I Became the Tyrant of a Defense Game

Chapter 856

Side Story 31. [After Story] Gambler’s Club

[Participant Interview #3]

— Date: Imperial Year 667

— Location: Everblack Empire, Crossroad

— Interviewer: Jupiter Junior

— Interviewees: Five members of the Gambler’s Club

Crossroad, North Gate

“Hmm?”

“Huh?”

Junior and Violet, who had just arrived and stepped out of their respective carriages, spotted each other. Violet was the first to brighten up.

“Wow, Junior! How long has it been?”

“Violet! How have you been?”

As the two exchanged cheerful greetings, their companions poured out of the carriages behind them.

“Hey, Violet, who are you—whoa! It’s Juju!”

“It’s really her! Wow, Junior, you seriously don’t age. You look exactly the same every time I see you.”

“That’s because she doesn’t date men. No stress, no aging~”

“Oh, so that’s why Aunt Orange and Sister Scarlet look so—hey, hey, stop pulling my ears!”

One by one, Lime, Orange, Scarlet, and Cobalt greeted Junior. Seeing the entire Gambler’s Club together after such a long time, Junior beamed and waved.

“It’s been a while! You all look great!”

“Not as much as you, Juju. Damn, you really landed yourself in the right place. Closest aide to the Crown Prince and all.”

“Ahem! Soon, it won’t be the Crown Prince anymore but His Majesty Emperor!”

The news of Ash’s imminent ascension had already spread quietly across the continent.

Since the Jupiter Foundation had been personally nurtured by Ash, it was now a direct institution under the next emperor.

But Junior couldn’t bring herself to laugh freely at that.

“He’s been overworking me before, now, and forever…”

“Pfft…”

Ash was a boss who made sure his subordinates were well compensated, but he also worked them to the bone.

Violet’s face paled as she recalled the days of the Monster Frontline. Junior, holding back laughter, chuckled.

“I heard you were on a continental tour. What brings you to Crossroad?”

“Oh, we’re stationed here all month. It’s the autumn festival season, you know? The lord asked us to help draw in some guests~”

For the festival, Evangeline had paid a hefty sum to invite the Gambler’s Club.

“We don’t usually accept invitations just because someone asks, but how could we ignore old ties? We gave her a discount!”

As Violet boasted, her eyes suddenly widened. From Junior’s carriage, an elderly man was being helped down.

“Huh? No way, Chain! It’s been forever! But wow, you really aged!”

She playfully teased him, but Chain didn’t even glance her way. His clouded eyes simply stared blankly ahead as he struggled to step down.

“Huh? What’s up with him?”

“Well…”

Junior began explaining the situation to the curious members of the Gambler’s Club.

They were all shocked, and Violet couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Dementia?! Chain?! Seriously?!”

As Chain’s wife and grandson looked at her, Violet broke into a cold sweat.

“Ah, I’m so sorry. That was rude… It’s just, I can’t believe it…”

Chain was silently gazing up at Crossroad’s North Gate.

The city walls he once defended were nothing like they had been 15 years ago.

The cannons, gunpowder, soldiers, and weapons that had once lined the ramparts were now replaced by flowers and festival banners.

“…”

It was as if he had arrived in a foreign land. Chain quietly stared at the unfamiliar scene.

Violet watched him in silence.

The Blacklist, the outlaw gambler’s party.

The Gambler’s Club, the traveling performers.

During the war against the monsters, Ash had built an extravagant casino just to lure in ten heroes.

And now, after all this time, the two parted groups met again, having changed in countless ways.

“…Alright!”

Violet clapped her hands together and turned to the rest of the Gambler’s Club.

“For tonight’s rehearsal performance, let’s put on a special show!”

She pulled a sheet of paper from her coat, scribbled something quickly, and handed it to Junior.

“What’s this?”

Junior took the paper, puzzled.

Violet grinned.

“We’re rehearsing at the theater tonight. You should all come watch! It’ll be fun!”

She then raised a hand and pointed at Chain.

“And make sure to bring that old man too!”

The city had changed a lot.

Chain had visited Crossroad a few times after the war, but his frail body and the weight of lost comrades made each visit more painful. It had been over ten years since his last trip.

Now, Crossroad had transformed into a full-fledged tourist city, a completely different place from before. It was vibrant, bustling with people, and filled with energy.

“…”

But some roads remained familiar.

The main street leading from the central plaza to Hotel Crossroad.

Back when he and his friends used to race to the casino, this was the path they always took.

Following the familiar road, Chain’s gaze landed on a newly built structure near the central plaza.

[Crossroad City Theater].

As he limped inside, another old comrade greeted him.

“Chain!”

It was Dearmudin, who had been staying at the Ivory Tower’s Crossroad branch.

The old mage peered into the wrinkled face of his once-vigorous comrade and let out a chuckle.

“You’re much younger than me, but look at you now.”

“…”

“You’re not supposed to be like this yet. Not yet…”

Evangeline, the lord of Crossroad, followed behind them with a broad smile, extending her hand toward the inside of the theater.

“Come on in, veterans! You can catch up inside. The esteemed troupe we paid so much to bring here is about to show you their rehearsal! This is a rare opportunity, you know?”

