Chapter 24
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: What Can You Do? (4)
“Urgh!”
Wild Boar groaned as he dragged himself upright.
The old woman’s strike had been vicious. Just one hit, and he’d blacked out instantly.
That single punch!
Wild Boar could still feel the shock twisting through his guts even now.
His body had already shaken off the impact, but his spirit remembered the agony all too well.
“Eek!”
Wild Boar, who’d been rising leisurely, spotted the old woman and froze in alarm, instantly dropping into a defensive stance.
“Want another one?”
“No.”
Wild Boar answered without thinking.
“You two aren’t getting up?”
Only then did Four Thousand Four and the Fox of Bireung Mountain stir and rise.
They’d woken before Wild Boar.
The old woman had roused Four Thousand Four first, then the Fox of Bireung Mountain, and Wild Boar last. There was no special intent in starting with Four Thousand Four; she’d simply woken them in the order they lay.
And yet, Four Thousand Four and the Fox of Bireung Mountain had kept their eyes shut.
They listened with their ears.
They picked up every sound around them and pieced together the situation. What had happened, where they were, what was going on... They figured it out before even rising.
It was a habit ingrained from their time in the Nineteen Hells.
But with Wild Boar getting up and the old woman yelling at them to rise, they had no choice but to stir.
The two of them stood and eyed the old woman.
When she’d struck each of them once, they’d all thought they were dead. Yet here they were, alive. Not just them, but all three who’d come from the Nineteen Hells.
The old woman had no intention of killing them.
So what had all this been? Some kind of test? Where were Vanguard, Hanbi, and Jaja?
The old woman spoke.
“What should I do with you lot?”
Vanguard, Hanbi, and Jaja had left somewhere. They wouldn’t return for a month.
The old woman wasn’t an enemy.
Vanguard and the old woman must have planned to test One-Four-Six. They’d wanted to see if they could handle the task assigned to them. Which meant... Four Thousand Four hadn’t needed to break through the Twelve Stems Formation after all.
There’d been no need to kill those twelve.
Even if Four Thousand Four had done nothing and given up preemptively, it would’ve been fine.
No—would Vanguard have abandoned him then? Would he have taken that one strike from the old woman and never risen again?
During Vanguard’s absence, they were now under the old woman’s command.
The letter was still in effect. No matter who handed it over or from where, they had to obey the one holding their leash. They had to carry out any order, no questions asked. Refusal wasn’t tolerated, regardless of reason.
If ordered to die right here, they had to die. And die to the best of their ability.
If the commander’s intent was a painful death, they had to suffer exquisitely. If it was a swift end, they had to drop dead on the spot.
When Vanguard returned, they’d be thrown into some mission right away.
He didn’t know what it was, but in the old days, One-Four-Six would’ve died carrying it out.
After laying out a few rules, the old woman ignored them completely.
She sat on the porch like a statue awaiting her lost son, gazing at the evening sunset.
Even as darkness gathered around, she stared out beyond the fence like a mother waiting for her child.
“Um... what about food?”
The Fox of Bireung Mountain—Fox—asked cautiously, glancing at the old woman. But she remained silent.
“Then I’ll go scrounge something simple to tide us over. Not running, I swear. Just foraging for eats, so that’s okay, right?”
The old woman stared at Fox wordlessly. But she didn’t stop him. She watched him vanish into the gloom with a faint, ambiguous smile.
Fox returned with mushrooms and whipped up a quick meal from them.
Vanguard had left some jerky behind, so food wasn’t an issue, but they were all used to dry rations by now.
“Ah! So this is what flavor’s supposed to be like? Damn, it’s good.”
Wild Boar didn’t so much chew the mushrooms as dump them straight from the bowl into his mouth.
“Not sharing? Slow down at least.”
“Cut me some slack. I’ve been choking down greasy slop, and now real food’s got me losing my mind.”
“Yeah? Have more then.”
Fox even offered over his own share of mushrooms.
Wild Boar didn’t hesitate. He devoured them like a man who’d never seen a mushroom in his life.
Four Thousand Four ate quietly.
He picked at a few pieces, then lay back with his arms as a pillow. And promptly fell asleep.
Rest.
His condition was the worst. The wounds from the Twelve Yakshas made it hard to even twitch a finger.
Of course, he’d applied salve.
Vanguard had a highly effective trauma ointment. Unobtainable on the market—it was their special remedy.
The effect was outstanding. Dab it on, and the pain vanished. It cooled like poured ice water. Recovery was twice as fast, too.
But the wounds from the Twelve Yakshas were too severe.
Put simply, he was barely clinging to life.
In cases like this, rest was best. Tonics, pressure points, circulating qi... all useless. Forgetting everything and just sleeping it off was the way.
Injured beasts rested without fail.
They forgot to eat, focusing solely on recovery. Even starving near death, they rested. Until healed, they lay motionless, ignoring even teasing rats.
Humans did the opposite.
Sick or hurt, they wouldn’t stop moving. They scurried about treating it. Gulping medicines, chasing doctors...
Time healed illness.
Rest let time flow best.
Despite the early evening, he slept. Undisturbed by the nonstop chatter from Fox and Wild Boar.
He slept deeply. Truly deeply.
When he woke, his whole body ached. No—pain surged through him. It was bad enough to scream.
He didn’t get up. No rush. He could lie there longer.
Just then, his eyes met the old woman’s—she’d been watching him.
The old woman said,
“You know how to rest.”
“...”
