In the quiet space reeking of antiseptic inside the underground hospital room, a cold, inorganic sound rang out simultaneously in the minds of all three people.
[Announcement: Player "The Probabilist" has died.]
[A replacement has been selected.]
The apple in Ginji's hand stopped mid-air, nearly slipping down to the floor. He chewed the apple flesh in his mouth mechanically, his eyes narrowing sharply. Yume stood frozen stiff next to the hospital bed, her already exhausted face turning even paler.
The rare, newly blooming relaxed atmosphere was instantly suffocated.
Kairi didn't say a word, immediately stepping back and leaning against the cold wall. His eyes gleamed with intense focus; the sharp mind of someone accustomed to manipulating the chessboard began to string the facts together. The person who just died was undoubtedly Kyouya.
Based on his observations, Kairi concluded that Kyouya did not possess the vague future-sight ability of The Seer, but rather the ability to predict outcomes based on input information—which perfectly matched the characteristics of The Probabilist class. Kyouya was an extreme paranoiac, always wary of his surroundings, terrified of death, and constantly calculating probabilities to avoid accidents. He had just sold out Kairi's group in exchange for a chance to escape, and it was obvious that none of Nostra's assassins had chased after him at that time. So why did he die so quickly?
Furthermore, if Kyouya was actually killed by a Nostra assassin, the system would never have triggered the replacement selection mechanism. This mechanism only occurred when an Ordinary Person killed a Time Breaker with their own hands. Could Nostra have intentionally let an ordinary person do the deed to increase their allies?
No. Kairi brushed that thought aside. During the confrontation at the mall, apart from the bullet aimed straight at Ginji, Nostra hadn't inflicted any other lethal damage. They seemed more intent on casting a net to capture them alive and probe their abilities rather than eliminating them.
So, a third faction had a hand in this?
Kairi frowned. But how would an ordinary person know about the existence of Time Breakers? And how did that person know exactly that Kyouya was their target? Nostra found Kyouya by tailing our group... Is there a detail I missed?
"The files..."
Yume's voice suddenly rang out, trembling and full of panic. She clutched her forehead, her eyes wide with self-blame.
"The documents about Kyouya... I dropped them at the cafe when we were running away from the assassin. Along with the black car that appeared on the scene's camera the other day..." Yume bit her lip until it bled. "My mistake... has indirectly killed Kyouya."
Kairi's head snapped up. Everything was clear now. An ordinary person had picked up that file, used the chaos at the mall to secretly tail, kidnap, and murder Kyouya.
A few hours earlier.
The torrential rain pounded heavily against the corrugated iron roof behind the mall's alleyway. Kyouya stumbled out from the emergency exit, panting heavily. His clothes were soaked, but the corners of his lips curled into a sick smile. He continuously swiped his fingers across the invisible system interface.
West emergency exit: 90% safe.
When a loud explosion shook the entire seventh floor of the building behind him, Kyouya grew even more confident in his decision to betray Kairi's group. Idiots, he told himself. After tonight, he would never trust or meet anyone again. He would change his identity and hide thoroughly in some dark corner where no one could find him.
Suddenly, a tall, dark figure stepped out from a hidden corner. A deep black umbrella was held over Kyouya's head, blocking the freezing raindrops.
"Tired of running?" a deep, calm voice spoke up.
Kyouya, still not out of the afterglow of his triumph, blurted out in response: "Of course I'm tired!"
Before he could gather his wits to clearly see the face of the umbrella holder, an extremely powerful force struck the back of his neck. Thud. Kyouya's vision went pitch black.
The umbrella holder coldly withdrew his hand, pressed his Bluetooth earpiece, and muttered: "Get him in the car and take him back to the mansion to deal with him; there are too many eyes and ears here."
Kyouya was lifted like a sack, shoved straight into the back seat of a luxurious black sedan, and vanished into the rain.
When Kyouya groggily woke up, the musty smell of the alley had been replaced by the scent of oak and expensive wax candles. He realized his arms were tied behind his back to a high-backed chair, and his head was completely covered by a rough black cloth sack.
Rip! The cloth sack was violently yanked off.
