Chapter 49 Data Update

Robin placed his hand upon the transcendent rifle brought by Damien.

The rifle looked somewhat rustic; its barrel was crafted from an unknown beast bone, and the stock retained a certain textural quality of fur, worlds apart from standard technological manufacturing.

"Hey you little punk, your granddaddy here goes by the moniker Scar-Faced Ah-Hong! Back in the day, I blew up an airship with a single explosive round and carved a bloody path through the entire battlefield alongside my master. What's your combat record?"

As soon as Robin's hand touched it, the weapon spoke up.

"Oh, Lord of Machines above! You might be impressive, but your mana consumption is through the roof!"

Before long, the two firearms began squabbling quite spiritedly.

The transcendent rifle looked down on the steam rifle for its inability to accommodate certain specialized ammunition, while the steam rifle despised the transcendent rifle's high mana cost.

To use cars as an analogy: the steam rifle had low fuel consumption and strong endurance, whereas the transcendent rifle possessed ample horsepower—making it the Hellcat among rifles...

Each had its own strengths and weaknesses.

"Well, what's your weapon of choice?" Damien's gaze fell upon Robin.

"I imagine that you coming here in person to deliver this gun and ammunition isn't just to play errand boy, is it?" Robin gently stroked the two firearms, much like a student caressing the belle of his class, terrified that a fraction too much pressure might cause her pain. "Do you have any suggestions for tomorrow's battle? This is my first duel."

Damien cast an approving glance at Robin.

Many talented individuals were deeply arrogant, especially within their respective professional fields.

That trait tended to render them deaf to the opinions of others, leaving them reliant solely on their own judgment.

"Ha! Since you've asked so sincerely, I might as well enlighten you." Damien seated himself on a stool. Seeing this, Robin hurriedly poured him a cup of hot water.

His tent was a standard military shelter; having a stool and a mirror was already a luxury, while tea and coffee were entirely out of the question.

"I believe that on a regular battlefield, in terms of kills and bravery, ten Vincents wouldn't equal you. But when it comes to a duel, you are merely a novice." Damien extracted a dossier on Vincent from his coat and placed it on the table. "This information is for reference only. The transcendent equipment he usually wears might not be used tomorrow; he is certain to select the most suitable configuration."

Robin began earnestly flipping through Vincent's file, compiled and recorded by Damien. It appeared that the officer had begun preparations even while the Grand Duke was still planning Robin's rescue.

After all, news of the duel had already spread far and wide. As long as Robin emerged alive, this clash was inevitable.

Win or lose, the outcome would serve the Grand Duke's interests.

Moments later, the system updated its profile on Vincent.

[Vincent Rivendell]

[Gender: Male]

[Age: 28]

[Strength: C-]

[Endurance: D]

[Agility: C+]

[Spirit: D+]

[Mana: D]

[Transcendent Trait: Leg Enhancement]

[The third son of Border Marquis Sid Rivendell. Lacking paternal affection since childhood, which resulted in a cruel disposition and a penchant for slaughter. He deeply respects heroes and desires to become one in order to win his father's approval.]

[Possesses formidable leg techniques and has never neglected his physical training. However, due to excessive indulgence in hedonism, his endurance is remarkably low. Coming from a wealthy background, he is capable of wielding powerful transcendent weaponry. Proficient in close-quarters combat, deficient in ranged engagement. Overly reliant on physical enhancement and transcendent power, with a low dependency on modern firearms.]

[Extremely reliant on the kneepiece protecting his right knee—it is his favorite piece of transcendent equipment and will not be swapped out. Its coverage is limited, leaving his left leg unprotected.]

[Weakness Analysis: Brainless, craves undeserved success, and loves to loudly boast of his exploits to draw his father's attention. Incapable of enduring his father's disappointed gaze. Intolerant of negative public opinion. Terrified of causing too much trouble for his father, yet equally terrified that if he fails to make a stir, his father will forget him entirely.]

[Poor marksmanship; his scores on stationary targets have always been mediocre, and shooting at moving targets is entirely up to fate. Once within a ten-meter radius, his sole focus shifts to closing the distance and slaughtering his opponent with his legs, abandoning the use of firearms entirely.]

[Heavy protection over his most vital male assets; any belt he selects will prioritize shielding that region. The area between one and three inches below his navel is an undefended zone.]

[Dislikes wearing ugly helmets or masks; when choosing transcendent headgear, he invariably opts for stylish hats or eyewear.]

Robin fell into deep thought.

His left leg, along with the zone one to three inches below his navel, were both vulnerabilities. In the parlance of martial arts novels, this was his fatal acupoint.

As for abandoning firearms within ten meters, that was simply a matter of combat habit.

Although Robin's equipment had been upgraded and he was now aware of Vincent's weaknesses, his confidence remained somewhat tempered.

For no other reason than the fact that the disparity in their stats was simply too vast.

C+ agility represented the theoretical ceiling, while Damien and Wade transcended even those boundaries.

"What are your recommendations?" Robin laid down the dossier.

"Use both guns." Damien picked up the water Robin had poured for him and took a gentle sip. "His speed is too great. You've only just stepped into the ranks of the transcendent and are entering battle without formal training. That is your weakness."

"The purpose of utilizing a transcendent weapon is not to kill him, but to restrict his movement!"

"He will certainly refuse to fight you at a distance; he will resort to every possible means to close in on you—a marksman. The path he takes as he charges toward you will be your window of opportunity."

...

News of the duel between Robin and Vincent made its way into thousands of households across Volcisini via the morning papers at the crack of dawn.

Marquis Sid and Grand Duke Benito had uncharacteristically refrained from clashing in the news.

Back at the café where Robin had previously sought refuge, the assassin had enjoyed a sound sleep.

Heaven be witness, this was the most peaceful slumber the assassin had experienced in ages; it had been a very long time since he had slept so well.

He rose from his bed, customarily checking the machinery first, and then going to check on Robin...

"Where is Robin?"

The assassin stared at Robin's room in utter bewilderment.

The door was smashed, there were bullet holes in the corridor, and Robin was nowhere to be found...

For a fleeting second, the assassin felt as though the sky had collapsed.

"Boss, newspaper!~~"

At that very moment, a blond youth descended from above into the basement, clutching a stack of newspapers.

"Newspaper? You look like a newspaper!" The assassin glared fiercely at the blond youth. He was a staff member of the safehouse, strictly non-combatant, merely responsible for looking after the place.

The blond youth jumped in fright, utterly baffled as to why his boss was flying into a rage.

"Last night, someone infiltrated the café, and what were you lot up upstairs doing? How did you fail to notice a single thing?" The assassin marched up to the youth in a rage, grabbing him by the collar with a look in his eyes as though he intended to murder him right then and there.

The assassin figured his career was likely over.

Having gone to provide backup yesterday, he had been knocked unconscious without even realizing it, only to be brought up by the very person he was supposed to rescue.

After finally managing to bring the target safely to the safehouse, the person was now gone while he himself remained completely unharmed...

He might as well have someone put a bullet through his head while he was asleep!