“Most can’t sleep easy in your shoes. Those wounds from the Twelve Yakshas aren’t light. Normal folk would be writhing in agony. But you slept like a baby.”
“I have my ways.”
“That’s what worries me.”
“...”
“Three hundred kills, they say?”
Damn it!
Four Thousand Four just closed his eyes again.
He’d hear this over and over from now on. How many he’d killed. How many more he’d kill. How it felt taking lives.
The old woman’s face didn’t change as she spoke. Flat and matter-of-fact.
“You’ll be trouble someday. Vanguard’s got a venom in hand... What to do with you? Use you up and toss you, or raise you proper?”
“Moderately. Use me moderately and toss me.”
“...?”
The old woman looked at Four Thousand Four with mild surprise.
Four Thousand Four kept his eyes shut. Hands and feet stretched out, lying in the most comfortable pose imaginable, like he had nothing to say to her. Give him a moment, and he’d be asleep again.
“Whether moderately used or carefully raised, you’ll work till you drop dead anyway? Heh! So you figure dying from moderate abuse is better? No attachment to life, whining for a quick end?”
The old woman knew the chains binding those pulled from the Nineteen Hells. She saw right through why they cooperated.
Her words matched Four Thousand Four’s thoughts exactly.
This mindset wasn’t unique to him—it applied to most survivors from the Nineteen Hells.
“Trouble from the start. Making things hard.”
The old woman shook her head side to side.
She took them on a walk around the village.
No sign of the Twelve Yakshas. Their corpses had been cleaned up spotless. No traces of the fight with Four Thousand Four remained anywhere. They’d spilled quite a bit of blood, yet not a single stain.
The villagers seemed at peace.
All of them smiled and chatted brightly, oblivious to the Twelve Yakshas’ deaths.
Was the whole village tied to the old woman and Vanguard’s Heavenly Annihilation Division? Or had the bodies been cleared without the villagers knowing?
The villagers didn’t seem connected to the Heavenly Annihilation Division.
They knew no martial arts. Simple mountain folk living off farming, herb-gathering, and hunting.
They didn’t know the old woman’s true nature either.
“Oh dear, where’ve you been? We thought you’d left when you didn’t return by nightfall. The mountains are deep here—beasts everywhere. Careful on the night paths.”
A villager named Yisam fussed over the old woman.
“Any empty houses? These folks’ll stay a month or so. Doesn’t have to be fancy—just shelter from the night dew. Bill us fair.”
“Ah, yes. We have empties, but... up to three...”
“Don’t need three... Two should do. As long as it keeps out the dew, even a shabby shed works.”
“Got it. Can manage two. Gotta sweep the dust, but I’ll fix ’em quick.”
“Appreciate it.”
The old woman and Yisam talked.
Yisam, faced with the fierce-looking prison guard and bloodied Four Thousand Four, didn’t grimace—instead, he even smiled.
Yisam didn’t suspect the old woman at all. Strangers trailing her, and he didn’t ask who they were. It felt natural, like this wasn’t his first time.
As Yisam left, the old woman said,
“You two share one house, and you take the other. Gotta last a month, so get comfy. Might as well stay easy.”
The old woman stuck Four Thousand Four and Wild Boar in one house, assigning the Fox of Bireung Mountain his own.
A bit unexpected.
He’d figured Four Thousand Four or Wild Boar might get a solo spot... No reason for the Fox of Bireung Mountain to warrant one... Must be something special to teach him.
By lunchtime, everyone gathered in the main room to eat...
The old woman spoke.
“Time for an experiment.”
They’d just picked up their bowls to dig in.
One hand on rice, one on chopsticks, they stared at the old woman. No eating now.
“I’ve laid out all the martial arts I know.”
The old woman pointed to a chest beside the table.
It was fairly large. The kind for clothes or even bedding.
“Dig through and pick one manual. I’ll teach it proper.”
“Ah! Martial arts!”
Prison guard Wild Boar perked up eagerly.
Teaching martial arts meant releasing their suppressed inner power, too.
Finally, free use of martial arts again. Heavenly power at will, like before. Without arts, Four Thousand Four seemed top dog—but restore them...
Four Thousand Four top?
Damn it all! Me, outdone by that scum...
Wild Boar’s excitement faded as he bit his lower lip.
Unconsciously, he was wary of Four Thousand Four. Saw him as superior. Like he’d eyed Hanbi back at Martial Camp, now it was Four Thousand Four. Viewing a mere killer as a rival.
Unaware of his thoughts, the Fox of Bireung Mountain beside him chirped,
“Oh, so we’re learning martial arts too? What’s the strongest? I want that one, no question.”
The old woman smiled faintly.
“Don’t expect miracles. A month’s training won’t make you masters. Even one killer move takes time... Greed’s no good. Think carefully. Especially you!”
The old woman eyed Four Thousand Four.
“Choose wisely. This pick could shape your whole life.”
Chomp! Chomp!
Four Thousand Four was eating his rice.
No interest in martial arts—he just focused on his meal.
The second rule of rest: eat well.
Nothing beat resting well followed by eating well. Not about tasty food. Even bland stuff needed thorough chewing for good digestion. The body handled the rest: absorbing the good, filtering the bad.
Tasty or not, chew thoroughly.
Martial arts? No interest. Learn them and give your all; skip them and still give your all. Arts might buy a bit more life, but the end was death anyway.
The letter said: Fight till you die.
He concentrated on eating. Ignoring whatever the old woman said.