Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Off to Steal Again Today
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Being good at games.
In this day and age, it was an incredibly vague statement.
Just hearing it didn't tell you what kind of game or how exactly they were good at it.
But Luke could explain it in one simple word.
PK.
In other words, he was better than anyone at killing humans in the game.
He could confidently claim that there was nothing he did better.
That made him incredibly accustomed to dealing with users and NPCs alike, but it wasn't just about superior controls that earned him the title of pro in that field.
The opponent's breathing.
The direction of their gaze.
The position of their feet.
The sequence in which they extended their hands.
The tiniest habits.
And all the various patterns that emerged in those processes.
He learned by observing and experiencing all of it.
Like an AI finding answers through the opponent's data.
Luke evolved through battles as well.
And that was far from all.
'Second High Dragon Dance—no exact cooldown, but around 24 seconds. Skill level about 2.'
He even memorized the opponent's abilities and skills completely in his head, then calculated them one by one.
Cooldown times.
Ranges.
Effects, and so on.
'Dance strikes 17 times—on the ninth, the left sword aims low. That's when to go for the parry...'
He simulated it all in his mind to derive the outcomes.
On top of that, his opponent was a dual-wielder who had advanced from a basic class.
Over the past two years of PKing, he had accumulated plenty of data on dual-wielders in his head.
Experience.
Talent.
Quick judgment.
He lacked nothing.
Skills?
Of course they'd help, but he didn't need them right now.
Why?
Because he could chew up a couple of rookies like this without them.
That was the Worst Criminal in History.
That was Luke.
Quickly.
Faster.
Even faster.
Faster still.
Until reaching the limit.
Surpassing the opponent's speed entirely, leaving it behind.
"Urk, what the hell are you...?"
Finally, amid dozens of trajectories, the opponent's weary breaths began filling the space.
'Stamina at least 20% or lower.'
This flow.
Like wind riding the air currents.
Surrender to this flow now.
Whoosh!
And thrust.
Crackle!
Thrust.
Pukeok!
Thrust again, devouring the prey's life swiftly.
"Why isn't my poison working on you?!"
He ignored the idiot's voice from beyond.
Just the wailing of the defeated.
No need to respond.
Focus solely on the fresh prey before him.
'3... 2... 1.'
Luke began counting down in his head.
'Back.'
And right on cue, the prey leaped backward.
No hunter would miss that.
In fact, Luke had been waiting for this moment.
Perfect distance calculation.
At the calculated angle, the daggers flew.
Puk-puk-puk-pook!
The opponent's brow twitched.
Their calm eyes rippled downward.
Probably a poison-related message.
Luke read even the direction of that gaze and the turmoil in their mind perfectly.
So he kicked off the ground and leaped.
To finish it.
To sever the prey's lifeline completely.
'Four times.'
Luke's eyes flashed.
Narrowing strides.
Power loading into the lower body.
Slipping into the blind spot like a slide.
Kang!
Red ripples flared.
Kkaang!
Sparks bloomed brilliantly from clashing metal.
Collapsing.
Like a castle crumbling in an instant.
Kkaang!
The fox-turned-prey collapsed the same way.
And.
Pook!
The moment the fourth blade pierced the brow.
'Ah.'
The fox realized.
'From the very beginning...'
That she had been a dead soul already.
The fox—Kotaro—too late to realize, slowly crumbled to dust in the darkening world.
"......"
An eerie silence.
The lone hunter left behind.
Luke slowly raised his head.
Thump!
Kenny's heart pounded as their eyes met.
A chill piercing to the bone.
Cold sweat trickling down his spine.
His whole body shuddered in deep chills.
He's looking.
Staring.
Thump!
The devil was.
Thump-thump!
Staring at him atop the hill.
Thud-thud!
The iron-masked man approached, strolling through the poison puddle.
Then Kenny thought.
Could he really escape?
Against a monster surpassing Kotaro's speed?
Impossible.
And he was a mage-class, nearly the worst in movement speed.
No way he could fully escape a guy immune to his poison.
"Ahahaha...! Bullshit."
So he laughed.
And the devil responded by tapping his head.
"Damn it."
The worst.
Tsssk.
Tzzzzzt.
Light seeped into the black screen.
The video replayed.
