Chapter Sixty-Six: The Expansion of the Conspiracy

A miscalculation.

Deep within the darkness-shrouded mine, Dick halted his steps, a bitter smile curling at his lips.

He had grown too complacent.

Though the eldest had long warned him that the opponent was a monster not to be underestimated, Dick, after spending time observing and interacting, had unwittingly relaxed his guard, treating him as an ordinary Glorious One. Not only did he neglect the emotional leverage he had carefully cultivated at the outset, but he also entertained thoughts he never should have, causing what could have been a favorable situation to decay in an instant.

He was suspected.

The moment Ulysses confronted him, Dick realized it. Yet, in that situation, he chose not to defend himself—because it was meaningless.

Trust between people is like a mirror; once the fragile balance of the heart is broken, cracks inevitably appear, and are nearly impossible to mend. Moreover, through their time together, Dick had come to understand the Glorious One’s character—perhaps not quite paranoid, but certainly cautious and meticulous. Trying to sway him with hastily fabricated lies was unrealistic and could only deepen suspicion, branding Dick as someone with ulterior motives.

That must be avoided.

To betray for profit is not surprising—such behavior is always cause for caution, but rarely inspires utter dread, for motives are clear and actions predictable. However, to harbor hidden malice is another matter; once detected, it triggers a cascade of reactions with unpredictable consequences, though one certainty remains: vigilance against him would reach its peak.

By then, it would be too late.

The Dice House’s apostle had considered a direct assault to eliminate Amy Ulysses, but the eldest’s warnings lingered in his mind, and he had sensed that the Glorious One possessed some degree of foresight. In moments of life and death, Ulysses always chose perfectly, with a calmness that could not be explained away by instinct or intuition alone—if it persisted, only an inexplicable ability could account for it.

To foresee the future—

Or perhaps not… Absolute luck could not be so easily dismissed.

After all, the bloodline of the Three Houses firmly placed the Glorious One at the top tier, and with the hidden machinations of those monsters lurking in the river of time, it was not surprising for Ulysses to possess abilities skirting the very boundary.

He was hard to kill.

Especially if he could see the future.

Such a flawless ability, unless restricted, would require the intervention of the chessboard’s players themselves; mere mortals like them had no chance of killing him. But Amy Ulysses was a Glorious One, not a Chosen One—he could not possess abilities beyond that boundary. Thus, even if the latent power in his blood was foresight, it must have limitations.

Only by discerning the limits or essence of his ability does the possibility of killing him arise.

This was no easy task.

The Dice House’s position was now suspect; approaching Ulysses as before for close observation was no longer feasible. After much thought, all Dick could do was…

Find him an enemy.

Yes…an enemy worthy of the name.

Since the upper district had been deliberately sealed, creating an adversary for this fellow was not simple—the combination of Glorious One and Swordbearer was formidable, and only a handful in the lower district could pose a challenge. Those few, however, were well aware of his background and not easily manipulated; even with plenty of leverage to incite action from the big players, Dick doubted they would risk antagonizing the Dice House or act against the Glorious One for mere profit.

In other words, the only one who could be of use was…that person.

Suddenly, a smile blossomed on the golden-haired youth’s face.

“Who would have thought things would circle back to this,” the Dice House’s apostle mused aloud in the darkness, “the eldest was right—everything is a matter of fate and coincidence.”

His emerald eyes gleamed with an unusual light.

Betting on both sides—

Everyone has their own principles, ingrained habits that are hard to change. Even the ever-cunning Dick was no exception: he habitually weighed gains and losses, never putting all his eggs in one basket, always maintaining the balance of interests.

This time was no different.

While approaching the Glorious One, he also lent a hand to his enemy.

And it was a particularly malicious enemy.

Yet, precisely because of this, at this moment the enemy could be used—possessing considerable strength, ignorant of Dick’s true nature, and crucially, for this person, acting against Ulysses required no provocation or justification; there was already deep-seated enmity.

