Chapter 262
Chapter 262
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 262
Chapter Title: Those Martial Arts Guys
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His confidence was just overflowing.
I'd calmly assessed his full strength. He was a guy in his early thirties with impressively trained muscles. Of course, they weren't quite on my level.
His hair was yellow, and his beard looked prickly, like he'd shaved it just a couple of days ago.
Overall, he looked like someone who'd thrown a decent number of punches in his life.
"Hah. Who else can we trust if not our instructors? Fine. Pick a representative from the two of you and send him out."
The guild master said that and sat back down on the sofa.
"I'm Michael."
"I'm Teron."
The two unarmed fighting instructors stepped up in front of me.
It was annoying how certain they were of victory, but their attitudes were pretty serious and polite, so I exchanged simple greetings with them. I told them I'd fight whichever of the two was stronger.
At that, the pair started whispering something to each other behind me. Probably deciding who would face me. While I waited, I went over to the guild master's side on the sofa.
"You sure about this? Even if your mid-level instructor is strong, taking on five low-level ones at once doesn't look winnable."
I can do it.
But those guys couldn't.
She turned her head to look me up and down, covering the cleavage she'd been showing off with her hand, and spoke curtly.
"You. You talk a big game for how you look."
"What's wrong with how I look?"
"And you were begging earlier, but now your attitude flips in an instant."
"No reason to bend anymore."
There's no reason to bend at all.
"I'll win."
I win.
"...Tch. Don't think fighting five weaklings is the same as facing one strong guy. You? Beat a mid-level and an advanced instructor? That cocky attitude ends here. It'll be fun to watch you eat those words when you lose. Get ready to get wrecked."
"Sorry to disappoint."
I rolled my shoulders and did some quick stretches.
"The Heavenly Demon Kim Katt."
Doesn't fight battles he can lose.
"Might run,"
If it looks like I'll lose, I run. If defeat seems likely, I bolt. And so I only fight battles I can win. That's me, the Heavenly Demon Kim Katt.
"But never loses."
For someone like me to commit to the fight.
Proves there's a path to victory.
The opponent was decided.
It was Michael.
The squinty-eyed short guy who'd introduced himself as Teron just went back to his spot and sat in a formal position. Yeah, Michael looked stronger at a glance, no doubt.
"...Even if you win, there's still an advanced instructor left. Instructor Michael, I don't think you'll lose. Give it your all. The guild's pride is on the line."
"Got it."
I stepped right into the center of the gym with Michael.
"Swordsman. I get that you've trained in unarmed fighting. But it's unstructured. Maybe with a sword, but bare-handed? I don't see you winning."
He grinned slyly as he said it.
Unstructured?
I had no idea where this guy's confidence came from.
"Talk's cheap. You got real combat experience?"
But he didn't look like a killer, no matter how I sized him up.
I've got a good eye for this. I've been a killer, hung out with killers, and can spot non-killers a mile away.
Michael was safe, if anything.
"Plenty—"
—clang!
The gong rang out then,
and
—bam.
I kicked off the ground, planning to end it quick with a burst of speed. A bit of mana drain to smash him in one go. To beat an advanced instructor, I needed to go bold.
Suffer a little loss for the win.
Aiming for his jaw.
"—I'm not done talking!"
—whoosh!
The punch I threw confidently sliced through empty air. Not sure if he saw my move and dodged or predicted the trajectory, but he evaded it anyway.
More solid than I thought.
I prepped a follow-up combo right away.
"My turn now, swordsman!"
He went for a counter after dodging, whipping out a fast punch. I shifted my footwork, closing in on his body and blocking the strike with my left arm.
—thwack!
The fist slamming into my forearm hurt like hell.
No gauntlets makes this such bullshit, folks!
"What?!"
His counter failed, and he scrambled into a defensive stance.
—I always fight expecting the enemy to dodge and counter.
Attacks don't land 100% of the time; enemies are always ready. You have to keep thinking nonstop. Stop thinking, and you're stabbed and done.
Swordsmen live on the edge of the blade.
One slip, and you're dead.
One mistake, dead.
So to survive, you guard against errors and refine your skills.
My senses, honed by murder and mana, lose to nothing.
"You thought you could strut in front of me with that level of skill?"
Elbow, forearm, wrist, fingers. Channel mana. Trained muscles. Mana soaked into bones and flesh. It condenses, compresses,
then explodes in an instant.
"Asura Blood Palm."
—boom!
The pile-driver fist slammed into Michael's side. Swordsmen always think five moves ahead. Counter the counter.
Michael was greener than me.
You martial artists don't know true life-or-death fights. Sure, you'd grab some punk, beat him to death, kill him. But that savagery doesn't match getting slashed.
So, I win.
"Gah!"
He spat out his breath and retreated six paces fast, resetting his stance. The sensation lingering in my fist was no joke... critical hit.
At least a cracked rib.
"How's the rib? If it's broken, rip it out and make an Eve outta it, punk. Get yourself a girlfriend."
"Urgh...! Faster than I thought!"
"Than you thought?"
—whoosh whoosh!
"Take thiiiis—!!!"
I spun my fists like windmills and charged him. Panic flashed in his eyes. This violent technique from the Real Murder Fist Law—one of its ridiculous moves, sure.
But the strength of the Real Murder Fist Law is 'variation.'
This was a feint.
Daze the enemy's eyes, then switch to a lethal Heavenly Demon Divine Art! He braced for a counter, just as planned! His punch was coming straight for my face!
Idiot! You fell for it!
I was baiting that counter!
