Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Grasping and Shaking the Weak Point
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Asking if they had called me in this situation was pointless. After all, it was just me and them here.
At my curt reply, the three exchanged glances. The man who had first called me out spoke up.
"It's just as we thought."
"What is?"
"We figured you had some guts."
"From back at the gambling den?"
At my languid response, the man grinned widely.
"If you already know, then this'll go quickly."
The three men drew weapons they had hidden in their clothes.
A staff and clubs. No blades, so they weren't meant for killing outright, but that didn't mean those weapons couldn't end a life.
Beat someone until their bones shattered and flesh pulped, and they'd die eventually.
'Tch.'
I clicked my tongue inwardly. I had realized who these bastards belonged to.
'Brothel enforcers who drag back runaway whores.'
They carried bladeless weapons so the merchandise wouldn't get damaged. But that wasn't all they did.
One man's weapon had nails hammered into the end, crusted with dark red blood scabs.
'Probably from some whore's pillar man who ran with her.'
They would've beaten him bloody as an example to warn her. Run again, and you'll end up like this.
Wounds from a nailed club were gruesome. Seeing that would've crushed any whore's will to escape.
'Figures the worst scum would stick to places like this.'
Anyway, it was all good.
I could finish this without a shred of guilt. Not that I had any to begin with.
The lead man raised his club and slapped it against his palm.
"You look like a pampered young master. I'll go easy on you as a special favor."
"What favor?"
"Leave the money you came with out of it. Just hand over what you made today and go."
The man beside him thumped his club on the ground. Metal nails clinked at the end.
"Drop it here and we'll let you walk."
The third man, with a scar near his eye, cracked his knuckles.
A blatant threat. Of course, it didn't faze me one bit.
I chuckled.
"And if I don't feel like it?"
The three looked at each other, faces saying they'd seen every kind of lunatic. The leader answered.
"Then you get beat."
"Go ahead."
I beckoned arrogantly with my fingers, letting open mockery curl my lips.
"If you can."
It was bravado backed by something real.
"That little shit!"
The last man charged with his club raised high, swinging wide at me.
I slipped a hand into my clothes, eyes gleaming.
'Low.'
With the thought, I bent my knees and dropped low. His wide swing made dodging easy.
My fingertips brushed the dagger I carried for self-defense.
'What to do.'
The deliberation was brief, the decision instant. My body moved as if drawn by something.
"-!"
In one motion drawing the dagger, my hand thrust forward. Straight at his unguarded lower body.
"Aaaagh!"
Fast and fierce, the sharp blade sliced his ankle. Crimson blood trailed the arc.
He clutched his ankle and collapsed.
"Argh! Damn it."
Cursing, he tried to stand on one knee. Or at least, he tried.
"Agh...!"
Just a cut behind the ankle, yet he writhed as if the whole thing were severed. He never set that foot down again.
"Urk."
Leaning on his club, he barely rose. Even dragging the injured ankle looked agonizing.
I struggled not to show surprise.
'This body...'
In the original story, Abel had never learned swordsmanship. But his experience cutting 'human' flesh surpassed anyone in the territory.
He knew exactly where to slice for maximum pain, where to disable movement. With brutal precision.
And that knowledge was etched deep into this flesh.
'Cutting others... feels too natural.'
Near-instinctive weakness spotting, zero hesitation in slashing, movements precise enough to chill the blood.
He was... a genius killer.
'No wonder he'll be the empire's unprecedented murder demon.'
I gripped the dagger tighter. Blood scent flooded my nostrils.
"......"
Blood seeped with every twitch, staining the ground.
Thump, thump.
My heart raced painfully fast. I pressed a hand to my chest, frowning.
'What is this feeling?'
The wild pounding felt like pure exhilaration. Abel's heart was truly reveling now.
'So that's it.'
I belatedly recalled why Abel's father never taught him swordsmanship.
Abel was born reveling in bloodshed, gripped by murderous mania that surged periodically, spurring him on.
'That's why Diego constantly suppressed and controlled him.'
I bit the soft flesh inside my cheek.
Whispers like hallucinations urged me on. Slash that bastard's chest, rip out his heart.
Seductive, overpowering murmurs. Surrender to this body, and everything would feel right.
'...No. Don't listen.'
