"Unlucky?"
"I'm unlucky?"
LeBlanc pushed herself upright. Her hands—still bound by Janna's wind—shook hard as she glared at Swain, her face flushed red. Fury burned in her eyes as she demanded, "You're calling me unlucky?"
"It wasn't me," Swain said calmly, shaking his head. Then he lifted a hand and pointed at Logan. "Logan said it."
LeBlanc snapped her gaze to Logan.
"What are you looking at me for?" Logan said flatly. "Staring at me doesn't magically make you not unlucky."
He watched her kneel upright, hands held in front of her, glaring at him like she wanted to bite. Logan chuckled and continued, "Face reality, LeBlanc. You're unlucky. Do you really need me to list everything you've done, one by one?"
"Then say it," LeBlanc shot back. "What did I do that makes you call me unlucky?"
She was angry—genuinely angry.
If Logan said she lost because she wasn't strong enough, she could accept that. The people who caught her were Zaun's god and Swain, who wielded demonic power—especially Zaun's god. At full strength, even Mordekaiser might not have been able to beat her.
But unlucky?
You can call LeBlanc weak. You can call her trash. But you don't get to call her unlucky!
Because I—
LeBlanc bit her lip. Beneath the rage, there was a faint sting of humiliation.
Looking back… she really had been unlucky. Out of ten plans, more than seven had failed. And when most people fail, the worst outcome is they don't profit—maybe they waste time and effort.
But LeBlanc?
When she failed even once, she somehow ended up gaining a new enemy. One scheme, one enemy. To be honest, LeBlanc didn't even know how many enemies she had anymore.
So no—she couldn't accept the label.
And yet she also believed Logan and Swain couldn't possibly know everything she'd done. Even if Swain had demonic power, he couldn't know it all.
Because there was no such thing as true omniscience.
LeBlanc believed that with certainty.
With that thought, she regained a bit of confidence. She lifted her chin toward Logan, her emotions gradually settling.
"You want me to say it?" Logan laughed, looking at LeBlanc like she was hilarious.
Swain also turned his attention to Logan. As for LeBlanc's "bad luck," Swain only knew three major incidents.
First: she turned traitor and plotted against her leader, and her leader ended up becoming the Iron Revenant.
Second: she tried to set Swain up, failed, and instead led Swain straight to her existence.
Third: while handling state affairs, Swain discovered that a powerful recon team had once been dispatched to Ionia to capture the empire's former soldier, Riven.
There were also smaller things—agents placed in the army, networks Swain had uprooted—but those were tied to the second incident, so they didn't really count as separate.
Other than that… what else had she done?
Swain was curious too.
Logan snorted at LeBlanc's stubborn, reckless confidence. "Since you're the one asking, then I'll say it. Don't regret it afterward."
"Hmph. Let's hear a few, then." The Deceiver straightened her posture, proud and brazen.
"You once tried to use Boram Darkwill's authority to control Sion," Logan said. "Instead, Sion went berserk. Noxus's border defenses collapsed because of it, and Darkwill ended up branded as incompetent."
LeBlanc's rigid posture seized up.
Beside her, Swain narrowed his eyes.
Swain knew the incident—Sion losing control, unable to distinguish ally from enemy, causing the border to fall. It had been a turning point that weakened Darkwill's grip on the empire. After that, Darkwill's control over his subordinates started slipping.
Because the nation lost territory due to Sion's rampage, everyone believed it was Darkwill's stubborn decision.
But now Logan was saying it was LeBlanc?
Why?
Wasn't she Noxian?
Back then, Noxus had nearly gotten its border carved apart by Demacia!
Logan didn't care what either of them was thinking. He kept going.
"To deal with Mordekaiser's return—so you wouldn't get pulped by a single swing of his mace—you searched for ways to stop him. You even started creating your own 'ways.' Under the Black Rose's name, you opened a laboratory and found a girl with exceptionally powerful magic.
"She was gifted—her magic could control metal. If she grew up properly, she would've been a weapon you could use against Mordekaiser. But what happened?"
Logan's smile sharpened.
"What happened is she suffered inhuman treatment in your lab, turned against the Black Rose, destroyed your facility, and escaped. Now she's out there somewhere—and no one even knows where she's roaming."
LeBlanc stopped holding her waist stiff and proud. Her expression turned strange. Her bare, pale feet curled, toes tightening against the ribbon-like edge of her restraints.
She shifted from kneeling to sitting, then tucked her feet behind her like she wanted to hide them, looking awkward and cornered.
