Chapter 200
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Lawless
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The number of martial artists who had gathered was over ten.
They filled the alleyway completely—countless robe-wearing fighters swarming in. Each one was equipped with brutal martial artist class weapons like knuckles, claws, or gauntlets.
A palpable killing intent.
Overflowing violence.
The man who looked like their leader, a muscle-bound criminal, stepped forward in front of me.
"Let go of that kid."
His torn-sleeved robe seemed to scream of his training level. Well-balanced muscles. An arrogant stance. I had no idea if his skills matched that attitude, but for some reason...
I wasn't scared at all.
Smack!
"Gah!"
Instead of answering, I backhanded Serka across the cheek. The martial artists erupted in curses and murmurs.
"...You bastard!"
"Hey."
I spoke up.
"This is an old story, but have you heard the rumor about some sword punk getting his ass handed to him by a gang of martial artists? You know, the one where he ran his mouth off in front of a tavern."
It was so famous even Karin knew about it. Considering swordsmen and martial artists didn't get along, they were probably bragging about it among themselves as a heroic tale.
Martial artists never forget a grudge.
And I, Kim Katt, was one of them.
"...That was."
The guy thought for a moment, then glared at me.
"You?"
He said it in a grave tone, like he had pieced it together.
But he was misunderstanding something. This mess wasn't about that incident. It was purely personal grudge against Serka.
"So, you beat the crap out of those two earlier and tried to kidnap the kid too?"
"No, you got it wrong. I've got a personal beef with Serka. Those two just got caught up in it. On their own two feet, even."
"A grudge? I can't fathom what grudge you could have with a little kid like that. Doesn't matter anyway. If you don't release her right now, you'll face the wrath of us martial artists."
"Heh heh heh, wrath."
Discussing wrath right in front of me?
I glanced at Serka's face. Even with all these comrades here to save her, when our eyes met, she was just frozen in terror. "Hey." She trembled at my call.
"Serka. Who do you think wins?"
"..."
"Who do you think wins?"
Serka couldn't answer in the end.
Frustrated, I slammed a gut punch into her. Thud! My fist sank deep into her abdomen. She vomited stomach acid once and passed out, collapsing.
"You crazy bastard!"
I won't dodge.
I won't run.
I won't tuck tail or back down.
As a martial artist,
all I can do is converse with fists.
"Keep yapping."
I hurled the unconscious Serka aside.
"Come at me, you vermin."
I assumed the Execution Fist Technique stance and declared it.
Now, my opponents were the horde of martial artists.
"Fuck! Guys! Kill him!"
Roooaaar!!!
The battle cry exploded.
It was a tidal wave of muscle, literally.
In English, a Muscle-Tsunami.
Like crashing waves, massive protein walls charged at me, yearning to unleash their fist and kick techniques.
Inner World.
I drew up my mana.
Spread the surging mana throughout my body. My senses sharpened. My body lightened. My muscles grew heavier at the same time... Overlaying my inner world onto reality.
"I am."
The first to charge was their leader, the one I'd been talking to. Fists seemed to be his specialty—his twisted torso and bulging arm muscles were impressive.
Veins bulging like they might burst, proving his power.
"The Heavenly Demon."
But.
"Kim Katt."
Too many openings.
No way I'd get hit by that.
Flash!
I seized the initiative. He'd probably thought he'd attacked first. But I was faster than the charging fool, diving straight at him.
"...What?!"
His face twisted in shock.
Execution Fist Technique and Execution Step Method. Unlike the martial artists' techniques, mine were refined for lethal combat—no gaps, no wasted movements.
Of course I was faster.
"Heavenly Demon Shattering Heaven Palm."
From my dive, I unleashed an uppercut into his exposed jaw. Crack! My gauntlet-enhanced punch shattered his jaw. Blood and teeth sprayed. He floated briefly in the air before crashing backward.
"Impossible!!"
"Jonathan!!"
Over a dozen enraged martial artists lost their minds and charged wildly. I stepped back, twisted my waist, and deflected a claw strike with my gauntlet. Spark! Sparks flew as the claw grazed my shoulder plate.
"One Step Divine Fist."
I advanced, kneeing him in the solar plexus. "Gack!" I grabbed the collapsing guy and shoved him into an incoming puncher. They tangled and fell.
Weak.
Too weak.
Objectively, they were all E-rank adventurer level at best. Just a notch above Serka. No way these small fries could beat me, who's reached transcendence.
One of the faster ones kicked at me.
But slower than a dryad.
I sidestepped. His missed kick slammed into another martial artist. "Hng!" Joint techniques are advanced skills. Not something amateurs can pull off in a group fight.
Dodge attacks.
Deflect with armor.
"You lot!"
Punch out, kick in.
"Are too weak!"
I wouldn't lose even if a truckload of these guys came at me!
"Grk!!"
"Aaaargh!!"
In an instant, five martial artists were wrecked and sprawled out. At that point, the remaining ones stared at me with awe and fear.
"Wh... What was that technique?! Never seen it before!"
A knuckle-wearing martial artist asked, posed like a soaring crane. Drip, drip. Blood ran down my fist to the ground. I grinned with an iron tang and told him.
