5: Chapter 3: The Reincarnation Space’s “Obliteration”?
Is That All?
Part -1 5: Chapter 3: The Reincarnation Space’s “Obliteration”?
Is That All?
Part -1 [Reincarnator 13990212ssr, welcome to Reincarnation Space D0074!] An emotionless electronic voice echoed in Alex’s mind.
He opened his eyes.
Above him stretched a boundless, silver-gray dome.
Suspended at the very apex was a massive, planet-sized sphere of light, its milky-white luminescence slowly rippling across its surface like liquid glass.
Beneath his feet lay hexagonal tiles of an unknown golden material.
A faint blue luminescence seeped from the seams between them, making it feel as though he were standing upon a solidified expanse of the cosmos.
Alex scanned his surroundings.
The grand hall was so vast that its borders were lost in the distance.
Scattered throughout the expanse were shadowy figures clad in a bizarre array of outfits.
Some wore blood-stained beast pelts, while others were encased in high-tech, futuristic armor.
They kept a wary distance from one another, like a pack of lone wolves prowling a wasteland.
Freed from the oppressive divine laws of the Saint Seiya universe, Alex felt his senses sharpen to a razor’s edge.
He subtly noticed that beneath the superficial grandeur of this space lay a profound sense of decay—like a once-glorious sanctuary that had barely survived a cataclysmic war.
“Another freshie?
We’ve had a lot of Reincarnators die recently.
Is the Reincarnation Space so desperate it’s tricking kids into coming here now?” “Look at his clothes.
Doesn’t look modern to me.
Did the system start drafting from ancient eras?” The voices belonged to a man and a woman standing to Alex’s right.
He couldn’t blame them for failing to recognize a Gold Saint.
Having shed his Gold Cloth, Alex was now dressed in a simple, coarse white tunic and pants.
He looked no older than a high school graduate.
In truth, the current generation of Gold Saints were all around eighteen or nineteen years old.
Even the five legendary Bronze Saints and the Goddess Athena were mere adolescents of thirteen or fourteen.
Being a Saint was a deadly, fleeting profession.
Constantly burning their Cosmo and engaging in deathmatches with gods meant that, barring miracles, most never lived to see their thirtieth birthdays.
In the previous Holy War, only Dohko and Shion had survived.
This current generation was destined for an even bleaker fate—a near-total wipeout of the Gold Saints.
Aside from a select few blessed with divine ichor, ninety-nine percent of them were fated to die young.
Following the voices, Alex’s gaze drifted past the sparse crowd to a circular bar counter not far away.
The counter was forged from dark metal, its surface etched with intricate, glowing energy circuits.
Several bizarrely shaped machines were embedded into it, hissing as they vented white steam.
A heavily bearded man in a stained, dark-red combat suit stood there, bleeding profusely from a nasty gash on his forearm.
He shoved his injured arm into one of the machines and gritted his teeth.
“Damn it.
These freakin’ zombies are mutating to be stronger every run!” “Reincarnation space!
Deduct 10 Credit Points from my personal account to heal this wound!” A flash of green light enveloped him.
The man’s arm was instantly restored to perfect condition, and even his tattered, filthy clothes were magically cleaned and repaired.
Leaning against the counter next to him was a mature woman with a voluptuous figure.
She wore a frayed medieval cloak, the hood pulled low so that only her pale chin was visible.
The fabric stretched taut over her generous curves, swaying enticingly with her every movement and drawing more than a few covert glances from the hall.
Moving with languid grace, she drew a dagger.
Its blade glinted with a cold, blue menace under the light of the giant sphere.
With a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed the blade toward Alex.
Her voice was sultry and laced with lazy amusement.
“Newbie, you haven’t done your first tutorial run yet, have you?
This is an Excellent-tier dagger.
It’ll keep you alive a lot longer out there.
Inflicts both bleeding and poison on hit.
A hundred Credit Points and it’s yours.
Think of it as a half-sale, half-charity.” Alex reacted with lightning reflexes, snatching the dagger out of the air.
The hilt was wrapped in a gripping black cloth.
Instantly, a line of pale blue, holographic text materialized in his vision: [Fairbairn Dagger: Attack Power 12-25.
Passive: Inflicts continuous Bleed and Poison effects on hit.
Quality: Excellent.
Tradeable…] Before he could read further, a grating voice—like grinding metal—interrupted from the shadows.
“You can buy that exact dagger directly from the Reincarnation Space for fifty points.
On the black market, it goes for about thirty.
Don’t let her hustle you, rookie.” Alex glanced over.
Sitting in the dimmer recesses of the bar was a half-man, half-machine cyborg.
Silver metallic plating covered half of his face, and a single, crimson mechanical eye whirred and glowed in the dark.
Tucked into his waist belt was a dagger identical to the one in Alex’s hand.
Exposed, the woman didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed.
Instead, she giggled, shooting Alex a flirtatious wink that burned with dangerous allure from beneath her hood.
“Well, what if I said a hundred points buys the dagger…
and a night with me?” Alex absentmindedly twirled the dagger between his fingers before tossing it back to her in a clean, perfect arc.
A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained utterly devoid of warmth.
Rule number one of surviving a place like this: Never trust anyone.
“No thanks,” Alex replied flatly.
“I don’t have any Credit Points.” The woman caught the blade with a scoff, her tone turning teasing.
“Come on, fresh meat.
Let me teach you some basic common sense.
Every new Reincarnator gets a starting stipend of exactly 100 Credit Points when they arrive.
Do I look like an idiot to you?” Alex turned his attention toward the colossal sphere of light hanging overhead.
His gaze was deep and unreadable.
“Oh?” he murmured softly.
“Is that so?”