Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Usa
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Of course, he hadn’t come expecting a warm welcome.
If the guy wasn’t a possessor, then showing up out of nowhere and spouting nonsense would understandably provoke an attack.
And if he was a possessor? Even in a rundown shack like this, he’d be scraping by somehow, so another possessor suddenly dropping in would naturally raise alarms.
But the reaction was far more intense than anticipated. An attack was one thing, but that expression was off.
Terror.
Yuri had lived a rough two years. More tangles with black path warriors and ronin than with white path martial artists or adventurers.
Not everyone was a total scumbag, but most had their eyes on his pockets or the back of his head. Even the hearty types who laughed boisterously and invited him to join their sect or gang turned thug with a drawn blade after a polite refusal.
He’d come close to death plenty of times but survived every one. And once he did, the tables turned. That sly Haomen bastard Roychi, who’d smirked about no letter of recommendation without cash, ended up begging for his life, drenched in cold sweat, tears, and drool after Yuri dropped all his backup.
Cheap fear wrung out with fists instead of blades, but Yuri was used to it. In his two years, he’d inflicted terror on attackers far more often than he’d felt it himself.
So the terror etched on Jisibalhwa’s face felt familiar yet shocking. Threat to his life. His whole existence crumbling. The mix was denser than any fear Yuri had seen before.
What was it?
Like he’d seen a ghost.
“You fucking bastard, what’s your problem?”
No time to mind his language. Red lines shot from fingertips, explosions bursting right in front of him. He didn’t just trust his protective aura—he moved. Boom! A chain of blasts chased him.
He’d fought a 5th Tier once before.
Rarer than the dime-a-dozen 3rd and 4th Tiers, but plenty of 5th Tiers stagnated against that wall in this world.
The opponent had been a swordsman, and it hadn’t been tough. Weaker than the Blood Fiend, naturally. He’d won without even using Holy Flame Force Emission.
But a 5th Tier mage? First time. Martial artists and mages hinged heavily on distance. Mages dominated at range to unleash spells; close up, warriors had the edge.
Warriors suffered at range against any weapon. They needed to close in for the sure win, but closing was the hard part.
So the mage matchup wasn’t particularly daunting for Yuri. Distance disadvantages were old hat, and his two-year pursuit had honed sure, bold ways to bridge gaps.
Naturally, that meant ‘feet.’ How to move them. Battle footwork and swift arts for long distances.
Yuri’s body dropped low, hugging the floor. Crackle. Inner energy surged from his dantian, permeating his muscles.
The finger pointed a feint. So did the line from Jisibalhwa’s fingertip. Simple, blatant fake—but pointing outright made it effective.
Meant nothing to Yuri. Sharpening senses with each tier ascent, plus mana-sensitive vision. Explosion hadn’t hit yet, but magic blasts always preceded with mana flux.
Even if just an instant, Yuri caught it. The moment precursor became phenomenon, he charged.
“!”
Jisibalhwa had stepped up to keep distance—optimal for spell spam.
Mages weren’t duller or slower than warriors. Low Tiers maybe, but 4th Tier mages expanded souls for fitting senses.
5th Tier added constant buffs aiding mind and senses. Jisibalhwa too. Magic switches flipped: thoughts accelerated, vision slowed.
Then more switches chained. Corrections balanced the mental acceleration.
‘Insane.’
Zzzing! Jisibalhwa felt stabbing pain in eyes and brain. Not just speed—the aura wasn’t plain.
‘Magic?’
Most mages sped thought to tweak vision. But his aura thrashed wildly in Jisibalhwa’s slowed sight, overloading eyes and brain. Like staring at dizzying optical illusions too long. Inner energy swirled chaotically within the flickering aura, warping surrounding mana.
To Jisibalhwa, it looked like living flames approaching. Already gripped by eerie dread, watching those roaring flames close in made composure hard.
“D-don’t come closer!”
That scream only deepened Yuri’s bewilderment. He got the panic, the fear, but this seemed overkill.
Kaboom! Flames trailed wild hand swings. The shack shook. Rumble! Buried ground magic triggered.
