Chapter 638: Chapter 638 The Perfect Trap Is Set
For Phoebe Billy, getting authorization to deploy the black and gold robes felt nearly impossible.
Every single black and gold robe outranked Phoebe in both power and position, despite his title as Vice President being mostly for show.
Yet Phoebe understood deep down that taking out Mason Raymond would earn him massive recognition and remove a dangerous threat.
——
I spent the entire night sitting in the courtyard, sleep nowhere to be found.
I stared up at the moon hanging in the dark sky and let out a quiet sigh.
"What am I supposed to do..." I whispered to myself.
If I tell the mustached guy about the mask, my story would definitely expose the link between Watson Thompson and the masked woman.
If Watson gets hurt because of this, I’d never forgive myself.
But if I don’t do it, how can I save Mabel Sean?
The mustached man seems reliable enough, but his loyalty only lasts until the right price comes along. Once the stakes get high enough, there’s no telling what he might do.
So I sat there all night long.
When dawn broke, I stood up and gritted my teeth. "Watson, I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe!"
For Mabel’s sake, I had no other options.
I walked to the mustached man’s room and knocked.
The door swung open, and the mustached man rubbed his sleepy eyes. "What’s going on? The Master isn’t up yet."
I said, "You wanted to know where the mask is, right? I can tell you."
"Seriously?" The mustached man’s eyes went wide, and he snapped awake instantly.
I nodded. "But first you need to explain exactly how to control this male corpse."
The mustached man waved his hand dismissively. "Look, I already told you, only I know this technique. Just bring me the mask, and I’ll take care of everything."
I narrowed my eyes. "I’m asking you - does controlling this male corpse require some kind of preparation?"
The mustached man looked startled, then mumbled, "How’d you figure that out?"
I rolled my eyes. "Everything you do needs tons of prep work. Controlling a male corpse isn’t child’s play. Of course it needs preparation."
The mustached man grumbled, "Yeah, you’re right. And I need specific materials that I don’t have right now."
"Fine," I nodded.
"Once you’ve got the materials ready, I’ll show you the mask," I said.
The mustached man suddenly panicked. He grabbed my arm and said, "Wait! Just let me see the mask, even for a second!"
"No," I said firmly.
"Use this time to get your materials together."
The mustached man started freaking out, scratching his head and pacing around, but he couldn’t force me to change my mind.
"Alright, I’ll do it," he finally gave in.
"But don’t mess with me. These materials are a pain to find," he warned.
"Don’t worry, I’m more eager than you are," I shot back.
Then I asked, "How long will collecting these materials take?"
The mustached man thought it over. "At least a month, maybe up to six months. Either way, I’ll move as fast as I can."
"That’s longer than I hoped," I thought.
But this was still the quickest path to challenging the Capital City Martial Arts Association.
If I had to do this alone, I’d need to reach peak Military Marquis level at minimum, maybe even become a Martial Saint.
But hitting Martial Saint level in such a short time was basically impossible.
"So get moving on those preparations. I’ll be waiting," I said.
The mustached man didn’t waste time and left that same day to hunt for materials.
After he was gone, I pulled out my phone and opened the Martial Arts Forum.
Just like I expected, the forum was going crazy.
Even though the Capital City Martial Arts Association tried hard to contain the news, the impact was too massive for them to handle.
"Who the hell is this black-robed guy? He actually made the Capital City Martial Arts Association take such a huge hit!"
"Nobody’s had the guts to steal from them in years."
"Even Mason Raymond couldn’t pull off something like this back in the day."
"I heard this person is Angela Tamara! That veteran top-tier Military Marquis!"
"Yeah, word is Angela’s from an older generation than Paul Randall. If it’s really him, that would make sense."
"He hit the auction, killed three black and gold robes, then walked away like a boss. Man, that’s scary."
Pretty soon, "black-robed man" became code for mystery.
And naturally, the Capital City Martial Arts Association looked like complete fools.
——
At a golf course in Capital City.
Several young aristocrats had gathered there today.
"Did you hear the black-robed man killed two black and gold robes, and if Hawk Thompson hadn’t run so fast, he might’ve died too?" Wayne Ran said seriously.
Wilbert Jaxon smiled slightly. "Pretty much everyone knows that news by now. Hard to miss it."
"Who is this guy with such incredible power? Could it really be Angela Tamara?" Pearson Bowman frowned.
Elena Green, who’d been quiet, shook her head. "I don’t think it’s Angela. He’d have no reason to do this."
"If it’s not Angela, who else could it be? It definitely can’t be Paul Randall," everyone laughed.
"Man, I heard that anyone who gets bloodline from the Capital City Martial Arts Association becomes his target. We don’t even dare go there now," Wayne sighed.
All of them were on the list, which should’ve been great news. But with the black-robed man still out there, they simply didn’t dare show up.
Despite being top-tier young aristocrats from Capital City, they only had one life each.
"Yeah, if we run into the black-robed man, we... might not even survive," Pearson sighed too.
"There’s always someone stronger out there. I used to think pretty highly of myself," someone said with self-mockery.
Right then, Zora Solomon snorted coldly. "We shouldn’t put ourselves down. The black-robed man’s probably been training for decades. If he were our age, he definitely wouldn’t be our match."
"That’s true. Zora has a point."
"The black-robed man’s been training for years - he just traded time for power."
Zora’s words seemed to win everyone over.
——
The next day, the Capital City Martial Arts Association’s operation officially started.
In the Association’s office, eight black and gold robes stood before Phoebe.
These eight black and gold robes were all mid-level Military Marquises.
Not only that, they carried several magical artifacts!
"Is everything set up at the location?" Phoebe looked them over and asked.
"Yes, we’ve created a perfect trap. As soon as he shows up, he’s dead!" one of the black and gold robes answered.
Phoebe took a deep breath, stood up, and said, "I’ll request the Martial Saint Weapon from President Cooper! I’ll make sure we kill him the moment we get the chance!"
