Chapter 290: The Day of Execution.
Chapter 290: The Day of Execution.
The sky above the Martial Alliance Headquarters is exceptionally clear today.
Looking down from above, there are no clouds to obstruct the view, nor any black soil to block information. The moonlight illuminates everything, making every detail stand out.
This also means it is a poor day to execute a covert infiltration plan.
However, for the four Mutants gathered there, the weather is a secondary factor—good if it’s dark, but merely a minor detail if it’s bright. To use a common real-world comparison, it’s like rolling a twenty-sided die and having a +1 modifier. Some might call that a significant bonus, but to them, it isn't particularly important.
As if to prove this, even as they traverse the narrow path between the cliffs, no one notices they have passed.
Though it is late at night, past midnight, and the crowds are thin, the area is not entirely deserted. Despite the frequent bottlenecks on the path, no one realizes that a group—consisting of three beings who look nothing like humans and one who does—is sprinting down the road.
Even though one of them is emitting light from his entire body.
Even though one of them is whipping a long tail like a lash.
Even though one of them is clearly twice the size of a human.
Not a single soul notices.
This is likely due to the fact that each of the four participants from The Society has their own specialty.
Seini disguises his location as empty space by distorting the surrounding area.
Elder Li minimizes the time he exists in any one spot through short-range teleportation.
Liger, despite his massive bulk, melts into the darkness by using specialized footwork and making thorough use of the environment.
And finally, Yumil, who simply blends into the shadows, leaping across buildings without being detected.
The four Mutants, each possessing traits suited for infiltration, used their respective powers to reach the outer wall of the Alliance Headquarters' central building undetected.
Granted, along the way, a few sensitive individuals sensed their presence for a fleeting moment. However, even they couldn't fathom that beings of such immense power would be at the Martial Alliance Headquarters. Thus, the Mutants faced no interference.
One could say the place was steeped in peace.
Yet, even on a battlefield, there are often those who ruin guard duty by dismissing things as their imagination. One cannot criticize people for failing to notice four elite Mutants running through their city in the middle of their ordinary lives.
Even those in charge of the headquarters' security failed to realize the catastrophe of four Mutants scaling their walls.
And so, the four reached a corner of the headquarters.
"Marking the escape point?"
"Completed."
Elder Li spoke as he drew a small mark with his tail. The symbol, a stylized rat inside a circle, looked cute at a glance, but anyone who knew the ingredients used for the pigment would feel a profound sense of revulsion.
The blood and entrails of a rat that had gained Spatial Teleportation abilities through mutation, mixed with bodily fluids drawn from the four present. It was a technique that bordered on sorcery rather than magic due to its extreme instability.
Having drawn the mark, Elder Li handed out small talismans to each of them.
"I'm saying this out of caution, but let me summarize again. It can be used once. Hold it in your hand and pray, and you will return to this spot. It will trigger automatically if you are in mortal danger. However, do not assume it will prevent instant death. The teleportation takes about 1 to 1.5 seconds to activate. If you are attacked during that interval, your life cannot be guaranteed."
The others had heard this several times already, but since it was directly linked to their survival, they didn't complain and quietly processed the information.
"Does everyone understand?"
When Elder Li asked for confirmation, everyone nodded in agreement. Seini stepped forward.
"As I said when we started, the target this time is the contaminated martial arts manuals. The goal is four books per person, but..."
Seini paused, his body flickering momentarily.
"As The Hammer said, priority goes to your lives. It doesn't matter if you personally fail. As long as we recover even one book, the minimum requirement is met."
"Understood."
"Confirmed."
"Four books per person. But lives come first. Confirmed."
Each of them spoke their confirmation aloud.
"You've all memorized the building floor plans and your target locations, right?"
When no one replied to the final check, it served as their answer.
"Then... let's begin."
The four scattered toward their respective objectives.
....
....
....
...Now then.
Where should I watch?
By the way, martial artists, huh?
In will love this.
* * *
Liger.
An A-Rank tiger Mutant of The Society.
As a Martial Artist who has reached a high level of mastery, he is excited about this mission. This is a task given by Chairman Lee Ha-ram, whom he respects immensely. Furthermore, the location is filled with martial artists—people who wield power similar to his own.
With these thoughts, Liger unleashed the wild nature he usually kept hidden.
