Drop Your Weapon!

They arrived at the door to the room.

Grant remained focused and cautious as he pushed the final door open, much like an FBI agent on a mission. The moment he shoved it, he deliberately performed a side roll to the right to evade any potential ambush.

For various reasons, Benjamin also carefully hung back.

However, the door swung open, and nothing happened.

Puzzled, Benjamin took a few cautious steps forward and peered inside. He saw Dick Fool standing with a large man. The moment Benjamin looked at them, they both looked back at him.

They looked as if they had been waiting for a long time.

...There was killing intent.

Benjamin felt even more troubled, a sudden urge to turn around and leave.

He knew full well that after the farce at the Fool residence, Dick's hatred for him had not diminished in the slightest. Knowing Dick as he did, he would stop at nothing to achieve his revenge.

Looking at the current situation, did it even need to be said?

Dick hadn't come to participate in some simulated war game at all; he had come specifically for Benjamin!

Tricky.

Just as Benjamin and Dick's eyes met, the atmosphere grew tense, like the heavy air before a storm. Suddenly, a loud shout shattered the restless silence like a brick through a window.

"Holy Light Bomb!"

Grant suddenly flashed into the room, repeating his old trick, throwing two small balls from his hands that accurately struck the chests of Dick and the large man.

"..."

The large man glanced at the balls on the floor, then at Dick beside him, hesitating for a moment, but he didn't put on any exaggerated display of sacrifice. As for Dick, he didn't even flinch, his eyes locked onto Benjamin like a proctor watching a student during an exam.

Grant was stunned.

"Hey, you're cheating!" he berated the pair.

"Oh."

Dick used his Indifferent.JPG expression.

Grant felt as if he had been dealt a heavy blow; speechless, he retreated in defeat.

Seeing this, Benjamin sighed in his heart.

It seemed he would have to handle this himself.

He turned to Grant and said with feigned ease, "It can't be helped. It seems I'm the only one who can deal with these two enemies." With that, he looked back at Dick and took a few steps forward.

These two steps gave him a sense of swelling arrogance, like he was thinking, Step aside! It's time for me to show off.

"What exactly do you want?" he asked Dick.

At the same time, while posturing, he hurriedly asked the system for information in his mind: "What's the deal with that big guy next to Dick?"

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. Ever since he successfully escaped from Michelle, he had treated that ancient wisdom as his life motto—he almost wanted to get it tattooed on his arm.

The system replied: "That's his younger brother, Conte Fool. He was born with extraordinary talent and immense natural strength, but unfortunately, he suffered a severe illness at the age of three that burned out his brain. He's a bit slow, but he listens to his family very well. Because he's so big and strong, most people don't dare to provoke him to his face."

Benjamin's heart sank; a sense of foreboding rose to the heavens.

He wasn't afraid of Dick. This wasn't the Riser Family, and there were no elders here to back him up. With Dick's scrawny arms and legs, what could he really do even if a conflict broke out?

But if he had a powerful thug on his side, things became very troublesome.

Let's see what he actually intends to do.

"What do I want? Don't you know?" In this eerie atmosphere, Dick's speech began to sound like a villain from a movie. "I am going to return the humiliation you caused me, in full!"

As he spoke, he pulled a chamber pot out of nowhere, as if performing a magic trick.

"..."

So, ever since the "Chamber Pot Incident," he had been carrying this thing around with him?

He really was obsessed with that chamber pot.

Even Benjamin began to feel a shred of admiration for such persistent dedication to revenge.

"This guy is something else." Even the system began to marvel. "You need to be careful. This person is not simple. According to my analysis, he must possess a portable space; he might even be a transmigrator too."

"...Why?"

The system shouted as if looking at an idiot: "Do you even have to ask! If he didn't have a portable space, where did he pull the chamber pot from?"

"...Maybe."

The tense atmosphere vanished the moment the chamber pot appeared, leaving only Dick struggling to keep a straight face, trying to look like a formidable villain. Benjamin found it a bit funny, yet helpless. He felt that this version of Dick was quite pathetic, but he had no intention of expressing that pity through his actions.

"Alright, since he doesn't want to play, today's battle is over. Grant, let's go home." He turned his head and said to Grant.

Grant was stunned.

Benjamin had to continue, "What's the point of staying here? They aren't playing with you anymore. Let's go home."

Grant snapped out of it. Though he looked reluctant, he nodded and said, "Fine, let's go back." Before leaving, he glared at Dick, seemingly hating him for ruining his perfect gaming experience.

Benjamin didn't want to deal with any of this and turned to leave.

He just wanted to get out of there before the smell of the chamber pot drifted over.

"Stop! Don't you dare leave!" Dick panicked. He couldn't miss such a golden opportunity, so he immediately shouted, "Conte, stop them! Don't let them leave this place!"

