Chapter 4: The Terror of Luck Stealers
And then Blake moved.
"Kehehe! I didn't expect a mere human like you to dodge my attack! You're making me want to devour you even more!"
The voice was grating, like nails on a chalkboard, accompanied by an eerie skittering that sent an uncomfortable shiver down Blake's spine.
Perched on the alley wall was a grotesque, three-meter-tall spider—if you could still call it that. Its monstrous body looked like something straight out of a horror movie, complete with thick, bristling hairs and needle-like legs. But the worst part?
The face attached to its front.
Human, yet twisted. Eyes too large, mouth stretched too wide, thick strands of hair sprouting from its cheeks like some demented werewolf.
Green, viscous saliva dripped from its lips, sizzling as it hit the pavement.
Blake's expression deadpanned. "Yeah… Nope. That's nightmare fuel."
The system chimed in.
Ding!
Mission Issued: Eliminate the Lower-Class Stray Devil
Reward: 20 Luck Points
Blake exhaled. "A monster encounter right after transmigrating? Just my luck."
A pause. Then, realizing what he just said, he added, "Wait, actually, scratch that. It's literally my luck. I should've seen this coming."
But there was no running away. If he couldn't handle a low-class stray devil, he had no business surviving in a world filled with gods, devils, and dragons.
And besides, he had a new toy to test out.
The spider demon chuckled darkly, its grotesque mouth twisting into something that might have been a grin. "Oh? You're not running? How foolish."
Blake unslung the sword bag from his back, undoing the straps with practiced ease.
"Are you stupid?" he asked, casually drawing his blade. The sound of steel rang through the alley. "This terrain works in my favor."
He pulled Frost Whisper free from its sheath. The slender, midnight-black blade gleamed under the dim streetlights, silver patterns dancing along its surface.
The spider demon screeched and lunged, its eight muscular legs propelling it forward with terrifying speed.
Half a meter away, it raised one spiked front leg, aiming to skewer Blake on the spot.
Crunch!
Blake was already gone. He sidestepped effortlessly, watching as the demon's leg smashed into the ground, cracking the pavement.
"Too slow."
With one smooth motion, he slashed downward at the creature's face.
Splurt!
A deep gash tore across its grotesque features. Green blood sprayed through the air.
"AAARRGGHHH!" the spider howled.
Its fury only made it sloppier.
The demon lunged again, its disgusting mouth wide open, rows of jagged teeth glistening with toxic saliva.
Blake tilted his head slightly. "Yeah, no thanks."
Thwack!
Another sidestep. Another clean strike—this time, straight through its eye.
The spider let out a guttural shriek, thrashing wildly. Then, suddenly—
Its hairs bristled.
Blake's instincts screamed at him.
Perceptual Distortion: Activated.
Time slowed.
He saw it—black, needle-like projectiles exploding outward like bullets, tearing through the alley walls and pavement.
Had he reacted a second later, he would've been Swiss cheese.
Instead, he landed gracefully a few meters away, perfectly unscathed.
The demon? Still thrashing. Still bleeding. Still too dumb to realize it was completely outclassed.
Dodging the frenzied spider's attacks was… well, almost too easy.
Blake barely had to try. He weaved through its wild swings like he was taking a casual evening stroll, his blade slicing at the creature's joints and weak points.
But—
Even with Frost Whisper's sharpness, he couldn't land a killing blow.
His strikes either bounced off its tough exoskeleton or got snagged on bone.
Blake clicked his tongue. Tch. Annoying.
"This confirms it," he muttered. "While Frost Whisper is a good blade, it's still just a normal sword. If I had a High-Class weapon, this thing would already be dead."
The spider demon, now on its last nerve, screeched. "WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE?!"
Blake smirked. "Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing."
---
Let's Try Luck Plundering, Shall We?
"Sia," Blake called mentally. "Analyze its stats."
"Right away, Master."
A translucent status screen popped up.
---
Name: Andreu, Stray Devil
Level: Lower-Class Devil
Age: 40
Luck Value: 15 (Base: 20)
---
Blake rubbed his chin. "Fifteen luck, huh? No wonder this thing's cannon fodder."
Then, an idea struck him.
"Sia," he grinned. "Initiate a basic luck plundering on Andreu."
"As you wish, Master."
The moment the command was issued, Blake felt it.
Something shifted.
Like an invisible hand grasping the threads of fate and twisting them ever so slightly.
Ding!
> Luck siphoning successful!
Andreu's luck reduced by 25 points.
Current luck value: -10.
Master's total luck is now 25.
Blake barely had time to process the update before the night sky darkened.
Thunder rumbled.
A massive bolt of blue lightning tore through the heavens.
BOOM!
The strike hit dead center.
The spider demon screamed as electricity ripped through its body, searing its flesh, frying its insides.
When the light faded—
All that remained was a charred, smoldering corpse.
Blake exhaled, lowering his blade. His heart still pounded from the rush of combat.
Sia's voice hummed in his mind. "Master, you handled that quite well. Though I must say… that luck siphoning was a bit overkill."
Blake snorted. "Yeah, tell that to the spider roast over there."
He glanced at the burnt husk of his former enemy, then back up at the sky.
"Okay," he admitted, cracking a grin. "That was way cooler than I expected."
Luck Plundering wasn't just useful—it was terrifying. He could turn fate itself into a weapon.
Blake sheathed Frost Whisper, stretching his shoulders.
"I still have a long way to go," he muttered.
Then, smirking to himself, he added, "But this is gonna be fun."
---
Re Worked