Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 149
Chapter Title: Capturing the Bounty Target (3)
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[Madness]
Enormous rage surges, rapidly burning life force
With that single word, an overwhelming surge of fury erupted from Damon's body, rapidly incinerating his life force.
Even in Jo's eyes, who couldn't properly gauge emotions or life force due to his mediocre black magic talent, it was vividly clear.
Jo's shallow knowledge couldn't fully grasp what Madness was, but the reddening skin, rapidly expanding muscles and bones made it obvious this was no ordinary black magic.
Jo instinctively shouted.
"Smash him! I'll take responsibility, so bash his skull in and kill him!"
If he died, the bounty would be reduced, but Jo yelled it anyway.
The rapidly swelling body and the ropes straining to snap screamed to kill him as quickly as possible.
Fortunately, Owen was nimble despite his size and understood orders well, so he immediately carried them out. The problem was that the enemy was faster.
Thwack—!!
Gathering black magic energy, just as Owen swung his iron club toward Damon's head, the fully expanded Damon whipped his arm first, sending Owen flying.
Owen, who weighed over 200 kilograms.
"Oh... fuck, holy shit."
Sam muttered as he readjusted his dual pistols.
His height felt like 5 or 6 meters, muscles bulging enough to tear his skin—it was like looking at some other creature, not a human.
Above all, those crazed eyes and the drooling mouth made it clear this wouldn't end nicely.
"......"
"......"
"......"
Damon, Jo, and Sam faced off in silence.
Jo thought he'd charge right away, but he didn't. Instead, he looked around and headed toward Owen, who was embedded in the wall after being smashed.
With a beastly growl and thick killing intent.
Jo checked the two cadaver puppets.
If all four of them combined their strength, maybe they could handle that monster...
"...Fuck."
For some reason, the cadaver puppets—the black mage and the sniper—had abandoned their tattered bodies and fled far away, as if sensing danger.
Even without a master, fuck, was this normal behavior?
But the situation was too urgent for complaints.
Jo had to choose.
Charge the monster with just Sam, without the cadaver puppets' help? Or use Owen as bait and run until Dave returned? Well, the dilemma didn't last long.
"Sam, cover me!"
"Fuck, knew it!"
With those words, Sam opened fire.
Bang—! Damon raised his massive beast-like hand to block it in response to the sound.
But there was no issue. He hadn't aimed to blow the head off from the start.
Upon hitting his hand, the bullet exploded into black smoke, blocking Damon's vision and smell.
Black Mist, a black magic that rendered anyone caught off-guard immobile for at least 1-2 seconds.
'I know from experience.'
With that thought, Jo chewed a life force nutrient from the Black Market, then swiftly extracted processed emotions from the Fighter Crew leader—the cook—and converted them into black magic, casting it on himself.
With the damp, gloomy sound unique to black magic, he felt his body rapidly strengthening—crack, crack.
'With life force replenished, I can hold out for a bit.'
Thinking that, Jo maximized his body's reinforcement and charged, slamming his fist into Damon's knee with all his might as he flailed.
To cripple his mobility.
The first hit landed, and he instantly sensed something wrong.
"What the hell is this body..."
"Kyahahahaha!!!"
Even though he'd struck hard enough to split rock, Damon didn't fall—he just seemed slightly pained.
Instead, it only enraged him further. He swung the struck leg with full force, kicking Jo away.
The shocking part was that this crude, wild kick sent Jo flying back several steps.
But it wasn't without gain.
He'd saved Owen, who was knocked out embedded in the wall.
The problem was that Jo had become Damon's new target.
"Kyakyaaaaaah—!!!"
The plague-type black mage Damon roared like a beast, wildly swatting away the Black Mist before charging at Jo.
Jo, flung but unhurt, quickly got up and assumed a defensive stance.
A stray dog from the streets at age seven came to mind.
So huge and fierce it had scared him into wetting himself.
That dog flashed in his mind now.
'But not as bad as that one... Not as bad as Dave.'
Boom—! Boom—! Boom—! Damon charged like a mad bull.
Jo waited until the last possible moment, then sidestepped right before collision, slipping aside to evade the charge.
He followed with a full-force punch to the Achilles tendon with his knuckle-equipped fist.
No matter how much plague-type black magic strengthened the body, untrainable weak points had limits.
Proving it, the massive beast let out a low scream and dropped to one knee.
A fleeting moment, but enough.
"Sam!"
"Got it!!"
On Jo's call, Sam—who'd been timing it—fired at the head.
Damon raised his arm to block Sam's shots again.
Sam's bullets, enhanced by black magic to pierce rock like tofu, barely scratched Damon's skin.
But Jo didn't care. An opening under the armpit was exposed.
Jo dashed in and swung his knuckled fist into the open armpit with everything he had.
A punch that could shatter a normal person's skull.
It sank deep into soft flesh, followed by the sensation of something breaking and a snap.
Definitely felt the impact.
"Kuaaaaaaaaah—!!!"
Damon thrashed in agony.
Even his pained writhing was threatening, so Jo backed off.
"Nice!!"
As Jo retreated, Sam cheered and loaded his maximum power rounds.
So strong they damaged the gun, reserved for absolute necessities.
'But this is that critical moment.'
Click—
The chambering echoed through the sewer just as he was about to fire. Damon, writhing in pain, suddenly turned his head and roared with full force.
"Kuaaaaaah—!!!"
