Chapter 340
Chapter 340
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 340
Chapter Title: Those Barbarian Bastards
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"You dog bitch!"
"Fuckhead!"
"Crazy savage fuck!"
"You goddamn cow-titted slut!"
—Woo, woo!
—Die, die!
—Kill 'em!
The evil slum fuckers surrounding us started spewing every filthy curse in the book, throwing a total shitfit.
These goddamn assholes must've heard the rumors about us fighting—probably figured the back-alley grudgefest with that Rijet bitch was their chance to show up.
Calling me a black savage bastard and all that crap, they had to be the guys I beat down before, or their dead buddies' crews. Friends and family mixed in too, looks like... Did I just get unlucky? Main grudge is probably on Rijet, though.
This is some seriously fucked territory.
They were probably watching our fight from the sidelines, waiting till we both looked beat to shit before crawling out.
Makes sense—if we're both this wrecked, they've got a shot.
True to form, these weakling-hating passive skill masters grovel to the strong but turn into ten-thousand-man generals the second they smell weakness.
That's exactly who I model myself after.
"Everyone! Today we beat that red bitch to death!"
"Beat to death? Fuck that, idiot! Make her pop out as many as we kill!"
"Stuff her front and back!"
"Front and back? Nah, ram all three holes at once and wreck her pussy!"
"Fuck, that cow-titted slut! Rip those udders clean off!"
"Shove her in a whorehouse and pound her day and night!"
"Chop the limbs first!"
Easy to see there were at least two squads' worth of 'em.
Blinded by rabid rage, they hurled every vile sexual harassment and dick joke at Rijet while waving sickles and hammers like commie revolutionaries. Knew her over-the-top sexiness would bite her in the ass like this.
And how much hell did they raise in the slums for even the kids to turn out like this? Must've stacked up some serious grudges hustling for pocket change.
"Hey, hey... Rijet. These fuckers seem real interested in your tits."
"These goddamn bastards..."
—Click.
I pressed my back to Rijet's and scanned the surroundings.
"That savage fuck over there! Hey, you shithead! You dare kill my friend?!"
"That dog killed my brother!"
"I got my ass kicked by him too!"
"Hack his limbs off and feed 'em to the dogs! No need for a girlie hole on that one!"
"Sell him to a boy whorehouse!"
Sure, I'd killed a few criminals in the slums, but these were new faces. Definitely some misunderstanding.
Wanted to shout back, but right now, I had to ration even the energy for that.
—Thump thump.
This was a real fucking crisis.
"Rijet."
"Yeah."
"Let's team up."
"Obviously, you fuck."
"What? Fuck?"
"Sorry. Habit."
I could feel it through her back.
Rijet was as tense as me. Her heartbeat was pounding loud enough to hear. Both of us pushed to the brink from that brutal fight... This was bad.
Can we escape?
"If we don't break out, you're getting gang-raped and I'm dog food."
"Like they said."
"I'm scared shitless, what do we do...!"
"I'm more scared, fucker. Fuck up now and those slum brats'll have me knocking up a hundred kids. Shit."
They say humans are scariest of all—spot on for this shitshow. And how much pounding equals a hundred kids anyway.
"Usually one-punch weaklings... but they gang up good."
If we get taken down, I'll just die, but Rijet? Woman in hell. She knows it too.
So our goal's the same.
Survive and GTFO.
"Cooperation first, Rijet."
"Fine, you pussy. That's what you said."
"What? Pussy? You cockslut."
"Your mom's the whore."
"Dog-cock bitch for real."
This bitch doesn't hold back.
But we're so used to slinging shit at each other, it barely registers.
"These brats are on some next-level sexual harassment though."
"You did it too, asshole. Can't reflect on your own shit, you thug."
"Mine's different."
"How?"
"Dunno... It just is. Kinda."
I pick those insults on purpose in fights for psychological edge. These slum rats are spewing real hate and lust.
"Well, my rack's killer."
"You say that yourself?"
"It is. So what?"
"Not really."
I've said it a million times—doesn't do shit for me.
"What kinda life makes you call mine impressive?"
"There's that."
"You... got that taste, huh. Dirty fuck."
"No, pussy!"
Anyway, the hyped-up slum mob was closing in slow, oozing murderous intent. All clutching work tools—'work' meaning murder here.
Get caught, it's 24-hour beating buffet then trip to the afterlife. True twilight voyage.
Unprecedented crisis—survival instincts go berserk.
How—how do we bust out? Should've picked a better spot if I knew.
—Too late for regrets.
Me and Rijet at our limits, basically defenseless and surrounded.
But.
Together? We got a chance...!
"...Knife."
"Huh?"
"Grab the knife, quick! I'll cover!"
Rijet yelled in a frenzy, stance ready. Knife was up ahead. Still some distance from the slums. Can we snag it? Hell yeah we will!
Trust Rijet now!
No teamwork, no escape! Solo breakout impossible! Decision made—I launched forward. She'd cover if shit hit.
—Whoosh!
"Kieeeek!!!!!"
My berserk yell made the frontliners flinch and backpedal. They don't wanna die either. Just tool-wielding slum trash, not trained soldiers.
"Yes! That's it!"
Rijet cheered and followed right behind.
"Knife ahead! Block! Go!"
"You first, pussy!"
"Block first! He's grabbing the knife!"
