Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 014
Chapter Title: Blood Ghost Hunt (2)
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Receiving the boss's blood carried that kind of meaning.
It was like slapping an "early retirement" sticker on a perfectly normal life.
It was no longer daytime for Lee Junhyeok to be out and about.
Hell.
There was no other word to describe it. Sunlight burrowed into his skin like a vicious loan shark, relentless and unforgiving.
And it wasn't just hot. Under the sun, every single cell in his body screamed as if it were burning alive.
'Fuck, this sucks.'
The thought crossed his mind dozens of times a day—no, too many to count.
And every time, only one thing came to mind: ice and shake. Those were the only escapes that let him forget the blood thirst and the agony of reality, even if just for a moment.
Junhyeok thought that today, too, after this endless shift, he'd light up a fat one in the warehouse.
Just imagining it made his legs tremble with anticipation.
Right then, his colleague and junior, Nam Taejun, came sauntering over from the corner, chuckling away. Maybe because he was still fresh to turning Blood Ghost, the guy's face had an annoyingly healthy glow.
"Bro, you look like you just high-fived the Grim Reaper himself. At this rate, forget sunscreen—you need blackout curtains wrapped around your head."
His cocky tone was the same as ever, but having someone spout this kind of nonsense was a relief. If he were alone, he might've really lost it. Lee Junhyeok forced the corner of his mouth up.
"Shut up, kid. You think you're any different? It's just a matter of time for you."
"True that. Anyway, we hitting one today? You know, to turn this shitty reality into paradise for a bit."
Taejun's words made ice and shake shimmer right before his eyes.
"...After shift."
He didn't have the energy for more chit-chat. Junhyeok glared out the window.
Waiting for that damned sun to set was his only routine.
It was right then.
Bang—! Bang! Bang!
A deafening roar tore through the stuffy office air from outside. No mere noise—it was unmistakably gunfire.
Junhyeok and Taejun froze solid. The joking atmosphere vanished in an instant.
"What the fuck?"
Junhyeok's drowsy eyes sharpened in a flash.
He exchanged a silent glance with Taejun. All the playfulness had drained from the guy's face.
They rose cautiously from their seats. Whatever was happening outside, it wasn't good.
These things always targeted the shadows.
The explosive gunfire from outside turned the building into chaos.
"Fuck, that's gunshots!"
"Where the hell's it coming from?!"
The panicked gang members rushed out to check, stumbling over each other. Lee Chang watched them coolly, unfazed.
"There's a simple way to tell Blood Ghosts from humans."
As Lee Chang murmured low, another shot ripped through the air.
Bang—!
One rushing out lost his head and crumpled. The sudden death froze the rest in place.
"They reek of iron, enough to sting your nose."
Bang—!
The next shot shattered another frozen Blood Ghost's skull.
"Their pupils are red."
Bang—!
The head exploded, spraying the distinctive rotten red blood of a Blood Ghost.
"Above all, they can't handle sunlight."
Though the building's interior let in no light, of course.
Unlike the Yankee thugs lounging at the entrance, those bursting from inside were mostly Korean. Spotting me and Lee Chang, they couldn't hide their panic.
"Fuck, who the hell are these guys? Blood faction?"
"Sniff sniff, they smell human. And Blood faction wears modified hanbok, not suits anyway."
"You idiots! Just grab 'em and kill 'em—why you mumbling?! This is our turf...!"
One burly guy drew a sashimi knife and charged with a roar. The blue blade gleamed menacingly in the dim hallway light.
But it never reached Lee Chang. The Beast spat fire first.
Krunch—!
The charger's head evaporated. Unbelievable destruction from a single bullet.
The headless bulk flailed briefly before collapsing limply.
"Brother Junhyeok! You fucker!"
One went berserk at the sight but ate a trigger pull—his head gone too.
A cokehead watching from behind ranted in incomprehensible Russian curses.
He seemed to be their ringleader. Grabbing a hesitant underling's head, he crushed it barehanded and bellowed.
"Dog fuck (Suka Blyat)! You yellow monkey shits, rush 'em if you don't wanna die by my hand!"
That lit the fuse.
The Blood Ghosts kicked off simultaneously. Footfalls thundered in unison.
Speeds too fierce for human eyes—mere afterimages. The hallway air screamed, pushed aside.
