The Culprit Is You (Everyone Else Is Dead)! (3)

"Swordsman. I ask you. Did you attack Seol Miho?"

Wi Do-woon, locked in a standoff with me, asked in a trembling voice. Whatever had happened to that immovable stance of his? His ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠legs were shaking.

"Yeah. That's true."

"Why?"

"There's no 'why' about it. You guys attacked first."

I shrugged as I answered. They'd been ready to jump me barely six hours ago, and now they were acting all shocked. Had Miho gone and snitched after getting disqualified?

Wi Do-woon let out a frustrated groan, then glared at me.

"Kh... Then I'll ask again. Did you kill BJ MiraMiracle—ah, Rumira?"

"That's rich, coming from you. Pinning a crime on someone without evidence isn't a good look."

"You're lying. The only footprints on this beach are yours, swordsman. The culprit is you, Kim Beom!"

Well, yeah. Kelpies are water spirits. Of course they wouldn't leave footprints.

The light in Wi Do-woon's eyes, reflected in his glasses, was dying. The modest four-eyes pointed at the sky with a palm bearing his family crest, declaring the start of battle.

Like the Namgung clan's Changgun Sword Emperor and the Yongso clan's Crimson Dragon Grand Duke, the Floating World Venerable was one of the Twelve Retainers of the King of Jujutsu. When a scion of a great house invoked their ancestor's name, it meant they were going all-out.

Dead men tell no tales. In other words, he was genuinely planning to take out the easy target—me—and toss the crime onto my corpse.

Do-woon's gaze sharpened as he recited the incantation. Beach stones, seized by dense cursed energy, drifted into the air. If those came crashing down, I'd be buried in a stone tomb on the spot.

"I'll finish off Namgung's dog with a Namgung sword."

The greatsword object strapped to his back—Damro—its blade came flying at me as well.

Calling that a Flying Sword Technique? Don't make me laugh.

Wi Do-woon had the gall to call that sword control. All he was doing was floating a sword and launching it in a straight line. That wasn't a sword—it was just a bow. Having been coached by a real master of sword control, I couldn't help but scoff.

"If that's how you want to play it, I'll take it back. It belonged to Namgung in the first place."

I spun my body, let the blade slide past, and snatched Damro's hilt.

"What...?!"

Do-woon cried out in shock. Couldn't blame him. I'd trained by weaving between blades—agility was the one thing I was confident in.

The moment I gripped Damro, one of the Five Swords Under Heaven, the blade hummed as if it had a will of its own. The Five Swords Under Heaven had egos. Even if I was just a junior disciple, they were probably glad to be wielded by a Namgung swordsman.

His sword stolen, Wi Do-woon twisted his face in desperate resolve and shouted.

"Don't get comfortable. I'll smash you to pieces."

The pebbles gathered together, forming a gigantic hand. A palm posed against the backdrop of the ocean... now I was craving dried herring. The stone hand came crashing down, ready to crush me flat.

"Let's go, Damro."

As if answering my voice, blood-red cursed energy gathered in my grip. I brought the greatsword, now dyed a vivid crimson, down in a vertical slash through the palm's vital meridian.

The hand's form shattered, and the rebound sent the pebbles ricocheting straight back at the psychokinetic.

"I've never failed to control Qian-Kun Psychokinesis...!?"

He struck the classic psychokinetic pose—that crackling, hands-out stance everyone pictures—trying to stop the onslaught of pebbles, but his cursed energy scattered into nothing. Like a ship swallowed by the waves, Wi Do-woon was buried under the swarm of incoming gravel.

"Kh-ugh. So this is how a man of the Wi family dies... without ever achieving his great ambition of permanently transforming into a silver-haired loli..."

Glasses shattered, front teeth broken, Wi Do-woon's crumbling body forced the words out.

...He'd been this desperate over a gender-swap? Unbelievable. The Star's Fragment really couldn't be allowed to fall into these kids' hands.

Thud.

I leaned forward and drove the greatsword into the sand. Beomseong Iltu's duration had ended. The thing was heavy.

"I'm not killing you. Now that I've cooled my head, I've got a pretty good idea. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠You geriatric four-eyes."

"Huh?"

"Sure, the only footprints on this beach are mine. But why didn't the dead Rumira leave any?"

I picked up the head rolling around on the white sand. Four-eyes' eyes went wide as he protested furiously.

"What are you going to do with MiraMiracle's head? D-don't tell me!?"

"You act all refined, then immediately jump to something filthy. Hold on."

I bit into Rumira's neck like an apple. It didn't feel like tearing meat. More like rolling pudding around on my tongue. Soft, squishy, with a slightly spicy flavor.

