Ultimate Spin System: Ero Spin?-Chapter 143: Trick. Need a Symbol

One of the returning elves stepped forward—a tall, scarred woman with braided silver hair and fire in her eyes. Her gaze locked on the fallen captain’s corpse, and her jaw tensed.

"Captain Drovek," she spat. "Bastard killed my brother."

She kicked the body once, hard, then turned to Lucas and Sylmara. "You have my thanks. And more than that—our blades."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Appreciated. But we’re not done yet."

Sylmara nodded. "This facility—it’s just one part of the chain. We need intel. Names. Routes. Buyers."

The scarred elf woman glanced down the corridor, then back. "There’s an office at the far end. Drovek kept his ledgers there. If he was involved in trafficking, the records will be there too."

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. "Great. More sneaking around. Maybe I should’ve picked a quieter vacation."

The slime jiggled. "Vacation is fun! Lots of punching!"

Sylmara let a rare smile crack through. "Let’s move. Before reinforcements arrive."

They pushed forward as a group now—Lucas, Sylmara, the rogue slime, and half a dozen battle-worn elves who had nothing left to lose.

The office wasn’t even locked. Typical arrogance.

Inside, the walls were lined with bookshelves, maps pinned to cork boards, and a desk cluttered with papers, contracts, and jars filled with... things Lucas didn’t want to look at too closely.

Sylmara immediately went for the drawer—finding a sealed scroll marked with the royal sigil of Envalion.

Lucas picked up a ledger, flipping through it. Names. Dates. Transactions. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Some crossed out in red ink. Some underlined.

He handed it to the scarred elf. "Think your people can use this?"

She scanned it quickly, her face darkening. "With this? We’ll burn the entire network to the ground."

Then the wall shook.

BOOM.

Dust fell from the ceiling. Another explosion.

Sylmara’s eyes snapped to the door. "That came from the east tower."

Mbaku’s voice crackled through the crystal again, frantic this time. "Lucas! They’ve triggered the self-destruct enchantment! The whole place is going to collapse!"

Lucas cursed under his breath. "Of course they did."

He looked to Sylmara. "Can you get the prisoners out?"

She nodded. "I’ll lead them. But what about you?"

He grabbed a map from the desk, quickly scanning it. "There’s a sealed chamber marked under the prison wing—something called ’the vault.’ If they’re wiping this place, there’s a reason. I want to know what they’re hiding."

Sylmara hesitated—but only for a moment. "Fine. Don’t die."

Lucas flashed a crooked grin. "I’ll try to keep it casual."

Then he ran.

Through crumbling halls and falling stone, the slime clinging tightly to his shoulder, Lucas made his way back toward the lower levels. Fire licked the edges of the corridor. Magic sigils flared on the walls, detonating traps behind him.

He reached the vault door—a massive slab of stone inscribed with ancient runes. It pulsed faintly, as if resisting him.

Lucas placed a hand on it.

The warmth in his core flared again—responding.

The runes dimmed. The door cracked open.

Inside was darkness.

And a whisper.

A voice—not heard, but felt.

> So... you finally came.

Lucas froze. "What the hell—?"

The chamber lit up in pale blue light. A pedestal stood in the center, and on it... a mirror. Cracked. Ancient. Its surface rippled like water.

In it, Lucas saw his reflection.

But it smiled before he did.

> Let’s finish what we started.

The slime whispered nervously. "Boss... not normal mirror..."

Lucas swallowed, stepping closer.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I figured."

Then the mirror pulled him in.

And the world went white.

The world twisted.

Colors bled into one another—sky into stone, light into shadow. Lucas’s feet hit solid ground, but it felt wrong—like he was standing on the edge of a dream trying to decide whether to be a nightmare.

The mirror behind him shimmered, then vanished.

He was alone.

Except... 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Not.

Across from him stood another him.

Same face. Same clothes. Same tired sarcasm barely hiding the weight of everything he’d seen.

But the eyes were different. Cold. Sharp. And burning with an ancient hunger.

Lucas took a step back, instincts screaming.

The other Lucas tilted his head, grinning.

> "Finally. Took you long enough, lazy bastard."

Lucas frowned. "Okay, spooky mirror double. Let me guess—you’re the evil version of me? Gonna monologue about how I’m weak and pathetic?"

> "Pfft. No." The double rolled his eyes. "You are weak and pathetic. But this isn’t a villain speech. This is a job offer."

Lucas blinked. "I’m sorry. What?"

The mirror version stepped forward, hands behind his back. "You’ve been feeling it, right? The power. The instincts. The rhythm of battle like it’s been choreographed just for you."

