Chapter 191 – The Twelve Apostles
The Despair Church wasn’t an official religion.
Since it was a cult, it wasn’t well-known even in the United States.
So it was only natural that John Delgado felt suspicious.
“Just how did you find me?”
When John spoke to Spaniard, his tone was noticeably more polite.
After hearing that the man was the founder of Messiah, he’d realized he needed to mind his manner of speaking.
There was also the thought that they were comrades in the same boat—people who intended to beat Black Scythe to death.
“While I was asking around about America’s Zone Rank 1, I ran into someone who knew your real face, John. They said they were a believer of the Despair Church. Thanks to that, I was able to track your location.”
“To dare sell my face without permission. Which rat bastard was it….”
“They said their nickname was Berber.”
“Berber?”
John’s mouth fell open as if he couldn’t believe it.
Because that bastard was the most loyal subordinate John had trusted more than anyone.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He didn’t betray you—he told me your location because he knew it was a proposal you’d like, John.”
“Tch, that bastard. Still, I’ll have to give him a proper scolding later.”
“Ah, we’re here.”
John, who’d been grumbling, got out of the car with Spaniard at the words we’re here.
The place they’d arrived at was a sparsely visited forest.
“Let’s go. We have to go in quite a bit.”
After walking through the forest for about thirty minutes, a small cabin came into view.
“You’re telling me we’re having the meeting in there?”
“Yes.”
“There are plenty of cafés and other places—why of all….”
“It’s a gathering of top-tier powerhouses. Wouldn’t it be better if it drew less attention? If anything happens, you never know—people might even fight each other over a difference of opinion.”
“Well, if everyone starts using Skills and crossing blades, it would get a bit noisy.”
Since it was their first meeting and no one knew what might happen, they couldn’t help being especially cautious.
“So right now, inside there, the strong ones from each country are gathered?”
“Yes. Three days ago, with you as the last, the recruitment of the Twelve Apostles was completed. However, not everyone was able to attend. There are countries that can’t easily make it to the U.S. for various reasons.”
As Spaniard said that, he opened the cabin door.
Creeeak—
In front of the wooden table set up inside, six people sat with bored expressions.
Hair color, race—everything was different. They were the top players from their respective countries.
“How long do you plan on making us wait, Spaniard? Are you hoping we die of boredom?”
“Haha, I apologize for making you wait so long.”
“Is that man the last apostle?”
“Yes. Everyone, say hello. This is John Delgado, America’s Zone Rank 1 and the cult leader of the Despair Church, the Necromancer.”
At Spaniard’s introduction, everyone’s gaze gathered on John.
Rattle—
The first to stand was a hulking man who looked like he could be over two meters tall.
“I’ve heard plenty about you. It’s a pleasure. I’m FirstWarrior.”
John clasped the offered hand and furrowed his brow.
His hand is fucking huge, he thought.
“From your pronunciation, I’m guessing you’re British?”
“That’s right. I’m also a Sword Master who placed 5th in this Round.”
“5th. Impressive. You must’ve earned a lot of points—good for you, huh?”
“Even so, compared to Black Scythe, it’s a drop in the bucket.”
When greetings were done, the next person stood and held out a hand.
“India’s representative, SwingMan. A level 49 Martial Artist.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“I heard you have the ability to raise corpses.”
“Yes.”
“If you ever need corpses, come to our country. We’ve got corpses rotting everywhere.”
With a bitter smile, John shook the next person’s hand.
It was an East Asian man who looked like a total game addict.
“I’m DarkSoul. Nationality: Japan. I’m a Sniper.”
“I didn’t even know there was a job called Sniper.”
“I’ve never seen a Necromancer before, either.”
“Looks like you learned some English somewhere?”
“I didn’t learn it properly—taught myself watching American TV shows. Still, I can’t do long conversations.”
The UK, India, Japan, Brazil, Mexico… everyone’s nationality was different.
That was why they could only manage simple English between them; a long conversation was impossible.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, John.”
Most of them shook John’s hand, but one person remained still.
‘What the hell is with that bastard?’