"Hmph. Cannibalism? So you've given up on being human."

"I don't want to hear that from a guy whose dream is becoming a silver-haired loli. Look closely. This is High Undine slime. Looks like they made an object out of that High Undine from earlier. Feed it human blood, and it probably transforms into an exact copy of that person."

There was the kelpie that turned into a horse after drinking coconut milk, after all. I showed him the transparent gelatinous cross-section, just like an Undine. Four-eyes' jaw hung open.

"That's it. You'd said something bizarre about someone brutally killing people who were already down. Normally you'd assume it was the same culprit."

Something seemed to click behind his eyes. I rested my hand on my chin, sinking into thought.

"The problem is whether someone could mass-produce cursed tools that normally take forever to make—there's one person in Jujutsu Gwi-hwan who could, but why would they be here?"

"Swordsmaaaan—!"

Wi Do-woon shouted in panic, and I twisted my body just in time. A silver line nearly caught my neck. A mercury whip!?

"Whew. The 24-hour live death-game broadcast just got exposed, huh~? That's an NG take."

Spouting that nonsense, Rumira hovered in the sky, whip in hand. Not a scratch on her. Blue butterfly wings—the kind you'd picture on a fairy—fluttered from her back.

The wings of a Sylph, a spirit-type ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Nephilim that appeared in Lost Paradise. Ordin, crafting a flight-capable object from a Sylph would have taken a considerable amount of time, but—

"—I downplayed it in my report to Seonggwan Academy, but this great me's Corpse Eternal Night (Necro Smith) can turn the corpses of sorcerers or Nephilim into objects. It even reproduces their Innate Cursed Techniques, up to 50%. Like this~."

She said it in a cheerful tone, then swung the mercury whip, its tip transformed into something like an awl. She'd killed Dongbaek Rinje and turned her into a whip on the spot.

I gritted my teeth and raised Damro again, but the whip wasn't aiming at me.

Slash!

Wi Do-woon, his waist split open, was instantly objectified into a monocle and landed in Rumira's hand. Even in death, he was glasses. Talk about a consistent character.

"Psychokinesis, huh. Tch~, I would've preferred something like gravity manipulation. Oh well, I'll take it."

Rumira grumbled, but slotted the monocle into the gap of her eye anyway. She didn't seem to have any immediate killing intent toward me.

"You're not going to kill me?"

"Whew, you should treasure your life. I can't turn non-sorcerers into objects, you know. And besides, I kinda like the slasher-movie cliché where one person survives."

"A survivor has to spread the legend of the killer to the world," she said, miming a whistle.

"You came after the Star's Fragment too, didn't you."

I had to at least beat her.

Rumira cackled for a good while before answering.

"Nya-ha~. Wishes are only worth it if you make them come true yourself. The Star's Fragment is just a cheat, you know~?"

"Can't argue with that. Then why?"

"When I found out the Seaside School was located in Lost Paradise, I got this feeling like my balls were shrinking. Well, unfortunately, this great me is a natural-born girl, so I wouldn't really know that sensation."

Then why use that as an example. I found myself raising an eyebrow.

Lost Paradise. An ancient battlefield where the remains of a V-class Nephilim still lingered—the Second Beast, the one that bound time to the earth. Unlike Minogame, imprisoned in the Obelisk, the elongated bones of this dead colossus encircled the island.

That's it. I finally understood. What this girl was trying to do.

In contrast to my face twisting in horror, Rumira flashed her sharp fangs and laughed in a light, easy tone.

"Now, I'll show you with your own two eyes. The Seven Stars are nothing but a joke now~!"

Starting from Rumira, cracks spiderwebbed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠across the white sand, and a new place emerged. What unfolded as far as the eye could see was a gigantic columbarium. Eyesore graffiti, pastel tones like some social media hotspot—her taste was thoroughly rotten.

Carrion Mausoleum.

Even the giant bones of the Second Beast that bound time to the earth were being eroded by the Domain. They twisted and warped, until at last they transformed into a monstrous chainsaw...

"Stop!"

She didn't even glance at me as I tried to stop her. Mira flashed a V-sign, and a crystal tablet with wings floated up of its own accord, starting a broadcast on its own.

She revealed herself as an executive of the Seven Deadly Sins Cult, one of the villain organizations in Jujutsu Gwi-hwan alongside the Bad Friends Alliance. Judging by her souring expression, the comment section had exploded.

"I was a cyber religious terrorist? You're unsubscribing? Ehe. How rude~. That's why I'm going to try this."

"Pretty fun content, don't you think?"