Ten Thousand to One
I got completely played.
Kim Minchul rendered that verdict on the situation he now found himself in.
He did not consider his own design flawed.
After all, their last battle had confirmed it: an overwhelming gap in information existed between himself and Park Woochan. Everything he had done since was an attempt to bridge it — and this was the result. His reason for abducting a high school girl whose name he couldn't even remember anymore was no different.
If anything had caught him off guard, it was that the girl had proven uselessly stubborn. And perhaps, too, how absurdly quickly Park Woochan had crashed the party. Thanks to that, he'd been forced into a fight without ever seeing Woochan's signature move — without even knowing what the man's hobbies were.
And the result was this.
He had barely scraped out a victory through a strategy of trading flesh for bone — only to be defeated, moments later, by a single blow from Park Woochan, who had shrugged off the Photosphere entirely and charged straight through it. How on earth had he managed that?
Well, isn't this something.
No trump card existed that could turn this situation around now. And so, with a strange bitterness welling up inside him, Kim Minchul was able to look up at the blade descending toward his own head.
…Though a rueful feeling was there too, truth be told.
Kim Minchul had been born a warrior.
Regret over his defeat, naturally, existed as well.
But.
At the same time, there was something he could not help but acknowledge: Park Woochan's skill in overturning a deficit of raw power with information and tactics alone.
Precisely because he himself was a warrior, the only thing Kim Minchul could offer was pure, unadulterated praise.
And so.
In place of the battle he had already made peace with, Kim Minchul thought instead about what came after.
The victor of this fight was Park Woochan. Not him.
Which meant — Park Woochan had proven himself the warrior of higher standing.
Hm.
To Kim Minchul, that carried a meaning far beyond a simple win or loss.
Only the greatest warrior of the age could win the heart of the goddess Tiamat. His warped ideology believed that fairy-tale notion with utter, religious conviction.
If so.
What if he fell here? Even if he fled, it would change nothing. The fact that Park Woochan had struck him down would not simply vanish from the record.
Then what?
After he fell — or in the years he spent honing his strength to challenge Park Woochan once more — could Kim Minchul truly accept the goddess keeping Park Woochan at her side?
…No. I can't.
Before the gleaming blade could touch the crown of his head, Kim Minchul reached his conclusion.
And.
The next instant, his mana exploded.
*
HOT HOT FUCK!!
A heartbeat before I could bring my blade down, a burst of flame erupted out of nowhere and I stumbled back a full step, shouting without even meaning to. It was nearly instinct. It had to be.
A violent upheaval of mana was surging up around Kim Minchul. To someone with my mana-sensitivity, it looked less like an aura and more like a volcano going off — a churning geyser of mana in every clashing color at once. One glance was enough to tell this was nothing resembling normal mana control. Before my brain could render proper judgment, my gut was already sounding the alarm.
Fuck, what NOW?
If Kim Minchul had been trying to bolt through the opening, I wouldn't have been this startled. Honestly, in that case my blade would've likely already opened his throat — and when I say "likely," I mean ninety-percent likely, since I also have to account for the odds of a meteor suddenly falling on my head. That's how decisive the moment was.
And by that same math, Kim Minchul's mana discharge was blowing entirely past all reasonable bounds. Which meant I knew full well there was no chance he was suddenly awakening some hidden power right in front of me.
So then — what the hell was this?
This mana exceeded even the limits I'd estimated for him across two whole battles—
No wait, fuck it. Just die cleanly, Minchul!! It's a self-destruct.
That was the only conclusion possible.
Haha, quick on the uptake, aren't you?!
Oh for fuck's— Minchul!! Let's think this through! Why the sudden tantrum? Feeling an urge to vent all that childhood abuse and repression onto society, huh?!
This one never laid a hand on you!!
Heh heh, you speak so well. …Yes. It's all your fault, Park Woochan. If only you had never existed—!!
Fuck. Does this bastard not know what the word "logic" means? Where were your guardians when it got to this point?!
The crazy one here, by my reckoning, is you!!
It was a total circus.
But even though I was riffing like it was a joke, there was nothing remotely funny about resolving it that way. The flames erupting around Kim Minchul were becoming blades and barriers in themselves. I whipped out Choi Seungjun's mana crystal on pure reflex, teeth grinding audibly.
This alone won't be enough.
It was the same problem as the fight just now. Back then I'd used scheming and information to drag Kim Minchul — a full step above me in direct combat — down to my level. Depending on circumstances and conditions, Kim Minchul could just as easily perform beyond Choi Seungjun.