Swain stared at her with a hostile chill. "So the riot at the Black Mountain Mine was your fault too?"
The Black Mountain Mine was a mid-sized Noxian operation that had long produced iron ore and coal—one of the few mineral resources within Noxus's borders.
Noxus was truly poor in natural resources. Otherwise, centuries ago they wouldn't have been called "barbarians."
These days, Noxus's largest mining region was Delverhold.
It was a mining town built around a mountain—Noxus's biggest. But it was taken by conquest, and that didn't make the Black Mountain Mine unimportant.
Not long ago, the Black Mountain Mine had erupted into chaos. A girl riding an iron warhorse had appeared—apparently fleeing someone—and after she passed through, part of the mine collapsed.
LeBlanc stayed silent, turning her face away from Swain.
Swain's gaze darkened. He now knew Logan was telling the truth.
So… what are you, exactly?
Are you even Noxian?
Swain felt like asking it out loud.
If you really are Noxian, why is everything you do poisoning Noxus?
Logan continued—Riven, then Annie, then even Elise.
"Though the Elise situation doesn't really count as a failure," Logan added. "Yeah, Elise became Vilemaw's follower, but she still listens to you and cooperates with you. She helps you move contraband off the Shadow Isles. Fine. That one doesn't count."
LeBlanc's head was almost down to her chest when Logan said, "Alright, now let's talk about Shurima—"
LeBlanc jerked her head up and screeched, "When did I ever plan to go to Shurima?!"
"You didn't have the Du Couteau general's second daughter—" Logan started automatically, then stopped.
He froze. Right. The timing still wasn't right. It would be a while before LeBlanc sent Cassiopeia to Shurima.
But Logan's face hardened again as he said, "Whatever. You're going to send someone to Shurima in the future. LeBlanc, you've always coveted Ascended power. Am I wrong? Am I wrong?"
LeBlanc stared at Logan, stunned.
Send someone to Shurima?
Yes—General Du Couteau's wife, a Black Rose member, had once floated that idea. She'd wanted to offer that "gift" to LeBlanc, and LeBlanc had agreed.
But that was supposed to be known only to her.
This wasn't even something she'd done yet.
So how did he know?
Swain glanced at Logan, then back at LeBlanc, thinking only one thing:
As expected—Logan had gained foresight in that other world.
Someone like Logan… if Swain could simply crush him outright, that would be one thing.
But Swain thought it through and realized that even if he threw away all caution, he still couldn't do it. At most, he could make Logan suffer—design the destruction of the Twin Cities, kill everyone close to him.
But kill Logan himself?
Don't make him laugh.
Logan could slip into another world at any time, and he had gods protecting him.
And one of those gods was even stronger than Zaun's wind goddess. Because of that, Swain had already made his decision:
Logan could only ever be treated as an ally.
Never as an enemy.
Powerful, well-connected, and capable of seeing the future…
Swain let out a bitter chuckle and shook his head.
Why wasn't Logan Noxian?
"Answer me," Logan pressed. "In the future, are you going to do it or not?"
"I didn't—"
"You want to say you never even considered it?" Logan's tone turned sharp. "You really never considered it?"
LeBlanc fell silent. She trembled with anger, but when she looked at Logan now, fear had crept into her eyes.
She was smart. Just like Swain, she began to suspect Logan truly had foresight.
"I want to add something," Swain cut in.
Logan looked at him.
Swain stared at LeBlanc and asked, "LeBlanc—are you really Noxian?"
"Bullshit!" LeBlanc snapped. She glared at Swain in contempt. "When your great-grandfather wasn't even born yet, I was already working to build this country. You think Noxus became what it is today because of your emperors?"
"Because of who?" Swain's cold laugh carried no warmth. His voice turned icy. "So you're saying Noxus exists as it does today because of you. And I should thank you for it. Is that what you're saying?"
LeBlanc tried to lift a hand in a dismissive gesture—only to remember she was still bound. So she just pursed her lips, forcing a sweet smile instead.
Swain's eyes darkened. "If you're Noxian, then why did you scheme to ruin Noxus?"
LeBlanc blinked. "?"
"Are you out of your—"
Her words died instantly as Swain's temper finally exploded.
He surged to his feet, demonic power erupting around him like a storm. He loomed over LeBlanc, fury rolling off him.
"You let the border fall. You made civilians suffer. You dragged the empire's economy backward. Because of your schemes over the years, Noxus has been set back by a full century!"
Swain's voice hit like steel.
