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9.64% Sword Pop Culture LitRPG: Unsheathing Judgment Day! / Chapter 11: Mentos The Scrap Diver    

Kapitel 11: Mentos The Scrap Diver    

Katana Creek - Mentos's Abode.

"And that's pretty much what happened." Said Hao, finishing his account to Mentos of how he acquired the X-Class weapon.

"So you're telling me, that sword is judgment day?" At first, he expressed disbelief, but Hao persisted, showing him a document he'd taken from his mother's study long ago. The document was contained in an S-Catalogue.

Mentos examined the S-Catalogue with an unsettled expression as he took in the information. The visual representation he saw had him baffled, it was close in semblance to the item resting on his table. "Huh, this can't be…" shock registering on his face. He lost his balance and fell back onto his buttocks.

"Are you ok mate?" Hao quickly moved to help his friend to his feet.

In a flurry of panic, Mentos hurriedly closed the doors and windows, ensuring no one could eavesdrop on their conversation. His actions betrayed the fear that had taken hold of him at the sight of Judgment Day and the information he'd just discovered.

"Vee, how did you say you get your hands on that sword again?" Mentos asked, terrified. He stared at Judgment Day from a distance, his back pressed firmly against the wall as if trying to merge with it. His body was shaking with unease.

"I've already told you. Do you need me to go over it again? Fine, keep your ears open this time." Hao began recounting the events that led to him acquiring the sword.

As he spoke, Mentos's heart galloped, feeling as if it might burst from his chest. He couldn't believe what Hao was telling him. "You robbed the Imperial Storehouse! Are you insane?" Mentos hollered in shock.

"Shush! Keep your voice down, mate" Hao warned, covering his friend's mouth quickly.

The conversation continued, with Mentos pleading, "You need to give it back. That weapon is cursed. Do you know how many people it has killed, and how many cities it has laid waste to? Why do you think it's called Judgment Day?"

Attempting to ease his friend's concern, Hao replied, "I understand your worries, Mentos, but I didn't take this sword without reason. I believe it can help us in our fight against the oppressive regime that has been stirring up lately. It's not the sword that's cursed, but rather the people who have wielded it in the past with ill intent."

"Oppressive regime my ass. Show me where it is. You can't because there is no such thing. I know you, Vee, you're very selfish." Despite Hao's words, Mentos couldn't shake his fear. "I'm not ready to be punished for my friend's foolishness. Please, God, spare me," he exaggerated, hands clasped together in prayer.

Hao told him, "Calm down, mate."

Still panicking, Mentos paced around the room, trying to come to terms with the current situation. He feared that the Optimum Security Division or Imperial Hounds would burst through his door at any moment and lock his ass up. Desperate for information, he checked the media to see if there was any news of the Imperial Storehouse getting robbed.

"Huh, that's odd," he said, finding nothing. "Why is there no report yet?"

Hearing this, Hao surmised, "Maybe they don't want the word to get out. If you think about it, nobody knew they had hold of Judgment Day this whole time. So imagine the uproar it would cause if the public knew it was stolen by a nameless Blade Engineer. It would be catastrophic. I can imagine many shady characters wanting to get their hands on this X-Class sword."

Mentos shouted at Hao, "You're shady too! Oh my God, I can't believe you've roped me into this mess!" As he bit his nails and pulled at his hair, his panic escalated, feeling as if a heart attack was imminent.

Seeing his friend's distress, Hao quickly fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, hoping to calm him down and prevent a full-blown meltdown. "Here drink up. This should make you feel less agitated."

"Give it here." Mentos took the cup of water and gulped it down like there was no tomorrow. The wetness was spilt all over his frightened face.

A few minutes later, both Hao and Mentos gathered around the small, rickety table, the X-Class sword—Judgment Day, resting ominously between them. Their uneasiness was felt between each other, with the ambience tense as they exchanged worried glances, however, Hao's way of glancing was quite different, his Vibe Edge was his eyes. The sheer presence of the sword seemed to cast a darkness over the room, as though it were a living, breathing entity with a will of its own.

Mentos nervously drummed his fingers on the table, eyeing the sword with a mix of curiosity and fear. Clearing his throat, he looked at Hao and said, "So, have you taken a peek under the hood yet?"

Hao shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. "I tried, but this thing won't budge. It's like it is sealed shut or something." As he spoke, he recalled his earlier attempts to unsheathe the sword, each time met with an unyielding resistance that bordered on the supernatural.

"Let me have a go at it," suggested Mentos, wavering slightly.

"Are you sure?" Hao's concern for his friend was evident.

Mentos swallowed hard. "No pressure," he muttered, mostly to himself.

The suspense in the room climbed to its peak, meanwhile, Mentos reached out a trembling hand towards the sword, his fingers hovering mere inches from the weapon's dark, foreboding scabbard. His eyelids twitched, and sweat dripped down his face as though he were about to make contact with something far more dangerous than he could comprehend.

Hao, in the interim, was listening to Mentos's erratic heartbeat and tuning into the subtle vibrations in the air. He could sense the fear and anticipation radiating from his friend, and it only served to heighten his own apprehension.

Ba-dump¬Ba-dump!

The room appeared to hold its breath, time slowing to a crawl as Mentos's hand inched ever closer to the sword. Yet, just as his fingertips were about to brush against the scabbard, an intrusive presence caused him to hesitate, leaving the weapon untouched and the tension in the room unresolved.


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