It was an East Asian man sitting there with his arms folded, an annoyed look on his face, as if he had no intention of greeting anyone.
“Mr. Yang Chwi-wen. We’ll be seeing each other going forward—why don’t you exchange greetings?”
“Why would I?”
At the bold Chinese man’s attitude, Spaniard made an awkward expression.
“Who is that?”
“He’s Mr. Yang Chwi-wen, who placed 2nd in Ranking during the 11th Round. He’s a Chinese ranker, and he’s in the number-one position in the hierarchy of the Black Society.”
‘Black Society?’
There was no way John didn’t know about organizations infamous worldwide, like the mafia or the yakuza.
It wasn’t that—what was absurd was that a piece of trash who did nothing but crime was acting all high and mighty.
“What are you looking at, big-nosed bastard?”
“What did you just say? If you’ve got something to say, say it in English.”
Even though he could speak English, the way he muttered in Chinese pissed John off.
“John. Please greet the rest of the apostles as well. They couldn’t attend in person, but they’ve connected via video chat.”
On the laptop on the table, four faces were visible.
Only after John exchanged greetings did Spaniard wrap things up.
“Alright, that seems like introductions are done, so please take a seat. I think it’s time we have a proper discussion.”
Swallowing his irritation, John sat down.
Eight powerhouses of different nationalities gathered around one table.
“Now that someone new has arrived, I’ll introduce myself as well. I’m Spaniard, a Spanish level 50 Gladiator. As you know, I’m the founder of Messiah, and I’m sure you’ve all heard why it was founded.”
“To oppose Black Scythe.”
At John’s words, Spaniard nodded.
“That’s right. We’ve gathered here to stop Black Scythe, the current Rank 1. We can no longer stand by and watch him run away with everything. One person can’t stop him, but if many join forces, we can.”
“How do you plan to stop him?”
“Isn’t that why we gathered here—to discuss it?”
“This isn’t something to think about so vaguely. You saw it again this time, didn’t you? He walked away with a full twenty million points.”
“Exactly. He definitely leveled up like crazy with EXP packs, and he’s probably fully armed with items from the Special Shop.”
“He might’ve even reached max level.”
Various comments came out, but the conclusion was the same: they had to stop Black Scythe.
“If anyone has a good idea for how to stop Black Scythe, please speak freely—don’t hold back.”
At Spaniard’s words, someone slowly raised a hand.
It was China’s Yang Chwi-wen.
“Why are you even agonizing over this? We should go to Korea and kill Black Scythe.”
“Kill him? Isn’t that a bit hasty?”
“Hasty, my ass. So what, we just sit here and watch? Watch that bastard monopolize the rewards all by himself?”
Yang Chwi-wen’s eyes gleamed with killing intent.
“We have to kill him. There’s no other way. If we hesitate, we’ll lose everything.”
“I agree.”
John quietly voiced his agreement.
He didn’t like the Chinese guy, but he did agree with the idea of killing without mercy.
“It does seem like Black Scythe is monopolizing the rewards.”
“By rights, power needs to be balanced evenly so that everyone can survive together, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly. If Black Scythe keeps taking everything alone like that, it destroys the balance. It’s the same as killing other players.”
“I agree.”
“I also support killing him.”
Most of them raised their hands in favor of assassinating Black Scythe.
There was no need for a vote, but for form’s sake, Spaniard asked.
“Then shall we take a simple vote? Anyone opposed to killing Black Scythe? Please raise your hand.”
“…….”
“…….”
As expected, no one raised a hand.
“Then, with unanimity in favor of killing Black Scythe, we’ll discuss the assassination method. Please speak frankly about how it would be best to find him and kill him.”
As if he’d been waiting, the Japanese player, DarkSoul, raised a hand.
“My job is Sniper. If we can secure his position, I can shoot his head off even from a distance of 2 km. That’s how I placed 3rd in the 11th Round.”
“Ho. That truly is a job optimized for assassination.”
“Hmph. Even so, you’re still beneath me.”
Yang Chwi-wen snorted in Chinese, then said in English.
