Master of Pretense (3)
I furrowed my brow as I sketched the blueprint for the bracelet. Unlike the last one I'd slapped together haphazardly, this time I planned to do it right.
Now that I could use super regeneration, I still wanted to avoid the agony of my arm searing every time I activated the bracelet.
Sure, the number of mana circuits I could handle had increased, but wasting one on fire resistance felt inefficient. Better to make full use of them properly.
It shouldn't be too thick, and ideally, easy to recharge with mana stone powder.
My wishlist was growing. Still, after mulling it over, I figured I could find a way.
This version came with a laundry list of improvements.
First off, I'd thin out the bracelet. The original had been way too bulky—heavy as hell, and once it heated up, it took forever to cool down.
That was unavoidable with the mold-casting method. This time, I'd hammer the metal by hand to shape it. Tougher, sure, but if I took my time processing the metal, stretched it as thin as possible, and wrapped it to fit my arm perfectly, it should work.
Recharge method needed an overhaul too.
Mana stone powder was portable, but it scattered everywhere during filling, forcing me to stop and tilt a potion bottle carefully. That's how Park Sang-pyeon had caught me recharging.
This time, I'd design it to slot in whole mana stones. Etch dense mana circuits inside the slot, and it could extract mana efficiently without crushing them.
I was deep into the bracelet blueprint when Ray sounded the alarm.
"Someone's nearby."
Ray's words made me squint. I couldn't sense a thing.
'You sure?'
"Yeah! They're poking around near this mountain range."
I hurriedly donned my mask and stepped outside. Following Ray's guidance downward, I spotted a man cloaked in a black robe.
"Who are you?"
Unsure of his identity, I kept it polite. The robed figure turned toward me and rasped in a gravelly voice.
"Hah, what an honor. To meet the infamous Beltsmets in the flesh."
With that, he flicked his hand, scattering something red before my eyes.
"Ring any bells?"
The crimson blood magic circle hovering in front of me made my face harden. Blood Demon Chumageol. Just as I'd suspected—a Tower member had come recruiting.
Those born with black magic weren't rare, just uncommon. Unlike other mana, black magic's ties to death gave it a rotten reputation.
Korea's top Hunter Academy, Babel, outright banned black magic users from enrolling.
But it hadn't always been that stigmatized. The one who tanked black magic's image in Korea was none other than the black-robed figure before me: Blood Demon Chumageol.
He wielded his mana to manipulate blood, pioneering his unique blood demon arts—a genius in his craft.
Yet I felt no awe staring him down.
To refine his blood-mediated magic, Chumageol had walked the path of mass murder, slaughtering countless victims to harvest and hoard their blood.
Over three decades, his kill count was estimated to run into the tens of thousands.
That was how he'd become a master of blood magic.
And how he'd tracked me...
"You followed my blood?"
"Yeah."
Just the blood I'd left at the Park Sang-pyeon fight site—that alone had led Chumageol here.
A droplet of my blood swirled at his fingertip.
His blood mastery was absurd. Even days-old traces from a battlefield, and he could extract just mine like this?
"Creepy as hell, even for you."
"Fair enough. No need to hold onto it now that we're face-to-face."
Chumageol waved it away into mist. Pure showmanship—he could recall it in an instant if he wanted.
I nodded as if appreciating the gesture.
"So, what brings the Blood Demon all the way out here?"
I pressed on casually.
"Really? You have no idea? I figured it was obvious."
Chumageol leaned in.
"But coming out to greet me like this means you're not thrilled about my visit."
"Can't help being wary when I don't know your game."
Without Ray, he might've reached our base. The chill ran down my spine. We'd layered stealth and concealment, but Chumageol was the first to track us this far.
A surge of crisis sharpened my nerves.
Concealment wouldn't fool a powerhouse like him completely. If he sniffed out the 'blood' inside, we were done.
I swept my hand, raising earth into a table and two chairs. Chumageol let out an impressed whistle.
"Thought you only handled water and lightning."
Shit.
"Forgot to hide it?"
Too much recent tinkering in the workshop—I'd used earth so casually it slipped out. But I played it cool.
