Just One More Round and I’ll…

A diary is, by its very nature, a record of one’s experiences. If the black book’s primary function was to “keep a diary,” then wasn’t the assassin who had just appeared also a kind of living record? And if the assassin could be recorded, what about other things? Or other people?

The more Ewan thought about it, the more his excitement grew, bordering on manic.

“In that case, doesn’t this mean I have a super hardcore, suffer-to-win, training-from-hell version of the Sharingan? All I have to do is record someone’s moves, and then I can copy them through this method, without even paying tuition! It’s the ultimate plagiarism cheat!”

“And with such a ridiculously realistic training environment and opponent, I can definitely master skills at a terrifying speed!”

“With a cheat item this powerful,” he grinned, “what do I have to fear from the protagonist?”

Ewan’s eyes grew brighter and brighter, as if he could see a glorious future where he kicked the protagonist’s ass, punched out the villains, married a rich and beautiful woman, and ascended to the very pinnacle of life, all laid out before him!

“Ah.”

Unfortunately, before he could decide whether he preferred the gentle, nurturing, older-sister type of rich beauty or the sharp-tongued, black-hearted vixen type, he saw the assassin flash before him once again.

And raise her dagger.

“Crap.”

Ewan had no time to react, only managing to spit out a single, impotent curse.

And then his head hit the floor again, with a dull, sickening thud.

…

“AGAIN!”

His consciousness snapped back to reality with a violent jolt. Before he could even properly savor the bitter aftertaste of his own death, he slammed his hand down on the page of the black book.

“I refuse to believe I can’t do this!”

…

The black space. Ewan opened his eyes.

The assassin was still standing not far from him, about ten meters away, in the exact same starting position as before. But Ewan knew that for a monster like her, that distance was practically zero.

“So, my goal now is to learn that insane movement technique?”

That skill, which allowed her to flash over ten meters in an instant, was incredibly enticing. With it, his chances of survival would skyrocket.

“You’re going to at least give me a weapon, right?” Ewan looked around at the empty, featureless space. “How am I supposed to fight her empty-handed?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt something cold and heavy appear in his hand. He looked down and saw a dagger, identical to the one the assassin held.

“I see. So it can only reproduce things that have been recorded?”

Ewan wasn’t skilled with daggers. But it didn’t matter. The assassin’s dagger techniques were also something worth learning.

He looked up, a feral smirk playing on his lips. While he might be a good-for-nothing compared to the protagonist and her party of walking cheat codes, he was still the son of a duke. The foundation laid by his privileged upbringing made him a standout among his peers. The fact that his martial artist rank was still comparable to the protagonist’s, even as she was beginning to hit her power-up stride, was proof of that. He had no chance against the real assassin, but…

“Right now, you’re just a shadow. A puppet. A record created by this book.”

Ewan held the dagger in a reverse grip and settled into a fighting stance.

“So, be a good girl and hand over all of your skills and techniques!”

…

The assassin, being a mere recording, did not respond to Ewan’s taunts. She could only do as she had in life, silently, relentlessly, launching her attack.

“Here she comes!”

Ewan’s gaze sharpened.

As before, the assassin stomped her leather-booted foot hard on the ground. Her figure vanished, but it wasn’t a true disappearance; she was just moving so fast that she had momentarily broken his line of sight. When she reappeared, she was already right in front of him, her blade a blur of silver.

“Did you really think the same trick would work on me again?”

Even a pig would learn to flinch after being slaughtered by the same move twice, let alone a human! Ewan had anticipated her move the moment she vanished. Her target would be his neck! Their difference in skill was too great to rely on reaction time, but he could predict her!

The instant she disappeared from his sight, he snapped his head to the left, dodging the fatal blow that came from the right, aimed precisely at his carotid artery. It didn’t really matter where she was aiming, since every time, her sharp dagger had simply lopped his head clean off. But no matter how sharp a dagger is, it has to hit its target to be effective! A dagger that can’t hit anything is no different from a child’s toy!

Seeing the assassin seem to pause for a fraction of a second as her dagger whistled past his neck, Ewan couldn’t help but flash a smug, triumphant grin.

“How about that? Even with a huge gap in our strength, all I have to do is use my brain, and—”

Ewan didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Because he heard the sharp, terrifying whistle of wind.

It was the sound of a blade slicing through the air.

The dagger had indeed missed. But the assassin didn’t change her move or retreat to regroup. She simply relaxed her fingers. The dagger spun in her palm like a fluttering, deadly butterfly. She clenched her fist again, but the dagger was now in a different position. From a forward thrust, it had switched to a reverse grip. And so, the sharp blade that had just missed his neck, after a single, elegant, and utterly lethal spin, came back around.

“Crap.”

Before Ewan could even get a proper curse out, the dagger had plunged unerringly into his carotid artery.

Blood sprayed.

Consciousness faded into a familiar, frustrating darkness.

…

“Damn it.”

Ewan’s eyes snapped open. The phantom feeling of his sudden, brutal death still lingered.

“Even her combat reactions are the same as the real person?”

When the real assassin had attacked Celicia, she hadn’t performed that fancy little knife flip. That meant the maid’s actions in the dark space were a completely independent, on-the-fly reaction generated by the “record” itself, adapting to his new strategy.

“The book’s reenactment is this terrifyingly, beautifully accurate?”

Realizing this, Ewan wasn’t annoyed. In fact, a flicker of manic excitement appeared in his eyes. The more realistic the record, the more useful it would be to him!

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “The flow of time is the same. Tsk, so I only lasted three seconds that time?”

“AGAIN!”

He slammed his hand down on the black book once more.

…

“Five seconds this time. Not bad. I’m getting the hang of this! AGAIN!”

…

“Ten seconds! I’m a genius! AGAIN!”

…

“Damn it, I should have blocked that sweep instead of dodging! My instincts are trash! AGAIN!”

…

“A knee strike?! She even knows how to use a damn knee strike! That’s not fair! AGAIN!”

…

“Crap, a low blow! A kick to the groin! That’s just shameless! You’re this much stronger than me and you’re still playing dirty?! AGAIN!”

…

“Young Master, it’s time for dinner.”

Anne, who had brought his meal to his room to look after him, knocked on the door.

“…”

“Strange, no response. Is he asleep?”

Anne didn’t call out again. Instead, she very naturally and quietly opened the door. Her gaze swept over the room. The desk had clearly been used; it seemed the Young Master hadn’t been sleeping all day.

After placing the food on the table, she turned to look at the bed. She could see that Ewan had wrapped himself up tightly in the blankets, forming a perfect, quivering ball.

“Sigh. He’s so old now, but he still sleeps like a child.” A fond smile touched her lips. “He must have just fallen asleep. I won’t disturb him.”

After a moment’s thought, Anne left the food on the table, cast a small warming spell on it, and then quietly left, not making a single sound.

Long after she was gone, a head suddenly popped out from the ball of blankets.

Ewan opened his bloodshot, exhausted eyes, looked at the fragrant, steaming dinner, and muttered in a voice only he could hear:

“One more time. Just one more time. After this round, I’ll get up and eat. I swear.”