Chapter 192: Say You Want To Live - 8
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 192: Say You Want To Live - 8
‘Kuk.’
For a moment, Wolfen’s consciousness faded. Blood splattered, his skull rattled. A stinging shock reverberated through his head, and then, as if that wasn't enough, it washed over his entire body.
Wolfen somehow held on through sheer willpower and steadied his stance. The distance he had fought so hard to close had widened, but that was the least of his worries.
The sensation of his entire body going numb, as if he were facing a tiger. Wolfen had felt this before. In the Abyss, of all places.
A strength similar to what one felt when facing an irresistible foe; a power that suggested nothing he did would ever work, as if they were different classes of beings altogether.
A gap in power so vast it rendered the very will to resist meaningless.
He could feel that same gap emanating from the young general before him.
‘Should I... have run!’
But it was too late. Just as with the magician, the moment he was in his opponent's line of sight, fighting back was the only option.
Steeling himself, Wolfen raised his arm to grip his shortsword once more.
Just then, something flashed in his vision. An instant later, his left arm was gone.
Blood sprayed from beneath his cloak as his left forearm flew off at a bizarre angle. Wolfen watched with his own eyes as a part of his body abandoned him.
Bang.
The sound of the gunshot followed. And the pain arrived much, much later.
“Ah, hiss. That's more like it.”
At the end of the bullet's trajectory stood the Gunmaster, pistol aimed. Blue flames flickered from the weapon in her hand.
“Alright, the rules are simple. I ask, you answer. Every time you refuse, you lose a limb. How about it? Simple enough for even a maggot like you to understand, right?”
It wasn't gunpowder. Gunpowder alone could never produce this much force.
The apex of Qi Deflection. Extremely compressed Qi was infused into the bullet, then explosively released in an instant.
Gunpowder is too weak. So, she fires with Qi.
The barrel can't withstand the impact. So, she reinforces it with Qi.
The recoil is immense. She negates it with Qi.
Technique, principle, tool.
Forged from Qi that surpasses all things made by man, the ultimate weapon overcomes even Qi Deflection itself.
She calls it a gun, but it's effectively a spear. A spear of infinite length, fired with a flick of her finger.
However. It wasn't entirely hopeless.
‘...That was a freshly made bullet. Which means the gun is now empty. In that case.’
The last resort to survive. Even if he couldn't kill her, he had to at least wound her to escape safely.
Then.
Wolfen reached out. He used his Qi to grab his own severed forearm and charged, spraying blood as he went. He thrust the gruesome cross-section of exposed bone and muscle toward her.
“Ugh. My stomach's already upset…”
As she grimaced in disgust, Wolfen lowered his stance and lunged with all his might.
He thrust his half-shattered shortsword forward with his good right arm. Simultaneously, he stealthily drew the dagger he kept hidden for strong opponents. Black smoke billowed from his body, and from within the shadows, a pitch-black blade shot forth.
A Shadow Sword, meant to kill an unsuspecting opponent at point-blank range. A second blade hidden in the shortsword's shadow, a technique honed solely for assassination…
…was crushed between the Gunmaster's elbow and knee.
His right arm shattered to pieces between her elbow and knee. It wasn't that his strength failed; his hand was simply no longer capable of gripping anything. The shortsword and dagger slipped from between his mangled fingers.
Pain flooded his senses. In contrast, the Gunmaster seemed unfazed by having just destroyed a man's arm.
“Two limbs down. Just the legs left.”
Muttering to herself, the Gunmaster struck Wolfen’s back with the butt of her pistol. It was only a light tap, yet Wolfen felt a shock that threatened to tear him apart as he slammed into the ground. It was as if the earth itself had risen up to smash him.
A combat boot casually flipped Wolfen onto his back. With both arms mangled, his vision filled with the sight of towering buildings and the Gunmaster's face looking down at him as if he were an insect.
“Feel like answering now?”
The arrogant attitude that only the overwhelmingly powerful could display, one that placed the entire world beneath their gaze.
Wolfen's resistance had ended in vain. Sensing it was all over, he coughed up blood and asked.
“...Cough. Why... why would someone like you... come for a simple back-alley matter...?”
No matter how he thought about it, she was too big a gun to be dispatched over the deaths of a few lowlifes. A powerhouse of her caliber was a national asset; her every move should have been carefully considered.
In response to Wolfen's question, the Gunmaster scratched her head with her gun.
“That's strange. I thought I was the one asking the questions.”
Muttering, "A promise is a promise," the Gunmaster slowly pressed her boot onto Wolfen's knee. She watched the corner of his mouth twist in pain and spoke in a lazy drawl.
“I'll tell you this one time, so make sure you answer my next question properly... Hamelin. You know it, right?”
Of course he knew. Wolfen nodded.
The Military State’s Taboo. The incident where an entire class of secondary school students was wiped out just before graduation.
Wolfen had used it as bait to draw in the Military State and clean up the back alleys.
Just the back alleys. A forgotten place where the world's outcasts gathered, a place no one cared about. He thought... he thought he could rule like a king here.
But the Gunmaster's next words made Wolfen realize he had been gravely mistaken about something.
“Hamelin. That garden of learning built on a gentle hill. That's my alma mater. Well? Starting to come to your senses?”
“...No way. You're... the last graduate of Hamelin...”
“Shut up. My turn to ask. The one who told you about Hamelin was Lankart. That son of a bitch, right?”
Of course. Wolfen nodded.
He was the one who had told him about Hamelin.