“I’m a Hunter. In the real world or other worlds, I’m a pro at killing humans. Two days is enough to track him down and kill him.”
“If you’re that amazing, then why did you join Messiah? You could’ve just dealt with Black Scythe alone.”
When SwingMan complained, Yang Chwi-wen’s brow crumpled like paper.
“That weak-looking bastard should just eat curry—why the hell did he come here?”
“Does anyone understand Chinese? That sounded like an insult—please translate what he’s saying.”
“Enough.”
The one who quieted the room was none other than John.
“Is there anyone here who has met Black Scythe in person?”
When everyone fell silent, John opened his mouth with a serious face.
“I have. Just three days ago, in the other world, he severed my limbs.”
“…….”
“Do you know what I felt then? Helplessness. I couldn’t even gauge the gap in power between us. The thirty undead I summoned were erased before they could swing a blade even once.”
As if the memory of that moment resurfaced, John’s eyes trembled.
What he felt wasn’t fear.
It was rage.
“He’s definitely a strong enemy. But we can’t just keep taking this. Even if I have to mobilize every last force of the Despair Church, I’ll beat that son of a bitch to death. They say even a tiger does its utmost when hunting a rabbit. So don’t give me bullshit about whether I step up or not. Only if we all charge in together will we have even a chance.”
“But it’s an ambush….”
“No matter how much of an ambush it is, he won’t go down easily. He didn’t reach level 90 by accident. He might even already be level 99. We must never let our guard down.”
John’s words were convincing.
Because they were the most realistic thing anyone had said so far, they were more than enough to move the hearts of the Twelve Apostles.
“John is right. We’re here to combine our strength, not to show off our individual abilities, aren’t we? It seems correct to cooperate together.”
When the founder, Spaniard, said that, the rest could only nod and agree.
“Then we’ll all go to Korea and carry it out. Let’s form a detailed plan—starting with how we’ll find Black Scythe.”
“I have an idea for that.”
At DarkSoul’s words, everyone listened closely.
As if they thought it was a pretty solid plan, their expressions brightened.
“That would be best.”
“Good.”
“Let’s move to execute immediately.”
“If we move too openly, it could cause problems, so we should start by finding a stowaway ship to get to Korea.”
“Let’s do that.”
A wicked smile spread across the Twelve Apostles’ lips.
With Ma Kyung-rok arranging it, Ryu Min went and met Christine.
There wasn’t much to what they talked about.
‘It was all exactly as Jeffrey told me.’
When she said she wanted to know Black Scythe’s location, he subtly shook his head and gave the answer he’d prepared.
That he didn’t know at all.
That it was true he’d seen him in the future, but he didn’t know his identity in reality or even his location.
—It’s clear he doesn’t want to reveal who he is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be wearing a mask. If you try to find him, he’ll probably dislike it even more.
—That makes sense, doesn’t it?
He still remembered being surprised that she agreed so readily.
‘Christine already knew. She only put on a show of trying to find Black Scythe because of her father.’
However, her desire to learn about the Necromancer was real.
There had been far too many comrades sacrificed to bury her feelings of revenge like this.
Of course, Ryu Min didn’t tell her even a shred of information.
Except for the prophecy about the 12th Round.
‘Revenge is a luxury for Christine. I can’t let her fall into danger again.’
It had already been a week since he returned.
The Necromancer Christine was looking for had likely already joined Messiah.
‘I know exactly what kind of group Messiah is—I’ve been through it.’
An international cooperative organization created to oppose him, Black Scythe.
That organization, made up of the strongest from each country under the name “the Twelve Apostles,” would soon enter Korea to assassinate him.
‘Is it about a week until they start moving?’
He didn’t know the exact time frame.
Each time the run changed, the assassination timing shifted a little.
Still, the way they approached was always the same.
‘This time, too, they’ll definitely target the CPF squad members.’
Their scheme was to contact a squad member and use them to lure out Black Scythe, the squad leader.
In the process, squad members ended up being sacrificed, but….
‘No way I’m letting it happen again.’
Since variables could arise, he needed to prepare early.
Prepare a welcome for foreign guests.