"Damn it, that bastard—" In a corner of Manifest Street, a flash of magical light flared, and a thoroughly bedraggled Nab Pudding appeared out of thin air.
Anyone hit would be randomly teleported elsewhere to start again after ten seconds. As long as the thirty-minute Hidden competition had not ended, they could keep starting over, and Nab Pudding had already lost count of how many times he had been taken out in a single hit.
Under his guild master's orders, he had to probe the strength of Achill, the True God of Death, and that was exactly what he had been doing! From the start of the match until now, his eyes had never strayed from Achill alone! Unless he happened to run into another contestant, he paid them no attention whatsoever.
Originally, he had thought it would be ideal if he could teach the renowned True God of Death a harsh lesson during Hidden—and avenge Obra in the process.
Unfortunately, his hopes were beautiful, but reality was always cruel! Since the match began, he had tried countless underhanded tricks to deceive Achill and steal points from him, but not one had succeeded! Every time, Achill saw through him instantly and took him out in a single hit—
It felt as though Achill could see only people's real bodies! As for the countless duplicate Thought Bodies, it was as though they had never existed in his eyes—
He was not the only one who felt that way. The other contestants and everyone watching outside felt exactly the same! All of them had that impression!
"Hey! Am I imagining things? That True God of Death—" Watching the figure stroll slowly across the viewing screen, Chapati could no longer hide his shock and astonishment. He shouted, "How on earth does he tell