The light from the crystal chandelier poured down, illuminating the young man sitting cross-legged on a red leather sofa in front of him. It was a teenager wearing an elegant purple suit, possessing an angular face with blond hair falling over his forehead. But the most chilling thing about him was his glowing red eyes, exuding extreme malice and arrogance. Kyouya found this face very familiar, but panic caused his brain to freeze.
His deceitful nature flaring up, Kyouya squeezed out a few tears and cried out: "Who are you? Why did you kidnap me? I'm just an innocent passerby, please let me go!"
The red-eyed teen didn't answer. He flicked his hand slightly. A black-clad subordinate standing nearby immediately threw a stack of photos and documents onto the table. They were images of Kyouya in countless disguises, his identity changes, and the times he had "luckily" escaped certain death in unavoidable accidents.
Knowing he couldn't deny it with a civilian cover, Kyouya immediately laid out a different lie: "Alright... I admit it. I am a prophet. I can foresee the future. You brought me here because you need my power, right? Spare me, and I am willing to use this ability to help you rise to the absolute top!"
The one in the purple suit tilted his head slightly, letting out a mocking scoff:
"Oh, so you are a prophet? What a surprise. If you had foreseen the future, why are you still sitting here all tied up? I thought you would have foreseen this scenario and avoided it?"
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, looking at Kyouya like one would look at a bug. "So, great prophet, try to guess if you can survive leaving here?"
In utter terror, Kyouya frantically activated the skill in his mind. Probability numbers ran across his vision. But no matter how he changed the variables, the system screen still displayed a single, glaringly red result: 0%.
The blonde teen smirked: "0% survival rate, isn't it?"
Kyouya jolted, his eyes going wide. "Did he just read my mind?"
"Stop playing the fool," the figure across from him exposed with a razor-sharp, cold voice. "You are a Time Breaker—someone capable of regressing through loops. And based on your cowardly behavior, always leaving yourself an escape route, you bear the class The Probabilist, not The Seer."
A chill ran down to the very depths of Kyouya's soul. This guy was no ordinary person, and he knew far too much about this death game. If killed by him, Kyouya wouldn't just die in this loop; his soul would be permanently erased. There would be no chance for a do-over. Absolutely not.
Through his panic, Kyouya strained his eyes to study the face across from him. Those signature glowing red eyes, his age, the sheer opulence of this mansion... A name flashed in his mind. Kyouya instantly shifted tactics, his voice turning into a menacing growl:
"If it isn't the infamous half-blood trash of the Mikage clan—Itsuki! If you let me go right now, I might reconsider helping you reclaim your position and recognition within your family!"
The air in the room suddenly froze.
Itsuki shot to his feet, his blood-red eyes blazing with pure killing intent. He delivered a devastating kick straight to Kyouya's face. The chair toppled over, sending Kyouya crashing to the floor, coughing up a mouthful of blood. His thin-framed glasses flew off, skittering across the wooden floorboards.
Itsuki stepped forward, pinning Kyouya's chest under the toe of his shoe, and gritted out every word: "Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?"
Dizzied from the blow, Kyouya instantly abandoned his pride. Whimpering, he scrambled over toward Itsuki's shoes, slamming his forehead against the floor in rapid, resounding kowtows:
"I was wrong... Young Master! I was blind! Please spare my life; I swear to be your most loyal hound from now on!"
When the distance between them closed to less than half a meter, the corners of Kyouya's mouth abruptly twisted into a triumphant smirk. Mustering all his strength, he pushed off his legs and lunged toward the glasses on the floor like a cornered beast.
If he could just bite down on the frame, he could end his own life, preventing this bastard from stealing his powers.
Thud!
A dark silhouette darted out from the shadows fast as lightning, driving a knee hard into Kyouya's back, pinning him to the floor right when his hand was mere centimeters away from the glasses.
Itsuki strolled over casually, bending down to pick up the glasses under Kyouya's shocked, despairing gaze.
"You aren't actually near-sighted, yet since last week, you've been wearing these constantly." Itsuki inspected the frames under the light. "It would make sense as a disguise, but coincidentally, my people discovered that you ordered a batch of Potassium Cyanide from the black market last week."
