Chapter 307: The Collapse of Etiquette and Logic
Iron Fortress Territory, Central Park Gaming Sector.
The afternoon sun filtered through the roadside trees, dappling the pedestrians
with a lazy, amber warmth.
Kaito had already departed from the Evernight Transit Hub. He was currently
draped in a cheap, nondescript grey cloak, burying his skeletal frame in the
shadows. He had manually suppressed the soulfire in his sockets to its minimum
output, making him appear as nothing more than a mundane, low-tier skeleton.
He had just returned from the riverbank.
His mood was statistically abysmal.
Today was another "Air Force Day"—the slang for a total fishing failure. This
was despite the fact that only yesterday, he had personally stocked that cursed
river with twenty hand-selected, high-quality fat carp. To ensure their survival
rate, he had individually monitored their acclimatization to the water
temperature and provided several sentences of verbal encouragement to each fish.
And yet, today, after hours of his hook sitting in the current, he hadn't seen a
single ripple.
He was beginning to suspect that the carp had waited for the moon to rise,
packed their tiny fish-belongings, and initiated a collective exodus.
In times of such profound disappointment, the only logical counter-measure was
to seek entertainment. Specifically, to "farm" some novices at a game of wits—to
soothe his wounded heart with the absolute crushing of inferior minds.
Kaito's objective was clear: The Park Gaming Sector. His personal "Happy Place."
Kaito drifted through the gaming area until he localized a premium target. A
demi-human youth sat at a stone table. He looked young—his furry ears twitched
with every breeze, and his eyes were filled with the terrifyingly pure
simplicity of someone who had never known hardship.
Perfect. He's the one.
"A match?"
Kaito sat opposite him, intentionally dropping his vocal register to a deep,
resonant rasp.
The youth looked up. Seeing the skeletal face beneath the hood, his eyes
brightened instantly. "Certainly! Elder Skeleton, you possess the first move!"
Kaito didn't decline. He seized a red Pawn and slammed it onto the central line.
The Celestial Sentinel.
A textbook opening. The beastkin youth tilted his head, pondered for a moment,
and moved a black Knight.
Kaito's skull gave a satisfied nod. A Knight opening. He's likely pivoting into
a Screen Horse Defense—a stable, reactive formation. At least he isn't a total
data-void.
This match promised a marginal degree of entertainment.
However.
The moment the piece struck the board, Kaito detected a catastrophic logic
error. The youth's Knight had landed on a square that violated the fundamental
geometry of the game.
"Halt," Kaito raised a bony finger, pointing at the black Knight. "Your maneuver
is illegal. According to the rules, the Knight's 'leg' is currently blocked by
your own Pawn. You cannot jump to that coordinate."
The youth looked at Kaito with a gaze of profound confusion, as if he were
speaking a dead language.
"Blocked? Elder... are you referring to the 'Legacy Protocol' where pieces
obstruct movement?"
"The... 'Legacy Protocol'?"
"Correct," the youth nodded matter-of-factly, his tone as casual as if stating
the weather. "That rule was patched out cycles ago. It was far too rigid; it
severely limited the tactical insertion capabilities of cavalry units."
"In the current version, Knights ignore all structural obstacles for direct
penetration. Furthermore, once the Knight reaches the backline, it triggers the
Combo-Skill: [Royal Expedition]!"
Kaito's soulfire pulsed with a million literal question marks. "Royal
Expedition? Explain the logic."
"The King is authorized to exit the 3x3 Palace and engage in active combat on
the front lines," the youth explained. He pointed to his own King. "Observe: my
King is currently at the baseline. Next turn, I project he will charge directly
into your territory."
"Combined with a 'Phase-Shifting' Knight and a high-velocity Rook, I will
establish a 'Trinitarian Assault' formation."
"This is the primary meta-strategy for Park Chess."
Kaito went silent. He stared at the board, then at the youth's sincere, earnest
face.
"Park... Chess?"
"Uh-huh!" The youth nodded again. "You weren't aware? Everyone plays Park Chess
now. Traditional rules are a structural prison—you can't move here, you can't go
there... it's a suffocating experience."
"Park Chess is 'Free-Style'! Liberated! The community here formulates new
tactical expansions every cycle!"
He extended a finger, beginning a "Newbie Tutorial" for the Sovereign.
"For example: The King can initiate a Royal Expedition. Cannons no longer
require a 'Platform Piece' to jump; we call that the [Solid Shot]. Knights
ignore blocking, designated as a [Cavalry Charge]."
"And the absolute peak: Once a Pawn crosses the river, it gains omnidirectional
movement."
"We call him... [The All-Mighty Pawn King]!"
Kaito's soulfire began to vibrate violently in his sockets. He performed
a 360-degree scan of the sector.
He realized now that every table was engaged in a display of tactical insanity.
He saw a Dwarf commanding his King as it rampaged through an enemy's ranks like
a berserker. He saw an Elf using a Cannon like a Rook, sliding it across the
board with zero regard for physics.
Most horrifyingly, he saw a table where the players had mixed Chess and Gomoku
pieces together to play a three-way faction war, shouting about "Alliances" and
"Betrayals."
Kaito lunged to his feet. His voice rose to a pitch that rattled the nearby
trees.
"The etiquette is shattered! The logic is decayed!"
The surrounding citizens froze, their pieces hovering in mid-air as they stared
at the standing skeleton. Kaito pointed a trembling finger at the board, his
soulfire flaring a frantic, angry blue.
"Chess possesses Rules! The rules are the foundation of the art!"
"To alter the fundamental code at your own whim... to turn strategy into a
chaotic fever-dream... can you even call this Chess?!"
"This is a sacrilege against the Board!"
The beastkin youth was struck dumb. He looked at the agitated skeleton, his
furry ears drooping with a wave of "Social Anxiety."
"But... but everyone says it's more fun this way," the boy whimpered. "And Park
Chess evolved from your game. We just added some... minor optimizations."
An Orc sitting at the next table couldn't help but chime in. "Take it easy,
brother. It's just a game. We're here for entertainment, not a theology
lecture."
Kaito visualized his future: No more elegant dismantling of opponents. No more
"Briefs Formation." Just a bunch of meat-heads racing their Kings across the
board like charging boars.
"Insignificant upstarts!" Kaito hissed. "Unworthy of strategy!"
With that terminal evaluation, Kaito spun around and stormed off. His cloak
snapped behind him with a definitive, dramatic arc.
Behind him, he heard the youth's tearful, dejected voice. "I... this is the
Entertainment Sector... did I say something wrong? Elder! Don't depart! The
match is incomplete!"
Kaito didn't look back. His gait was rapid and rigid.
He needed a sector of silence. He needed to recalibrate.
How had his meticulously promoted game turned into such a... such a
stitched-together monstrosity in the hands of these "pests"?
At what stage, Kaito wondered, did the logic of the Evernight fail?
☆☆☆
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