"M-Michael! It's a feint!"
Mariel yelled then.
Damn it, bitch, don't say that!
"A feint...! Got it!"
"Shit!"
I was about to unleash the ultimate secret art, Rear Naked Choke, but Michael caught on and dodged quick.
"Hey, you bitch Mariel! You're dead after this, you cunt! Butting into my fight!"
"Uh, uh...! S-Sorry! It slipped out!"
"Slipped? Fuck off!"
"Sorry! I apologize! Wasn't on purpose!"
This fucking bitch!
—whoosh!
"Eyes front!"
Michael seized the opening with a kick. Fancy footwork. Tricky trajectory. Better at kicks than Mariel?
I started to block with my arm but hesitated.
Shit. No gauntlet.
"Fucking laughable, you prick!"
Furious, I surged forward with Heavenly Demon Supremacy Step and drove a Heavenly Demon Heaven-Shatter Palm into his chest!
—thud!
"KyaAAAAHHH—!!!"
This fucker! Why dodge? Rush in before it lands—no need to evade! A guy with a critical side wound kicking like a sparrow leg—pathetic!
—boom!
The murderous Heavenly Demon Heaven-Shatter Palm's shockwave sent Michael flying into the wall. —Drip. He slid down like a rag tossed at a window.
Oh shit!
Pissed off, I lost mana control for a sec!
Mana drained out in a rush, blurring my vision briefly.
Fuck... this'll make the advanced one rough.
"I-Instructor Michael!"
"Sent flying by a fist strike...!"
"Advanced instructor level! He's advanced level!"
"Incredible unarmed fighting...!"
The martial artists gasped in admiration as I checked Michael's state. No way he's dead? —Cough! Spitting blood—he's alive. Close call, fuck. Mariel nearly fucked me over big time.
As long as he's not dead.
Anyway, I won.
I shook my head wildly and bellowed.
"I win!"
The guild's mid-level unarmed instructor wasn't my match.
"Survivors of the Blade Mountain Sword Forest find this lukewarm duel mere child's play! No true master? No one to fell this Heavenly Demon with pure 'unarmed strikes' instead of 'weapons'!"
I mixed in some bravado to show I was still going strong.
"Guild master! Bring the advanced instructor!"
"..."
The guild master didn't answer.
She stared at me with a grave expression.
Looked utterly shocked.
"And Mariel, you come out after I finish this prick!"
"Wh-Why? Aren't we friends like you said? Don't talk so scary!"
"Friends? Fuck off, you psycho bitch!"
"Eek!"
That bitch messed up my mana control.
This might be tough. Could even lose... damn it! Critical mistake! Battle high faded fast, anxiety creeping in.
Mana drain side effect.
Less than half left, sapping my courage.
"...Didn't see this coming. Thought you didn't have much mana, so you'd fizzle out... You. Got great mana control."
Spot on.
Or rather, she'd gauged my mana pool?
That's why she underestimated me. My tank's pathetically small. Just compensating with control.
True experts are experts.
"So. Where's the advanced instructor?"
"Take a breather. Bringing her soon."
Not here?
"Not here?"
"Out somewhere."
"Then can I go? If not here, we're done."
"Nonsense. And you. Still think you can walk out?"
The guild master narrowed her eyes like a snake.
What, lynch me to death? Scary as fuck.
"Said you'd let me go if I beat the advanced one. Backing out? In front of everyone?"
"Backing out? Of course not. But you gotta beat the advanced instructor first. Mariel. Fetch her."
"Y-Yes!"
Mariel saluted like a soldier and bolted out the door. Her? Advanced instructor's a woman? Great. Boosts my odds a bit.
"Rest up. Mariel'll bring her."
"Heh, think I can rest? Might recover stamina."
No real spot to rest, so I plopped down by the guild master.
"...Advanced instructor's beyond you anyway. Drop the attitude and brace for a beating."
She kinda reminds me of Karin.
Karin's openly brash; this one's pretending classy but still brash.
"Wait, your speech and vibe—why so like our guild master?"
"Wh-What? Bullshit!"
Her yelling confirmed it.
I hyped the mood and said,
"Guild master. How about letting me go now? This started 'cause of your screw-up, and we've done enough. Honestly, you're just piling on an innocent guy to cover the guild's mess. You know it's bullshit."
Trying to persuade her.
No point fighting more.
Full tank, maybe. But half-drained now? Odds not great. Advanced one's leagues above the mid-level punks.
"Quit before more embarrassment. I'll keep quiet. What if I beat the advanced one too?"
"Smooth talker. Yeah, it's thug shit, I admit. But some things trump common sense."
"Like what?"
"Close."
The guild master whispered.
I leaned in. Hot breath on my ear... she paused, then murmured,
"Money."
Knew she got it.
"Money."
Money over sense.
"Can't overlook a threat to my rice bowl."
She pulled back, smirking.
"..."
"She's here."
The door opened. Mariel entered with someone.
Flaming crimson hair down to her shoulders, wild vibe. Athletic build like a red-maned lioness.
—Red cheongsam.
Blue eyes cold as a killer's, vertical scar by her eye. Self-inflicted? Ex-slasher turned martial artist?
"Lizette. No chit-chat. Wreck this guy."
My alertness screamed max danger.
Stomach dropping, heart about to shatter.
She traced my face with a finger as the guild master added,
"You'll lose, but kinda looking forward to it. Want to live? Win."
This...
If I don't muster every ounce, even the power stored in my ballsack wrinkles.
—I lose.
Get utterly wrecked.