I Have 10,000 SSS Rank Villains In My System Space

Chapter 157: Next Plans

Next day

Razeal awoke with a groan, the remnants of a deep, exhausted slumber clinging to his body. Stretching his arms above his head, he straightened his back and took in the morning air. From his perch, nestled high in the branches of an unassuming tree in a remote jungle, the world felt strangely quiet. The sleep had been long and dreamless, and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had stood still.

His body still felt the toll of the previous day’s events the constant strain, the battle, and the aftermath. Everything had felt off, a lingering heaviness that he could only describe as disorienting. It took no more than a few seconds of stretching before he realized somethingbhe felt strange, different and weird to him.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed. ”Bloodline essence,” he muttered under his breath, slowly getting used to the strange feeling. He hadn’t anticipated the change it would bring, but it was clear now that something inside him had dissapeared. Something fundamental. His body was adjusting, but still this weird uncomfortable sensation was unsettling, as if parts of him were still missing.

”System, what time is it?” Razeal asked, trying to shake off the lingering exhaustion.

[8 AM, Host. You’ve been asleep for 17 hours straight.]

Razeal blinked in surprise, almost gasping in disbelief. ”Seventeen hours? Already?” He quickly stood up, taking one last glance at the spot he’d been lying on. The urgency struck him instantly.. there was no time to waste. So much to do.

[Host, I don’t mean to slow you down, but please calm down, wear some clothes. Also, don’t forget to check your hair and do take care of your severed arm. It’s looking... funny.]

”Hah? Hair? What about my hair?” The system had told him three things, but the only one that registered in Razeal’s mind was ”hair.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he froze mid-step. In the blink of an eye, he reached into his shadow storage and pulled out a small mirror.

The moment Razeal caught sight of his reflection, his expression soured. His eyes widened, and a frustrated grimace twisted his face. He knew his hair had been cut, but this... this was a disaster. Fuck! His hair was cropped short, but it was the worst style he could imagine. It was like someone had just hacked at it carelessly. He almost wanted to cry. The lengths were uneven, leaving him with a look he’d rather forget.

But that wasn’t all. His hair... had turned completely white.

Pure, glaring white. Not the sort of white that made him look old or sickly, but a heavy, striking shade that looked almost unnaturally healthy definitely not like the hairs of someone who is old but just different majestic white. The white strands, full of life, made his whole appearance seem... different. A new identity, one that didn’t quite fit.

”System... is this because I don’t have Virelan’s bloodline anymore?” RazealRazeal asked, sighing. Even though he didn’t care much about his hair color, he still felt a bit weirded out.

[Yes, Host. The Virelan bloodline had a direct effect on your appearance, including the color of your hair. Now that the bloodline is no longer a part of you, your hair has reverted to a neutral, natural state. The purple was an external manifestation of the bloodline’s influence.]

Razeal let out a long sigh, dropping the mirror to his side. ”Whatever,” he muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling the change in appearance had caused. ”Not like it matters anyway.”

He just shook his head, not wanting to care about this. He didn’t want to react. Honestly, he had always hated his hair color after that incident with his family and used to wonder if he would look better without it. He used to think that if he ever changed his hair color permanently, he would be happy. But now... he just didn’t show any emotion. It felt bland. Like, yeah, it’s weird how you think doing something will make you happy, but when it actually happens, you just feel a strange mix of trying to be happy but not really wanting to.

Maybe, well, a little part of him did care, but he tried to reject that. The small attachment he had was finally gone.

But then again, he wasn’t wrong. Sometimes leaving something behind can be hard, but it’s needed for your growth. So there was no regret in what he did. Even if he knew his hair would end up like this, he would still do it again without hesitation.

Waking up from his thoughts, Razeal let out a long sigh and shook his head, clearing the haze lingering inside him. With a flick of his hand, he drew out fresh clothes through the system’s providing function. A black and white tuxedo materialized expensive in design, crisp and dignified, the kind nobles would wear to banquets.