The other last graduate of Hamelin, Colonel Lankart.
The young madman who, despite being the last to fall into Tantalus, had seized control of the prisoners through all sorts of methods.
Sometimes with strength, sometimes with knowledge, sometimes with desire. The sorcerer who breathed new life into the grim, stagnant Tantalus eventually led them all in a prison break.
Just before the escape, he had come to Wolfen. He stared at him for a long time, as if pondering his use, before speaking.
-Wolfen. I need capable subordinates. A great many of them. A cowardly, gloomy fellow like you... Hmm. You could just about manage the role of scout for our party!
-Whaaat? You want to go back to the Military State? You'd pass up a chance to become greater, just to crawl back into that tiny rat hole?
-Haaa. I didn't realize you were such a petty man with no romance in your soul. I'm offering you a piece of the power to change the world, and you want to be a back-alley boss? Seriously. Even a horse running on the plains sees new lands every day. But you want to stay cooped up in a rat's nest, staring at the same old scenery. Ugh.
-Ah, don't worry. I won't kill you just because I'm disappointed. Too much trouble. Besides, it's fine by me if someone stirs things up in the State's back alleys.
-Since I'm leaving, shall I tell you one of the State's secrets? If you spread this around, the Military State will go absolutely nuts. How you use it will be up to you.
The red-haired magician spoke, reminiscing. It seemed even a monster like him had memories, as his eyes gazed into the distance...
-Ever heard of Hamelin? Something very interesting happened there...
“And second.”
The Gunmaster's voice pulled Wolfen from his reverie.
“Why did you spread the story to the Black Cat? Was that Lankart's order, or did you do it on your own?”
This time, he didn't understand what she meant. Wolfen looked puzzled.
“The Black... Cat? You mean the Family's territory?”
“Yes.”
“I don't know... what you're talking about.”
“Hah? Trying to play dumb?”
Crrrack. A weight like a boulder pressed down on Wolfen's knee. The Gunmaster's voice drilled into his ear along with the agony of his joint being crushed.
“The Black Cat is a gossip rag. They sometimes uncover military corruption, so of course the Intelligence Division keeps an eye on it. But to write that name so openly... What the hell? That's basically just calling me out by name, isn't it?”
“That... name...?”
As if to say, 'Stop playing innocent,' the Gunmaster scowled and pressed him.
“Huey, the top student of the secondary school. I don't know what possessed Lankart to tell you that much. But if he gave you my name... you were played from the very beginning. It's the same as him asking me to kill you.”
He agreed with the part about being played, but aside from that, what the Gunmaster was saying was news to him. Wolfen answered, his confusion evident.
“I've never heard that name before.”
“What?”
“All I know is that their deaths were suicides, and that they cursed the Military State before they died. And that Lankart... he took second place. That's it. He said the rest... was up to me... so I just made up the details.”
“That bastard was third! Other than that, it's more or less true, though.”
Wolfen's words weren't a lie; they held the ring of truth.
Hearing something unexpected, the Gunmaster fell into thought. She scratched her head vigorously with her gun, rummaged through her pockets as if looking for something, then let out a deep sigh and clicked her tongue.
“Then again, that's not Lankart's style. And there's no reason for you guys to do it. So what gives? Then who the hell was it?”
The Gunmaster sank deep into thought, paying no attention to the man at her feet, as if Wolfen were nothing more than a pebble on the road.
But Wolfen, treated like a pebble, felt not anger, but helplessness.
‘...How powerless.’
This was what Wolfen had realized in the Abyss.
In a world where one's class was set, all resistance was futile.
Talent, Arcane, time. There are walls that determine a person's strength, and those walls can never be overcome. No matter how much you struggle, you can never reach them. Those who stand on that insurmountable peak never even glance down.
Perhaps some can do it. They might cross that wall and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the absolute.
But those blessed few are chosen from the start.
The rest merely crash against the wall and disappear.
For him, who had once reigned as a shadow in the days of the kingdom, the reality of Tantalus was too much to bear. Like a believer who realizes their god is absent, Wolfen despaired and fell into depression.
For Wolfen, the Abyss was, as its name suggested, a hell he was endlessly sinking into.
Then one day, when the chance to escape the Abyss arose, Wolfen gave up on aiming higher and chose instead to rule over the weak.
But in the end, he caught the eye of someone stronger and ended up on the verge of death.
‘I got it all wrong while fighting the magician. I should never, ever have faced him head-on.’
The magician was weak, but he used all sorts of tools to trick and deceive him. They had only crossed blades twice. If he had realized his skill from the start and attacked with all his might...
No, if he hadn't abandoned his own tactics while fighting him. The outcome might have been similar, but it would have at least been better than this...
Something nagged at his chest. No matter how hard he tried to recall what it was, Wolfen could only grasp at shadows, as if thrown into darkness...
And in his vision, on the rooftop of a building that tapered toward the sky,
I appeared.
I stood on the rooftop ledge, holding my wand and wearing my hat. I was invisible to the preoccupied Gunmaster. From a spot only the fallen man could see, I tipped my hat slightly, extended my wand, and offered a greeting.
Wolfen let out a small gasp.
“Ah.”
Though our skills were lacking, one of us won, and one of us lost.
I successfully escaped, but Wolfen lay defeated beneath a combat boot.
If you wanted to live, you should have lived a little more quietly. After all the trouble you caused.
Well, I won't brag. I had mind-reading, so it's not a fair comparison.
Still, one thing's for sure.
You're the one lying on the ground, but you were stronger than me.