TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 103

Black hair, a tear mole, fingerless gloves, a broken sword, and that familiar outfit…

Seeing a character he had adored for so long suddenly appear right before him, Albin was completely stunned.

As he hurriedly treated Blake’s injuries, his thoughts descended into chaos.

What is going on?

Why is a fictional character standing right in front of me?

Could this be the real person the comic was based on?

Did I somehow transmigrate into another world?

Just as those thoughts crossed his mind, the communication bracelet on his wrist lit up.

It was a message from his father.

His father said he would be visiting Thorn City tomorrow.

Albin’s family didn’t know that he had talked Jade into accompanying him on this journey. They all believed he was still in Thorn City.

Oh no. I need to get back as soon as possible.

Fortunately, he hadn’t traveled too far from Thorn City and could return before his father arrived.

But the fact that he could still receive messages from his father meant he probably hadn’t transmigrated after all.

Could it be that I’ve been living inside the world of the comic this whole time?

No, no.

That comic’s plot is way too ridiculous. None of it lines up.

Right now, saving a life was what mattered most.

Looking at Blake’s battered condition, Albin felt a painful ache in his chest.

Although Blake was seriously injured after nearly every boss fight in the comic, the wounds before him now were even worse than any of those.

Albin surveyed the surrounding area.

The landscape was in ruins.

Cracks covered the ground. Fragments of shattered rock were scattered everywhere. Countless scorch marks suggested the area had been ravaged by fire over and over again. The smell of burnt earth lingered in the air.

A battle had taken place here not long ago.

Blake had clearly been injured during it.

But Albin had no idea who had hurt him.

In the comic, the Wrath Arc had just ended.

Blake and his companions had left the Tulip Kingdom, recovered from their injuries, consolidated the experience they gained fighting Sutanlai, and spent several chapters enjoying peaceful daily life while continuing to gather information about the Apostles of White.

Counting the days, the next chapter wouldn’t be released until tomorrow.

It might even be another slice-of-life chapter.

Looking for clues in the comic was probably hopeless.

As streams of magic continuously flowed into Blake’s body, Albin’s expression grew serious.

Damn it. Which villain did this to him?

A light drizzle began to fall from the sky.

Albin quickly moved Blake into a nearby cave.

Blake still hadn’t awakened.

After cleaning his wounds and wiping away the blood, Albin adjusted the temperature inside the cave and remained at his side.

Studying Blake’s face, the bizarre situation felt like a dream.

Disheveled black hair clung to Blake’s cheeks.

Albin reached out and gently tidied it, tucking the hair on the left side of his forehead behind his ear.

Using water magic, he washed away the dirt on Blake’s face.

The comic’s art style was already beautiful.

But somehow, the real person was even more handsome.

Seeing the tear mole clearly, Albin couldn’t help thinking of Little Black, whom he had searched for for so long.

His thoughts drifted for a moment.

Still, plenty of people had tear moles. There was no reason to make wild assumptions without evidence.

Besides, the comic’s artist seemed to love drawing moles. Almost every member of the main cast had one.

Albin shook off the thought and examined Blake’s closed eyes.

I wonder what color they are…

The black-and-white comic gave no clue.

The series had never featured a color page.

Albin couldn’t help feeling curious.

Blue would probably look nice.

He remembered how Blake often gazed up at the sky in the comic, clouds reflected in his eyes like mirrors of heaven.

Albin recalled the story.

Blake was a cold-hearted youth devoted entirely to revenge.

In daily life he was an absolute training fanatic.

In battle, he always charged forward like a lone wolf, throwing himself into danger to tear apart his enemies.

The broken sword he never parted with was his father’s keepsake.

Its shortened length forced him into close-quarters combat.

Those slightly reckless fight scenes were undeniably cool.

But every time Albin read them, he worried.

With nothing else to do, Albin dusted off Blake’s cloak as well.

The hem was tattered and worn.

Several areas had been patched, though the stitching was so neat it was difficult to notice.

The comic had actually shown those patches being sewn by Blake himself.

Because buying information cost a great deal of money, Blake lived frugally.

Unfortunately, his fighting style practically guaranteed injuries.

Samoyed could heal wounds, but not clothing.

As a result, his clothes wore out quickly.

So after every battle, Blake would quietly repair them himself.

The image of a cool, stoic swordsman sewing clothes by lamplight had shocked his companions the first time they discovered it.

So cute.

Albin couldn’t help smiling.

Blake had absolutely no interest in shopping.

He couldn’t understand modern fashion trends at all.

Many common products in the marketplace seemed unfamiliar to him, and he never knew any popular topics.

He didn’t resemble someone his own age in the slightest.

The only things he ever wanted to buy were related to revenge.

And that tendency had gotten him scammed before.

There was one chapter where con artists tricked Blake into spending all his travel funds and rewards on supposedly magic-enhanced armor.

The result?

A pile of worthless scrap metal.

