Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 1
>Chapter Title: Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits
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Prologue
The Master did not speak of anomalies, feats of strength, disorder, or spirits.
[子不語怪力亂神]
Analects, Shuer Chapter
* * *
-Whoosh!
The heat scorches.
A building engulfed in flames right before my eyes.
Inside and out, it was utter pandemonium.
“Gaaah!”
“Save me!”
People wreathed in fire thrashed wildly amid the blazing inferno.
In my hand, as I watched them, was a sickle slick with something wet.
The tool for trimming herbs was soaked in blood, a gruesome sight.
“Uwaaaah.”
“H-Help me!”
Those who burst from the flame-shrouded building rolled frantically on the ground to extinguish the fire clinging to their bodies.
But the flames that had already consumed them head to toe showed no sign of dying out.
They perished in agony as their flesh charred.
It was a horrific scene, yet I felt not a shred of guilt.
No. I might not even know what guilt is.
[Cough... Promise me...]
[What is it?]
[Never... reveal your true... nature...]
[...Grandfather.]
[Is this how I raised you?]
[......Understood.]
The promise I made with Grandfather before he passed haunts my mind.
But that promise went unbroken.
No, it was a promise I could never keep.
‘Forgive me, Grandfather.’
I can’t stop until I find ‘that bastard’ who tormented you so cruelly.
Even if it leads to the reality you feared.
The more blood I see, the harder it is to control myself.
I wonder what expression I’m making right now?
Even amid this carnage of searing flesh and spurting blood, I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching.
It was unmistakably the emotion of pleasure.
‘True nature...’
Is evil my true self?
At least it feels freer than the self Grandfather tried to mold.
Like being unshackled.
“Hoo.”
It doesn’t matter.
Thanks to the blood-scent refreshing me, I’m drawing closer to clues about ‘that guy.’
Now I just need to finish off the survivors.
Gripping my sickle, I stepped toward the few still alive.
One step, two steps—and their eyes, brimming with terror, fixed on me.
That fear felt good.
It only tickled my killing intent further.
-Step!
As I took another step, someone gripped by panic shouted at me.
“Y-You’re the Sickle Murder Ghost!”
Sickle Murder Ghost...
A moniker born from tracking that bastard’s trail.
Whenever I caught even a whiff of a connection to him, I slaughtered everyone involved—and before I knew it, people started calling me that.
They say it’s from the sickle marks left on the corpses. Somehow, my infamy had spread.
In just a single month.
Unlike remote mountain villages, hitting larger towns had made the difference.
A valuable lesson learned.
‘I’ll burn everything.’
No needless traces on the bodies.
Or maybe...
Should I stop using the sickle altogether?
Eh, whatever. I’ll worry later—kill them first.
-Swish!
I raised the sickle over a survivor crawling on the ground.
“Eek!”
The survivor shrank back, face drained pale.
Paying no mind, I swung the sickle down.
-Thud!
“Guh!”
Something slammed into my gut with immense force, hurling my body backward.
I tumbled across the ground repeatedly, the momentum unrelenting.
It took rolling a good distance before I finally stopped, and some nauseating force in my innards made me vomit violently.
“Blech.”
-Waaaaah!
As I retched, cheers erupted.
From the survivors who’d been cowering in fear moments ago.
My stomach still churned, my body refusing to muster strength, but I strained to lift my head.
‘What the hell?’
Bewildered, I saw someone raising their hand.
The man basked in the crowd’s cheers like some hero.
Then he boldly declared.
“Impressive, Sickle Murder Ghost. To withstand my Three Stars Internal Energy.”
‘Three Stars Internal Energy?’
What the hell is he babbling about?
The only words I understood were ‘Sickle Murder Ghost.’
“Cough... cough...”
I forced down the urge to vomit again.
I didn’t know who this guy was, but one thing was clear: he was dangerous.
Struggling to rise, I found my legs wouldn’t obey.
“Your reign of evil ends here, Sickle Murder Ghost!”
He approached me slowly.
‘Dangerous.’
I gritted my teeth.
If I couldn’t move, my life was at stake...
-Swish!
‘!?’
What?
He’d seemed to walk slowly, yet suddenly he loomed right in front of me.
‘Fast.’
How could anyone move that quickly?
It was absurd.
“Hmm.”
The middle-aged man grunted.
I hadn’t noticed from afar, but a long scar ran above his left eyebrow.
In his right hand was a pitch-black sword, charred-looking, its edge anything but ordinary.
‘I have to escape.’
Every instinct screamed warning.
No matter how I struggled, I couldn’t handle this man.
Then, his face turning icy cold unlike before, he murmured lowly.
“I wondered who was sniffing around in my wake. To think it’s some snot-nosed teenager who still reeks of mother’s milk.”
He felt like a completely different person.
But more than that, other words caught my ear.
‘Sniffing around?’
Which means this guy...
-Thud!
“Gah!”
Before I could finish the thought, he seized my throat.
At seventeen, my build rivaled an average adult male’s.
Yet he lifted me effortlessly.
I glanced at his hand and wrist—no bulging muscles.
How was he hoisting me like a feather?
Puzzled, he scowled.
“You... You haven’t learned any martial arts.”
“Mar...tial arts?”
“You don’t even know what martial arts are? Hah!”
He sounded astonished.
What could martial arts be to elicit that reaction?
“Intriguing. A novice without martial arts survives my palm strike...”
“Cough, what are you...”
-Stab!
“Huh!”
My gut burned.
His black sword blade had pierced clean through my abdomen.
He grinned sinisterly, his voice laced with murder.
“Better to kill you now—no loose ends.”
-Squelch! Stab!
“Guh!”
He yanked the sword from my gut and thrust into my left chest.
As the blade pierced my heart, excruciating pain surged, blood gushing up my throat.
“You could’ve lived quietly. Why strut around and court death?”
“Hak... hak...”
As I gasped, he flung me to the ground like trash.
Turning back, he raised his black sword and shouted.
“The Sickle Murder Ghost’s atrocities end here! Everyone, rest easy!”
Acting the hero again.
The survivors, blind to his true face, roared in joyous cheers.
My pierced chest throbbed in agony, but his hypocrisy fueled my rage even more.
I’d finally found a potential lead on my enemy, only to die pointlessly.
No match from the start.
‘Grandfather...’
My vision blurs bit by bit.
Off to join you without revenge.
He won’t let my broken promise slide easily...
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