A shout infused with black magic energy.
Not just loud—it carried physical shockwaves that rattled brains and organs.
Similar to Dave's Outcry black magic.
Sensing the ominous vibe, Jo braced as best he could, but couldn't fully evade the stun.
Sam, mid-prep, took a direct hit, blacked out, and collapsed.
"Guh...!"
They'd barely crippled one arm for the advantage, but that one blast flipped the situation.
At least Damon had wrecked his throat from the powerful shout, coughing blood in agony.
If he'd pressed the attack, they'd be done for. Small mercy.
"...Tch."
Staggering but regaining balance, Jo pulled a pipe bomb from his pocket, yanked the fuse, and lit it.
Fssshhh—!
He immediately hurled it at Damon.
Not expecting it to kill, but to buy time.
Boom—!!
A acrid smokescreen burst from the pipe bomb.
Defective—power wasn't great—but Jo ignored it, grabbing the unconscious Sam and fleeing as far as possible.
No specific plan.
Just struggling to survive.
Like when he was a kid.
'Wait, what about that bastard Owen?! He's got a family.'
"Kuhahahahaha—!!"
Perhaps roused by the explosion, Damon sprang up roaring.
He wasn't unscathed.
Limping leg, limp right arm, one eye gone, face mangled—proof.
Injuries that would immobilize a normal person, but black magic kept him going stubbornly.
Not just that—his even creepier eyes glared at Jo before he went berserk and charged.
"Kuhuhuhuhuhuh—!!!"
Boom—!
Boom—!
Boom—!
Boom—!
Boom—!
The massive bulk charging at insane speed evoked a truck.
Impossible to flee carrying Sam, who couldn't even stand.
But abandoning him meant certain death.
Dozens of voices screamed options in his head.
He even resented Dave for ditching first.
Right then.
"Kyahahaha—!"
The sniper cadaver puppet appeared, firing eight bullets from eight arms.
Like a dozen gangsters in a volley.
Damon faltered, halting.
"Kuhuhhak—"
-Thud!
As Damon tried charging heedless of damage, the black mage cadaver puppet unleashed Black Mist, blinding him again.
Not enough—it briefly siphoned Damon's life force and emotions, forming a Black Javelin and stabbing his leg.
Though his defense was too strong for deep penetration.
Hope flickered again.
While firing, the sniper puppet closed in, dual-wielding sawed-off shotguns with its original two arms, blasting Damon's upper body.
Blam—! Blam—!!
Dozens of black magic-enhanced lead pellets ravaged his torso, drenching it in blood.
The four-armed black mage puppet unleashed Hate Bullets and Black Javelins with all arms, widening wounds.
Cumulative damage finally dropped Damon to his knees again. But he was tenacious.
Despite blocked sight and smell from Black Mist, he calculated trajectories, smashing the ground to hurl debris shards in retaliation.
Using both arms, it knocked both puppets back.
The shards were larger than expected—serious damage.
Damon rose, vomiting blood.
He'd stop only when dead or they were.
"Fine, have it your way...!"
Realizing he had to kill Damon to survive, Jo set Sam down, infused his body to the limit with black magic, and charged.
Then smashed his fist in.
Crack—!!
A skull-crushing punch. Yet despite injuries, it barely fazed Damon.
Just a sting. Jo didn't care—he stripped off his shirt, twisted it like rope, looped it around Damon's thick neck, and unleashed a barrage.
Crack—!
Crack—!
Crack—!
Crack—!
Crack—!
Each hit mangled Damon's face, caved cheekbones, loosened eyelids and nose.
Yet he stood.
Finally, knowing the strain, Jo concentrated black magic into one arm, amplifying power.
Damon slowly raised hands to grab him.
"Huuu..."
——Boom!!!!
Jo's deep breath ended with a sewer-shaking roar.
The sound of a body literally breaking.
Indeed, half Damon's face collapsed; arms lost strength.
Over. Though his right hand overloaded again. Still, over.
"Gu... uh... uh... uh......"
"Oh God, please."
Jo invoked some forgotten god.
He seemed done, but Damon regained balance, slowly raising arms.
To snatch Jo.
Exasperating turned terrifying.
His punching arm wasn't intact anymore.
Plague-type black magic's flaw: win rough fights, bedridden for days.
'If I'd only learned Black Suit...'
Then it—the leg-damaged black mage cadaver puppet coated Jo's arm in Black Suit.
Not just that—Muscle Up and buffs made his right arm roil with ominous black energy.
Like a devil's limb.
Captivated by the power, Jo raised it high and smashed Damon's face.
Kaboom————————!!!!
The floor shook, dropping ceiling droplets; Jo collapsed to his knees, strength gone.
The near-immortal Damon sprawled comically, head bursting like a rotten tomato.
Not disgusting.
Too exhausted for that.
"Haa... haa... haa... haa... Could've helped sooner."
Jo said to the approaching cadaver puppets.
Still creepy, but exhaustion made him complain.
They just giggled 'Kiiiiiik—'.
These weren't normal cadaver puppets. That "Child" thing?
No communication, so no more questions. Jo sat on Damon's corpse, catching breath.
Deep fatigue—only after considerable time did breathing normalize.
Breath recovered, Jo called into the pitch-black passage.
"How long you gonna lurk? Come out."
No sooner said, an armed group emerged in the sewer passage. Clearly not ordinary.
"Ah... fuck, for real."