Chapter 359
Chapter 359
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.75 – The Gear Declares (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In the past—no, in his previous life—his superior, Dugogo Gupae, was the type who watched anything if it was entertaining, regardless of genre. He even called himself a "hillbilly."
Well, Lee Han, who hung out with a guy like that, wasn't in any position to judge.
However, there was one genre even that man avoided...
"Ah, this is a revenge story."
"Don't you like revenge stories?"
"I do, but I don't like romance novel-style revenge stories. The methods just don't sit right with me."
"What about it makes even the great Brother Dugogo skip them?"
"Hmm, to sum it up, high-status folks like emperors, kings, or empresses often show up as villains. They torment the protagonist from childhood—killing their parents, abusing them, and escalating to torture, burning at the stake, dismemberment, all that unspeakable suffering."
"Just hearing it gives me rage-induced illness..."
"Right? But what's even more infuriating? In the end, the romance novel protagonist forgives the villain or just imprisons them, calling it revenge."
"Suddenly feels stuffy in here."
"Me too. And what's stuffier is that they think it's revenge. From my view, it's not at all."
"Our platoon's philosophy guy said, while watching trashy dramas, that they write those weird endings because everyone's subjective views and philosophies differ..."
"Looks like my philosophy can't accept that stuff."
"Hmm, so what do you think revenge should be, brother?"
"Well... First, you make them wish they were dead."
"?"
"You pull out all their teeth. Then yank out every hair to make them bald, and turn them into a mortar target! That rotten battalion commander bastard!"
"...The conversation suddenly veered off weirdly..."
Even though he argued back, deep down, Lee Han agreed with Dugogo Gupae.
Yes, revenge needs that refreshing punch.
Why should status make a difference?
That's why—
'Brother Dugogo, are you watching?'
Lee Han felt a fresh surge of emotion.
Who would've thought he'd actually do that conversation he'd only imagined.
Thwack! Thwack-thwack! Thwack!!
'And get to experience it for real.'
Plink, plop—
Watching the teeth come out one by one filled him with a proud sense of accomplishment, like fulfilling his past superior's dream. A warm smile naturally formed on Lee Han's face. Ignoring whatever the man was mumbling, Lee Han focused on his task.
Thwack!
'Oh, this guy had four wisdom teeth, huh.'
He occasionally marveled at his own extraction skills.
Rumble!
The knights flooded into the banquet hall.
White Silver Lion Knights.
The entire 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Orders, who didn't get along, had come together in urgency. They were too pale to even feel displeased about uniting.
And how could they not be?
'This is insane, totally insane! What the hell is this!?'
'I-I must've misheard. No way, it can't be true—how could that happen in the middle of the palace, in the banquet hall of all places!'
'The servants must've seen wrong. Yeah!'
The White Silver Lions denied reality, but they ended up seeing it for themselves and realized the servant's frantic report was true.
Thwack! Thwaaack!!
...Someone was getting beaten.
By whom?
"Ughhh...!"
......King Edmund.
"........."
The already pale knights' faces drained of blood, turning ghostly white.
It was that unbelievable a sight. They wanted to deny reality.
Of course. Because the one beating the king right now was...
"So it was you guys? Wait a bit. I've still got a dozen teeth left to pull."
...a knight in White Silver Lion dress uniform.
The most famous—and infamous—White Silver Lion Knight, the low-born Lee Han Turtle.
He was pummeling the king.
...But isn't something off?
No nobles or knights in the banquet hall, not even the loyal soldiers or servants, were stopping him.
Maybe he threatened them?
"Hmm..."
"That looks painful..."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
...It seemed like everyone was just pretending not to notice.
Like they were watching someone else shoulder what they couldn't do themselves.
The White Silver Lions, still unable to grasp the situation, felt dizzy when—
"B-But, sh-shouldn't we, uh, sa-save His Majesty...?"
"......"
"Wh-Why's everyone just st-standing there?"
"...So you wanna."
