And as suddenly as a thunderclap splits the sky, Mize's body tensed, his feet bending down to the floor as he accumulated strength in a split second."Let's dance"
The cubes, which had been mere objects in his hand, began to emit an eerie glow, their light growing brighter with each passing moment.
He pressed them close to his chest, and in an unsettling, almost impossible way, the cubes began to melt—merging into his very flesh as if being absorbed by his heart.
"Damn!" A voice echoed from above, filled with frustration and urgency.
Before Mize could fully process what was happening, the ceiling above him exploded with a deafening *BOOM!*, sending shards of wood and debris flying through the air.
A figure cloaked in the deep, shadowy hues of night crashed through with incredible force, landing in the room with the power of a falling meteor.
The darkness clung to this intruder like a second skin, obscuring their features, but the fury emanating from them was unmistakable.
Mize instinctively leaped backward, his movements swift and fluid, even as his lips curled into a mocking smile.
The glowing light from thr cubes had fully vanished into his chest, leaving a faint, pulsing energy in its wake.
His eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and triumph as he tilted his head, a twisted grin playing on his lips.
"Too late, Ooo Mr.Stalker" Mize taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm and confidence.
"You are so bad at deceiving."
"The setup of the fake story is very poor in details"
His neck twisted slightly, almost as if he were mocking the very essence of the one who stood before him, challenging them most brazenly.
"Damn you!!!" The cloaked figure roared, their voice filled with pure, unbridled rage.
Mize's smile widened as he watched the intruder, his posture relaxed, almost casual, despite the intensity of the situation.
"You thought you could keep me in the dark," Mize said, his voice a mixture of triumph and scorn.
"But I've always been one step ahead. This world… this body… they're mine now."
The figure's rage-filled gaze bore into Mize, but it was too late.
"Hahaha, hey, hey" Mize laughed, his voice laced with a taunting glee.
"If you want to keep your fare a secret, at least erase the smell of blood from the room"
"Just how amateur can you be?" With a casual flick of his wrist, he adjusted his glasses against the bridge of his nose, the lenses catching the dim light as they slid into place.
His other hand moved smoothly, spreading his arms wide as if welcoming the seething anger that radiated from the figure before him.
A grin etched itself across his face, daring his adversary to react.
"Now look," Mize continued, his tone dripping with mockery, "your so-called clues are crumpled, and your cubes are inside of me... Ever heard of a great liar that plays with the house?"
The figure, instead of responding with words, merely snorted—a sound full of disdain and tightly restrained fury.
Without warning, the figure moved.
A swish of fabric cut through the air as the cloaked intruder launched forward with incredible speed, faster than a bullet, a blur of shadow and motion.
Dust stirred from the floor as the cloak caught the faint moonlight, casting an eerie half-light across the room, highlighting the figure's dark silhouette against the backdrop of the window.
From the depths of the figure's robe, a hand emerged, its fingers twisted into a precise shape.
In a single, fluid motion, it slashed through the air, an unseen weapon hissing through the stillness like a serpent striking its prey.
The weapon's trajectory was deadly, aimed directly at Mize's heart, the intent clear and lethal.
Mize's eyes narrowed slightly, the grin on his face unshaken but his thoughts quick and calculating.
"And I thought he was a bit different" He mused, almost disappointed by the predictable attack.
But there was no time for idle thoughts—the weapon was nearly upon him, and the deadly accuracy of the strike left no room for error.
Yet, Mize didn't flinch. Instead, he moved with a speed that matched his adversary's, his body twisting gracefully to the side.
The weapon grazed the air where his chest had been only a moment before, slicing through space as Mize sidestepped with a fluidity that belied the tension in the room.
"Is that all you've got?" Mize taunted, his voice calm and his smile still in place as he locked eyes with the cloaked figure.
"You've been trying so hard to keep up, but in the end, you're just like the rest—predictable and blinded by emotions"
The figure's eyes, barely visible beneath the shadow of the hood, burned with anger and frustration.
Mize could feel the intensity of that gaze, the sheer rage behind it.
"Now," Mize said, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial whisper, "shall we see who really understands the game we're playing?"
Both sides halted their movements, the tension between them palpable.
On one side stood the hooded figure, his posture tense with anger but also cautious, clearly filled with a mixture of surprise and frustration.
On the other side was Mize, his face alight with amusement and excitement, though a subtle hint of wariness danced in his eyes.
The two men faced each other in the dim light, both aware that they were teetering on the edge of something dangerous.
The hooded man's head lowered slightly, his arms now resting loosely at his sides.
Beneath the cover of darkness, his features were indistinguishable, leaving his expression a mystery.
Yet, it was clear to Mize that his adversary was carefully considering his next move, weighing the options with a deliberation that spoke of experience and cunning.
Mize, in turn, waited silently, a gentle smile playing on his lips, betraying nothing of his thoughts.
"I thought I had changed enough for you not to remember, for you not to doubt," the figure finally spoke, his voice low and almost contemplative.
He slowly raised his head, and though his eyes remained hidden beneath the shadow of his hood, Mize could feel the weight of his gaze, as if those invisible eyes were piercing through him, trying to unravel the enigma that he had become.
The figure's words hung in the air, a confession of sorts, laced with regret and perhaps a touch of bitterness. "I gave you a fake memory, a fake belief, and I thought you would be the key as I guided you to the guidance. But now, the cubes are gone, the story is broken... How unfortunate "
"And it failed?" Mize's smile widened, but there was something almost innocent in the way he asked the question as if he were genuinely curious rather than gloating over the apparent victory.
"It didn't," the figure replied, a hint of defiance in his tone. "At least, you believed that you were reborn in another world."
Mize's eyes lowered, the light catching on his glasses and hiding his expression behind a reflective gleam. "Really," he murmured, as if the revelation were a minor detail, "now that's interesting."
The hooded figure remained still, his presence looming like a shadow over the room.
His next words carried the weight of finality, tinged with resignation. "Now that the plan has failed, I will have to catch another mouse for the guidance."
"Ohhh?" Mize's voice was light, almost teasing, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a subtle shift in his tone that suggested he wasn't as carefree as he appeared.
The wariness in his eyes had deepened, mingling with his amusement, creating a complex blend of emotions that even he might not fully understand.
"And for you to tell me this? Some sort of hobby?" Mize teased, his smile widening into a grin that barely masked the sharpness in his eyes.
It was a playful jab, meant to unsettle, but the hooded man responded stiffly, as if reciting something that came naturally to him.
"Then? I thought it would be normal for the cows in the shed to know how it dies, no?"
"To be slaughtered as food"
"How confident for a man who didn't manage to land the first blow just now" Mize chuckled, his voice low but clear enough for both of them to hear.
The words were meant to sting, to remind his opponent of his failure.
The man in the hood didn't flinch. "It was a mistake," he replied, his tone cold and clinical, devoid of any emotion. "This world is prone to errors"
"Like you—a mistake. Who would have thought that a mere commoner like you would possess such skill? I wonder, are you even a commoner… or something else?"
Mize's eyes narrowed the playful edge to his expression fading into something more serious.
The hooded man's words had struck a nerve, but Mize wouldn't let it show. Instead, he remained silent, letting the tension hang between them.
"No matter," the man continued, his voice hardening with resolve. "That just means I will have to get rid of you now"
"Get rid of me?" Mize spoke, his voice calm, though his body was coiled with readiness. "Now that's a good joke... I am waiting for the punch line... "