Chapter 43: Prettier Prize - Codex Null: Simulation Through Madness - NovelsTime

Codex Null: Simulation Through Madness

Chapter 43: Prettier Prize

Author: Bored_Neet
updatedAt: 2025-08-09

CHAPTER 43: PRETTIER PRIZE

Still inside his room, Noel — having finished reading and confirming his choices from the unexpected simulation — finally turned his attention to the items he had brought back with him.

Laid out on his desk were the antiquity items he had bought, along with the bandaged knife — the one at the center of all this trouble — and a sharp dagger... the very one Gavin had used.

Noel tried not to hold too many expectations toward the dagger he picked up... but even so, he couldn’t help but eagerly appraise it.

[Steel Fang]

A mass-produced combat dagger made from reinforced alloy mixed with 0.1% Veltrium. Unit Code: V17. Its previous user failed to maintain it — and the blade has already begun to show signs of wearing down.

Null Point Value: 15

[Do you want to offer Steel Fang to the Codex Null?]

"That’s it?" Noel muttered under his breath, blinking.

But while disappointed, thinking that he just got 15 Null Points for free... he shook his head in the end and agreed to offer it to the Codex Null.

The dagger began disintegrating almost immediately, breaking apart into fine fragments before it finally vanished.

And a new message appeared:

[You have received 15 Null Points.]

Noel didn’t stop there. He moved on and offered the remaining items as well.

[You have received 90 Null Points.]

[You have received 1 Null Point.]

[You have...]

[...]

And when nothing remained on the desk, Noel finally opened his status window.

[Status Window]

Name: Noel Cross

Age: 21

Overall Rank: 0 (Regressed)

Soul State: Refined (Damaged)

Laws:

Destruction – Inherited (Fragmented; in slow recovery)

Dominion – Inherited (Semi-Dormant)

Silence – Initial Understanding (Linked to the sealed relic)

Control – Inherited Fragments

Wood – Inherited Fragments

Relics: Hollow Scarf (Sealed)

Talent: Weak Soul Recovery (Seedling Talent), Endurance Bloom (Seedling Talent), Sixth Sense (Seedling Talent), Dense Bones (Rooted Talent), Martial Growth (Seedling Talent)

Null Points: 111

Free Simulations Remaining: 0

Noel’s eyes naturally drifted to the number beside Null Points.

111.

If he wanted to, he could simulate eleven times.

And at that thought... a small, imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

Then, his gaze moved to the rest of the status window — landing on his talents, now numbering five.

Finally, he looked toward his soul.

The Heavily Damaged...

Had become simply Damaged.

And that, somehow, felt more important than anything else.

Noel stared quietly at the screen, thinking of his plans... of what his next step would be.

And then, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

’Can I really simulate eleven more times today?’

Because... with how easily Null Points had been acquired, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a hidden limit.

Otherwise, with that many simulations... his soul was bound to heal.

And many things could be solved at once.

As he followed this train of thought, another idea surfaced.

Talents.

They always seemed to give him exactly what he needed.

Weak Soul Recovery, to help heal his soul.

Endurance Bloom, useful across the board — from training to fighting.

Sixth Sense, a natural warning system.

Dense Bones, tailored for the Blood Refinement Path and physical durability.

Martial Growth, to fight more efficiently.

Each one of them... even those he hadn’t selected himself, felt almost tailor-made.

And that couldn’t have been a coincidence.

So then, should he try spending 100 Null Points this time?

After all, given his current condition — whether related to body or soul — a high-ranking talent could very well be the solution.

Noel thought deeply about it.

But in the end, he still leaned toward quantity over quality when it came to simulations.

He already had an idea.

A possible solution to his body’s current problem, after all.

So, if he could solve it... with just 10 Null Points—

Then why should he waste 100?

Only when all his roads were closed...

Would Noel consider spending more.

That’s why, after a brief silence, he took out his phone and dialed a number he didn’t expect to call again this soon.

After barely two rings, the call was answered.

"Did you miss me already?" Serah’s voice came through — all sugar and spark.

But it didn’t elicit any real reaction from Noel. Not as much as the background noise pouring through the speaker — clattering, shouting, something cracking. His brow lifted slightly.

"...Are you in a battle?" he asked, his voice steady. "Should I call later?"

He was trying to be considerate.

But Serah just laughed — unbothered, delighted.

"Haha~ No, no, not a battle. Just a little tantrum from a jealous girlfriend."

The chaos on her end seemed to escalate with every passing second, yet her voice never wavered.

"She came storming in here, raving like I stole her boyfriend or cast some kind of love spell. It’s hilarious," Serah her voice bubbling with mischief and barely-contained amusement. "Apparently, his gaze toward her suddenly changed. And of course, I’m the reason."

She clicked her tongue. Something shattered in the background.

"I mean — how dare I exist and be this radiant, right?"

Her tone curled into mock sincerity, dripping with theatrical innocence. And Noel could practically hear the smirk tugging at her lips.

"She’s screaming like I stole him. But really, if the leash on her man is that flimsy... is it my fault?"

Another peal of laughter burst through the line — bright and sharp, like firecrackers.

"She’s mad, mad, mad! I haven’t even laid a finger on her precious prince... just a kiss, and still — boom! Knock, rage, drama!" Her voice rose in pure exhilaration. "Does that make any sense to you?"

She asked the question like it was genuine, like she truly wanted his opinion.

But Noel didn’t respond. He simply listened.

"I swear, I’m doing her a favor. I could’ve killed her. But look at me — merciful, graceful, practically a saint."

A beat of silence passed.

Then, in a voice soaked with mock pity:

"Honestly... it’s not my fault I’m the prettier prize."

She kept going... all while a single thought went through Noel’s mind.

’It’s Selena... right?’

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