"Never said a word. People just assumed."
"Hah! True enough. Everyone yaps without knowing shit."
Atmosphere was decent. Chumageol settled into the chair I'd made.
I took the one opposite.
"Straight to it: join the Tower."
Not a question—a decree. I shot back.
"Straight answer: no thanks."
"What?"
Chumageol sounded dumbfounded. Clearly hadn't seen that coming.
Villains dreamed of Tower glory, and there were no obligations once in. No reason to refuse.
"Cheeky bastard."
Ominous aura flared around him.
"Don't think recruitment means I won't kill you."
"Why recruit me in the first place?"
My calm question deflated him; he sighed.
"Hunters form guilds and such. Why shouldn't we band together?"
But the answer was obvious.
"Sorry, still passing."
The Tower didn't fit my goals—no leash needed.
Chumageol pressed.
"...Why?"
"No reason to join."
"Hah! Arrogant!"
"Call it what you want. That's my honest take."
He stared, speechless. Made sense—first time someone politely turned him down.
Yeah, I had zero plans to piss off this old geezer.
Chumageol was bad enough, but crossing him would bring the whole Tower. Beltsmets would vanish overnight.
But joining? That handed me to Seol Rokjin on a platter. The Tower had ties to him, no doubt.
I told Chumageol,
"You're strong, sure. But our affinities clash hard."
He shut his mouth.
Water and lightning I'd shown? Both hard counters. I could freeze or electrocute his blood.
Sparks gathered at my fingertips.
"Don't want beef with the Tower. Or any interest, really. I've got my own path."
"Tower guarantees freedom."
"Then guarantee mine. I don't wanna join."
Chumageol eyed the crackling sparks, groaned. No pushback—my talents unnerved him.
Fighting meant risking death, and my polite vibe muddied the waters. I'd treated him with respect. Hard to justify murder over a rejection.
"Kids these days got no manners."
He stood.
"Sorry to waste your trip."
"Whatever, punk."
Chumageol glared.
"Tower's watching you now."
I dispersed the lightning. Solid exit. He left down the mountain, warning delivered.
Once he was gone, Ray chimed in.
"That could've gone south if he'd fought."
'I'd be dead.'
Without the bracelet, I'd get crushed.
"Gotta finish this bracelet fast."
Urgency spiked.
Chumageol glanced back.
"Cheeky little shit—one foot in manners, one out."
And weirdly devoid of malice. His voice stayed even. Facing Blood Demon Chumageol—even throwing veiled threats—no tremor.
Just annoyance.
Annoyance at having to deal with him personally.
The polite honorifics? Probably to dodge hassle.
He'd never feared Chumageol. His 'fear' was rote politeness—no real dread aimed his way.
'Used earth too.'
Showing off.
Dual talents already elite worldwide. Add a third? Or more?
Chumageol had no choice but to play along, swallow his pride, and leave on the 'gracious' terms.
"Cheeky."
He muttered. Back at the Tower, embarrassment choked him. He'd assumed acceptance.
"Refused outright."
"What? Guy's nuts?"
Plenty joined and slacked; none openly snubbed it.
"Hah! Fun one."
Gemini cackled.
"Even after you went? What happened? Smack him down?"
Her eyes sparkled eagerly. From the corner, Puppeteer drawled.
"Couldn't. You'd lose."
"I wouldn't lose!"
Puppeteer smirked. Old rivals. The usually silent woman ribbed him deliberately.
"Yeah, affinities suck. Lightning, ice."
Gemini added. Chumageol piled on.
"And earth."
"Huh?"
"Moved earth right in front of me."
Silence blanketed the Tower.
"Triple talents. Or one freakishly versatile one."
Beltsmets' name had spread abroad. Started in Korea, exploded with Teika Cooper. Then the Park Sang-pyeon brawl hit airwaves.
Live fights were rare.
Even Chinese broadcasts now buzzed with it.
Beltsmets, Korea's rising villain force.
[Korea...]
A girl's face lit up at the name.
[Korea.]
Suo Haozhu's eyes gleamed.