The 100th Regression of the Max-Level Player - RMLP Chapter 194: Withdrawal (Part 1)
The method Dark Soul suggested to lure out the Black Scythe was simple.
Commit a crime on purpose to make the CPF dispatch and capture the squad members to lure them in.
Using the squad members as bait would summon the captain, Black Scythe.
“We will split into three teams of four: Bricks’s team, First Warrior’s team, and our team. It’s more efficient than moving together.”
The Spaniard regretted those words an hour after the operation started.
Contact with Bricks’s team was lost.
“Spaniard, still no contact?”
“No. They’re not answering their phones; something must have happened.”
Just 20 minutes ago, First Warrior’s team had contacted them.
Black Scythe was heading their way, so they were told to gather.
The Spaniard, who said he would contact Bricks’s team himself, soon found himself in a difficult situation.
He tried calling several times, but there was still no response.
“Bricks’s team isn’t answering?”
“No.”
“Maybe they’re too busy dealing with hostages to answer?”
“Even so, it’s strange that they’re not answering after dozens of calls….”
“Then try contacting other members too.”
“I already did, but I’ll try again just in case.”
At Yang Chiwon’s words, the Spaniard dialed again and shook his head.
Still no answer.
“All four of them are unreachable. Something is definitely wrong with Bricks’s team.”
“Shit, we need to regroup before Black Scythe arrives. Why aren’t they answering the phone?”
“I don’t know. Let’s head to First Warrior’s team.”
The four of them navigated through the alleys once again.
Even if they had to leave Bricks’s team behind, they needed to quickly head to where Black Scythe was being lured.
But when they arrived, there was nothing to be seen.
“Is this the right place?”
“The address is correct….”
“Try calling.”
The Spaniard called First Warrior, but there was no response.
“No answer.”
“Why the hell do they even carry phones if they’re not going to answer?”
Yang Chiwon was irritated, but they didn’t know.
In this very alley, the First Warrior team had already been killed.
Bricks’s team had also been killed by Ju Seong-tak.
But someone had predicted the truth.
“Could it be that he’s already been here?”
“What are you saying, John?”
Yang Chiwon asked, and John Delgado responded with an obvious expression.
“Black Scythe. I think he came and wiped out the team first.”
“What?”
“Black Scythe?”
It was a plausible story, but Yang Chiwon scoffed.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?”
“Black Scythe killed the entire First Warrior team? Then where are the bodies? Why can’t we see any traces?”
“He probably erased the traces.”
“Even so, can there really be no traces at all? Look around. There’s no sign of a fight, no broken walls, nothing.”
“It wasn’t a fight.”
“Then?”
“It was a one-sided massacre.”
John’s expression was serious.
There wasn’t a hint of a joke, making it seem like he genuinely believed it.
“Is Black Scythe that strong?”
“He is. It would take all twelve apostles to have a chance against him.”
“Damn….”
Yang Chiwon looked incredulous but couldn’t refute.
Only the necromancer had experienced Black Scythe’s strength firsthand.
The Spaniard, listening in, looked grave as he realized the gravity of the situation.
“If what John says is true, then the other teams are in danger too.”
“Is Bricks’s team not answering because they’ve already been taken out?”
“Is it possible? Are you saying Black Scythe defeated us all in such a short time?”
“He’s capable of it. In the worst case, we should assume we’re the only survivors.”
“Unbelievable.”
“…It’s my fault. We should have stayed together instead of splitting up.”
Worry crept onto the apostles’ faces.
At that moment.
“Huh?”
Dark Soul, who had been habitually using a search skill, warned them about an approaching red dot.
“Someone’s coming from that direction.”
The sound of running could be heard from the alley he pointed to, and soon, a person appeared.
It was the Indian martial artist, Swingman.
“Phew, everyone’s here?”
He looked extremely relieved to see them, panting heavily as if he had just run a marathon.
“Swingman? What happened? Where are the other apostles?”
At the Spaniard’s question, Swingman’s expression turned dark.
“Well… I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Shamefully, I was too busy escaping from him to think about my comrades.”
“Who do you mean by him….”
“Black Scythe.”
At that name, the other apostles immediately felt it.
The bad story they discussed moments ago had come true.