Those Who Face the Gods (6)

Arriving at the clearing, I plopped down without ceremony and summoned the perverts who were quietly watching me from their channel.

"Hey, you exhibitionist perverts."

"You lot, obviously. Who else?"

I glanced sidelong at the indignant messages from the perverts and heaved a sigh of pure exasperation.

"You saw it earlier, right?"

"What else would I be talking about?"

I nodded along with all the indifference I could muster at the Great Sage, Heaven's Equal's words.

"Let me get straight to the point. Keep it a secret from the Reader."

Fuckers... Every last one of them is a piece of work.

Watching the messages stream in from the bastards flatly refusing and the sons of bitches demanding payment for their silence, the corners of my mouth twitched uncontrollably. But right now, I was in the position of the powerless underdog — while those bastards known as constellations held every advantage.

...I'd barely managed to soothe the Reader's fury with that confession I blurted out on reflex this afternoon. If she found out that on the very same day I'd kissed another woman...

This time, it would truly be a fight to the death between me and the Reader.

Wiping the cold sweat trickling down my forehead where the constellations couldn't see, I opened my mouth with a perfectly composed expression.

"So what do you want?"

...Didn't I bullshit last time that a Rainbow Fruit cost 50,000 coins? And there are now over ten thousand constellations in this channel — were they actually planning to bankrupt me?!

"Cola?"

At the words of the Great Sage and the Flame Dragon, I searched the Story Shop for Mellow Cola.

...Why in the world is this five times more expensive than the Rainbow Fruit?

In the world of Toriko, every ingredient had its own Capture Level. If Mellow Cola's Capture Level was 92, then the Rainbow Fruit's was a mere 12.

So the price difference came down to the Capture Level gap, huh?

After staring the Story Shop down for a while, I turned my head and glanced at the constellations' indirect messages.

"What a pain..."

Scowling at the Secretive Plotter's message — the bastard had tossed the decision right back into my lap — I rose from my seat.

"I do have a lot of coins, sure. But that doesn't mean I can hand a reward to every single constellation in this channel. You all know that, right?"

At the messages from bastards who had evidently deleted their consciences from their brains, I opened my mouth with the most incredulous look I could manage.

"Hey, you bald bastards who went crazy for freebies until the hair fell out — is your head full of poop, or what? There are over ten thousand constellations in this channel right now. If I gave each and every one of those ten thousand something that actually satisfied them? You'd need tens of millions of coins minimum, up to hundreds of millions, you absolute lunatics."

How many of you do you think are actually carrying that many coins?!

I could guarantee it: anyone holding tens of millions to hundreds of millions of coins was either a merchant constellation who'd made a killing selling goods, or had to be at minimum a Myth-grade constellation. That was the only way.

Glancing at the message floating before my eyes, I slowly began to speak.

"I'll hand out three Rainbow Fruits, and one cup each of the legendary cola called Mellow Cola. By roulette, of course."

"It's just a cola I squeezed out of some monster. The taste is genuinely to die for. As for why it's one cup each — no particular reason."

Truthfully, I'd never tried it myself either. But hey, no time like the present for a sip.

If you tell one lie, you have to see it through with unwavering conviction.

"Did I just spend a tenth of my entire fortune? That's a quarter of a million coins all told. If you spin the roulette, don't win, and go whining to the Reader about it — I swear I will hunt that bastard down and pluck every single hair on his body, one by one, with tweezers."

Great-grade, Legend-grade, Myth-grade — I didn't care one bit. I would find them, and I would pluck them bald.

I took out the three Rainbow Fruits I'd purchased from the Story Shop, and then lifted the Mellow Cola.

And then—

Kuuuung!

"?"

A colossal oak barrel, easily over seven meters tall, materialized right in front of me.

"Ah..."

Oh, right. In the anime, the Mellow Cola had gushed up to Toriko and company's shins, hadn't it?

I stared blankly for a moment at the enormous oak barrel full of Mellow Cola, then politely walked over to the spigot attached to its side.

Sploooosh!

I filled a cup brought out from My Room and took a moment to examine the Mellow Cola.

"Wow... the carbonation is killer. And the smell? Killer too."

The fizz rising from the top of the cup, and an aroma that seemed several times more intense than any cola's signature scent — I took a mouthful of Mellow Cola.

Gulp! Gulp!

"Kyaahaa—! This is the stuff—!"

