Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground novel Chapter 1606

Chapter 1606: Pissed

’A weird pair.’

’Very. That girl’s got a few screws loose.’

Atticus paused at the arbiter’s words.

"...Did you just agree with me?"

As though only then realizing what she’d said, she sharply cleared her throat.

"...I said nothing."

"You literally did."

"Don’t push your luck."

Atticus chuckled as her presence retreated from his mind, before forcing himself to refocus. Humor aside, the interaction was still on his mind. A girl with the innate ability to fuse things together, and another who carried a sword will.

’They’re both true willers.’

From the brother’s words, there was no doubt they had come for the resource wars as well. More than anything else, the brief encounter confirmed the sheer scale of what was about to unfold.

’I have to be ready for anything.’

With that resolve settling in his mind, Atticus let his gaze drift around the bar. Laughter and loud conversation still filled the space, but his attention fixed on a few very specific points.

"Haha... sorry boys. Looks like old Pounce won again."

Whisker sat at a large table surrounded by several mean eyed figures, all of them staring at him with hostility as he calmly gathered every life stone on the table into his hands.

"Everyone! Drinks on me tonight!"

"Whoa!"

As the cheers echoed across the bar, Atticus turned away.

"Ark—!"

At another table, Ozerra wore a wide grin as she locked arms with a hefty man in an arm wrestling match.

Veins bulged across the man’s forearm as he struggled to keep his hand steady, but Ozerra only laughed, steadily increasing the pressure until she slammed his arm into the table with a loud bang. Cheers and shouts echoed from the crowd around them.

Elsewhere, Ozeroth was engaged in a fight with several thugs, for reasons Atticus didn’t even bother questioning.

He sighed, shaking his head faintly. These were the ones he’d entrusted with gathering information...

Eventually, he returned upstairs to his room, fully intent on training until the competition began.

...

That night, Atticus kept the brother’s warning in mind, and surprisingly, it manifested in the form of multiple assassins.

The others had long since returned and fallen asleep, leaving Atticus as the only one awake.

He dealt with them quietly, efficiently, without even disturbing the rest. From what he uncovered afterward, they were assassins sent to thin the number of participants before the competition officially began.

It was supposedly against the rules to kill other contestants, which only made the need for the secrecy all the more apparent.

The next day, after wasting several minutes waking the others, they left the inn together and headed toward the location where the resource war was to take place.

The crowd moving in that direction was so dense that even without knowing the destination, it would have been impossible to miss.

Eventually, they arrived at a grand, circular structure standing at the very center of the city.

Ignoring the countless eyes drawn toward him as they moved along the inward pathway, Atticus listened as Whisker continued talking at his side.

"I’m telling you, my star actor, yesterday was brutal. Those gods? Absolute nightmare. I tried everything, couldn’t get a thing out of them."

"Yeah... same here, bond."

"Ozerra, on the other hand, had a great time."

The man frowned, studying Ozeroth with deeply furrowed brows.

"Who’s this clown? Get out of my way. I’m talking to my wife-to-be." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"...!"

Wife? A girl who wasn’t even up to five feet tall? He glanced toward Ozerra and saw her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she glared at the man.

’So it’s true?’

Ozeroth didn’t spare her reaction a glance. Instead, the golden glow surrounding his body steadily intensified, the air around them growing heavier.

"Get the fuck away from her."

"You—!"

The man’s chubby face flushed a deep red as fury twisted his expression, but before he could act, a hand held his shoulder and stopped him.

"Prince Adovant. That’s enough."

A golden man clad fully in a butler’s uniform stepped between them. His build was compact, two blades resting calmly at his waist. His golden hair was swept neatly back, and a well groomed goatee framed his face.

’He’s strong.’

Atticus straightened instinctively, sensing the weight in the air around the man. His presence was dense and restrained, and his body held in a constant state of tension, as though he could strike at any moment without warning.

Instead, the man bowed lightly.

"My apologies for the prince’s behavior."

"But—"

"Enough."