"......"
"Charge at that guy? Unless you're crazy."
"......True."
"Besides..."
Crack!!
"There's gotta be a good reason he's doing that."
The White Silver Lions, sworn to the king, knew they should be furious at the assault on him, but strangely, they just felt perplexed—no urge to intervene.
Was it because they feared Lee Han Turtle's power?
No, not that.
They had pride and arrogance about their status, but their self-respect wasn't so shallow as to bend to force.
They'd step up to protect it, even if it killed them.
Yet the reason they didn't was because they'd already "seen."
—The knight who boldly fought the archdemon, acknowledged by the holy relic, favored by the saintess.
Thus.
'There must be a reason, right?'
He'd shown it through actions and results.
What knighthood truly meant.
"......Ahem."
The knights chose to observe for now.
For the moment.
'He won't kill him, he won't...'
The knights chose to stand by.
'Wh-Why won't you save Us!!'
Amid the agony racking his body and the horrific pain of his teeth being yanked, Edmund glared at the knights with hazy eyes, resenting them.
Most would lose their minds in such torment, but as the knights said, though he lacked a king's vessel, Edmund was reasonably resilient.
Perhaps it was the toughness of Pendragon blood.
But right now, Edmund felt no gratitude or respect for his lineage. He just found the situation, the knights, and the watching retainers utterly loathsome!
'You filthy traitors!!'
As King Edmund inwardly spat curses full of hatred—
"Tough one, aren't you? Most knights would pass out or go delirious, but your eyes are still full of venom."
"!?!"
"Funny, isn't it? You're safe thanks to the Pendragon mystery you called cursed."
"Y-You bastard..."
Five teeth left.
His speech was slurred, but Edmund glared at the knight with venomous eyes full of hate.
No hint of remorse.
Just resentment.
The knight didn't avoid that gaze.
To accept the resentment?
...The knight wasn't that kind to hated foes.
"What're you glaring at?"
Poke!
"Ughhhh!!"
King Edmund's eyes erupted in burning pain, like severe burns.
He hadn't been poked in the eye.
Instead, the muscles around his eyes and face were manipulated.
Though that would bring pain like his eyes bursting.
"Service extra."
Ziiiiing!!
Noise assaulted his ears next.
Like dozens of insects crawling inside. He couldn't even breathe through his nose.
Crack! Crack-crack!!
It was the pinnacle of body manipulation. Without profound knowledge of the minute muscles forming the face, even holy arts couldn't fix it.
Why?
'Because it's using this guy's blinking and swallowing to apply pressure.'
Not magic, fighting technique, curse, or holy art—just intricate muscle control.
No master who'd perfected tendon-severing, bone-crushing, reverse manipulation, etc., to the extreme could undo it. Calling it a curse wasn't exaggeration.
"You know, you worthless scum. About those slaves kidnapped by the Blood Crusade forces you revived 30 years ago for human experiments? Most died at the hands of rogue mages, and the dead kids numbered in the thousands to tens of thousands?"
"Ugh!?"
"Later investigations showed only one in thirty survived the experiments. And that survivor? Me."
"!!!!"
Edmund's eyes widened.
Or tried to—his eye muscles wouldn't obey, so he barely squinted with convulsions.
"Unbelievable, right? I thought so too. Didn't expect the culprit this close."
Plop.
The last tooth was pulled. Edmund felt like he might die.
A little more pressure, and cardiac arrest.
"Can't have that."
Thud-!
"Uwoooo!!??"
The knight kindly protected his heart and vital organs.
Using his own 'power.'
"Don't die. You need to live long. Scream more, right?"
The knight's tone was worldly gentle.
Blessing Edmund's health.
"Lots left to do. Last year, my kids nearly died because of you. Gotta pay that back too. Where do you think you're ending it?"
Like praying he'd live long, with zero intent to let him die easy.
And so...
"Ah, now let's pluck that lush hair. Too full, you punk."
......Edmund thought of death for the first time.