Chapter 433
Chapter 433
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 433
Chapter Title: Opportunity for Revenge (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The ice plains of Niflheim trembled.
Viewed from above, one would have seen the rhythmic dance of ice molecules spreading out like ripples on the surface of water.
Gaold stood at the epicenter of that wave.
He stood there, and nothing else existed.
“Grrrraaaah!”
Gaold gritted his teeth like a demon.
The veins that ran up his neck to his temples pulsed like writhing worms.
The guide knelt on the ice, staring blankly at the spot where the Grim Reapers had vanished.
“Th-this is impossible.”
Just then, unable to withstand the vibrations, the ice plain fractured, thick cracks spreading out in all directions.
One of the fissures, zigzagging across the surface, curved as if with a will of its own and rushed toward the guide.
“Hieeeek!”
Kangnan grabbed the guide by the collar and threw herself aside. A four-meter-wide chasm ripped through the spot where they had just been.
When the cracking stopped, the area was utterly devastated.
This was the mark of Gaold’s presence, etched into Niflheim.
Whoooooosh!
The Grim Reapers that had been bound to the ice plain ascended, spewing forth the Life Stream they had accumulated throughout their existence.
“Huh? Wh-what?”
The guide’s eyes shook with shock.
Witnessing more than ten Black Elixirs soaring into the sky at once was a spectacle he had never before seen in his life.
The sheer pleasure of the sight was so intense it felt as if his heart would stop, his consciousness fading.
Hearing the clatter of the elixirs rolling on the ice, he scrambled toward them, flailing his limbs like a madman.
He didn't even notice the ice slicing his palms as he dazedly swept up the elixirs.
Cupped in his hands, they had a considerable weight.
They were quite heavy, yet it felt as though he were holding the heaviest thing in the world.
‘What if… all of this was mine…?’
The guide’s eyes filled with greed.
But the moment he saw Kangnan’s cold expression, he snapped back to his senses. Words he hadn’t meant to say tumbled out of his mouth.
“N-no, I mean, half of it is mine…”
“Pick them up. All of them.”
After confirming that the guide was hastily gathering the elixirs, Kangnan turned back to Gaold.
‘You absolute fool!’
Pain sensitivity multiplied by one hundred thousand.
An experience an ordinary human couldn’t even imagine. But for Gaold, it was just another day.
In the end, pain was nothing more than a specific signal from the nervous system transmitted to the brain.
That was all it was.
A man fated to live his entire life enduring extreme agony he could neither escape nor refuse.
That was the curse placed upon Gaold.
“Are you okay?”
Gaold, having returned to his usual self, wrinkled his nose like a mischievous boy.
“Hehe, and if I’m not? Going to give me a kiss?”
Kangnan snorted.
If, by some remote chance, such a thing were to happen, how would Gaold take it?
The agony of his sensitive organs? Or the greatest thrill of his life?
“Sorry, but I’m not into old men.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? When we first met, you were too shy to even lift your head.”
That had most certainly never happened.
But Kangnan put on a wistful expression, reminiscing about that time.
‘Did I… really do that?’
Seeing his bold demeanor was a relief, but the more he acted this way, the more a fire raged within Kangnan.
His already sensitive senses had momentarily spiked a hundredfold.
Even an ordinary person would scream and writhe on the ground if the pain of a small cut on their fingertip was amplified a hundred times.
But Gaold was a man whose base amplification was a thousand times.
She didn't need to look inside him to know he couldn't possibly be okay.
“Listen carefully. From now on, when you raise your pain sensitivity…”
“I’m finally starting to see the path. Let’s get going.”
Gaold cut Kangnan off and walked toward the guide.
Facing reality, the guide’s face was completely pale with fear.
At the beginning of the journey, he had thought he could make a fortune.
But after witnessing the power that had annihilated forty Grim Reapers in an instant, he finally understood what he had gotten himself into.
This wasn't a matter of betrayal or backstabbing.
In Niflheim, where nothing existed but wraiths, Gaold was like a god who held his life in his hands.
‘He’ll kill me. I’m sure of it.’
The terms were that he’d receive fifty percent of the harvested elixirs.
As a ratio, it was on the high side, but in practice, it meant he got one Black Elixir for every two they found.
At least, that was how the math had worked until now.
But as the number of elixirs grew, that fifty percent began to feel like an enormous share.
Now that they owed him a huge amount, what reason did they have to keep him alive?
“How many have you gathered?”
The guide flinched and opened his pouch.
“Um, let’s see…”
The original twenty-four, plus the fourteen they had just acquired.
The thought that he had a staggering thirty-eight Black Elixirs in his possession felt like a dream.
“As you can see, thirty-eight.”
The guide hastily added.
“I-I’m not that greedy… So please…”
“Go back.”
“What?”
The guide, who had been about to beg for his life, looked up with a bewildered expression.
“Leave half, and take half with you. From here on, it’s beyond your ability to guide us.”
If forty Grim Reapers could appear at once, there was no guarantee that even more enemies wouldn't emerge as they approached Hel.
It was better for the guide to curb his greed here. There was also the calculation that the fifty percent share would become increasingly burdensome as they acquired more Black Elixirs.
‘Go back? Is he serious?’
He probably was.
These powerful individuals, who could kill him at any moment, had no reason to resort to petty backstabbing.
As his greatest fear was resolved, the guide’s mind began to race.
He could return to the mainland with nineteen Black Elixirs.