For example: right now. When I had exactly one mana crystal, and Kim Minchul was scraping his remaining mana out of the barrel and dumping it all onto the table. Or worse — overclocking his mana channels with the clear intent of detonating himself.
Theoretically speaking, that was the maximum output permitted to mankind. Even Choi Seungjun, hailed as the greatest talent on the planet, could not reverse this situation.
Even if Kim Minchul's signature skill were a single devastating strike burning an absurd reservoir of mana, it could not pass through Seungjun's crystal. But the digits involved were on entirely different scales. Suppose Choi Seungjun's power at magnitude 1 could comfortably handle Kim Minchul's mana at magnitude 10 — it wouldn't matter. For a single strike, what I could borrow from Seungjun's ability amounted to exactly one crystal's worth. Meanwhile, Kim Minchul was burning through his own lifeline, as if even hurling every last drop of his remaining mana into this one blow weren't enough.
There was no contending with that. The madness of immolating every scrap of his mana in a single stroke — and then overclocking past the sane ceiling on top of it. Even a crystal carrying Choi Seungjun's power had never been designed with this scenario in mind.
The real problem was that I had no idea why the bastard was suddenly doing this… and frankly, it didn't matter. It's not like I can read a lunatic's mind. Maybe he just finds me repulsive.
If I die here, you'll win the goddess's love, won't you?
Goddammit, he's launched into his monologue. Hey, Tiamat! Say something! Anything! Persuade him! PERSUADE!!
L-Love? What on earth are you talking about?!
This is genuinely insane.
I acknowledge your strength. But I cannot accept that ending.
Um, nobody asked.
So let us vanish together. Fortunately, she will come to no harm — it appears she is an avatar, after all.
Ugh, fuck. Does this bastard not know what a conversation is?!
Of course, marring her avatar by my own hand is a source of no small sorrow… but to compose my final scene before her very eyes — that, I find quite satisfying.
Goddammit.
He's started spouting backstory nobody asked about…!
I once thought a chatty villain would make for a convenient opponent. Clearly I was mistaken. Especially in a situation like this one.
We're fucked.
I'd made noises about persuasion, but honestly, I hadn't expected much. If this guy were the type to stop at Tiamat's word, we'd never have gotten into this mess in the first place. The only thing that mattered was the situation in front of me.
Hoo… focus.
Unlike the Photosphere, my signature demands an overwhelming volume of mana. And right now, I could use mine too. Cut Prettily.
With this, I could probably take Kim Minchul's head right through the curtain of fire. But this was not a situation that could be solved simply by cutting off his head.
Think of it this way: Kim Minchul was an oil drum — one with a hole punched clean through the bottom. Now, suppose I sliced that drum in half. Sure, the leak would stop. The vessel itself would be gone entirely. But what if someone happened to light a cigarette? The whole thing would vanish without a trace.
Same principle. Suppose I fired off my signature and killed Kim Minchul. Then what? A dead Kim Minchul. Mana with no one left to control it. And scattered embers all around. Kim Minchul was a fire-wielder — if his refined mana made contact with masterless flame, a catastrophic explosion could follow. The total mana pool of an S-rank hunter specializing in ignition. And if Kim Minchul's own signature were added on top of that? Even my mana and Tiamat's would become fuel.
As a rule, the maximum firepower an A-rank or higher hunter or monster can produce exceeds that of a nuclear bomb. So then — two S-rank hunters and one A+ rank monster, self-detonating with everyone's mana as fuel. What tier would that land at?
I couldn't calculate the exact figure. But one thing was certain: we were fucked.
Fuck. Honestly, I'd thought it from the very beginning — this Kim Minchul bastard has the worst possible matchup with me.
Cursing under my breath, I shattered the second mana crystal in my hand and spread it across the blade. The greatsword flared with the sharpest light it had held since the battle began. Confirming the frost crawling over its edge, I barked at the self-proclaimed goddess.
Hey. Get lost.
…Pardon?
You're nothing but a liability, so get lost.
Carrying my own body out of here and escaping — that much wasn't impossible. The mana was churning violently, and Tiamat was right beside me. Optimal conditions for stepping through Shukuchi.
The problem was the fallout. An S-rank hunter's self-detonation, powered by his entire mana reserve, would almost certainly drag half of New City into it. A catastrophe of the highest order.
Which meant I had to stop it here. And at this exact moment, there was exactly one possibility, however slim, of halting the detonation: my signature skill.
Cut the instant it detonates.