—Rumble!
Slum mob charged en masse. "Kill 'em!" Some instigator yelled—I'd kill that fucker for sure.
"Fuck, Rijet!!"
"I know, grab the knife first!"
"Uwooooo!!!!"
Ignore the trash, snag the knife!
—Thud thud thud!
Decision made—fierce impacts exploded behind. Who's dying back there? Pray it's not Rijet...!
"Savage fuck!"
Frontliner with a club charged.
—Pull up stamina.
—Power to the legs!
For survival, ignore body pain, break limits! Push backlash to tomorrow to live today!
"Where you going, slumdog?!"
Exhausted or not, no way I lose physically to these. Trust the instinct whisper. Drop low, dodge the club, scoop the knife!
"Die, dogshit!!!"
—Stab!
Spring up, ram the knife in his gut and yank. "Gurk!" Knife secured. Weapon changes everything. One kill signals I'm still kicking!
—Creep.
Grip on the hilt floods me with confidence... and hope!
We can do this!
"Rijet!"
"Yeah!"
Quick check—she'd snatched an axe from earlier dinner fight, sweating blood while wrecking three. Her feral display kept others at bay.
"You shit-slum fucks! First comer dies! Scram!"
"Hey, hey. Fuck. That hot for my tits? Wanna fuck me? Line up, dogs. I'll split every skull."
"I said scram, why come?"
"Shut it, dickhead."
Our polar taunts and bluffs made 'em hesitate.
Few kills melted their weakling hate like spring snow, fear taking over. Lucky they're cowards.
"D-don't chicken out! Don't kill the red-tit bitch here, she'll come back later!"
"Y-yeah! Right!"
"Kill 'em! Fuck!"
"I'll first-dib her pussy!"
—Uwaaaaa!!!!
But overwhelming numbers—agitators spread courage fast. Horde charged like an army.
"Break through now!"
Rijet roared, axe high.
"Back—trust you?"
I called to her.
"Fuckhead, we're fate-bound now! One dies, both do! Fuck yeah, I got it! Cover no matter what!"
"Trust you! Back's yours!"
"Trust me, fuck! I wanna live too!"
Good.
"No way I'm their fuckmeat!"
Then trust.
We were mortal enemies minutes ago, but now? Like husband and wife. Shelve grudges. Hate too. Here, me and Rijet—best friends, battle bros!
No duo, no survival!
—!
Survive together!
—Rip 'em outttt!!!!!!!
From this moment.
No back worries.
Focus front—only three ahead! No way these slums mastered formations! Just three at a time for me.
No problem!
Knife in hand!
These chumps ain't shit!
—Tack tack tack!
Yell and charge. Slums crash like tidal wave. Ignore back, block noise. All focus front!
Or no breakthrough!
"Die!"
"Drop!"
"Pussy!"
Axe, dagger, club slums swarm.
—Thought ends there.
Dive first guy, throat stab. "Guh?!" Dagger flies. Arm up, block. Quilted armor tanks it fine.
Dagger punk grins thinking hit—sever his neck. —Drip. Blade nicks carotid, axe swings.
"Hyap!"
Axe too risky—big dodge, face punch!
—Pow!
"Kack!"
Ignore falling three, push forward! Charge, breakthrough! Real-time kills sap their momentum.
Head intact? Rijet's alive.
Shove thoughts aside, squeeze last stamina and will. Lungs bursting. Muscles, brain straining. Side effects later—ignore. More bedrest probably—
"—Won't forgive the worm that ripped my heart!!!!!!"
Left arm blocks, stab front and right. Tactics work golden—kills open path.
Path explodes like breached dam, widening.
"Uwaaaak!!!"
"Kwaaaak!!"
"R-run! He wasn't supposed to survive!"
Fleeing slums.
"You're all dead, pussies!!!!"
Swipe hyped knife—blockers scatter left right.
—The miracle of Moses, carved by murder.
"Jesus...! Jeepers creepers!"
Slum edge ahead. Just reach it. They won't chase outside turf—straight shot!
"Rijet!"
"Don't worry about me, run, fuckhead!"
"Fuck, if you die, they'll backstab me! You good?!"
"Fucking great, pussy!! Nice path! Brother cocksucker!"
"You're a badass bitch too!"
—Uoooooo!!!!!
—Kraaaaa!!!!
Final sprint.
Legs exploding power, stomp hard—fresh wind, unreal speed—runner's high! Die here? Runner's dead. But high now!
"R-running! What now!"
"Catch 'em! They'll fuck us if they escape!"
Too late, fuckers.
Prep to die next time.
Heart pounding wild, lungs waterlogged—breathe hard. Run. Run anyway...! Murder marathoner Kim Katt!
Finally—
"—Finish line!"
"Fuck!"
Out!
We burst out and kept running like world's end. Till slum screams faded.
Escaped that blood-soaked, hellish slum pit.
"Hah, hah... hah...! Hah...!"
"Kahk...! Kru... hah, hah...!"
Fontain square with passersby.
I collapsed next to Rijet.
"Slut... alive...?"
"Hah... fucking peachy."
"Let you live... fucker... kahk! From now... live nice...!"
Lungs exploding.
"I'm letting you off, asshole. No more... khk! messing other biz... fuck... hah... hah... Huh? This your fault, thug...!"
Caught breath like that for ages.