Dearmudin, Chain, and Chain’s family entered first. Exchanging a brief look and a nod, Evangeline and Junior followed behind them.

On the wide theater stage, the Gambler’s Club was preparing for their rehearsal. The actual performances wouldn’t begin for a few more days, but they were pushing themselves to rehearse today, the very day they arrived in Crossroad, for one reason.

Chain.

To gift an old comrade a memorable evening.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen who have come from afar!”

Violet, who had been strumming her guitar on stage, sprang up from her seat and greeted them with a dramatic flourish. The rest of the Gambler’s Club followed, grinning mischievously as they bowed.

“Tonight, the Gambler’s Club has prepared a very special performance!”

With the help of his wife and grandson, Chain was seated in the front row, in the best seat in the house.

The five members of the Gambler’s Club stretched their hands toward him in unison.

“For the one and only black magician of the Monster Frontline, the Black Giant, Chain—this performance is just for you!”

The few other attendees, all old comrades, erupted into cheers and applause.

“…”

Chain’s gaze remained distant and unfocused, but that didn’t deter the Gambler’s Club. The performance began.

Scarlet performed magic tricks.

Cobalt put on a puppet show.

Violet sang and narrated stories.

Lime and Orange played instruments and assisted with various effects.

Each member of the Gambler’s Club had their own role, and to warm up the stage, Scarlet stepped forward first, holding a deck of cards for the first time in a long while.

“Alright, Chain! Pick a card from these!”

She spread out a set of face-down cards. Chain slowly reached out and picked one. Then another. And another.

One by one, the cards formed a straight flush—an impossible hand.

As if by magic, perfect hands continued to appear, bursting like fireworks over the audience.

For a long moment, Chain simply stared at the spectacle.

If his old comrades were still alive, would they have laughed and scrambled to grab those dazzling cards?

No one could know now.

Next came the play.

As Cobalt moved the puppets, Violet sang a lively tune.

Normally, the Gambler’s Club performed a heroic tale of Violet the pickpocket, who, through a mix of truth and exaggeration (which they claimed was a 7-to-3 ratio), became a hero who saved the world.

But tonight’s protagonist had changed.

Tonight’s story was about Chain—a black magician gambler who, alongside his comrades, saved the world.

A tale full of embellishments, yet containing an undeniable sliver of truth.

As they watched, Chain’s wife and grandson held his hands tightly on either side.

“…”

Chain’s expression remained unreadable as he gazed at the stage.

Others might not have noticed, but his wife and grandson did.

Whenever the names of his old comrades were spoken—whenever Buckler, Idiot, Candler, and Nobody appeared in the story, fighting side by side, cracking jokes, calling out ridiculous lines…

A faint smile would form at the corners of Chain’s lips.

“…”

His grandson lowered his head, resting his forehead against his grandfather’s shoulder.

The small, fleeting special performance was coming to an end.

With the rehearsal and tribute performance concluded, the old comrades took turns saying their farewells.

Junior and the Gambler’s Club set a later time for their interview.

Then, as they received parting waves from the others, Junior, Chain, Chain’s wife, and his grandson began walking west.

Toward the graveyard outside Crossroad’s western gate.

“Wow…”

Junior murmured in awe as they arrived.

This place had changed as well. The paths were now neatly paved with stone, and behind the two large memorial monuments, a massive building was under construction.

A war memorial.

A place meant to teach people why those buried here had fought, why they had died.

Junior and the Jupiter Foundation would later fill it with history and stories.

Seated in a wheelchair provided by Crossroad, Chain was pushed along the stone path leading up the hill. His grandson, straining, pushed with all his might.

The path was lined with endless gravestones, each bearing the name of a fallen comrade from that era.

“…”

First, they arrived at Jupiter’s grave.

Junior placed the bouquet she had brought before her mother’s headstone.

She gently brushed off the well-maintained stone with her hand and smiled softly.

Not far from there lay the graves of the Blacklist members.

The wheelchair came to a halt.

Instead of Chain, his wife stepped forward and placed flowers before each tombstone.

For the first time in a long while, Chain’s clouded eyes focused.

He looked straight at the graves of his comrades.

The old casino coins he had once placed there long ago remained, tarnished with time, resting atop each headstone.

The autumn wind whispered through the air.

Whoooosh…

The old man’s silver hair was tousled, and his grandson carefully reached up to smooth it back down.

Then, suddenly—

“I…”

Chain spoke.

“Do you think I’ll be able to… be buried here?”

Junior smiled.

“Not for a long time. Not now, but a long, long time from now.”

On either side, his wife and grandson held his hands.

Standing behind his wheelchair, Junior gently gripped his shoulder.

“Live a long, happy life first. Only after that… way, your friends who went ahead can truly smile when they see you again.”

Chain’s gaze, which had been fixed intently on the graves, slowly lowered.

His wife and grandson gently wiped the quiet tears from his face.

Watching them, Junior slowly turned back toward Crossroad.

The city above the graves.

The city, protected through countless deaths and sacrifices, was now glowing brilliantly under the evening lights.

As if determined to shine as brightly as possible, so that the sacrifices of those who had gone before would not be in vain.

Soon, once again—it would be festival time.