I clung to reason, fighting back to reality. Giving in here would be irreversible.
I tensed my core, exhaling slowly. Willing my heaving heart to calm.
It felt eternally long and agonizing, though mere seconds passed. I endured wave after wave of swallowing impulses.
"......"
At last, the voice filling my head faded.
My raging heart quieted to my will. My hand, poised to lunge at the prey, went limp.
'Whew.'
A relief.
But I couldn't relax. Enemies still faced me.
Short deep breath, then eyes back to the writhing bastard.
"Why not just rest?"
I moistened my parched throat, forcing casual ease.
"That leg won't hold you for a while."
"Urgh..."
My words sealed his futile struggles. Rage and terror made his cheeks tremble.
Of course, he didn't charge again. I stepped past him.
"What the hell is this guy?"
"What just...?"
The remaining two showed clear panic.
Their plan hadn't accounted for this.
"Who's next?"
I flicked the bloodied dagger lightly.
Now I got it. I hadn't needed any ace up my sleeve.
Here and now, Abel was their clear predator.
"Who's it gonna be?"
"You dare, to Luis!"
Another charged, yelling.
Seriously, even these thugs had brotherhood?
"That one's Luis?"
Giggling, I faced him. His excitement made his swings sloppier; dodging was easier.
A slight sidestep evaded it. His unguarded back exposed.
I stabbed the dagger into the back of his knee.
"Graaagh!"
He collapsed clutching his leg.
"Cut here, and you won't walk."
"Urk, uurrgh..."
He thrashed to rise, but his body betrayed him.
Like a dying elder's, no matter how he strained, he couldn't stand.
"Uurrgh..."
Tears streamed from his eyes.
I stared blankly at him on the ground.
The human body was frailer than thought. Hit one vital spot, and it was done.
From Abel's 'hunts,' prey sometimes got chances to flee. Chains snapping by luck, knots loosening.
Abel disabled them with one swing. Just like now.
Of course, those escapes were possible because...
'I let them loose on purpose.'
Luring prey to run, choking the desperate as they flailed.
That was Abel's game, his pleasure.
"Damn..."
The last gripped his club tight. His fearful eyes darted between his fallen comrades and my dagger.
"What're you waiting for? Move."
I prodded the hesitating one. Then, for show, licked the blood from the blade with my tongue tip.
Perfect madman act to terrify him more.
"-!"
His eyes quivered wildly. I could see calculations racing in his head.
I licked slowly, giving him time.
'Ugh, tastes awful.'
Vampires in this world ate this stuff? Oh right, vampires exist here. Wonder if I'll meet one?
Such idle thoughts.
But my face showed nothing—just languid leisure.
"Uwaaaaaah!!!"
Finally, he lunged, bellowing to hide his fear.
'Hm, isn't the last one always the strongest?'
His form had more openings than the first two. Not a leader by skill.
"Hiyah!"
His club was lighter, thinner. He guarded his legs thoroughly.
'Ah.'
Learned from his buddies' falls, huh. Smartest of the bunch.
Too bad smarts wouldn't save him.
I closed the gap in a flash.
"Eek!"
As expected, a pathetic scream and wild flailing arms.
'Opening.'
My eyes flashed cold.
Slash!
The dagger tore under his armpit.
"Gaaaah!"
He dropped the club, sprawling.
"My arm, my arm!"
His arm dangled limp like a doll's. I kindly told the sobbing mess, gripping his shoulder.
"No strength in it? No quick treatment, and that arm's useless forever."
Terror crept into his eyes. He screamed with all his might.
"Please, let us go!"
I shrugged. No thrill fighting a broken foe.
"Ten seconds. Scram."
"Yes, yes! Thank you!"
He bowed deepest courtesy of his life. Then herded the other two.
"Get up, quick."
"Sob, boss..."
"Now!"
They hauled each other up, fleeing without looking back.
To their retreating backs, I called.
"Didn't cut deep on purpose. It'll heal enough to walk."
Dragging footsteps faded, silence fell.
"Hoo..."
I let my arms drop.
Adrenaline ebbed, exhaustion washed over me.
'Living as Abel ain't easy.'
Soft tongue click, then pocketed the dagger—clean now from my licking.
Then, loud enough to be heard:
"Liam Schmidt. Come on out already?"
To Liam, surely watching nearby.