An upper A-Rank Mutant Martial Artist. To put it simply, he is a true warrior. Not a 'Martial Artist' by the Hero Bureau’s classification, but one who hones the martial arts found in old legends.
That was why he despised being used as a tool to slaughter humans.
He didn't want battles where a strong person massacres the weak, but rather a contest of heights where the strong face the strong, showcasing the honor and techniques they have carved into themselves.
Battles that defiled his life and skills.
He didn't crave conflict or blood for their own sake. He simply wanted to display what he had built and build it even higher.
However, the Hand of The End had not allowed him to do so. Just as he was about to lose himself, they appeared.
A group of Mutants led by a Young Girl carrying a hammer.
The girl with The Hammer had thoroughly beaten Liger down, and Liger, having shown everything he had, was grateful for death. He was glad he could end his life—one stained with the blood of the weak—in a battle against the strong, just as he had always wished.
Though it wasn't the death he had always envisioned—dying in a fight where the outcome was uncertain—he was grateful to die as a Martial Artist rather than a slaughterer.
That was why, in his final moment, he broke free from his Mental Domination and showed respect.
‘It was... magnificent martial arts.’
Even knowing death was imminent, even as his lifeblood spilled out, that was the life he had built.
But Liger could never forget what happened next. The person holding The Hammer, which was caked with Liger’s blood and flesh, stared at him and said:
‘Hey, he’s back to his senses?’
With those words, his life changed. It was the moment he reclaimed his life as a Martial Artist, not a beast.
Liger considered himself a dull man, so he couldn't serve The Society in administrative ways like the other executives. However, he had no complaints about fighting on the front lines and carrying out missions.
He no longer had to kill the weak.
With that past behind him, Liger used all his skills to sprint through the Alliance Headquarters. His target was the Old Archives.
These were books written by martial artists who lived and died in the era before the Management Bureau was established. Because they were written without rules or support, these martial arts manuals were steeped in their blood, flesh, and black emotions.
As a result, a large number of Demonic Manuals were created.
Alchemy that used the human body. Training methods that drastically shortened one's lifespan to generate massive amounts of Qi. Methods to swallow Otherworldly Power and make it one's own.
The sinister nature of the content was actually the mild part. At least the books didn't control people.
However, there were cases like the recent incident involving the non-Awakened individual who possessed the Theory of True Taste.
How to cook an Awakened person to gain their power without loss. The content was essentially fiction. Research had proven such a thing was nearly impossible, and even if one followed the instructions, the actual increase in power was negligible.
However, because the content itself was contaminated by Otherworldly Power, the owner of the book came to believe it was the truth. By carrying out the procedures in reality, they gradually grew stronger.
They didn't even realize that their strength didn't come from eating people, but from the book itself granting them power.
Liger was heading toward the place where such ominous books were kept. It was a derelict place, left alone because any mediocre Martial Artist would be possessed by the books.
Liger ran toward that place. Fast, and faster still.
Mechanical security devices like surveillance cameras couldn't even capture Liger’s movements.
"In... tru..."
He struck the pressure points of guards who were too skilled to be bypassed without being noticed, putting them into a temporary standing sleep.
Liger broke through all security and reached the front of the Old Archives.
The place did not live up to its notorious reputation. It was located in a secluded corner, and the building was incredibly shabby. Furthermore, the only security was a few padlocks wrapped in chains.
It didn't look like a place where dangerous items would be kept, but that was because very few people even knew this place existed.
And while physical security was minimal, magical and mechanical security—things martial artists weren't well-versed in—were applied on a massive scale. Opening the door would immediately summon the response teams.
But for Liger, that wasn't a big problem. He only needed to grab a few books and leave; the whole affair would take only a few seconds.
Liger had already committed all these details to memory. He prepared to snap his fingers, tipped with sharp claws, to destroy the locks and the magic placed upon them, but then—
‘Lust for blood!’
Sensing something, he immediately stepped back to dodge an attack. It was a Footwork Technique where his upper body remained still while his feet moved rapidly.
This allowed Liger to see his attacker without his vision shaking.
"Ho, you're no mere beast."
Liger couldn't understand the person who appeared before him.
An Old Man carrying a wooden spear in his right hand and a metal liquor bottle in his left. His beard was a mess, making it hard to tell when it was last groomed. His hair was a disheveled mane, and it was impossible to tell if it was white from age or from dust and dead skin.
Furthermore, the power felt from within him was practically non-existent. He was barely above the level of an ordinary person.