All Dick needed to do was wait.

Still…to ensure absolute safety, it was best to see that person.

So thought the Dice House’s apostle—and then—

He stopped.

“Samantha.” The golden-haired, blue-eyed youth raised his head, staring at the chestnut-haired beauty standing directly before him, his expression growing colder. “Why are you here?”

“Of course, to check on my immature little brother.” The graceful, alluring woman lifted her cigarette holder, releasing a languid ring of smoke. “As expected, you messed things up again—should I say, you’re truly Dick, the boy who never grows up.”

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from,” Dick retorted, refusing to yield, “smoking lady.”

“Dick, I haven’t come here to argue with you pointlessly.” The woman, called Samantha, flipped her cigarette holder in her hand. “You should know how exceptional Amy Ulysses is. The last command was issued five years ago.”

The apostle of the Dice House remained silent.

As the founder of the largest intelligence organization in the lower district, the Seven Apostles served the highest will—she who styled herself as the Witch, who had been in a deep sleep for years. In the hundred years since she arrived in this city, she had awakened and issued commands only three times: thirty years ago to support Michelangelo’s ascension, five years ago to investigate Hemtica’s newborn, and recently…to kill Amy Ulysses.

“So, what are you planning?”

After a somewhat lengthy silence, the youth, aware of his own error, did not continue to oppose her. He merely shrugged in resignation and met her black eyes.

“Division of labor.” Samantha took a sip from her cigarette holder and answered.

“You mean…” The Dice House’s foremost apostle narrowed his eyes. “You plan to include him in your hunt?”

“Pretty boys are rare commodities.” The chestnut-haired beauty snapped her fingers, throwing the youth a lively wink. Her exquisite features lit up with a seductive smile as she spoke meaningfully, “I have no resistance to boys younger than me.”

“Is that so,” Dick replied expressionlessly, “then your hunting range is quite broad—the men of all Hemtica are on your menu.”

“But there’s one exception.” Samantha remained unfazed by the youth’s mockery, despite his eternally boyish face. “Thanks to you, Amy Ulysses is now more wary of us—in this situation, you no longer fit the role of ‘his companion.’”

“So?” Dick deliberately drew out the word.

“I’ll win his trust.” The mature, alluring woman suppressed her frivolity. “And you, perhaps, can represent the Dice House as his enemy.”

“No.” Dick rejected the idea flatly. “No need to make it that complicated.”

“Seems you have another plan. Why not share it?” Samantha raised an eyebrow. “To fulfill her will, even if the person needing help is you, it’s not out of the question.”

As unyielding as ever, Dick thought, then chuckled and shook his head. “It’s really not that complicated. You just need to get close to Ulysses in your own way, and as for creating a reasonable identity and a chance encounter free from suspicion, I hardly need to teach you.”

“You’re really underestimating me, Dick the eternal boy.” The slightly older woman licked her lips, her expression seductive. “Should I help you become a real man?”

“Don’t.” The Dice House’s first apostle straightened his expression. “I’m older than you.”

“But you don’t look it, do you?” she replied playfully. “I’m an honorary member of the Appearance Association.”

“Looks like choosing you to look after the eldest was a mistake,” Dick sighed. “Your baffling words make it impossible for you to fit into normal society now.”

“So I’m a quiet Sleeping Beauty,” the mature woman said indifferently. “Besides, don’t you think a decadent woman has a special charm?”

“No.” The youth answered with a blank face.

“Tch, you little brat with no taste.” Samantha spat, but didn’t care much. “But back to the point, what exactly is your plan?”

“Simple.” He paused. “Find Ulysses an enemy.”

“For example?” The question was lightly inflected.

“You’re not unfamiliar with the name Jack, are you?” The golden-haired youth lifted his chin, emerald eyes glinting with a mysterious light. “Yes, that famous Jack—he’s about to return.”