Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Wolf
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Thud. Roll.
A severed head bounced down the stairs.
The splash as it hit the pool of blood on the floor was like a starting gun.
"......Haa, haa......"
A ragged, grating rasp tore from my own throat.
The mob that had been charging down screaming just moments ago
could no longer make a sound.
Now they were just tangled limbs and spilling guts,
turning the stairs into a slick red slide.
"......Hoo."
I gripped the railing and barely managed to stand.
My legs were shaking so badly that even staying upright was torture.
My condition wasn't good.
No, it was absolute shit.
My left shoulder was mangled, and there was another knife slash on my side.
The worst was my thigh.
A rusty spear had gouged into the flesh of one thigh and punched clean through to the other side.
I'd snapped off the annoying shaft,
but the spearhead and jagged stump of wood were still grotesquely embedded in my muscles.
Pulling it out now would rip open a massive hole,
and all the blood in my body would gush out. I'd be dead for sure.
"Fuck, this hurts like hell... Ngh..."
I wiped the cold sweat dripping down my forehead and flicked it onto the floor, then looked up.
Thankfully, it was quiet now.
I stepped over the pile of corpses,
dragging my skewered leg as I climbed the stairs.
Squelch. Squelch.
Every time I lifted a foot, it stuck with a sticky pull.
With every step, the metal chunk inside my thigh scraped at my muscles, stabbing pain straight into my brain.
I passed the second floor and reached the final stairs to the third.
I stopped there for a moment.
My heart was pounding like mad,
and my vision kept blurring, so I blinked rapidly.
It hurt like hell, but I was getting so damn sleepy.
...Maybe just a quick nap?
Snap.
As if. I bit my tongue hard.
The metallic tang of blood flooding my mouth forced me to focus.
I stood before the double doors at the top—the only ones still closed.
This was it.
Beyond these doors was the source of all this chaos, the drugs, the whole fucking mess.
I took a deep breath and shoved them open.
Creeeak—!
The hinges screamed as the doors flew wide.
"......"
The room inside was ridiculously luxurious, completely out of place in this slaughterhouse.
A red carpet covered the floor,
and expensive paintings hung all over the walls.
It was like a crude imitation of a noble's study,
vulgar and tacky, the room of some parvenu.
And at the far end of the room.
Behind a massive desk sat a lone man.
His hair was neatly slicked back, and he wore a high-end silk shirt that slum rats could never dream of.
And the epaulets draped over his shoulders.
'Scorpion.'
The king of the slums.
He didn't even flinch when I entered.
He just slowly swirled the whiskey glass in his hand and eyed me with interest.
"......Impressive. You climbed up here looking like that?"
He spoke.
His voice was low and resonant.
Not the crude slang of street thugs, but the refined accent of an educated man.
"Those things downstairs..."
"Yeah. All dead."
I leaned against the doorframe and held up my battered axe.
"You're the last one."
"Hmm."
Scorpion curled his lip and rose from his chair.
As he moved into view, the silk shirt stretched taut over his frame.
A giant. But no flab—he looked anything but slow.
Broad shoulders tapering perfectly to a narrow waist in an inverted triangle,
and every flex of his arms made the muscles writhe visibly beneath the thin fabric.
'...Goddamn it.'
I could tell at a glance. This wasn't some backyard muscle.
It was properly honed, battle-forged.
This guy wasn't like that viper punk, some small-fry boss relying on minions.
Rip.
I tore off the mask covering my face and tossed it aside.
With it gone, my breathing eased a bit.
My body was already in bad shape,
and facing a guy like this, I needed to ditch anything that might get in the way.
Scorpion's eyes narrowed.
He stared at my face intently, then
"......Ha."
let out a hollow chuckle.
"So you're the ballsy bastard who torched the warehouse in Sector 8...
A familiar face, huh."
Shing.
He drew the sword leaning against the desk.
Not some thug's crude junk,
but a well-maintained longsword, its edge gleaming without a speck of rust.
"Kaintrea's monster."
"I fucking hate that nickname, you piece of shit?"
I spat a bloody gob onto the floor and glared at him.
His stance was natural.
Feet shoulder-width apart, sword tip steady as a rock.
From the angle of his grip to how he distributed his weight.
Then it hit me.
"Oh... right. About two years ago, wasn't there that rumor?
Some pathetic knight got booted from his family for embezzling funds."
I sneered, and Scorpion's eyebrow twitched.
"Word was, this high-grade knight had tarnished every honor he had.
That you?" Pfft....
"......You've got a long tongue."
Yeah, figured.
At that moment,
Humm—
a low vibration hummed, and faint light bloomed along his blade.
A bluish shimmer rippling like heat haze.
"......Ha."
I let out a dry laugh. I wanted to doubt my eyes, but it was unmistakable.
Aura.
Faded and shaky compared to what Kain showed, on the verge of flickering out,
but that old monster was a freak.
"Even rotten, you're still high-grade, huh? You can even fake it."
In my current state, even that sloppy Aura was a disaster waiting to happen.
"Fake... Not wrong."
Scorpion smirked.
"My talent's too poor to go further.
Even so..."
He tightened his grip on the sword with both hands,
"I'll show you the difference in our class.
From lowly birth like yours."
The room filled with his killing intent.
"......How'd you know my birth was lowly?"
My skin prickled all over.
I swallowed dryly and readjusted my handaxe grip.
No running. Turn my back, and he'd cleave me in two.
"Don't act all noble, you trash.
Knight or whatever... this place,"
I forced strength into my speared leg,
baring my teeth in a grin.
"This place... is just the same damn sewer!!"
With my shout, I kicked off the floor.
I swung the axe straight for his neck without hesitation.
Simple, brutal, and the surest strike.