Whether I could time it that precisely, who knew. I'd even called on Choi Seungjun's crystal — but suppressing the flying embers depended entirely on his power. It was a pure gamble. A situation where even "trust to luck and heaven" felt generous — but not a zero-percent chance. If it worked, great. If not, I'd run immediately. Not to survive — but to avoid dedicating my own mana to Kim Minchul's self-immolation.
To burn to death in some godforsaken hole in the ground? What a miserable fucking way to go. But there was nothing to be done about it. I could only think, of course I'd get tangled up with a lunatic — what rotten luck.
Well. Either way — I needed to get at least those two out of here. Tiamat could honestly drop dead for all I cared, except she'd become an A+ rank fuel tank in the process. And Hayeon… if she got caught in it, she'd be a genuine, honest-to-god victim.
Sorry about this, kid.
I stole a glance at Hayeon's face. The sight of her slightly swollen cheek made my chest ache all on its own.
Hahaha, what a tearful sacrifice! Have you finally understood love at long last, my friend?! Yes, I had my suspicions. You seem to be gazing upon the vision of a girlfriend in that girl!
What the fuck did you just say?
Since when do I have a girlfriend?
I quietly stilled my mind. Mad ramblings I wouldn't understand even if I listened — no reason to lend them an ear.
The target was a single instant. I swung the sword at the optimal angle. If he were a monster, maybe I could afford less — but right now, even wringing out every drop of concentration felt insufficient.
Even as I adjusted my grip on the greatsword with that thought, Tiamat did not retreat. She simply murmured, quietly.
However did it come to this…
Huh?
I wonder what I lacked. Why could I never raise Minchul-ie into someone like you?
…Am I livestock to you?
That was my involuntary reaction. But.
The next moment, my eyes narrowed against my will. Because mana was slowly gathering at Tiamat's fingertips.
Wait, what?
What?
What the hell are you saying, you lunatic?
Her true body might be another matter, but the thing standing here was, at most, a mere avatar. There was no way in hell she could block Kim Minchul's self-detonation.
And yet — to my mana-sensitivity, it was plain. What gathered about her hand was nothing other than a blessing. A grace meant to lend strength to another.
…A sudden premonition struck me. The day I first met Tiamat — the fact that the Association had tried to grant me a Constellation's favor on her behalf came flooding back.
Uh, fuck. Hold on. What are you doing.
Fear not.
No, wait. Hold on. Fuck — no way. You're not—
Worry not, I said.
AAAHH!! WAIT, you crazy woman!! I was wrong, whatever it was, I was wrong!! Stop, STOP!!
A future in which a monster's mana entered my body flickered before my eyes. I screamed, vision going white. And even so—
the goddess, merciless, released that mana and cast it out.
AAAAAHHH!! FUCK, MOTHER—!!
…But.
The next instant, nothing happened to me at all.
Huh?
It was Kim Minchul, instead, who cried out — because the blessing the goddess Tiamat had unleashed had settled into his body. Riding the contract between the two of them, the blessing leapt across the curtain of flame and ignited. Startled by the fact himself, Kim Minchul nevertheless closed his eyes, savoring the goddess's grace flowing into him for the first time in so long.
Brilliant mana-light. I could see his mana refining itself one further step into a form that suited him perfectly.
…Ha, hahahaha! As expected — as expected! You have chosen me, have you not, O Goddess!
His mouth opened to roar it — but no words ever came out.
Because.
The next instant, Kim Minchul's head went sailing into the sky.
Uh… what the fuck.
I said it too — for an entirely different reason than Kim Minchul.
My signature. Cut Prettily.
Just now, without meaning to, I had swung the technique whose perfect timing I'd been painstakingly measuring. And — as it happened — the arc I'd released pierced straight through the very possibility I'd hoped a one-in-ten-thousand chance might cover, and cleaved everything in two.
The upper floor of the abandoned factory. Kim Minchul's life. Even the mana still coalescing around him. The formula composing my signature split it all precisely down the middle. The cold flowing along the blade smothered the surrounding flames. The seething mana, robbed of its head in an instant, shot upward and dispersed — a momentary vacuum. And beyond it, nothing happened at all.
The possibility I'd braced myself to thank the heavens for at even one in ten thousand had simply walked into my hand. Because right in front of me stood not an S-rank hunter, but an S-rank monster — and against a monster, even a vanishingly thin chance was, for me, trivially easy.
The detonation that could have wiped New City off the map was severed by a sword-strike swung on pure instinct. The blow I released without thinking brought this battle to its end.