Lucas said nothing.

> "That’s because it has." He smiled, sharp and knowing. "You were chosen—by me. I left a piece of myself in that spa. In the slime. In you."

Lucas’s jaw clenched. "So what? You’re the reason I’ve been feeling stronger?"

> "Stronger?" Mirror Lucas laughed. "Kid, you’ve been playing on easy mode. You haven’t unlocked even a tenth of what you can do."

He raised a hand—and with a flick, the space around them morphed. Now they stood in a battlefield. Countless enemies. A burning sky. Lucas was surrounded.

> "This? This is what’s coming. Not bandits. Not slavers. But gods. Old ones. Hungry ones. And if you’re not ready—we die."

Lucas looked around, breath catching.

The mirror walked past him. "So here’s the deal, Lucas. Merge with me. Accept what you are. No more limits. No more hesitation. You’ll get the reflexes, the knowledge, the power... all of it."

Lucas hesitated. "...And the cost?"

The mirror smiled faintly. "You’ll remember. Everything. Who you were. What you gave up. Why the gods cursed you in the first place."

Lucas’s heart skipped. "I’ve... been cursed?"

The mirror’s eyes glinted. "You were one of them once. And they want you back."

Silence stretched.

Lucas looked down at his hands. At the faint hum under his skin. The strange warmth. The way the world had started bending around him.

And he remembered the elf girl’s trembling hands. The lives saved. The blade cracking armor. The feeling of fighting not just for himself—but for something real.

He clenched his fists.

"No deal," he said quietly.

The mirror raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Lucas looked up, eyes hard. "You want me to become you. But I’m not a copy. I’m me. And I’ll get stronger—my own way. No merging. No strings."

The mirror stared.

Then... he smiled.

> "Good answer."

He snapped his fingers.

The battlefield shattered—falling away into mist.

The white light returned.

And Lucas woke up.

---

He gasped, stumbling out of the vault chamber like he’d just been born again. The air tasted real. The fire above still raged. The place was falling apart.

The slime clung to his chest, wide-eyed. "Boss! Boss back!! Mirror place scary!"

Lucas nodded, breath ragged. "Yeah... but I got what I needed."

He turned to run—his body lighter. His steps faster. Every nerve tingled like it had been rewired. A new HUD flickered at the corner of his vision—data streaming, strength percentages, enemy scan potential. Everything was clearer.

Sylmara met him at the stairs, her eyes wide. "You’re alive?!"

Lucas smirked. "Told you I’d keep it casual."

Together, they ran.

Behind them, the compound crumbled into ash.

Ahead—was war.

But Lucas wasn’t afraid anymore.

He was ready.

They didn’t stop running until the trees swallowed the last glimpse of stone and smoke behind them.

Lucas dropped to a knee, panting, sweat running down his temple. The adrenaline faded slowly, replaced by a strange calm—a stillness in his body that hadn’t been there before.

Sylmara crouched beside him, eyes scanning him carefully.

"You’re different," she said. Not as an observation—more like a confirmation.

Lucas gave a breathless chuckle. "I keep hearing that today."

The slime peeked up from his shoulder and added proudly, "Boss saw mirror ghost and said no to destiny!"

Lucas shot it a glance. "You’re weirdly good at summarizing things."

Sylmara’s gaze lingered a moment longer, then she stood and turned toward the clearing ahead.

The rescued elves were there—gathered in a loose formation near the edge of the woods. Some injured, some armed, some still shaken. Mbaku stood at the center, bloodied but alive, holding up a broken spear like a banner.

When he saw Lucas approach, his face broke into a grin. "There he is! The crazy lord made it!"

Lucas waved weakly. "Hey, Mbaku. You look like shit."

"Likewise," Mbaku said, laughing. "But I hear you killed the wolf."

Lucas looked at the slime, then at Sylmara, then back at Mbaku. "We killed a lot more than that."

One of the freed elves stepped forward—it was the silver-haired elder from the main cell. His voice was hoarse, but filled with steady conviction.

"You’ve done more than rescue us. You’ve exposed a system that was hidden for decades. You’ve lit a spark."

He bowed, slowly. Then the others followed. All of them.

Lucas blinked. "Oh. Wow. Uh... guys, I’m not exactly... royalty or anything. I literally just figured out how to punch properly."

Sylmara smirked. "You might want to get used to the attention."

Mbaku stepped beside him, voice low. "Word’s already spreading. About you. About what happened in that vault. The way you fought the captain. The people think you’re blessed."

Lucas snorted. "That’s gonna suck later."

Mbaku chuckled. "Maybe. But right now, they need a symbol."