Emerging through the light: two men.
One looked like the host, the other a guest.
Weeeeng.
A resonant hum that wrinkled noses.
But it soon normalized.
Then the thick-browed man with the mic spoke up.
"Ah, so... is it working now?"
"Yes, yes. Sorry about that. The connection cut out suddenly, delaying the broadcast. Apologies—we'll resume the interview!"
That's right.
This broadcast was the long-planned Luke special.
This time, they'd gone live, interviewing related top rankers. The man beside him was one such ranker.
Gale.
A top Agas ranker with an unchallenged position.
"What was the question?"
"Ah, yes. The question was: top ranker or Luke! Simply put, who wins in a fight? It's simple, yet not simple at all!"
"Hmm."
"Especially tricky for a current top ranker like Gale here. If it's hard to answer directly..."
"I can win."
"Pardon?"
"I said I can win."
The studio buzzed momentarily.
The host asked again, suspecting he misheard, but the answer remained the same.
I can win.
He claimed he could beat that worst murderer, Luke.
A bewildering situation.
But it also smelled like a scoop.
"So, what you just said...?!"
The host reacted intensely.
"Yes, I can win."
"Really?!"
"But I can't kill him."
"...Pardon?"
The conversation plunged into a maze.
What did he mean?
Win but not kill?
It made no sense.
But soon enough.
Gale turned to the camera and began explaining.
"There's a common misconception: winning a fight and killing are different."
That's right.
The opponent might concede defeat.
Or just run away mid-fight.
People called that a victory.
But killing?
That was final.
No possibilities left.
"Top rankers all know it. Luke doesn't vanish mid-fight just once or twice. Yes, he runs. If victory looks impossible, he just bails—win or lose, doesn't matter."
"Oh, so you've beaten Luke plenty of times?"
"Of course. Top rankers are monsters' territory from here. Money, talent, luck, fame—plenty have those. And among them, monsters among monsters with multiples. Do you think the apex predators of that food chain all get one-sidedly toyed with by one Luke? Ridiculous. No way."
"Then why..."
Why did everyone avoid Luke?
That was the host's question.
Gale, as if waiting, answered immediately.
"Like I said, because we can't kill him."
"Meaning..."
"Listen closely from now on. I'll explain so you get it in one go."
The host nodded blankly.
Gale's sharp eyes turned serious as he dove in.
"That monster never fights to die. He even calculates his escapes. A murderer utterly indifferent to defeat. What does he gain? The opponent's data. What, data like a machine? No other way to put it. He's like a murder weapon. One that learns and evolves in real-time. That's Luke."
Gulp!
The host swallowed dryly amid the suddenly tense air.
"Even if he loses, he returns stronger next time."
Little by little.
"Lose again, he comes back even stronger."
Something.
"Then next?"
Was coiling around the studio.
"It's over."
Gale mimed slitting his throat.
Then continued gravely.
"Never show Luke anything. The moment you do, he reads it like data and stores it. If that monster targets you..."
Close-up on his lips.
The cameraman's clever shot captured the final line.
"Just give up everything."
Caw, cawk!
Eerie crow cries echoed.
How many days had it been?
He couldn't even remember properly anymore.
All he knew was he lay collapsed on the ground.
And his HP was nearly depleted.
A message popped up before his eyes.
News of a party member's death.
'Ah, right.'
Kotaro gently closed his eyes.
They'd fought another battle here.
And lost.
That was all.
Died.
Died again.
Through endless deaths, one realization remained.
They could never beat him.
At first, he thought it coincidence, but no more.
'Not even defeat.'
Hunted.
Or more accurately, toyed with.
He'd never once damaged him.
Not even that famed poison master's toxins.
Not his own swift, precise skills.
Nothing worked.
And more than that.
The bastard changed every time.
The next day.
The day after.
And the one after that.
Evolving endlessly, like a different person each time.
Thud-thud!
Approaching footsteps.
Now it felt like the reaper coming.
He was that horrifying.
He never wanted to face him again.
'But after today...'
He could escape that iron-masked man.
Kotaro took solace in that and accepted death willingly.
Pook!
HP fully depleted.
At the same time, cheers from soldiers echoed distantly.
Cheers announcing Kaum faction's victory.