This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist Chapter 887: Divine Game - Card Swap 136

There were 2,118 kapybaras, yet the number of apprentices far exceeded that. Maybe so teachers refused to join the ga, or maybe so apprentices had no formal ntors aside from their academy instructors.

She wondered if Lightchaser had co.

On the ice island, one kapybara after another began to appear. They all had the sa dopey, cute face, yet sohow each one radiated its own style and aura: gloomy, shrewd, gentle, world-weary, cold, or simple and honest. Clearly, these weren’t ordinary kapybaras.

The island sat level with the ocean, and waves occasionally washed across its surface, keeping it slick and making sure the fish could slide over it by skill alone.

But Rita didn’t rush to climb up. Like most apprentices, she circled the island.

As she swam, she shouted toward the herd of kapybaras. "Lightchaser, are you here? Lightchaser!"

No kapybara responded.

Rita muttered, "What kind of reward is this? You won’t even recognize ?"

Maple Syrup slid by and answered, "Might be a million gold coins."

Mistblade stopped as well, thoughtful. "Not that much. Maybe eight hundred thousand? Seven hundred? Just enough to wipe Wail’s debts clean."

Maple Syrup nodded. "Makes sense."

The two fish swam off.

Rita remained silent the whole ti. Lightchaser, this is your fault! Now I can’t even talk confidently in front of my friends!

Perhaps impatient with the apprentices’ hesitation, a thirty-minute countdown appeared above the ice island.

That was all the push they needed. The apprentices surged forward, eager to play this twisted ga of tadpoles searching for their mother.

The island was large, and even packed with more than two thousand kapybaras and just as many fish, it didn’t feel crowded. Rita spread her fins and slid smoothly across the ice, searching for a pair of eyes like Lightchaser’s.

How hard could it be? Whoever looked at people as if they were garbage—that was Lightchaser.

The kapybaras didn’t move. They let the apprentices stare, said nothing, and so even closed their eyes.

That made Rita take the ga’s rule seriously: "In the eyes of kapybaras, apprentices also appear as kapybaras." She even suspected that keywords like teachers’ nas were being filtered.

After a lap around the island, Rita stopped at the edge, frowning in thought. How could she pick Lightchaser out?

If only she still had her coins. She could scratch a card here, and maybe Lightchaser’s way of scratching would give her away.

Before long, two Keef Angel Fish and two Winterthorn Fish slid over, lying side by side with her, staring at the kapybara herd.

Not far off, one apprentice cursed loudly at their teacher, hoping to provoke them into reacting and win the ga.

Rita wasn’t sure how close that apprentice was with their teacher, but for her, it was unthinkable. Whether in public or private, she would never insult Lightchaser. Playful banter, maybe—but insults? Never. She wouldn’t even allow others to insult Lightchaser.

She had hated Lightchaser before, but she respected her more.

She said to her companions, "I would never do that to Lightchaser. My teacher is the softest part of my heart."

Her friends nodded.

"Gross, but true."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Loyalty!"

"Loyalty!"

After a brief burst of chatter, the fish fell silent again, worrying over the kapybaras.

Rita sighed. "...If only I had a skill to see soul flas."

Mistblade shot back, "Have you ever even seen Lightchaser’s soul fla?"

That shut Rita up. She hadn’t.

But she was sure of it—Lightchaser’s soul fla had to be unlike anyone else’s, brilliant and dazzling, the kind you could spot at a glance. Still, even if such a skill existed, it wouldn’t work here. Not on kapybaras.

...Wait. When the gods copied the teachers’ souls, did they also replicate their stats and skills?

Skills didn’t affect the kapybaras, which looked like protection—as if they had no way to defend themselves. But what if that wasn’t true?

If she could force the kapybaras to use skills, wouldn’t their true identities be revealed?

And if they did have stats and could fight back? That didn’t scare her.

If kapybaras could attack freely, the apprentices wouldn’t stand a chance. Lightchaser might even kill half the crowd for fun and call it "enhancing the ga experience."

At worst, the kapybaras would only counterattack when provoked. That, she could handle. She already had Bedti Tale, and her Nebula Bubble still had durability left. If they fought back, she could retreat into the shadow world.

And if she lured a kapybara into the crowd, even better—let them take out so apprentices for her.

After weighing the risks, Rita made her move.

She slid toward a kapybara on the outer edge and nudged its backside with her fish head, pushing it toward the sea.

Most apprentices had fallen quiet, pondering strategies. When they saw Blue-striped Bluru’s antics, they turned to watch, puzzled. Even the mysterious anglers on the shore set down their coffee to see what she was up to.

The kapybara realized sothing was wrong and tried to shuffle aside, but it was too late.

Behind Rita, a whirlwind gathered. It was just a simple B-rank skill, Gale.

The gust blasted her forward, shoving her toward the ocean. The skill itself didn’t touch the kapybara, but Rita’s body did—and she hadn’t used any skill.

In an instant, before the eyes of everyone watching, she shoved the kapybara across the ice. With a splash, it toppled into the sea.

Rita tensed, ready to summon her lantern and slip into the shadow world at the first sign of danger.

The kapybara surfaced at once, conjuring an ice floe beneath itself with an ice spell, hauling its chubby body back onto solid ground. It panted, glaring at Rita with fury.

That reaction, that expression, that spell—definitely not Lightchaser.

An ice arrow shot her way, but Rita dodged easily.

A little magic, a little strength—but not much.

Her eyes lit up. "Charge! Push the kapybaras into the water! You’ll see their emotions and skills!"

The fish went wild.