Why did such a being stand before him?
Liger harbored that question, but he spoke according to his own convictions.
"Old Man. If you step aside, I will let you go unharmed."
In Liger’s eyes, he was a weakling. Just a powerless Old Man whose hands trembled from the alcohol.
Amidst his haggard appearance, the staggering Old Man kept his gaze steady as he looked at Liger and spoke.
"Well now, it's surprising enough that a beast knows footwork, but you've even got manners. I guess you're no ordinary Mutant?"
He chuckled.
His breath reeked of alcohol. As a being with the traits of a beast, Liger caught the scent sensitively, but he didn't even scowl as he continued.
"Yes, I have a purpose here."
He could still be polite. That was the thought in Liger’s head. If things dragged on, he would have no choice, but for now, he had no intention of using violence against the weak.
"Tell me, Mr. Tiger. Do you know what's inside here?"
"Yes, I know."
"Hmph. And what do you plan to do with them?"
"To make the world a better place."
Liger didn't realize that even uttering such a sentence was a mistake. However, since he was fundamentally more of a Martial Artist than anything else, he spoke without realizing his error.
"Ha, virtue through evil, is it? I knew a damn self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon fellow who started a mess believing those words."
The Old Man seemed surprised by Liger’s words, his eyes widening as a complicated expression crossed his face. Then, he didn't react further.
The Old Man simply leaned on his wooden staff, unable to even steady himself, exhaling labored breaths. Time passed like that.
‘It can't be helped.’
Liger made a decision. He would knock the Old Man out with as little damage as possible.
And so.
Tap.
To prevent the Old Man from reacting, Liger drastically reduced the sound of his footsteps. He lunged forward and reached out his hand.
"Eh?"
The Old Man's gaze moved as if reacting to the movement, but Liger’s hand was already inches from the Old Man's neck. A single flick of a finger would strike a pressure point and knock him unconscious.
Soon, it would all be over. The Old Man would be unconscious, and Liger, with a bitter face for having done something bad, would open the warehouse door and finish his task.
That was the determined future.
With the power the Old Man possessed, he could not escape this situation.
However.
Distortions have a way of happening.
Thud.
Because the Old Man slightly shifted his balance.
"Whoopsie."
The Old Man's body slumped downward. The wooden staff, which had been bent under the Old Man's weight, snapped back to its original shape as the weight vanished.
Whack!
The sound of someone being struck by a wooden club echoed through the quiet night. The tiger had been hit in the face by a wooden stick.
‘What just happened?’
Only questions filled his mind. No, he knew exactly what had happened. His senses had captured everything even in that situation. He simply couldn't accept it as reality.
Due to the immense difference in power, even if there was no actual damage, from Liger’s perspective, he had been attacked by a weakling.
Liger’s train of thought momentarily cut off. It wasn't for long. Liger was also a veteran warrior. No matter how incomprehensible the situation, he knew from a long life of fighting that it shouldn't be allowed to persist.
He tried to react immediately and create distance, but it was already too late.
"Here, have another one."
Thud.
The staff slammed into the tiger's solar plexus. The Old Man, who had slid to the ground, had struck Liger’s head and then immediately grabbed the falling staff to deliver a second blow.
Again, there was no damage. The power gap between the two was simply too vast.
But what about his spirit?
What was the state of Liger’s mind after receiving two unexpected attacks from someone he thought was overwhelmingly weaker?
With a confused mind, Liger widened the distance and then spoke quietly.
"I apologize for my rudeness until now."
He bowed his head in a formal, respectful greeting.
The mission had long since become a secondary priority in his mind. This was likely because he was a Martial Artist who pursued honor.
"Might I ask your name?"
Thus, showing respect to his opponent, he took the form of a Martial Artist. It was a hidden declaration that he would no longer view the Old Man as a weakling.
Perhaps because Liger’s aura had changed, the Old Man also tossed his liquor bottle into a corner and straightened his back.
"What do you want with a name? I'm just an Old Man whose only boast is having lived a long time. If you must call me something, Old Man Liu is enough."
The voice coming from the Old Man's mouth was still raspy with phlegm, but the atmosphere surrounding him was completely different from before.
"I see. Old Man Liu. Then..."
In response, Liger took his stance.
As Liger raised his head, he lunged, and the Old Man took a counter-stance.
A new battle began.