Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 634: Misunderstanding [2] (Refresh to clear errors!)

Four started toward the walkway, phone in hand, already crafting a polite smile and a delivery-man tone in his head. ”Alright, I’ll take the doorbell,” he said into the comm, voice low.

He didn’t get the chance.

Before his finger reached the bell, the door opened.

A boy stood there. A handsome teenager with striking green eyes, dark hair, and a bright, disarming smile that felt completely out of place.

The target.

Four froze. The description matched perfectly with the original. But the face... it looked younger.

Four hesitated. Something was wrong. If the imposter was so easy to notice why hadn’t the original relatives reported? Were they compromised? Threatened?

The thought barely formed when the teenager tilted his head, blinking in mild surprise. ”Oh?” he said, voice light and curious. ”I wasn’t expecting anyone outside. Who are you?”

The tone was friendly.

Four, with a smile on his face, was about to speak when suddenly, in an instant, his mind went blank.

It was as though someone had pressed a switch inside his skull. The world dimmed at the edges, thoughts dissolving into a soft, gray fog. The tension in his body vanished, and his eyes lost focus.

Jester’s pleasant smile didn’t waver as he stepped aside. ”You should come in,” he said gently.

Without hesitation, Four nodded and walked past him, his movements smooth but mechanical. The front door closed behind them with a soft click. Jester turned the lock.

Outside, the remaining four operatives froze.

”...Four?” One called quietly through the comm. No response.

Two’s breathing grew audible over the line. ”Did he mute his channel?”

”No,” Five said after a second. His tone was grim.

Static hummed faintly in their ears. None of them spoke for a long moment.

One clenched his jaw. ”Hold position,” he

The atmosphere around the house shifted.

Finally, the strongest among them, a tall man standing by the far lamp post, exhaled. ”I’m going next,” he said.

”One—wait—”

But he was already moving.

The strongest among them moved swiftly, cutting across the street with his coat fluttering behind him. His eyes locked onto the front door, and a faint metallic sheen flickered beneath his skin—a sign of mana-forged reinforcement. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake as Four.

The moment his boot touched the first step, the door opened again. Jester stood there, the same calm, bright smile on his face.

There was no warning. The knight lunged forward, fist coiled with raw aura, intent on knocking the boy unconscious before he could speak another word. The blow whistled through the air.

But before it landed, a blur moved between them.

Crack!

The sound of bone meeting reinforced flesh rang out. Four—expression empty, eyes dull—had intercepted the strike with his forearm. The impact sent a shockwave through the porch tiles, scattering dust and small stones.

”What the—Four?” the man snarled, his eyes widening. He staggered half a step back.

Four didn’t answer. Then, like a puppet on invisible strings, he straightened and drove his knee toward the man’s ribs.

The strongest operative barely blocked in time, his forearm numbing from the force. ”He’s controlled!” he shouted over the comm.

”Pull back!” One’s voice barked through the channel, but it came too late.

Jester’s smile widened just slightly as his eyes glowed faintly green.

The knight blinked once and suddenly everything went silent. His breathing slowed, his stance loosened, and the color drained from his face. The aura around him flickered, then vanished completely.

He turned, calm and expressionless, stepping aside like a loyal guard returning to post.

”...One?” Two whispered.

Nothing.

All three froze.

They already knew.

Without another word, the remaining three shot into the air above the estate, scattering to gain a wider view of the area.

From below, Jester squinted up at the sky. His green eyes shimmered faintly.

”Oh,” he murmured. ”They can fly.”

Jester glanced at the two motionless figures by the door—both knights now standing quietly like guards awaiting orders. The ground around them bore faint cracks from the earlier impact, small tendrils of dust still drifting in the air. The tiles had fractured beneath the force of the blocked punch.

He sighed softly. ”This place isn’t fit for a fight,” he muttered. His master would not be pleased if the neighborhood was damaged or the attention of the authorities was drawn.

He turned his gaze upward again. The three figures circling above glinted faintly in the sunlight, their auras barely restrained. They were scanning for him, cautious now, their movements sharp and defensive. He could sense the tension in their mana flow. They wouldn’t approach easily—not after seeing two of their comrades fall without a sound.

Still, if they forced a battle here, he might not be able to hold back without revealing too much. The risk wasn’t worth it.

Just as he made up his mind, the front door behind him creaked open.

”Jester?”

He turned. Lily stood there in her casual house clothes, hair a bit tousled, blinking in confusion. ”Who are those people by the door?” she asked, pointing toward the two motionless men beside the steps.

Jester’s expression softened instantly. He smiled, his tone calm and reassuring. ”Friends,” he said. ”They came by unexpectedly.”

Lily frowned slightly, her gaze lingering on the cracked tiles and faint dust. ”Friends?” she repeated, not fully convinced.

Jester stepped forward and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. ”Yes. Don’t worry about it. You should stay inside for now, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

There was a quiet confidence in his voice that made her stop questioning. She hesitated, then slowly nodded.

”Okay,” she said softly. ”Be careful.”

Jester’s smile lingered as he turned away.

Once she closed the door, the warmth vanished from his expression. He looked up at the sky again, green eyes faintly glowing.

”Let’s move this somewhere else,” he whispered, his voice low and cold.

With that, the air around him rippled—his form blurred, fading like smoke on the wind as he vanished from the doorstep.