Of course, once he realized he’d been cheated, Blake immediately tracked them down, beat them up, turned them over to the authorities, and recovered his money.

Resting his chin in his hands, Albin remembered the scene, smiling with curved eyes.

Even getting scammed was adorable.

It makes me want to bully him just a tiny bit more.

But when he got revenge afterward, he was so cool.

Those scammers were scared into kneeling and begging for mercy.

After folding the cleaned cloak and setting it aside, Albin removed his own black cloak embroidered with golden thread and folded it neatly as well.

While Blake looked cute repairing clothes, Albin felt that, as a fan, he shouldn’t have to keep wearing a tattered cloak.

The cave was quiet.

Without realizing it, Albin found himself listening to Blake’s breathing.

For some reason, simply hearing those faint breaths made him feel strangely reassured.

His heart raced, and a deep sense of happiness filled him.

So cute…

Then he suddenly realized what he was thinking.

Albin immediately snapped back to reality and covered his face.

Sure, he was a huge fan of the protagonist.

But staring at someone nonstop, grinning strangely, and paying attention to their breathing…

If Blake woke up now, he’d probably think Albin was some kind of creep.

Fortunately, he was wearing a mask.

Noticing a change in Blake’s breathing, Albin slapped his cheeks and began pacing around, trying his best to look normal.

But Blake still didn’t wake up.

Instead, his breathing became rapid.

His face gradually turned red.

He looked uncomfortable.

Albin instantly realized something was wrong.

Removing one glove, he pressed a hand against Blake’s forehead.

Damn it.

He’s got a fever!

It was obviously caused by his earlier injuries.

Unfortunately, Albin’s magic couldn’t reduce fevers.

He needed a fever-reducing potion.

This was the Lily-of-the-Valley Kingdom.

There should be a Healing Temple in a nearby town, and they would likely sell medicine.

Albin prepared to leave.

But the unconscious Blake suddenly grabbed his hand.

Albin froze.

The harder he tried to pull away, the tighter Blake’s grip became.

Confused, he glanced down.

Fortunately, Blake had grabbed the hand still wearing a glove.

Using a bit of finesse, Albin slipped free, leaving only the glove behind in Blake’s grasp.

“I’ll be back very soon.”

After setting up a protective spell around the cave, Albin hurried toward the nearest town alone.

There really was a Healing Temple there.

He quickly bought the potion he needed and began heading back.

“Woof! Woof!”

Suddenly, a Samoyed came charging toward him, happily running circles around him.

There was a red marking on the dog’s forehead, identical to the one in the comic.

This was Blake’s companion.

“Yeye!”

The people Albin had only ever seen in the comic—Arthur and Lina—came running over as well.

They asked in confusion:

“Yeye, why are you circling around this person? Weren’t we looking for Blake? Is the rain making it hard to track his scent?”

Seeing comic characters appear before him one after another, Albin froze.

After a long moment, he finally found his voice.

“Are you looking for a black-haired young man? I found him earlier. It seems he fought someone and is currently unconscious with severe injuries.”

He held up the potion in his hand.

“I bought this fever medicine for him. I’ll take you to him.”

Although Albin looked suspicious with his mask on, perhaps because of the Samoyed’s enthusiastic reaction—or perhaps because of the aura he carried—Arthur and Lina trusted him surprisingly easily.

“Do you think he ran into one of the Apostles of White again?” Arthur guessed.

Albin’s pupils contracted.

What do you mean, again?

Does that mean everything in the comic is actually true?

Am I really living in the world of the comic?

No.

No matter what, Albin still couldn’t believe that.

He couldn’t believe his family were the villains described in the comic.

Carefully, he tested the waters.

“You’ve encountered members of the Apostles of White before?”

The stranger’s question immediately made the two of them wary.

They answered vaguely, trying to brush the topic aside.

After all, they had already become enemies of the Apostles of White and were still being hunted.

Seeing their caution, Albin chose not to press the matter.

Lost in thought, he led them into the cave.

When they saw Blake lying there, his clothes torn but otherwise safe, his companions finally believed that Albin had been telling the truth and thanked him sincerely.

With Blake’s companions now present, Albin knew there was no reason for him to stay any longer.

He needed to hurry back.

His father would be arriving before long.

His mind was still a mess.

Handing the potion to them, he prepared to leave.

“What’s this?” Arthur asked, pointing at a bundle beside the medicine.

“Dried fruit,” Albin explained. “The medicine is a little bitter, so this helps.”

He bent down to pick up the glove he had dropped earlier.

The other glove, however, was still clutched tightly in Blake’s hand, and no matter how he looked at it, it didn’t seem like he would be getting it back.

Reluctantly, he gave up.

Before he left, Lina asked for his name and thanked him once again.

“My name is Ross.”

Albin glanced at the unconscious Blake, his emotions complicated, before turning away.

He had to figure out what was really going on.

As soon as he stepped out of the cave, the Samoyed happily chased after him again.

Albin patted its head.

“Good dog. Thank you for always protecting him.”