He slipped into it quietly, straightening each piece with care. But when his gaze dropped to his right sleeve, the sight twisted his lips into a faint scowl. The arm hung limply, dead weight below the elbow where nothing remained. It looked little weird. He folded the sleeve neatly up to his joint, concealing the deformity. At least this way it wouldn’t dangle.

Next came the shoes polished, gleaming, expensive-looking. By the time he was done, Razeal looked like a man ready to step into a hall of royalty.

The silence in his mind broke as the system’s voice chimed in.

[So what is our plan now, host? What are we going to do next? I can see you already have something in mind.]

Razeal adjusted his collar, his expression unreadable. ”We’re leaving this empire.” His tone was casual, almost light, but beneath it there was no doubt. The decision was final.

He reached into storage again, pulling out the black robe he had first worn when he deceived Levy into becoming his employee. Draping it over his shoulders, the garment cascaded down his frame, covering him completely from head to toe. A shadow of his former self.

[Huhh? Really?? That I didn’t expect. Leaving where?] the system asked, genuine surprise in its tone.

Razeal’s lips curved faintly, his eyes narrowing. ”To Atlantis.” His voice carried no hesitation, only certainty.

The system stilled for a moment before answering. [Atlantis...? The underwater empire? But why there? I mean, I can understand wanting to leave this empire, it makes sense but Atlantis? it isn’t safe either. If you ask me, that place is even more dangerous than staying here. The ocean isn’t good place to visit..]

”Yeah, I know,” Razeal replied, voice steady, eyes narrowed in thought. ”Before I awakened the system’s functions and gained skills, my plan was to run somewhere safe, stay quiet, live. But now? Survival alone isn’t enough. We need a place atleast where I can actually grow stronger too, not just hide. And right now, the best place for that... is there.”

He stopped and glanced at the translucent blue panel floating before him, his mana stats glowing in faint light.

[Mana / MP: 99,000]

The sight of it made his lips twitch with frustration.

”It was billions yesterday,” he muttered under his breath, irritation seeping through every word. ”and now it’s nearly empty. It disappears like water in sand. You know as well as I do, viley, there’s no natural dark mana in this cursed world for me. I can’t just passively absorb mana like everyone else in the world. The only way to refill is with monster cores.”

”So yeah. I can’t afford to keep scraping the bottom of my mana reserves, constantly desperate for cores, begging for scraps. I need a steady, overflowing source. And where do you think that is? Underwater. Seventy-three percent of the landmass is covered by the ocean. Most portals open beneath the waves. And the monster cleaning there? Far less controlled than it is here on land. That means more monsters. More cores. More fuel.”

The system hummed quietly, then tried again.

[But your business was going well, host. Why abandon that? If you kept expanding it, you could’ve made it into something bigger, stable, profitable...]

”You’re stupid.” Razeal cut him off with a cold laugh. ”Do you think the business world wouldn’t bring me trouble? You think there’s a market where I could sit and get monster cores like some merchant?And There isn’t even a real market for monster cores. Anyways world already hates me. And I’m not about to open some shop and sell trinkets like a merchant. I am not born for that.

It worked with Levy because those were small trades. But in large deals? Trouble comes knocking.

The system sighed.

[Alright... I mean, you’re the host. Do whatever you want. I’ll always tag along, no matter how reckless you are. But... do you already have a destination in mind?]

”Yes.” Razeal’s voice was sharper this time, his eyes narrowing with a faint, dangerous light. ”Ocean Black. That’s where we’re going. I remember reading about that area in the novel.”

The system went silent for a moment before replying, hesitation thick in its voice.

[Ocean Black...? That place is fucked up crazy. Even with your strength now, you might...]

The system stopped mid-sentence, almost unwilling to finish the thought.

Razeal smirked faintly at its silence. ”Yeah. I might.” His gaze hardened, and his voice lowered into something cold and certain. ”But that’s exactly why I’m going.”

Razeal shook his head, brushing away his earlier thoughts, and quickened his pace.

