.

She announced it in her signature hoarse, desperate way.

The match begins!...

"Hint: You have come into contact with a poor-quality brass lock."

"Your special ability— the Telepathic Fingers —has been passively triggered!"

"You've opened the brass lock!"

"Beep beep beep!"

The sharp timer suddenly went off.

A series of astonished gazes were cast over.

The surroundings suddenly became quiet.

Roger himself was also taken aback.

He originally wanted to put on a show.

Who knew this lock was so easy to open!

I haven't even used any techniques yet.

Just a light touch.

It just opened by itself! "That's incredibly shameless!"

Roger felt a little embarrassed.

beside.

A staff member immediately came over to verify.

He looked in surprise at the lock in Roger's hand:

"You drove it?"

Roger tried to argue:

"It opened by itself."

The staff member whistled.

Then I gave him a kind look:

"You're lucky."

"I encountered a broken lock."

Roger realized something was wrong. "Then do I need to open a new one?"

The staff member smiled and shook his head, saying, "Luck is also a part of ability."

"You passed."

"0.02 seconds... Wow! You're really fast!"

"I guarantee you're the fastest."

"You're going to be admitted to university without taking the entrance exam, lucky young man!"

As he finished speaking...

A burst of enthusiastic applause, noise, and protest erupted from the crowd!

Roger's left side.

The middle-aged blacksmith had a dark expression on his face.

Seeing Roger advance.

He stopped fiddling with the lock in his hand.

He simply swung the big Iron Hammer and smashed the copper lock to pieces!

Who knows what will happen next?

The timer started beeping too.

"Passed."

"19.8 seconds..."

The staff member glanced at the timer.

Then he silently wrote down Roger and his name.

"This works?"

The young man on the right objected:

"You call this unlocking?"

The staff member kindly reminded:

Mind your own business.

"Your lock has been stolen..."

The young man was taken aback.

He looked back.

really.

A hand, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, grabbed his lock and disappeared into the crowd! In a panic, he immediately raised his chisel and smashed it in that direction!

Ouch!

It all started with that cry of pain.

The scene descended into chaos.

Contestants focused on lock picking had to climb onto tables to unlock them.

Meanwhile, the crowds who came to cheer for their own family members began to harass the other contestants even more relentlessly.

The young man carrying the chisel had only had his lock stolen.

Roger slid out of the crowd.

I accidentally discovered a lot of brightly colored underwear...

He glanced back.

have to.

Some people have already started streaking in the players' stands.

But the game continued.

Both the organizers and the general public.

Or perhaps the contestants themselves didn't think there was anything wrong with it.

Amidst fierce curses.

The competition gradually reached its climax.

The locks were opened in various ways.

This boisterous atmosphere continued until late at night.

When everyone left, exhausted.

The host, in a hoarse voice, announced the champion of the lock-picking competition!

"A miracle of unlocking in 0.02 seconds! It belongs to us..."

"Summer..."

"You!!!!!!!!"

"Champion's reward - 100 Butterfly Coins!"

"I suggest you find somewhere to spend it tonight!"

"Otherwise, you'll quickly attract the attention of the thieves..."

"Yes, there are also 10 Bandage. If you insist on becoming the target of everyone's attacks, these Bandage will come in handy..."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

The older woman entertained herself on stage for a while.

After a while.

Only then did someone come over to remind him.

Mr. Charles has already received the award and left.

"What a boring kid!"

The woman's face immediately fell:

"When he participates in the theft competition tomorrow, I'll definitely teach him a lesson!"

It's a pity.

The host's grievances were destined to remain unfulfilled.

After winning the lock-picking category.

Roger decided to abandon both "stealing" and "escaping".

Anyway, I've already been accepted.

Why make things difficult for ordinary people?

certainly.

He admitted that he was taken aback by the 'big' scene today.

They're so brazen about unlocking doors now.

Why not just stab someone with a knife instead of stealing? Roger wasn't afraid of being stabbed.

Based on his Evasion Value.

Ordinary people simply cannot reach it.

Even if you manage to stab it.

The knife also suffered the consequences.

But in that case...

Even if the scene is chaotic.

There is also a chance of exposing oneself.

He didn't want to be targeted by an Immortal-grade alchemist before obtaining the Mystic Mark.

The next day.

Roger settled quietly in a stone house that the Pumpkin Town government used to house visiting people who came to participate in the celebration.

today.

He originally planned to sneak off for a quick trip to the surface.

But just now.

His Void Realm Invitation suddenly became hot.

Roger took it out and looked at it.

These few lines of text gradually appeared above—

"I became a full member of the Asgard Palace."

But the situation here is completely different from what I imagined.

I learned some secrets that no one else knew.

I think you'll be interested.

More importantly.

You don't even have a referrer?! No wonder you've been going down the wrong path! I think we need to talk.

Mr. Husky.

or.

Roger?

————————Beloved by: Hediwala (Gentleman Cat)