After finding Jade, Albin traveled through the night and hurried back to Thorn City.

---

While waiting for his father to return, he read the latest chapter of the comic.

The chapter began with Blake being dragged by his companions to a marketplace near the city gate to buy supplies for their journey.

At first, Albin thought it would be another lighthearted slice-of-life chapter.

Unexpectedly, Blake suddenly spotted a familiar cloak in the crowd.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

Before his mind could even process it, his body was already moving.

He sprinted after the figure, leaving his companions behind.

Yet despite his efforts, he still lost sight of the man in the crimson cloak among the crowd.

Blake wasn’t discouraged.

Without wasting a moment, he immediately began searching the surrounding area.

This time, his efforts paid off.

Outside the city, deep within a forest, he finally found the person he had been looking for.

A cold, stern man with white hair and crimson eyes.

It seemed the man had already noticed Blake’s pursuit and had deliberately appeared before him.

Albin recognized him instantly.

It was his father.

But for some reason, the version of his father in the comic looked weak.

Gripping the crystal tightly, Albin continued reading.

Blake drew his broken sword and demanded:

“First Apostle, Lord of Pride—was it you who killed my father?!”

Zeman looked at him with cold contempt.

Without offering any explanation, he admitted it immediately.

“It was me.”

Blake’s sword hand trembled with rage.

His eyes blazed as he glared at Zeman.

Unlike his battle against Sutanlai, this time he entered his demonic form the instant the confrontation began.

“I’ll kill you—!!”

The chapter’s final panel showed Blake charging forward, surging with murderous intent and overwhelming demonic power as he rushed toward Zeman.

---

Albin nearly had a heart attack.

What kind of absurd plot was this?!

How had his father suddenly become Blake’s father’s murderer?

Judging from the location shown in the comic, did that mean the one who injured Blake was also his father?

Albin was so upset he couldn’t even focus on the comments.

Before yesterday, he could have dismissed the comic as complete nonsense.

But yesterday he had met Blake with his own eyes.

Biting his lower lip, he couldn’t understand any of it.

Just then, Zeman returned.

He looked different from the version in the comic.

The same cold features remained, but when he looked at Albin, his gaze was calm and gentle.

There wasn’t the slightest sign of weakness about him.

“I brought you a gift—”

Before he could finish speaking, Albin suddenly threw himself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

Zeman looked puzzled.

Gently stroking Albin’s hair, he asked softly,

“What happened?”

His voice calmed Albin somewhat.

The comic had to be wrong.

His father was clearly kind and caring.

That’s right.

Even if Blake and the others really existed, that didn’t mean the comic wasn’t distorting the truth.

“It’s nothing. I just haven’t seen you for several days and missed you.”

Forcing himself to sound cheerful, Albin lowered his head and eagerly began opening the gift.

“What did you bring me this time, Dad?”

“Some specialties from the Lily Kingdom. Things you liked before you lost your memories…”

The Lily Kingdom.

Blake and the others were there.

Albin’s eyes flickered.

“Isn’t that your hometown? Since I have some free time lately, why don’t we go visit Grandpa and Grandma together?”

“No.”

Zeman refused immediately.

“I still have matters to attend to. Stay in Thorn City with Jade for now. I’ll take you back another time.”

Something was wrong.

Dad was acting strange.

Albin wasn’t a child anymore.

He could tell his father was hiding something.

Lately, he kept finding excuses to keep Albin inside Thorn City.

Could the comic actually be telling the truth?

No.

He still refused to believe it.

But his father’s evasiveness filled him with unease.

He remembered how, in one of his letters, he had written pages complaining about all the things his father used to hide from him.

That time, he had nearly lost his father forever.

When Dad goes quiet, something is definitely wrong.

But if his father refused to say anything, what could he do?

Last time, he had only learned the truth because he caught him red-handed.

How was he supposed to do that this time?

How was he supposed to investigate?

The comic updated far too slowly.

Waiting for information through the comic alone wasn’t an option.

And his father wouldn’t talk.

Was he supposed to sit by and wait until everything was over?

If this really was the world of the comic…

If Blake was the protagonist…

And if his father was Blake’s enemy…

Then could his father truly have a good ending?

Albin couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

He didn’t want to lose his father.

He had promised to protect his family.

While desperately thinking of a solution, his gaze landed on the compass rose pendant hanging beneath his father’s cloak.

Suddenly, inspiration struck.

I’ve got it!

He could start with the protagonist’s group.

Albin’s spirits immediately rose.

He would get close to the main cast, uncover the truth, and if possible, catch someone red-handed.

---

Lily Kingdom

After being unconscious for an entire day and night, Blake finally woke up.

His companions all breathed sighs of relief and hurried over to ask what had happened.

Blake, however, paid them no attention.

Looking down, he stared silently at the lone glove in his hand.

Lost in thought, he seemed to be remembering something.

He felt as though he had seen Little White.

And he had felt Little White’s magic.

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