”Anyways lets see how it goes,” he muttered to himself. His steps became sharper, more focused.

The system stayed silent this time, not asking to question further.

Razeal sighed internally. I should speed up. Two days.. that was all the time Merisa and Celestia’s bargain had given him. Two days to vanish from the empire without a trace. Two days..

His missing arm made every movement feel strange, heavier. The limp sleeve of his robe swayed awkwardly as he walked, a constant reminder of what he had lost. Feels weird as fuck walking around like this... but fixing it now? No time. And Zara? Just the thought of her name made him feel exaustated already. That insane bitch would take forever and that’s if she even agreed to help. More likely, she’d torture me again for the fun of it.

For now, survival mattered more. The arm could wait.

----

Five minutes later.

Razeal’s brow furrowed as he turned a corner into the market district. The streets should have been bustling with ordinary trade vendors shouting, buyers bargaining but instead, he saw a large crowd gathered up ahead. People were packed shoulder to shoulder, murmuring, craning their necks to get a better view of something at the center.

Curiosity tugged at him, and with an irritated sigh, he forced his way through.

Most people gave him annoyed looks as he cut through, his black robe and ghostly mask already suspicious, but no one dared to speak. They could feel the weight of his presence, the strength behind his casual shoves. Displeasure flickered in their eyes, but not a single protest left their mouths.

Finally, breaking through the last layer of onlookers, he reached the front.

And there he saw it.. Levy’s shop.

At the head of it all stood a young noble dark brown hair neatly combed, his expression filled with casual arrogance as he tapped his foot impatiently on the stone ground. His arms were crossed, his gaze sharp. Behind and around him, a formation of armored knights stood in neat rows, their armor gleaming with discipline, the crest on their chests leaving no room for doubt.

The Stone family. One of the Ten Pillar Houses.

The boy himself looked no older than seventeen, maybe eighteen. His tailored noble attire bore the Stone family crest embroidered proudly on the chest, the same emblem repeated on the tabards and shields of the knights surrounding him.

Razeal’s eyes narrowed. What the hell is going on here?

Before he could dwell on it, the door to Levy’s shop was violently kicked open from the inside. Wood splintered, and out came a knight dragging Levy by the collar, half choking the poor merchant as he shoved him forward until he stood before the noble boy.

”Young Lord, this is the man,” the knight announced, his voice sharp, as he shoved Levy hard enough to nearly make him stumble almost fell face to ground.

Levy scowled as he straightened, adjusting his crooked glasses with visible annoyance. The expression on his face was sour and irritation flickering behind his eyes. But seeing the noble standing before him, and more importantly, recognizing the crest of the Stone family, Levy immediately sighed internally going into his acting mode.

”Ohhh... you’re that arrow seller?” The noble boy’s brow arched as he regarded him, tone carrying no respect, only mild curiosity.

”Yes, yes, sir,” Levy replied quickly, forcing a faint smile. His eyes flashed behind the lenses of his glasses as he carefully fixed his collar, trying to present himself. He clearly recognized the boy’s bloodline features, those sharp brown eyes and hair, the unmistakable sign of his lineage.

But the boy remained unimpressed, keeping his arms crossed.

”I heard,” the young Stone said, his voice flat but edged with irritation, ”that you stopped selling your arrows. That today, you’re refusing to provide them. What’s the meaning of that?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the kind of glare that nobles used when they felt someone beneath them had overstepped.

Levy’s throat bobbed as he coughed into his hand, stalling for time. ”I... well... I apologize for that, Young Lord. Truly. The matter is... complicated. There are reasons.. let me explain” He fumbled for words, carefully weighing what excuse might satisfy a spoiled noble.

But then his eyes shifted. Just for a second, while searching for words, his gaze flicked toward the crowd.

And froze.

There, standing silently in the sea of people, cloaked in black and hidden behind a ghostly mask, was a figure he knew all too well. That Scammer

Their eyes met. Levy’s words paused, his voice halting mid-sentence

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