The fierce carbonation burned its way from my mouth down my throat and into my stomach. Sweeter than any cola ever developed on Earth, with bubbles bursting like fireworks — I was thoroughly satisfied.

"Then let's begin the roulette. Congratulations to the winners — and to the constellations who didn't win, better luck next time."

Having said my piece to the constellations, I took out the roulette board stored in My Room.

"The Rainbow Fruit winners are the Demon-like Judge of Fire, the Bald Commander of the Righteous Army, and the Lady of the Hearth and Mercy. And finally — congratulations to all 175 'etcetera' constellations who won the Mellow Cola."

"So you want me to recite all 175 modifiers? That's a real pain in the ass, you know."

I searched through my system message history and dug out the constellations carrying truly embarrassing modifiers.

"Well, if you insist. The 'Virgin Hero Who Died for His Harem,' the '9th-Class Archmage Who Died a Virgin,' and the 'One Who Died Because Furries Were Just Too Good' have all won the Mellow Cola. My sincerest congratulations!"

Little shits getting cocky.

"Anyway, I kept my promise, didn't I? You keep yours. Otherwise I really will go pluck every last hair. No hair? Then I'll take the scales. No scales? Then I'll skin you alive."

At the indirect messages of our darling little constellations, I let out an inward sigh of relief and drew my sword once more.

It was time to get back to training.

Day Two.

From morning until night, I drilled my thrusts. Of course, all while cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Kyrgios, Kim Dokja, Han Sooyoung, and Asuka Ren.

At night I made a brief stop at the Royal Capital Veronica to check that the group was doing well.

"S-Surprise attack! S-, ko— kogh?!"

"Seitsuuya! N-No!"

"What do you mean, no? Then you come along too."

"W-Wait—! Mmph...!!"

At dawn, I ambushed the Japanese natives taking their rest in slumber and abducted three of them as slaves.

Day Three.

I dumped the three slaves I'd hauled back as loot from raiding the Japanese in front of the Royal Capital Veronica. Thanks to that, the group and the small folk inside Veronica gawked at me, shouting about what the hell this was supposed to be — but I simply told the group to go back inside.

And then—

Clang!

I handed three shovels to the Japanese, who were staring at me in utter bewilderment.

"Wh-What's this?"

"Shovels. From this moment on, you slaves are going to build a moat."

"Y-You've got to be joking...!!"

CRACK!

"Gwaaaahk?!"

I'd bought a whip from the General Store, and I swung it squarely across the back of the disobedient slave.

"A slave dares to talk back?! Get to work, you sons of bitches — hurry it up!!"

CRACK!

"Gyaaah! Wh-What grudge do you even hold against us?! Aren't we all Earthlings, the same as you?!"

"Because, you see, I am a Very Fucking racist toward my enemies."

"Th-That's nonsense! Are you saying you're a racist?!"

At the audacity of Slave 1, articulating his rebuttal so very clearly, I picked at my ear with my pinky and opened my mouth.

"Why would I be a racist? You're yokai now. You people no longer qualify for human rights."

"Ah..."

SWISH!

"So what about it?"

Snap. I pulled the whip in my hand taut with a crack and looked down at Slaves 1, 2, and 3. The slaves gazed quietly up at me with trembling eyes and faces frozen in terror.

"Done spouting all your bullshit? Good. Now work."

Without offering a single rebuttal to my impeccable logic, the three slaves began digging the earth around the Royal Capital Veronica, cursing a blue streak in Japanese.

I kept up my thrust drills alongside them, keeping watch so they couldn't slack off. And occasionally—

CRACK!

"Aaagh!"

"Move faster."

— I applied the lash to Slave 2 whenever he tried to goof off.

Fortunately, having secured three big, burly specimens, the digging went briskly. Even so, after nearly half a day of excavation, only a third of the moat was complete.

"Hm. Only half a day in and you're already worn out?"

"Hah... hah... hah..."

There once was a master who worked his slaves mercilessly, without even a drop of water or a scrap of food. That master was me.

"Tch... enough."

Half a day of labor — that's plenty of use out of them.

I gathered up the gasping, exhausted Japanese, activated the Hiraishin no Jutsu, returned them to where they'd come from, and set off in search of my next targets.

"You. Slave."

"Y-Yes...?"

And so I captured more slaves, ordered them to build the moat, and whipped the ones who resisted.

Thanks to that, the moat was completed in a single day. And as a token of praise for our slaves who had built it, I gifted them their 'freedom'.