"LeBlanc, you still dare claim you didn't harm Noxus? Are you a Demacian spy? Every time you get one idea, Noxus pays for it. And you still dare call yourself Noxian?"
LeBlanc's body shook too—but not from fear.
From rage.
By all that was holy—she had done it all for herself, sure, but if Mordekaiser returned, all of Noxus would suffer too. Yes, it was selfish, but didn't Noxus benefit from her efforts as well? If Mordekaiser was dealt with, wouldn't the end result be good?
If the result was good, did the process really matter?
And another thing—Swain was a man in his decades. Why was he talking to her like that?
She was old enough to be his ancestor ten times over. The founding of this nation had her fingerprints on it. She was an elder.
And lastly—LeBlanc felt wronged!
Every plan she came up with started with good intentions. If the outcome turned bad, was that really her fault?
That wasn't her fault. It couldn't be.
Someone—something—was clearly targeting her.
LeBlanc ground her teeth, forced to endure it as a prisoner with no way to fight back. All she could do was glare at Swain.
Logan stepped in to smooth it over.
"Alright, alright—sit down. Sit down, Swain."
Swain glanced at Logan, snorted at LeBlanc, then sat back down and reined in his demonic power.
"Swain," Logan said, "I helped you drag LeBlanc into the open. So now we're back to Darius. After I bring Darius back for you, Noxus hands over the rune steel forging process to Zaun. That's the deal, right?"
LeBlanc's eyes widened as realization hit. She snapped her head toward Logan.
"Wait—rune steel? I can give you that too. I have it!"
She leaned forward, furious. "He's only controlled Noxus for how long? How long have I controlled Noxus? If you need something, why don't you come to me? Why not work with me?"
Logan considered it for a moment and answered honestly, "Because I think he's the winner in the future. Not you."
He smiled at LeBlanc. "Who told you to be unlucky?"
"…"
Swain's mouth curved slightly. He sat straighter, visibly pleased.
With Logan's supposed foresight in mind, that single sentence meant one thing:
In the future, Noxus would be firmly and perfectly under Swain's control.
LeBlanc, on the other hand, looked offended beyond belief. "So you really do have foresight? What if you're wrong? What if you misread it? Why don't you check again?"
"Why is he the winner?"
Logan was terrible at politics. If Silco had to rate him, Logan's political ability was only one step above Jinx's—he could understand what he heard, but if you asked him to explain the mechanics, he'd have nothing coherent to say.
If Swain's political skill was a ninety-nine, then Silco was a ninety, Mel was an eighty-eight, and the councilors averaged around eighty. Jinx was a single digit.
And Logan was, at best, a multiple of Jinx.
That didn't mean Logan was stupid. You couldn't call Jinx stupid either.
She didn't understand politics, but who had a sharper mind than her?
Jayce and Viktor, Heimerdinger and Singed—every one of them had acknowledged her as a genius.
So Logan was smart enough to understand exactly what role he played in LeBlanc and Swain's eyes right now.
To them, he was an attractive, powerful, well-connected man—calm, refined, and gifted with foresight.
And Logan was happy to let them believe it.
Because it meant he could get advantages out of both LeBlanc and Swain.
And honestly, as a man who came from another world, claiming he had "foresight" wasn't even that strange.
With that thought, Logan looked at LeBlanc and said, "Even without me interfering, between you and Swain, Swain still has the advantage. You'll be exposed and caught because of something. Swain might not be able to truly put you in a cage forever, but you'll be restrained—unable to do whatever you want in Noxus."
"You'll end up joining the Trifarix. You won't remain a shadow operator forever. Swain will reshape Noxus, and under his rule, Noxus will only become stronger."
"So, LeBlanc," Logan said evenly, "tell me—if you were me, what would you choose?"
He held her gaze.
"Would you choose to cooperate with someone whose future is bright—someone who rewards merit, who uses people for their ability, someone upright and capable…"
Swain lifted his chest with pride, clearly liking Logan more and more.
With demonic power, Swain wouldn't truly fall for any charm effect. At most, he'd find Logan agreeable.
But now?
Now he genuinely liked him.
And Logan finished the thought—making LeBlanc's face go rigid and dark.
"Or would you choose an unlucky woman who's arrogant, suspicious, and slippery?"
LeBlanc's stomach hurt with anger.
But at the same time, she started doubting herself.
If Logan really did have foresight… then was the problem her?
Was she truly that pathetic?
Why did it feel like…
Everyone was persecuting her?!
LeBlanc felt wronged.
Very wronged.
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