Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 192

‘This thing isn’t human—it’s practically a machine...’

He looked down at the slime resting in his palm. It was less a beast and more a magical device with barely any sense of self. The slime was a monster that did nothing but swallow living things into its body. Having such a faint self-awareness meant it had virtually no thoughts or emotions. That’s why Pebble hadn’t been able to detect it.

Pebble could sense a wide range of living beings—humans, animals, monsters—but not the minds of insects or similar entities. It was like trying to distinguish individual specks of dust on the floor: its ability only worked on creatures with /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ a clear sense of self. Ayra gently stroked the slightly deflated Pebble, who was downcast over failing to detect the slime, as a way of comforting it.

Janus, lazily sprawled across the bed, looked at Ayra handling the slime so carefully and asked,

"So, what was that all about earlier? Are you saying you like that pale-colored thing more than me now? Are you cheating on me in front of my own eyes?"

Ayra thought Janus was joking, which was rare... No, judging by his eyes, maybe he wasn’t joking.

"Janus, no matter how much I like magical beasts, I don’t see them as serious partners."

"I’m a magical beast too."

"...I meant any beast that’s not you. Absolutely not interested in them."

Janus let out a sly laugh, making it seem like he had only been teasing. Ayra cleared her throat and explained briefly.

"This is a mimic-type monster-magic puppet. It’s a bit tricky to deal with, but if the timing’s right, I can reverse-track it and plant a binding curse on the controller’s head. Right about now, whoever was manipulating this thing should be in so much agony they won’t be able to resist coming to find me."

Ever since Hera had begun investigating the spy, Ayra had sensed something off. No matter how skilled a spy might be, the fact that multiple people had seemingly appeared out of nowhere—no trace, no trail—was absurd.

The same went for Pebble’s inability to detect them. Until now, Ayra had never seen anyone who could either notice or defend against Pebble’s ability. That meant the spy either didn’t exist in the territory... or was something whose thoughts couldn’t be read.

Above all, the hint from Act had been decisive: the trailing speech, the vacant stares, the twitching fingers bending and unbending.

These were all classic signs of remotely controlling a mimic-type monster-magic puppet. At such long range, fine motor control—like fingers, toes, or the tongue—tended to break down. It was a telltale feature of someone using a slime puppet to keep themselves at a safe distance.

Most people would have dismissed it as an odd habit. But anyone who had ever used one of these mimic puppets would recognize it instantly.

Ayra rolled the still-warm slime core around in her hand and focused on restoring her mana. He rested, waited—and three days later, the person he’d been waiting for finally arrived. Jinas came to report.

"My lady, the guest you mentioned has arrived. They said they wish to see you. They're waiting in the hall. What shall I do?"

"Oh? They’re finally here?"

Hearing Jinas’s report, Ayra set aside the work she’d been handling for the territory and leisurely wiped the ink from her hands with a warm towel Botello handed her. Only after wiping thoroughly and drinking a cup of hot tea did she rise from her seat.

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Janus, who’d been playing with Pebble—grabbing and releasing it just to mess with it—saw the strange smile that appeared on Ayra’s face. With interest glinting in his eyes, he let Pebble go.

"Looks like you’re about to do something fun."

"Not that fun."

Ayra stroked the sulking Pebble again. It probably wouldn’t be that entertaining—it would be over in an instant.

When Ayra and Janus descended to the hall, sure enough, just as Jinas said, the guest was waiting. Sitting on the stairs, drenched in cold sweat, face pale—it was a familiar face. Ayra descended the steps slowly, one by one, and greeted them with a smile.

"Been a while."

"...Ayra."

"Yeah, Shinje. I knew it was you."

Though he tried to smile back, his lips trembled. His name was Shinje, a classmate from the Labyrinth who had attended the funeral with Ayra. As Ayra stepped down another stair, Shinje stood up in a panic and stepped back. A wise move.

‘But it would’ve been wiser to just leave for the Labyrinth from the start.’

With that thought, Ayra radiated a threatening air—all while smiling brightly.

"Trying to pull tricks in my territory, are you?"

"Ayra, please, just listen to me—"

"I thought it was strange. We weren’t even that close, and yet you showed up at the funeral."

