Floating Islands: SSS Gacha Lord-Chapter 46 - The Wandering Magician

Milo, the wandering magician, shuffled his deck with a shaky smile, glancing at the crowd as he tried to steady his nerves.

"Uh... see, hehe... I can do some magic tricks," he said, voice cracking slightly.

With an uncertain flick of his wrist, a single card slid out from his palm. He tossed it into the air, then raised both hands. Suddenly, more cards fluttered out of nowhere, falling like confetti. He spun on the spot and opened his mouth, pulling out a long, colorful trail of cards that tumbled to the ground one by one.

The crowd murmured, watching.

Milo kept going, flinging his hands left and right, cards bursting into the air with every motion. It was smooth, flashy, and would’ve brought applause at a street performance.

But this wasn’t a street. And these weren’t tourists.

The soldiers’ expressions shifted, from curiosity to blank stares, then to frowns and arched brows.

"Hey, man, show us the real magic!" one called out.

"Yeah! Jump twenty feet! Summon a storm! Something cool!"

"Those are just parlor tricks! I could do that with enough practice."

"C’mon! Rank-S means real power, right?!"

The enthusiasm was quickly fading. A few began folding their arms, unimpressed.

Milo chuckled, sweating under the pressure. "Ah, hehe... no, wait. I’ve got something better."

He spread the cards again, tried to twirl them with flair, then hesitated. He reached up, scratched his head, and pulled out a small red flower from behind his ear. Grinning, he held it up proudly.

"Ta-da."

A pause.

"Come on, don’t joke around!"

"We need the real deal, not birthday party tricks!"

Atlas frowned slightly, watching the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and growing confusion. Something wasn’t adding up.

Without a word, he opened Milo’s status screen.

What exactly did we summon?

[Name: Milo Blackwood]

[Level: 62]

[Strength: 78 | Agility: 200 | Intelligence: 90 | Constitution: 120 | Stamina: 135]

[Job: Entertainer]

[Cautious Retreat (A) – Sleight of Hand (A) – Dual Facade (SS) – Card Shuffle Obsession (A) – Quiet Listener (B) – Timid Persuasion (B)]

[Cautious Retreat: When feeling threatened, there is a chance to evade attacks, slipping away with agility thanks to a natural instinct to avoid harm.]

[Sleight of Hand: Exceptional finesse with sleight-of-hand tricks—quick movements to hide small items or create distractions.]

[Dual Facade: When certain triggers occur, an alternate persona takes control.]

[Card Shuffle Obsession: A compulsive habit of shuffling cards to manage nerves.] frёewebnoѵēl.com

[Quiet Listener: Observes silently, often gaining valuable information in social settings through passive listening.]

[Timid Persuasion: A soft-spoken, disarming communication style that sometimes evokes protectiveness from others.]

Atlas stared at the screen, his frown deepening.

"What?! Is this some kind of mistake?"

Three Rank-A talents, a few Bs, and even more troubling, his stats were painfully low.

His level might have been decent, 62. But his total stat points were actually worse than Atlas’s. Worse!

And then there was that mysterious SS-rank talent: Dual Facade.

"An alternate persona takes control...?"

It was vague and offered no real clarity on what triggered it or what it even did. And with stat totals like this, no talent to boost combat or magic, nothing offensive, nothing defensive...

Atlas scrolled further and felt his heart sink just a little more.

[Job Class: Entertainer]

Not a fighter. Not a mage. Not a rogue. An Entertainer!

He rubbed his forehead, sighing as Milo tried another card trick, nervously flashing a shaky smile at the now-mumbling crowd.

This... is a Rank-S? What exactly did we summon?

"Hey, Milo... come on, stop joking around. Show us your power," one of the troops said, voice edged with frustration as a few began to rise, stepping forward.

"No! Wait... wait... I have another trick!" Milo stammered, hands raised in alarm, his deck clutched tightly. "Just give me another chance, hehe..."

Garen, leader of the Cinder Team, moved into the space with his towering frame and calm presence. "Hey, give him some space," he said. "Maybe he just needs a moment."

Kaida called out from her seat, arms crossed. "Hey, don’t be lame! Stop acting! You’re Rank-S, right? You should be at least as strong as Lyrassa!"

Garen reached out to give Milo a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but Milo jerked back instinctively, stumbling again, and fell off the edge of the platform for the second time.

"Sorry, man," Garen said, brows furrowed. "I didn’t mean to scare you. Here, let me help you up."

"No! No! Wait, I’m fine," Milo said quickly, waving one hand while clutching his cards in the other.

"It’s alright," Garen said gently, reaching down. "I’ll give you a hand."

"No!" Milo snapped, his tone suddenly sharp. A flicker of something dark shifted behind his eyes.

That’s when the air changed.

An unnatural stillness settled over the platform. Atlas felt it in his gut. Something wasn’t right.

Kurogasa appeared without a sound, standing beside Garen in an instant.

Karian stepped forward, greatsword sliding off his back with a metallic rasp, held at the ready.

"What’s going on, Kurogasa?" Atlas asked..

Even Lyrassa glided forward from the side, positioning herself close to Kurogasa, her face unusually tense.

Garen, still unaware, leaned forward. "Come on, man. Relax, it’s okay. We’re all friends here."

"Don’t come any closer! Don’t touch me!" Milo protested, his voice shaking.

"Man, I’m not going to hurt you," Garen said, holding out a hand again.

"No! Please, don’t touch me!" Milo shouted, this time loud enough to silence the crowd.

And then, Garen made contact, a simple, light pat on the shoulder.

Everyone froze. In an instant, the world seemed to shatter.

Time didn’t just slow, it stopped. Every breath caught, every heartbeat stuttered. A jolt of pressure slammed into every chest, like a hammer strike to the soul. And at its center, Milo.

A pulse of wild energy erupted from him.

"My Lord!" Kurogasa shouted, but it was too late.

The surge blasted outward. Vines snapped up from the ground around Milo, trying to contain him, but they shattered instantly under the sheer pressure. The shockwave exploded like a bomb, hurling everyone to the ground.

Suddenly, Morganna was in front of Atlas, taking the brunt of the impact. Her heels dug into the ground as she held her ground.

Karian rolled to his feet, greatsword already in hand. Kurogasa stood beside him, chain blade swinging low and ready.

Morganna hissed through clenched teeth, "Your absurd Gacha system... bringing us a problematic individual."

Atlas blinked. You’re literally one of them. No?

But there was no time to argue.

Another voice echoed. Milo’s, warped and trembling with fury.

"I said don’t touch me!"

Another wave of energy burst forth. It shook the platform, forced everyone to brace themselves.

And then they saw him.

Tendrils of shadow-like energy coiled around Milo, wrapping him like a living armor of smoke and rage. Karian stepped in front of several troops. Kurogasa shifted his stance, ready to strike.

Milo’s body was changing. Growing.

Muscles swelled grotesquely, twisting his frame. His shirt tore apart as the fabric couldn’t contain the sudden bulk. His eyes glowed, burning with something dangerous. The air warped around him.

"Who dared to touch me?!" he roared. "I’ll kill anyone who lays a hand on me!"

"What is that?!" Atlas thought.

Milo had transformed into something inhuman. A vessel of darkness. His body radiated pure aggression. Another shockwave tore out from him, and even Garen, who had been right beside him moments ago, staggered back.

"Do I need to kill him?" Morganna asked coldly, her scythe forming in her hand.

Atlas stepped forward. "No. Wait."

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