Saying so, Itsuki snapped the frames with his bare hands. Crack.
"Must be hidden in here."
A stream of fine white powder cascaded from the hollow frame onto the floor. His final escape route had been severed. Kyouya went completely mad, thrashing about like a fish on a chopping block as he shrieked:
"So you knew everything from the start and still put on this act?! If I make it out of here alive, I'll make you wish you were dead! No... I'll make you die a humiliating, agonizing death, just like the whore who birthed you!"
Itsuki's eyes darkened completely. His most forbidden nerve had been struck.
Itsuki waved his subordinate away, lunging down himself to lock his fingers in a vice grip around Kyouya's throat. His knuckles turned stark white from the force.
"You can insult me as trash, or humiliate me as a half-blood..." Itsuki growled ruthlessly, ignoring Kyouya's bulging eyes and frantic thrashing. "...but you are not allowed to talk about my mother."
The pressure on Kyouya's throat surged abruptly. Sickening crunches echoed as his windpipe was crushed. His oxygen supply was completely severed. Ten seconds... twenty seconds... Kyouya's pupils gradually dilated, and his arms fell limply to the floor. The cowardly calculator was dead.
The very moment Kyouya breathed his last, a cold, mechanical voice echoed within Itsuki's mind.
[Appropriation successful.]
[Synchronizing the pain and most recent death...]
Itsuki's pupils constricted sharply. He released Kyouya's corpse, staggering backward before collapsing onto the wooden floor. His hands clutched tightly at his chest, which was seizing with violent spasms.
He began to cough violently, a suffocating sensation crashing over him exactly as if an invisible hand were crushing his own larynx—the exact same death he had just bestowed upon Kyouya. And it didn't stop at physical pain; a massive wave of memories flooded his mind. Absolute panic. Spiraling isolation. The pitch-black despair of realizing he was cornered and betrayed by his own kind.
That was the price of Usurpation. A physical and spiritual punishment for any mortal daring to step into the territory of the gods.
Yet, amidst the excruciating agony convulsing his entire body, Itsuki tilted his head up toward the ceiling. His lips split open into a maniacal smile. He had won. The outcast of the Mikage clan had finally grasped the ticket to enter the most powerful game in the world.
Meanwhile, in a secluded underground warehouse.
The masked assassin grimaced as a black-market doctor bandaged his arm, which was severely blistered by high-voltage electricity. He stood at attention before a silent monitor shrouded in darkness, his tone bitter:
"Sir, the target, Kairi Ren, is far more dangerous than we anticipated. He is an utterly deranged Time Breaker, fully willing to drag his teammates' lives into the most ruthless gambles of cause-and-effect just to force the system to forge a path to survival."
Suddenly, he too received a notification from the system.
Then, a line of digital text slowly scrolled across the monitor: "Put Kairi Ren on hold for now. You just received the alert as well; Kyouya Manabi is dead."
The assassin paused. "Killed by whom, sir? It couldn't be Kairi's group; I was just hunting them down."
"An ordinary person. That individual completed the Usurpation and became the new Probabilist. This is an uncontrollable variable. Notify the entire intelligence network: Hunt down this replacement at all costs, before he fully understands and masters his newfound power."
Back at the underground private clinic.
Ginji's breathing had stabilized, though his complexion remained ashen. He tossed the apple core into the trash and leaned lazily back against his pillows, shattering the heavy silence.
"Listen here, that cowardly kid got wiped out, but his ability to see probabilities has now fallen into the hands of an ordinary person." Ginji snorted. "An ordinary guy who has the guts to murder someone to steal their position. This new guy is definitely a certified lunatic. Our side is in for a world of hurt."
Kairi didn't reply. He slowly turned around, walking over to the window that captured the faint lights of the Tokyo streets drenched in the pouring rain.
Through the blurry reflection on the rain-streaked glass, Kairi could clearly see his own cold eyes. That person, whoever he was, now held Yume's file. He knew the complete identities, habits, and Classes of Kairi's group.
The emergence of this replacement wasn't merely a new player entering the fray. He was a hunter lurking in the shadows. And very soon, he would use Kairi's group as his first guinea pigs to test the probability-calculating powers he had just seized with blood.