With a dry laugh, Ayra sliced the air and opened a subspace pocket, pulling out a magical tool: a device with differently sized orbs on each corner of a square frame. At the sight of it, Shinje’s face hardened. In his other hand, Ayra pulled out a mana stone. Thanks to the territory’s improving finances, he could now lavish his devices with magic without hesitation. The tool floated above his hand, slowly rotating.

"Want me to help?"

Janus offered, sounding almost like, Want me to beat him up with you? He rolled up his sleeves playfully, and Shinje’s eyes widened as he stumbled back. From his reaction, Ayra immediately knew—Shinje recognized Janus’s identity. It meant he hadn’t just used a slime; he must’ve also employed surveillance magic tools.

Such devices, favored by Labyrinth mages, usually resembled small animals—mice, birds, insects—and were hard to detect. Of course, they would have been useless inside the Lord’s Castle, which was protected by security spells. Still, the fact that Ayra hadn’t noticed at all wounded his pride.

He’d relied too much on Pebble and hadn’t even considered that a fellow Labyrinth mage might be up to something. Perhaps he had let his guard down because Shinje had remained affiliated with the Labyrinth for so long. But that place was less a home than a jungle ruled by survival of the fittest. With that renewed awareness, Ayra replied.

"No, I can handle this myself. Just watch from there."

As he injected mana into the device, it began to emit a mournful string-like sound. The spherical orbs on each corner slowly shrank, and in the tool’s empty center, a shimmering light began to gather and expand. It was the kind of light that muddled the mind if stared at too long.

While Shinje was distracted by the magical device, the candlestick beside Ayra began to tremble—then shot forward like a spear.

"...Ah!"

As the candlestick pierced his body, Shinje opened his mouth as if to scream—but instead of blood, his form collapsed and dispersed like mist.

"Yeah, I didn’t expect you to just walk in willingly. If you’re a Labyrinth mage, you should at least put up a fight."

With a snap of his fingers, Ayra triggered an illusion, and Shinje’s figure reappeared in the corner of the hall. His face was as pale and sickly as in the previous illusion—but the magical tool in his hand was different. Wiping sweat from his brow, he sneered.

"Would you really let me go even if I had walked in nicely?"

"Of course not."

Ayra wore a serene smile, but his eyes burned with fury. He had always hated when others touched what was his. And the land, the people of the territory—they were undeniably his.

"You’re coming at me with illusion magic?"

"Haha, I’ll admit illusion magic is a difficult art. But... you’re not the only one who can use it."

With those words, Shinje’s figure began to split. Soon, copies of him appeared all over the hall, each holding a magical tool. Janus, now lounging at the base of the stairs, bit into a mana stone with a crunch, as if watching a play. Ayra let out a snort as he watched the hall fill with dozens of Shinjes.

The device floating in Ayra’s hand hummed like it was singing. As it rotated, a shimmering beam of light shot into the air.

One by one, the Shinje copies began to disappear. Some popped like soap bubbles. Others had their limbs severed, caught fire, or suddenly vomited water and drowned. Some swelled like balloons and burst. Others cracked like rocks and shattered. As each illusion died, color drained further from Shinje’s face.

But of course, being a Labyrinth mage himself, Shinje wasn’t going down without a fight. He poured mana into his magical tool with all his might.

One of his vanishing clones began to churn, then transformed into a massive tidal wave that surged across the hall. The crashing roar of water rose all the way to the ceiling and rushed to engulf Ayra.

But even as the towering wave loomed over him, Ayra’s expression remained composed. He spun the tool in his hand once more, and this time, the sound of children laughing brightly rang out.

In an instant, the towering wave turned into hundreds of blue butterflies, fluttering past Ayra like strands of silk. A few droplets splashed on his cheek and vanished immediately, leaving no trace.

As Ayra’s and Shinje’s spells collided, the center of the hall became a blur of rapidly shifting illusions. Thunder cracked, then in the wake of lightning, a massive golem rose. Its giant fist swung down, only for its head to fall off mid-motion and splash into a puddle. From that puddle, a beast with sharp teeth emerged, flapped its wings—only to have them break and send it crashing. The snapped wings turned into spikes, shooting upward.

For a brief moment, the two stood evenly matched—but as time passed, it was Shinje whose face paled further and further. No matter how threatening his illusions were, Ayra dispelled them all effortlessly. One by one, his clones disappeared, until only the despairing original remained.