A crimson flame wall blocked Yuri. He didn’t flinch, stomped the earth.
Suddenly, childhood tokusatsu flashed: bug-masked, tights-clad hero. Long series, signature flying kick.
Pop, special effects blast. Back-to-explosion flying kick. Not intentional, but Yuri’s kick mimicked it.
The wall split. Jisibalhwa’s wide eyes showed. He kept spamming spells, but couldn’t hold Yuri.
Crack! Locked door flew back from a kick.
“Kyaak!”
Territory breached. Jisibalhwa shrieked in terror, lunging for the window. Yuri’s hand moved faster. Black Fang drawn from waist lashed out.
“Hiiik!”
Defense barrier instant-formed, but Black Fang’s edge plus aura pierced on contact, skewering the robe.
Crash! Robe-pierced, Jisibalhwa tumbled. He twisted, finger thrusting at Yuri—but Yuri was quicker. Thwack! Charging kick slammed solar plexus.
“Gurk!”
Jisibalhwa convulsed. Internal defense magic up on impact—useless. Felt like a thick blade jammed in, not a foot.
He’d held back plenty. Full power would’ve burst organs, body exploding.
“Feet are shit for power control.”
Yuri grumbled, doffing hood. Face changed, so no Nancheon Yuun Fist here—just feet. Sealing fists felt awkward. Past foes were middling; could he solo a mid-5th Tier on feet alone?
‘If not, mix in fists.’
Just seal Self-Rotating Thunder Islet Art. Witnesses were the real issue anyway.
“Don’t throw Black Fang, I said.”
Ha-ryeong grumbled, entering. She propped the fallen door roughly at the entrance.
“What transmission did you send to make him freak like that?”
“Secret.”
“Secret my ass. That cat panties crap you told me? That it?”
“Secret.”
“Little Horn bro, I’m dying to know—what’re cat panties? Cat wearing panties? Or panties with cats on?”
“Sis, can’t you just drop it?”
“But I’m curious!”
“I was delirious, spouting nonsense. Wipe it from memory, yeah?”
“Not easy.”
Chatting idly, they hauled Jisibalhwa up. He’d foamed out from the kick, passed cold.
“Bind him?”
“For talk? Overkill.”
Surveying inside while answering. No standout items, but spells aplenty. Yuri wandered, dismantling annoying ones.
“Self-taught magic too?”
“Common spells.”
“Gifts?”
Yuri glared silently at Ha-ryeong.
*-Don’t expect Elena lady’s looking for you.*
Reunion Ha-ryeong’s Elena tale ended there; Yuri hadn’t pried.
He wanted to ask. How Elena fared two years. Healthy? Eating well? Lonely? Questions galore—but no.
Rumors sufficed. Derusia Magic Tower favorite hit 5th Tier at 22. Called Mad Thunder, not Golden Lily.
“...Learned that too.”
Two years back, Elena’s three Haiderga spell formulas: mastered magically, fused martially. ‘Thundercloud’ moniker from Nancheon Yuun Fist plus Self-Rotating Thunder Islet Art—and Haiderga in forms.
‘So full of lingering regrets.’
Fox mask hid Ha-ryeong’s twitching lip. Not just Elena clung and ignored.
‘Should’ve dragged her?’
Sudden thought. Last pre-departure meal. No joy. Talked as usual, but table-distance felt vast.
Ha-ryeong’s doing, mostly. Not detaching bonds. Bluntly prodding for change. If Elena said go together, Ha-ryeong would’ve happily taken coachman’s seat for her.
But Elena stayed silent, as two years: ignoring feelings, regrets, choosing empty, lonely, drab estate alone.
‘Hope she’s eating well.’
Not purely for Elena dropping Yuri’s name. To Ha-ryeong, a declaration of sorts.
Interest piqued, tempted, wanted first dibs. Not romantic jealousy bait, but cleaner to declare upfront, seek tacit okay than sneak and reveal later.
“Stay outside?”
Ha-ryeong glanced out window. Subduing Jisibalhwa was quick. But explosions and flames were loud. Shack remote, but slum heart.
