This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist

After returning from Lania Kaia, Rita threw herself back into work.

She knew she would have to enter the next Divine Game again. The wager stated clearly—"win first place in the next three Divine Games." Technically, she could wait until the moment before losing her game eligibility to join again, but she wasn't going to play word games with fate. She couldn't afford that kind of gamble.

Nivalis hadn't come out of the gaming console since the last visit to Dragon Island—either she knew her mother had beaten Rita or she was just lost in a gaming trance. Rita didn't bother to ask which.

The shadow she summoned through Shadow Control had taken over her game console duties—grinding in the "Defend the Capsule" minigame twenty-four hours a day. The goal was to log five hundred hours to unlock a random skill or in-game item, all while secretly collecting combat data from other players.

Rita herself ran Waste Guide at least four times a day. With the owl trinket's help, she could trigger a few more rounds.

By calculation, her shadow could clock over a hundred in-game hours a day. With that kind of overtime, it could draw one random skill or artifact in less than five days.

The "Defend the Capsule" game was unlike any other. Each player's skills were the most practical ones they could bring, and the only obtainable items inside were those other players carried—except for the capsule machine itself, which was completely immune to every ability in the game.

Rita was genuinely excited to see what kind of reward that system would spit out.

As for herself, she was even busier than her shadow. She spent at least two hours a day dealing with BlueStar's administrative affairs.

She used to ignore everything—each legion ran its own affairs. They all treated her like an uncrowned ruler, but since she never demanded authority, no one ever volunteered to hand it over.

Now things were different. She was BlueStar's Adjudicator.

Anything important—city reconstruction, resource allocation, deployment of those with divine-gifted talents, conflicts of interest between major legions—ended up on her desk.

All of it could shift with a single word from her.

Power had its intoxicating flavor. Even if this constant paperwork slowed her progress toward strengthening herself, Rita didn't actually dislike it.

Still, the wager wasn't complete. Two hours a day was all she could spare for bureaucracy; if BlueStar fell, no amount of management would matter anyway.

There was one thing she couldn't avoid, though: meeting the top hundred legion commanders face-to-face.

Shadow.Q, the only one who knew the full wager, was the one who suggested it. "Especially now. They need to see you. The war ended too suddenly—they're uneasy."

Even the grand evolution event hadn't fully eased that anxiety.

Anyone capable of forming a legion wasn't a fool. In the BlueStar War, Rita had looked one moment away from dying. The emergency vote she initiated had felt like grasping at the last straw.

Now, with legions and national authorities flooding her with reports, most of it was testing her stance—testing whether BlueStar still had a future. After all, no one would risk their resources for a sinking ship.

If Rita hadn't created several new trial arenas, the commanders would be panicking even more. That was why Shadow.Q wanted this meeting—to calm them down.

A formal gathering like this required at least a decent appearance.

When Shadow.Q heard that Rita was going to change into "something more proper," she actually felt relieved. Finally, the Adjudicator's sense of ceremony.

She waited outside the alchemy workshop. A few minutes later, golden rain began to fall from the sky, and the soft scent of potions drifted through the air. Rita appeared beside her.

She wore a white shirt, fitted trousers, and combat boots, with a platinum robe edged in faintly glowing runes hanging loosely over her shoulders. The wind caught her long hair and the hem of her robe, making both ripple together.

Through the open collar of her shirt, Shadow.Q could glimpse the owl pendant, a pocket watch, and a miniature capsule machine. A wide belt at her waist carried a revolver—the red cylinder perfectly matching the crimson lining of her robe.

The ship's helm and lantern floated beside her, occasionally smacking each other on purpose like quarrelsome spirits.

Shadow.Q tried to keep her expression composed as she asked, smiling, "So… this shirt is your idea of formal wear?"

She had noticed her new leader's personal touch—Rita always matched her outfit's color scheme to her favorite equipment and artifacts.

And to be fair, with her height, complexion, and commanding presence, Rita could make almost anything look good. Still, Shadow.Q had expected something… slightly more traditional.

Rita spread her arms and looked down at herself. "This shirt and robe are both indestructible. It's the only set I've got."

Everything she'd looted from the three Lania Kaia leaders had required a higher level to equip. They were all collecting dust in her Adjudicator's vault.

Shadow.Q gave a helpless smile. "It's… perfect."

Fine. If the Adjudicator chose this look, it must have a reason.

Apparently, the legion commanders agreed.

The instant Rita appeared, a subtle relief spread across every face in the room.

She took her seat at the head of the table. Shadow.Q sat on her right, Avery on her left.

The meeting went by quickly—almost perfunctory, as if the commanders only wanted to show up, meet their Adjudicator in person, and gauge her condition.

When it adjourned, Rita was the first to leave. The platinum helm floating behind her spun half a turn, and with the sound of waves and a shimmer of golden rain, the Adjudicator vanished from the chamber.

Shadow.Q and Avery walked side by side down the corridor. "Did you notice anything?" Shadow.Q asked.

Avery's voice was soft. "She looks more troubled than yesterday. Something made her happy—really happy—but that same thing brought her even heavier pressure."

Shadow.Q sighed. "I thought so too. But she didn't tell me. Whatever it is, it's beyond what I can help with."

"Did you find Scarlett and Samuel?"

"Found them."

"Keep them alive."

"Is that necessary?"

"Of course." Avery's voice went almost tranquil. "As long as they stay alive—neither good nor bad—it keeps her mind clear. Keeps her detached."

Shadow.Q walked in silence for a few seconds before asking suddenly, "Is that what you learned from the blood-curse experiment you used against her back then?"

Avery's face didn't change, not even her pace. Her tone was light, almost amused. "So she figured it out?"

Shadow.Q nodded. "She did."

Avery smiled, her voice turning delighted. "Then it seems our Adjudicator decided to let me live."

"What were you thinking at the time?"

"I wanted that dragon," Avery said simply. "Didn't expect her to be ready for me."

"I remember she's your niece, bloodline-wise."

"You've gotten witty since we changed leadership. My own brother never mattered to me—why would a niece?"

"Fair point. So, about that 'gift of gratitude' you're supposed to present—your apology in disguise—have you decided what to give her yet?"

"Knowing a leader too well tends to get you killed."

"You mean the previous leader."

"Ah," Avery said with a faint smile, "then she should've killed me sooner."