The big, slow man standing next to him stared blankly at Dick but didn't move. Dick roared in fury a few more times, pointing his finger at Benjamin. Only then did Conte react, striding toward Benjamin.

Benjamin was startled by Conte's speed.

Holy crap, how is this big guy moving so fast?

Just as he hesitated over whether to turn and run, Grant suddenly jumped out. "Leave this guy to me!" he shouted, turning to charge at Conte. As Conte reached out to grab him, Grant leaped, and before anyone could see his movement, he executed a scissor kick, locking his legs firmly around Conte's neck in a flash.

Conte lost his balance, and the two crashed to the ground, locked in a stalemate. Conte struggled to break free while Grant squeezed tighter; for a moment, neither could move.

Benjamin was dumbfounded. He didn't know whether to admire Grant's agile skills or mock his reckless, chuunibyou behavior.

Dick was also stunned, seemingly unable to believe that Grant could subdue Conte with raw strength alone. However, the power of hatred was clearly strong, and he quickly recovered from his surprise, turning his gaze back to Benjamin.

Benjamin looked at Dick, cursing his luck internally.

Grant was already tangled up with Conte, and he had been forced to stay—he couldn't just leave Grant behind, could he?

Trouble.

He watched as Dick slowly raised the hand holding the chamber pot, forming a pose reminiscent of someone holding a high-explosive charge.

"Holy crap!"

Benjamin's hair stood on end.

He crouched down, preparing to dodge.

"Don't you dare dodge!" Dick, seeing this, panicked and shouted, "If you dare to dodge, I'll... I'll smash them with this!"

As he spoke, he aimed the chamber pot at the brawling Grant and Conte.

Grant was stunned when he heard that, momentarily forgetting to keep squeezing, and Conte flipped him off. However, Conte didn't seem to understand what Dick had just said, or perhaps he didn't care. After breaking free, he charged straight at Benjamin, seemingly intent on finishing his previous order.

Dick was overjoyed at the sight: "Quick, Conte, grab that bastard!"

Benjamin watched the giant charging toward him, with no time to dodge.

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!"

The situation spiraled out of control. He had no time to think; in the blink of an eye, Conte was right in front of him, his massive hands less than ten centimeters away, about to grab him.

Benjamin could only instinctively lift his leg and kick!

Time seemed to have been paused; for a few short seconds, the entire corridor was unnervingly quiet.

"So that's it. He walks fast because he's used to taking wide strides." Suddenly, the system popped up in his mind, sounding thoughtful.

Wide... strides?

Benjamin was still immersed in his reflexive reaction.

Slowly, he began to feel strange. Conte's hands were right in front of his eyes, about to touch him, but they hadn't moved an inch further. How strange, why was that?

Curious, Benjamin looked down.

He saw his left leg slightly raised, positioned right between Conte's legs, like a swing that had arched gracefully. His instep felt slightly numb, as if he had just kicked something with force.

"Ma... Mama..."

The frozen Conte suddenly began to sob, large teardrops rolling down his tightly strained cheeks.

Benjamin was also confused. He sheepishly retracted his leg and stepped back a few paces, looking at the man who was on the verge of a breakdown, feeling a sense of guilt he had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He said it sincerely; he felt this was the most genuine apology he had ever given in his life.

Fortunately, perhaps because Benjamin's apology was sincere enough, Conte didn't wail. He continued to sob, his slightly trembling hands slowly covering the spot he had been kicked.

He began to walk toward the exit of the castle, still crying. His steps were slow, but for some reason, no one reacted, and no one tried to stop him.

Before he shuffled out of the castle, no one spoke, and no one moved. The only sounds echoing in the corridor were his sobs and the low, gruff cries of "Mama."

He was gone.

Only after Conte had left did Dick finally react, shouting toward the end of the corridor: "Conte, get back here!" However, there was no response—and it seemed there never would be again.

Benjamin looked at him, and Grant, having recovered from his shock, followed suit.

Dick instantly realized things had gone wrong.

"What... what are you doing? Benjamin, don't get cocky! I will never let you off!"

As he spoke, he raised the chamber pot in his hand once more.

Seeing this, Benjamin exchanged a glance with Grant. The two crouched low and began to approach Dick from two different directions.

"Don't do anything rash. Drop the weapon in your hand; you are surrounded. I repeat, drop the weapon in your hand; you are surrounded. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say will..."

Benjamin's words were cut short by a sudden turn of events.

"Don't move! If you come any closer... if you come any closer, I'll kill you!"

In his agitated state, Dick suddenly pulled a gun from his sleeve. He held the chamber pot in one hand and the gun in the other, the muzzle trembling as he aimed it at Benjamin's forehead.

Thanks to zealour for the tip, and to everyone who voted with recommendation tickets. Gratitude, bowing.

Note: Conte Fool, written in English as Cunt Fool; you can look up the meaning yourselves.