Noise drew slumdwellers near.
“More eyes that way.”
Yuri raised finger, tracing air lines. Ambient mana followed his formulas into magic. Whoosh... Soundproof barrier enveloped shack.
“More tricks up your sleeve.”
“...”
“Say it’s good. Sis ain’t stingy with praise.”
“Ahem, not big deal.”
“Didn’t get much pure praise in two years?”
More like praise from known face felt subtly nice. No showing, though. Ha-ryeong’d tease.
“Ugh...”
Prodding seated Jisibalhwa’s acupoints woke him with a groan.
“Huh...!”
Limp body snapped alert.
“No screaming.”
Dropped ‘Usa’ ending. Yuri dragged chair front, continued.
“Neighbors worry. Window, wave you’re fine.”
“You... you...!”
“No funny business. You know I can’t be touched, whatever you try.”
“...”
“Not here to kill. Just talk. But talk needs your cooperation. No coop, gotta switch topics.”
Pre-isekai, Lorellia told Lee Soo-hyuk:
-Violence is a superb negotiation tool in most cases!
Once unbelievable; two years etched it bone-deep. Showing power gap eased talks way more than half-assed reason or emotion.
Hesitant Jisibalhwa cautiously rose, neared window. Waved under watch, slumped back to chair.
“R-really...?”
Panting query.
“R-really not... here to kill... me?”
“Told you no.”
“Then... that speech? What was it?”
Terror resurfaced on pale face.
“Ra-rabbit... Rabbit Star! Usa!”
“Rabbit Star?”
Telepathy-missed, Ha-ryeong tilted head at “Usa?”
“Hey, you fucking bastard, shut it on irrelevants.”
Yuri lunged to gag, but panic-locked Jisibalhwa babbled, focus wild, spittle flying.
“What you transmitted! Rabbit Star... came from Rabbit Star!”
“Fucker, quiet.”
“To meet me! R-revenge? Revenge? Revenge on me! From Rabbit Star?!”
“Please, dude.”
“Usa, usa... Usa!”
Unknown trauma, but Jisibalhwa clutched head, convulsing. Pupils blackened like ink spread, sclera corrupted; black blood trickled nose.
“Heart Demon!”
Ha-ryeong startled shout. Heart Demon—not warrior-exclusive, universal human affliction. Childhood cringe flashbacks screaming, kicking blankets: mild form.
Jisibalhwa’s intense trauma seizure: severe. Mages/warriors risked qi/soul backlash, devilish ingress.
“U... Usa, usa, usausa...”
Gushing nosebleed dripped jaw.
“Little Horn, wrong move, his mind breaks.”
Urgency tensed Ha-ryeong’s voice.
“Wh-what do I do?”
Two years’ ordeals, but this first.
“Don’t know details, but your transmission plus pressure triggered it? Calm him first.”
Yuri chewed lip.
[O-okayUsa? Snap outUsa!]
“Little Horn, won’t hear transmission now.”
“Please...”
Yuri felt heart demon looming himself. No choice. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth opened.
“H-hey, snap outUsa!”
“...?”
“I’m not here to kill youUsa! No revengeUsa!”
Blurting, peeked at Ha-ryeong. Eyes met fox-masked. She slowly lifted mask.
Showing expression: usual blank, now brows and lips twisted in clear disgust.
“Huhuk...”
Repeated Usa-Usas calmed; focus returned. He retched black blood, heaved deep breaths.
“R-really... not here to... kill me...?”
“Y-yeahUsa.”
Human dignity shredded. Yuri quelled rising murder urge, drifting emotions, heart demon via Heavenly Principle Annihilating Evil Art chant.
“...Then why mimic that devil woman’s speech and setup? Sh-she didn’t survive, send you to kill me... right?”
“Wh-what?”
Chanting mentally, stuttered query jolted Yuri too.
“Devil woman?”
USAUSAMI₍ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎. dead maybe shocked less than her being female.
“UsaUsami’s a woman?”
Yuri, disbelieving, asked again.