"Execution Fist Technique."
"What?"
"Remember it."
Whoosh!
I charged in a surprise attack.
"Uwaaak!"
"And this is Taekwondo."
My omnipotent kick swept the ground and slammed into a martial artist's back. Taekwondo was a killing art adopted by the military as standard. Though this was a technique I'd created myself, it was no less worthy of the name.
"R-Run, everyone!!! He's not someone we can handle!!! Call the masters!!!"
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!!!!!"
"And this."
The despairing martial artists screamed for their gods and mothers as they fled. But I hadn't shown everything yet.
"Is Heavenly Demon Divine Art."
I leaped like a frog, tackling one full-body and using my weight and momentum to slam him face-first into the ground.
"Agh! Let go! Get off me!"
"Rear Naked Choke."
"Hrrk!!!"
By the time he foamed at the mouth and passed out from the secret technique, it was over. I stood triumphant, stomping on the backs of the bloodied, sprawled martial artists. Standing over their broken, crushed bodies felt pretty damn good.
Whoooosh.
The wind blew, tousling my hair.
"My victory."
I immediately rifled through the fallen guys' pockets, looting their wallets.
Whatever happened next, shit had hit the fan. No telling what might come, so grab what I could and bail fast.
Serka was a shame to lose, but like they said, if the dojo masters showed up, even I'd be in trouble.
I'm the type who goes on a one-man rampage against weaklings I can handle, not someone who enjoys fighting obviously badass foes.
I didn't check the amounts.
Seven downed guys meant seven wallets.
With the fight over, the spectators who'd been hiding in alley corners finally scattered. Among the passersby were vagrants and beggars trying to strip the unconscious martial artists or snag their knuckles and claws.
"Hey! Fuck! Who said you could touch them?!"
I kicked the side of a half-naked guy gleefully removing a gauntlet.
"Kyaek!"
I didn't care about knuckles or claws, but gauntlets were pricey. Who does this punk think he is, taking my stuff? I snatched the gauntlet and bolted full-speed from the scene.
Looking back, more people had swarmed in to strip the martial artists as soon as I left. Fine, crows can pick at the carcass after the main event's gone.
That's the law.
Tap tap tap!
I raced through the streets.
An unbearable joy welled up in my chest.
Anything else, but scoring seven wallets? They jingled, hinting at the haul. Counting them with Cloddy back at the inn would be pure bliss.
After running a while, shouts rang out.
"There! That's him!"
"Already found?!"
The martial artist network was no joke!
Robed mobs from everywhere pointed and charged at me! I checked their vibe while running. No masters yet...? Just locals who'd heard the rumors.
Why are there so many of these fuckers?
Need to seriously investigate sometime.
"Haa! Fuck off!"
"Eek!!"
Running low on time, I drew my sword and slashed wildly, breaking through the martial artists blocking the way. Terrified by the violent momentum, the robed guys parted.
Swords are the best, after all.
"Stop!"
"Fuck off!"
Rumble!
Their numbers had swelled to twenty! These cockroach bastards! Even I had no answer for that many!
What to do with these fuckers!
"Shit!"
A curse burst out!
Should've run faster without posing!
I scanned for escape routes.
Back to the inn? No, they'd track my place. With Cloddy's temper, daily door-banging from these assholes could spark a murder. She's sweet to me, brutal to everyone else.
Knocking them out's fine, but killing brings investigations and trouble.
"Then!"
Swordsmen's Guild it is!
They'll protect me!
Right then.
"You're surrounded!"
"These dickheads!"
Martial artists encircled the alleys from all sides. Where the hell do they keep coming from? I knew there were many, but this is ridiculous!
"Drop the sword and surrender peacefully!"
The one who said it was a voluptuous blonde in a white robe like a qipao. Empty hands, sturdy boots—probably a kick specialist.
She blocked my path.
And more kept pouring in... Finally surrounded. About twenty? Same level as the first batch, but double the number.
Can I break through?
"I said drop the sword, barbarian!!!"
"Who're you calling barbarian, you bitch!!!!"
Do they only know that word when they see my face!!!!! Only Kobson gets to call me that!!!!
A vertigo-inducing rage hit me. I seriously considered dyeing my hair. Fine. I'm not that guy anymore. If they want a fight, I'll give it.
I am the Heavenly Demon, Kim Katt.
The supreme being beyond the heavens never turns from battle!
"Swarms like insects! Come! Charge! Show me your martial prowess!"
Shing!
That woman looked like a pro kicker, so no more pure fist-and-kick stuff. I raised my sword and unleashed Execution Sword Dance to show my true power.
Screeech!
Slash!
Whooosh!
It was a dance offered to the War God.
My sword dance, infused with all my experience and skill, tore through the air.
Halfway through, I got lost in my own sword dance.
The sword's feel in my hands reassured me more than anything. With a sword, as long as I can cut my foes...
Nothing to fear.
I charged to break the encirclement.
"Kieeeek!!!"
"Hng!"
The martial artists facing me faltered at the momentum.
"He's insane!!!"
"Run awaaaay!!!"