The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 152: Sieved Fates

That wasn’t just bad for it, it was bad for the entire system realm.

After all, the odds of two system-bound transmigrators showing up in the same world were... one in a hundred million.

How could the odds be that low, and yet it happened anyway?

Maybe it was time to go buy a lottery ticket?

Under the relentless threats from its host, even a heartless system was beginning to crack.

The more the host pushed, the more frantically it poked its supervisor, praying that the upper systems would quickly complete their investigation.

Minute by minute, time ticked by—and meanwhile, Juwon had already finished drafting a full-length complaint letter at brain-melting speed.

And just one second before he hit submit... the system finally received a response from both its supervisor and the Main System.

[ Main System: There is no second transmigrator on this world. The individual you reported is not a transmigrator, but a Prophet. Their existence is valid and lawful. ]

[ Stingy Supervisor: You should’ve received the main system’s response by now—there’s no second transmigrator here. Also, if you really were the one-in-a-hundred-million exception, how come you still haven’t won a single lottery ticket in your life? I’m starting to think you bought your System Academy diploma off the black market. As for Clause 85 of the contract—it only covers transmigrators, not individuals who were reborn with memories intact. I suggest you go back to school when this is all over. ]

The system, thoroughly roasted by its supervisor, was left speechless.

Because, truth be told... it really had forgotten that this was a thing.

But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about all that.

The system quickly relayed the message it had received from the Main System and its supervisor to its host, who was just about to submit a formal complaint.

It managed to stop the host at the very last second, just before the complaint button was pressed.

The system repeated everything the Main System and its supervisor had said to Juwon, word for word, without changing a single sentence—except, of course, it conveniently left out the part where the supervisor had roasted it.

After all, it still needed to maintain its image as a dignified system in front of its host!

It couldn’t afford to lose face.

Juwon had vented all his anxiety and anger into the complaint letter he’d written using his spiritual energy.

The moment he put down the final stroke, he had immediately prepared to press the complaint button.

But just before he could do so, he heard the system’s hurried voice.

[ The results are in. The person who spoke to you isn’t a transmigrator. He’s a "Prophet," which is a legitimate and naturally occurring existence on this world. You don’t need to understand what a "Prophet" is—you just need to know that their existence is considered normal. Whatever they say, or whatever memories they hold, it’s all within expected parameters. ]

[ Also, people who are reincarnated into this world—those individuals are not counted as "transmigrators." So make sure you get that distinction straight. ]

Juwon only selectively absorbed the part he wanted to hear—that there was no second transmigrator, and the person who had just spoken to him wasn’t one.

Having received that confirmation, he finally let out a deep sigh of relief.

All the worst-case scenarios that had been racing through his mind began to dissipate.

Only now did he calm down enough to start thinking seriously about the person standing in front of him—and what their intentions might be.

Eoryun, on the other hand, was utterly baffled.

He honestly couldn’t figure out why the tearful reunion he had imagined wasn’t happening.

None of this was going the way he expected.

Still, he had already taken a major risk by coming this far.

It wasn’t like he could just give up now.

If he did, then everything he had done up to this point would have been in vain.

Besides, he had already taken the risk of exposing himself.

Sunk cost, sunk cost... He had already invested this much, so now he had no choice but to forge ahead.

Eoryun cautiously attempted another probe—but this time, he didn’t try using any coded language.

He chose to speak plainly.

"Um, I don’t mean any harm. I’m not some evil maniac who hunts down transmigrators or anything like that. It’s just that you seemed kind of familiar to me, so I wanted to ask—are you an army?"

That line about "you seemed familiar" was just a pretext. The real purpose of his question was everything that came after.

Juwon: "..."

He had never seen such a refreshingly blunt method of probing before.

It was basically one step away from outright asking, "Are you from earth?"

So where the hell had this cheeky little weasel come from?

Juwon didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he once again activated his magic power and nudged the flowerpot he was in, allowing himself to drift freely across the wide surface of the Cold Pool.

He took this moment to stretch out his long-stiffened leaves and petals, savoring the motion.

He wanted to unfurl every single leaf and every petal, as if to shake off all the tension that had built up inside him.

Juwon was a little unsure of what to do—should he give a definite answer, or say nothing at all?

It was a difficult choice.

Just then, the system, which had recovered its vigor, opened its mouth with that strange mechanical voice of its.

[ What are you hesitating about? That guy’s not a transmigrator anyway. He belongs to the "Prophet" category. And as luck would have it, there’s a very high chance that you two are from the same place. The fact that he fought his way through and came all the way here just to greet you—that alone reveals his true intentions, doesn’t it? ]

Juwon didn’t believe a single word of the system’s nonsense.

[ You must’ve discovered something, right? Someone as selfish as you wouldn’t suddenly grow a conscience out of nowhere. Believing you’ve suddenly become kind-hearted is harder than believing a pig could climb a tree. ]

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