He could live for thirty-eight years, doing whatever he wanted.
‘No. Better yet, I could use about ten Black Elixirs to establish a community. Then I could have underlings and live a life of leisure forever.’
But his heart didn't move as easily as his mind.
If he built a community with ten Black Elixirs, he would have nine left.
But the human heart is a strange thing; it felt as if he had lost ten from the nineteen he was supposed to have.
And the number nine felt somehow insufficient to keep for a lifetime.
‘Ah, damn it. If only I had one more, I could let it go. Why nine? Ten is a nice round number. This just feels wrong.’
The feeling of having the world at his fingertips with just one Black Elixir had already vanished before the greater greed that came after achieving it.
‘Right, just one more. Besides, it’s just as dangerous to go back now anyway.’
He had memorized the paths with low Grim Reaper activity, but the data wasn't one hundred percent accurate.
“How can you suddenly break the contract? I can’t back down now. I will guide you to Hel.”
Gaold stared intently into the guide’s eyes.
It was a look of desperation, as if he were clinging to the last chance of his life.
“Hehe, right. A man’s got to go for the big score. Lead the way.”
“You’ve said it, sir.”
The guide quickly stood up and led the way.
Patting the bundle filled with Black Elixirs, he recalled his parents’ words.
Strike while the iron is hot.
***
#4. Bio-Shock
“We’re finished. You may get up.”
Shirone and Plu removed the goggle-like devices and rose from the beds.
They had been quarantined for seven days, undergoing a physical examination once a day. Today had been a brainwave measurement.
“In my opinion, there are no abnormalities. The quarantine is hereby lifted. You may return to your quarters.”
Shirone let out a sigh of relief.
The seven days of being under constant surveillance, where even going to the bathroom was a chore, were finally over.
Leaving the examination room, Shirone and Plu walked side by side toward their quarters.
Shirone, who had been careful with his words until now, finally spoke.
“It’s strange, no matter how you look at it, right? Why are they examining us so relentlessly?”
He had suspected from the start that the "unidentified pathogen" was just an excuse.
He hadn’t voiced it because, with his hands tied, he didn't want to lose any chance of a counterattack.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. The rebel unification we agreed on is also making no progress. Now that the quarantine is lifted, something might change. While you focus on external activities, I’ll do some digging.”
“Is that really necessary? It might be something that has nothing to do with us.”
The primary mission for Shirone’s team was to unify the rebels.
Even if Rysis had a secret, if it was an internal matter of the command, there was no need to stir up trouble.
‘No. There’s definitely something going on.’
While in quarantine, all outside information had been completely cut off, but the subtle changes she noticed while going to and from the examination room left her feeling uneasy.
‘I’ll have to investigate, but in a way that doesn't get me caught.’
As they walked down the corridor, a Nor-in glanced at Plu.
***
Rysis entered the 2nd Command’s secret laboratory.
She wore her usual red cloak, her expression flushed with excitement.
“You’re saying the item requested from Yameng has been sent?”
“Yes. It’s being disassembled now. Please, take a look.”
On the lab table, a thick, fatty piece of meat covered in gray, mucus-coated skin was spread out viscously.
On a table across from it rested what corresponded to the creature’s face.
Upon seeing the long, drooping, snake-like nose and the sharp, saw-like teeth set within a circular oral cavity, Rysis trembled.
‘It’s confirmed. I’ve finally obtained it.’
The Bakyojong, Izeremon.
An A-rank creature from the Purgatory Hunt, it possessed the power of Antithesis, which could restrain all targets other than its own kind.
In other words, it was a law that rejected law, presumed to be a unique mechanism of its home planet.
“I underestimated Yameng. An Izeremon… they acquired it much faster than I expected.”
“I was surprised as well. Even the Command’s elite soldiers were helpless against the Antithesis.”
“They either found a way to hunt it or hired someone exceptionally skilled. Could be both. In any case, let’s begin. Activate the Fuzix Machine.”
Where Rysis turned, a device was installed with a four-meter-tall glass tube at its center, surrounded by giant glass spheres at the vertices of an octagon.
The Fuzix Machine, a creature synthesizer.
It was a device that combined two or more creatures to create a new one with composite traits.
‘I have to enhance the Izeremon, no matter what.’
The Bakyojong Izeremon possessed an outstanding ability on its own, but by combining it with various other traits that could leverage the advantages of Antithesis, it could become an even more perfect weapon.
‘An Antithesis strong enough to suppress an angel’s movements. If it can’t produce that much power, it’s useless in war.’
After dissolving various elixirs in a perfect ratio, they added water and a Black Elixir. A black, elongated liquid flowed through a hose into a container.
It was ‘Plasm,’ used in the Art of Ilhwa.
Plasm, which reacts only to organic matter, dissolves a creature and absorbs its unique genetic information.
When this was mixed with another Plasm and subjected to an electrical stimulus, a new creature with a synthesis of both traits would be born—a mechanism identical to the Art of Ilhwa.
However, since it wasn't limited to using only humans as material, the probability of failure increased with the variety of species.
This was why Rysis coveted Shirone: to use the powerful mind of a Nephilim to control the variables of interspecies combination.
“Commander, the Izeremon’s Plasm is complete.”
Seeing the Plasm sloshing in the container, Rysis’s eyes glinted with ecstasy.
The stench was foul enough to make one want to cover their nose, but to her, it was the sweetest fragrance in the world.
‘I will evolve endlessly.’
It was the water of life that would guide her to godhood.