The One-Armed Criminal's Vengeance

A week later.

A blood-soaked man staggered up the steep slope along a dense forest path, gasping raggedly for breath.

"Hah… heuk… kuhuk…."

It was Bia, the boss of the criminals in Linde Village.

His appearance was beyond wretched—it was utterly pathetic.

His greasy hair was matted with blood and filth, and his worn leather armor hung in tatters.

But the most horrific sight was his left shoulder: everything below it had been sliced clean off, wrapped only in a crude, blood-soaked bandage.

Even amid the burning agony scorching his entire body, Bia ground his teeth recalling that hellish night a week ago.

'That fucking bastard Werner….'

It had all started when that greedy fatso commissioned him, and they clinked glasses in the underground bar.

Right after toasting with that shithead Werner,

his mind clouded over, and reason flew out the window.

When he came to, the scene before Bia's eyes was hell itself.

He and his men were naked, piled atop the obese Werner in grotesque positions, thrusting their hips like beasts!

And he himself had that fat fuck's barely visible dick in his mouth…!

-What the fuck! What is this! -Krahhh! -Ptoo!

Bia immediately bit down and spat it out, vomiting violently.

Before he could even process the situation, the bar door burst open, and the church's holy knights stormed in.

With shouts of "Filthy heretics defiling the goddess!",

Bia, his men, and even Werner were dragged naked and chained to the church's cold underground dungeon.

Waiting there were the inquisitors' merciless tortures.

"What devil did you contract with to perform this sodomy and corruption ritual?!" Heated iron pokers and sharp blades dug into their flesh as they demanded answers.

Bia lost his entire left arm during that infernal interrogation.

His other comrades had long since died or gone mad.

"Heuk… heuk…."

Fortunately, he'd miraculously escaped the dungeon during a guards' shift change.

He was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the sole survivor.

And his life was already as good as dumped in the shitter.

Returning to the village while evading the guards and church pursuers would be suicide.

'Why… why the fuck do I have to go through this shit…!'

Bia wailed in rage and injustice.

Sure, he'd committed plenty of crimes he was even proud of!

He'd figured he'd die from a knife to the gut someday, but he never imagined ending up like this!

He needed a target to unleash this boiling fury on.

And only one name surfaced in Bia's mind.

'Lee Han.'

Yeah, it was all that woodcutter bastard's fault.

Everything went to hell right after taking that damned commission from merchant Werner to deal with him!

If not for that job, he wouldn't have gone to the bar that day, and none of this nightmare would have happened.

The root of all evil was that woodcutter. No doubt.

Who knows? Maybe that fucker was why he'd lost his mind.

He might've even thrown an aphrodisiac vial there—one whiff and you're done!

Yeah, that had to be it.

Bia clawed his way up the forest slope toward the cabin's location Werner had mentioned.

'Rip that bastard apart… take his house, heal up, then head to another village.'

Survival instinct or murderous intent.

Bia clung to his fading life force and stubbornly climbed the mountain.

How far had he gone?

Finally, through the trees, a sturdy log cabin came into view.

Bia hid behind a tree trunk and caught his breath.

'There it is. You fucker….'

The woodcutter Werner had described was visible.

Arms folded behind his back, he gazed leisurely at the forest—unarmed, in a perfect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠state of vulnerability.

A cruel smile twisted Bia's lips.

He'd lost his left arm, but he was a veteran among veterans from the back alleys.

With his remaining right hand, he cautiously drew the small, sharp handaxe from his belt.

'Just a bit closer… then I'll bury this axe in that fucker's skull.'

Bia killed his presence and crept through the underbrush, inching ever so slowly toward Lee Han.

Rustle—

The moment his toe crunched a dry leaf.

Lee Han's head, facing the forest, slowly turned toward Bia.

Their eyes met in midair.

'Shit, spotted!'

As Bia raised his axe and lunged,

Lee Han immediately bent at the waist, scooping up a fist-sized ordinary stone from the ground.

He took aim as if to throw.

At that clumsy, playful response, Bia sneered inwardly.

'Crazy fuck. You think you can hit me from this distance with a pebble?'

No grown man, no matter how strong, could throw a stone that far with lethal force.

Was it because he was some common-sense-defying woodcutter? If it were him, he'd have bolted immediately.

'Retard….'

Bia imagined the bloody festival to come. And Lee Han threw the stone.

Whiiish—!

The stone shot out at terrifying speed.

Ignoring air resistance, it flew in a straight line and struck precisely.

Splaaat—!

"Kahak…!"

Dead center in Bia's chest, right on the solar plexus.

Crack-crack!

He felt his ribs shatter into pieces.

The immense impact launched his body into the air before slamming him backward onto the ground.

Bia collapsed, vomiting blood, staring at Lee Han in horrified disbelief.

'Impossible… this range, with just a stone, this power…?!'

He couldn't breathe.

Pain choked off even his screams.

With his severed left arm stump and now his solar plexus pulverized, Bia lacked even the strength to twitch a finger.

Thud, thud.

Footsteps approached.

Lee Han walked right up to the bloodied Bia's face.

He stepped on Bia's wrist, picked up the axe,

and muttered,

"Who'd have thought I'd snag a unique item like this… Didn't expect to take down a hidden boss this way."

Saying that, Lee Han looked down at Bia.

Bia, foaming blood at the mouth, clenched his teeth and rasped,

"Kuhuk… ptoo. You… what the hell… are you really…?"

This wasn't the power or senses a mere woodcutter should have.

To Bia's question, Lee Han replied ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as if it were absurd.

"Obviously a woodcutter. What else would I be?"

With that answer, Bia's mind rapidly clouded over.

In his blurring vision, he spotted something in Lee Han's hand.

A handful of green-glowing herbs used for stopping bleeding and healing trauma.

'Why… not kill me and use the herbs…?'

Bia was bewildered, and Lee Han spoke.

"Exactly. I'll level up my treatment trait by one and let you go. You have any idea how much you made me suffer?"

It was incomprehensible. But also perfectly comprehensible. Those words clearly meant he wouldn't let him die easy.

But when the hell had he even met this guy to say that? If he was a real victim, fine, he'd admit it! Even as injustice burned in Bia, primal terror crawled up his spine. Memories of the church inquisitors flooded back.

'I won't… play by that fucker's rules…!'

Fueled by rage, Bia made his final decision.

He slammed his teeth into his own tongue.

Crunch!

Horrific pain as his tongue severed, hot blood filling his mouth.

With a victorious smirk, Bia spat the severed tongue at Lee Han's feet.

As Bia's eyes rolled back and consciousness faded,

Lee Han muttered in bewilderment,

"What're you doing? You think biting your tongue kills you or something?"

Wasn't that common knowledge…? "Gutsy move… fine. I'll cut it in half. Still gonna hurt like hell, though. It still haunts my dreams."

And why the fuck was this guy so pissed at him? That was all Bia wanted to ask, but no words came.

In his final moments, Bia felt not pain, but bewilderment and injustice, as his eyes closed.