But Lee Chang didn't blink. As if waiting, his body sprang into motion.
Bang! Rat-tat-tat! Boom!
Eardrum-shattering blasts burst the charging Blood Ghosts' heads.
What followed was like a masterclass action flick.
One to the temple of the left flanker, another to the jaw underside of the right pouncer.
Dodging a flying hand axe by bending at the waist, crossing muzzles overhead to drop both sides at once.
No flashy rolls or wall-kicks. Minimal moves read every incoming trajectory, slipping into gaps to plant bullets. Like a veteran gamer who'd memorized every boss pattern, toying with them.
What, you think you're Chow Yun-fat or something?
With skills like that, couldn't you have cleaned up alone without me? Ridiculous. I couldn't help a wry chuckle.
Lee Chang soloed about twenty like that.
Click.
The Beast finally fell silent. Out of ammo—trigger pulls yielded only smoke.
The cokehead ringleader caught it, yelling to Blood Ghosts descending from upstairs.
"Hey, he's out of bullets! Crush him!"
Lee Chang glanced their way, then to me behind him.
"Cover me while I reload."
"Yes, sir."
Perfect timing—my body was itching for action.
Stepping forward, I drew the Four Tiger Sword from its sheath at my waist.
Ah, that cool, heavy feel.
A whole month since I'd held it.
Endless, exhausting training was over.
Time for 'Sword Saint' Kim Woojin to return.
"Ha, a tsurugi? A mere human wielding a cold weapon against us Blood Ghosts...!"
One gang member sneered at my sword and lunged.
Arrogance filled his eyes. Helpless against guns, but a knife-wielding human? Easy prey.
Slash.
But my blade severed his arrogance—and neckbone—in one clean stroke.
No resistance. Just a neat cut. He staggered a few steps, unaware of his death, before falling.
That sparked it. The remaining six swarmed from all sides.
My body moved on instinct. Instead of parrying the right-side blade, I twisted aside, swinging.
He passed me oblivious, then his halves separated and crumpled.
Two from the left—I ducked between their arcs, spinning to behead both.
No wasted motion. My body traced the optimal kill path, honed by endless drills.
Splitting the last charger's skull vertically, I muttered at the first's severed neck.
"This ain't a katana, it's the Four Tiger Sword, dumbass."
Don't slander my sword like that, huh? Making it sound like some Japanese blade.
Realizing neither I nor Lee Chang was ordinary, the survivors edged back.
The Yankee ringleader raged, drawing hand axes.
Thud! Thunk! Thud! Thud!
He mercilessly hacked his five retreating underlings' necks, then advanced himself.
Lee Chang, reloaded and chewing gum loudly, asked.
"You cool killing all your men like that?"
"No room for pussies in our outfit."
Roaring with his words, the ringleader charged.
But I sheathed my sword instead. Turning to Lee Chang.
"Boss's head's still upstairs, right?"
"Bet so."
The ringleader halted, puzzled.
"Why sheathe now?"
Tilting my head at him.
"Huh, still alive? Figures for a Blood Ghost. Tough bastard."
"What're you—"
Before he finished, his head lolled.
A thin red line traced neck to body—then it tumbled free.
Ignoring the silently slain, Lee Chang and I headed to the second floor.
With the first cleared, no more blockers.
Entering the VIP room—the largest on the floor—a queen bed held five mummified women's corpses. A man in just pants sat atop them.
His cold blue eyes fixed on us as he muttered.
"Suits. Bureau hunting dogs, huh."
Despite the jab, Lee Chang fired back coolly in Russian.
"Gutsy for a mosquito (komar) sucking human blood to survive."
Vladimir lifted his head at that, face twisting into a smile.
"Keep talking."
"What, hate komar? Want me to call you mutt (gibrid) instead?"
Mutt.
That hit a nerve. Rising, Vladimir's body tripled in size. His mouth elongated, black beast fur sprouting over the massive frame.
"Excellent. Hunting dog."
"......"
"You pissed me off, so specially—your innards salted and pickled (marinovaniye), flesh minced into aspic (kholodets) as grave offerings for my men."
I shot Lee Chang a silent scream.
'Wait, you said Patrol Entity level earlier.'
This thing looked like it'd devour Patrol Entities for breakfast!