But he didn't dodge.
Slash.
Not metal clashing, but the sound of slicing something soft.
The heavy weight in my hand vanished in an instant.
The axe blade sheared off like tofu the moment it touched his Aura blade.
"Keep barking."
His sword whipped back in a half-moon arc.
The bluish glow lunged for my throat.
I instinctively leaned back.
Shlick—!
Sharp pain, and my vision went red.
A long gash from forehead to cheek. No time to fully dodge.
A clump of hair floated down, severed.
Crash!
I rolled across the floor to gain distance, but he didn't let up.
He stepped forward, closing in on my breath.
"Where do you think you're running?"
Whoosh!
The sword tip grazed my chest.
Not just grazed. The Aura-charged edge dug into my flesh,
"Guh!"
burning like fire, my side searing away.
I yanked a dagger from my bosom.
"You... fucker!"
I thrust for his lower body.
But he twisted his blade slightly to deflect, then
swung for my arm.
Dodge. I could dodge this.
Slower than that old monster Kain's sword by a mile.
But,
Thud!
The spearhead in my leg snagged my ankle.
"Gaaah!!"
His sword deeply slashed my left forearm.
The flesh peeled back like rind, blood spurting.
Almost took the bone.
"Haa... haa... ngh..."
I clutched my dangling arm and staggered back.
Blood poured, soaking the carpet.
Dizziness hit. Vision flickering.
This was Aura.
Grazed and it shreds flesh, rattles bone—the knights' privilege.
Couldn't block it with the same steel.
Can't block? Then dodge.
But my body wouldn't obey.
Thud.
And so, my knees buckled on their own.
"Hup... ha... cough......"
"Get it now?"
Scorpion shook the blood from his blade and approached slowly.
His expression bored, almost lazy.
"This is reality.
The truth of you, strutting on Kaintrea's name."
He looked down.
Like at a bug crawling on the floor.
Kaintrea's name.
Hearing that,
"Uh... ha, who... said I was riding coattails."
I spat back, mixing in involuntary laughter.
"You think... I'm doing this for fun?
Some slum rat high on his own shit...
Coming to smash your drug-dealing asses... that what I look like?"
Honestly, I was at my limit. Couldn't fight anymore.
So,
"...Cut the bullshit. Those guys are desperate 'cause they can't catch me.
Threaten to kill me if I don't. What choice do I got?"
I'm dying here anyway,
"You selling powder, killing folks... what do I care.
Fuck, really... my life's... the most precious thing to me. Got it?"
Might as well vent one last time.
"Kill me right... you bastard."
Thud.
After spilling it all,
my other knee gave out too.
Might as well close these heavy eyelids.
Ah, what an ugly way to go.
Panting like a dog, kneeling politely on both knees.
That long blade'll lop my head clean off.
...Whatever. I did what I could.
Struggled to survive,
failed, so die.
At least he's a scrub with Aura, however weak.
Won't get chopped once and done—I'll get hacked multiple times,
but if I go, it'll be quick.
Nothing else to hope for.
....
.....
......What now? Not killing me?
"......Do you hate nobles?"
His voice suddenly.
I opened my eyes.
Same scene, Scorpion looking down.
But his eyes were different.
Not bug-squashing glare.
A little softer.
......Huh?
......Eh, whatever.
So what if I hate them?
"......Who doesn't?"
I swallowed another bloody lump,
"Those lucky shits born with silver spoons, breathing easy and living large,
while scum like me swims in shit and blood?"
That resentment, same in past life and this one.
While one changes diapers for a dementia dad,
another cruises in sports cars, banging chicks.
While one does ass shows to save a legless whore mom,
another stuffs his face with grease nightly at orgy parties.
It burned.
"Exactly. Infuriating, right."
Scorpion chuckled.
Lips up, but a lonely smile.
"I was the same. Devoted to my house. Swung my sword with everything I had.
But know what I got back?"
He tapped the floor with his sword tip.
"Unpaid wages. And orders to watch my sick daughter die.
I needed money to save her. So I embezzled. No, took my due."
He paused,
gaze distant.
"But soon, this rotten world will flip."
"......What?"
"Not just Bellua. Fires are kindling in two other kingdoms already."
Scorpion picked up the red powder on the desk—Paradise Dust.
"This is just the start.
From the slums, it'll strangle those high nobles' necks too."
So,
a revolution to change the world.
An upheaval to overturn the heavens.
That's the grand, dangerous bullshit he was spouting.
"I'm just spreading it here on orders.
Those purifying this rot, building new order. One of......"
The viper nods,
"Yeah, in your words, a lowly pawn."
Like seeking camaraderie,
he smiled at me.
I narrowed my eyes.
So even this guy's not the head.
Not making the powder either.
Behind the dealers. And behind their backers.
From his talk, something far bigger and deadlier lurked.
Ridiculous.
[The ones distributing that powder. And their boss.]
[Find them all and wipe them out.]
Game over from the start.
Should've just said 'fuck it, kill me' back then—less hassle, cleaner death.
"...I see. So what's that fancy group's name?"
"Curious?"
Scorpion extended his hand.
The one that was about to kill me now sheathed its sword,
beckoning me.
"I see potential in you. Suppressed rage, killer instinct for survival.
Of course, the losses from you aren't trivial..."
He trailed off, then snorted,
"But powder overflows, and the useless dead by your hand? Replace 'em.
All trivial. Buried."
And, grinning slyly, he whispered,
"Well? Die as the nobles' dog,
or become a wolf to overturn the world."
I thought about it.
Dog or wolf,
both just beast cubs, right?
So I asked,
"......One question. If I take your hand now,"
"Kaintrea, the Church."
"Can we kill those fuckers all?"
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