Having rendered great service to the group in the Royal Capital Veronica and to the small folk of Peace Land, I bid them farewell with a look of deep satisfaction and left to train once more.

Day Four.

Day four was devoted entirely to training, nothing more. A lightning rod strapped to my back, I kept the Samryunhwan aloft in the sky with a lightning enchantment laid upon it.

Thanks to that, my body got roasted by lightning from dawn ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to dusk.

Still, it was a good day — I'd gained a new skill, after all.

Day Five.

In the middle of repeating my thrust drills, I remembered the Unbreakable Faith that Kim Dokja carried, and offered up the S-grade Golden Crown once owned by the Tyrant King as a sacrifice to the S-grade Dragon Sovereign, restoring the Unbreakable Faith's usage count.

Day Six.

When I came to the Royal Capital Veronica after two days away, I heard Shin Yooseung crying out for me in a panic and sprinted straight to her.

"B-Big Bro! The egg's cracked?! Wh-What do I do?"

By the time I reached her, Shin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yooseung was looking up at me, great fat tears welling in those enormous eyes of hers, right on the verge of bawling.

I barely managed to calm the frantic girl, took the egg she was clutching, and examined it closely. And there, in the hairline fracture running across its shell, I spotted a pair of sharp, bright yellow eyes.

Blink. Blink.

They were quietly looking back and forth between me and Shin Yooseung.

"Yooseung, this egg isn't cracked — it's hatching."

"Really?"

"Of course. Look, you can see its eyes right through this crack here."

"Ah... what a relief..."

Shin Yooseung heaved a deep, relieved sigh. Watching her quietly from above, I smiled faintly and opened my mouth.

"Aww, did our little Yooseung get that scared, hmm?"

"...I'm not a little kid, Big Bro."

"You're a little kid to me."

"...Hmph. Just you watch. I'm going to grow up fast from now on — like the future me!"

"Yes, yes. Anyway, shouldn't we name the little guy first?"

"A name... a name..."

Hearing me out, Shin Yooseung bowed her head slightly and murmured softly as she gazed blankly at the fire dragon's egg.

"Hmm... I really don't know. What about you, Big Bro?"

"Me?"

"Yes! You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the one who gave me this egg, after all. I want you to name him!"

With those sparkling, eager eyes gazing up at me, I deliberated for a moment.

"...How about 'Draggy'?"

"......Big Bro, you're joking, right?"

"Well, obviously I'm joking. My naming sense isn't that bad."

It was a little serious, though. At the deeply disappointed glare she sent my way, I went back to thinking in earnest.

"He's a Western dragon, so let's give him a Western name. How about Igneel — or maybe Ifrit?"

"Igneel... Ifrit..."

Shin Yooseung squeezed those big round eyes shut and murmured to herself, then suddenly her eyes flashed open.

"Then from this moment on, his name is Igneel!"

Crick-crack!

"Krwaaaah!"

The instant the name was given, he burst free of the sturdy shell.

Befitting the name of a fire dragon, a hatchling with a deep crimson body, a thick tail, two pairs of wings, bright yellow eyes, and scarlet horns let out a tremendous cry. It was the moment of a dragon's birth — the very apex of the kaiju species.

Perhaps it was simply because he was still young? The two of us quietly observed the pureblood dragon, rated at a mere grade 7.

"Kyuu... kyuu..."

Before long, as Igneel whimpered softly up at the two of us, I realized the little one was hungry and purchased Galala Gator meat from the Story Shop.

I handed the Galala Gator meat over to Shin Yooseung.

"Big Bro?"

"He's a newborn, after all. Our Yooseungie has to take good care of him, got it? Big Bro will cover the food expenses, so don't you worry about a thing."

"Okay! Thank you so much, Big Bro. I like you lots and lots!"

"Haha! Now that's what I like to hear. I like you too, Yooseung. Now then — let's feed Igneel first, shall we?"

"Okay!"

On day six I skipped my training entirely and stayed by Shin Yooseung's side, caring for Igneel after he hatched from the egg. And when the group returned from helping the small folk, they took one look at Igneel and nearly jumped out of their skins before showering Shin Yooseung with congratulations on his birth.

Days Seven, Eight, and Nine.

With the blessing of my teacher Kyrgios and Kim Dokja, I spent those three days mostly helping Shin Yooseung — tending to Igneel, feeding him — and devoted whatever spare time remained to repeating my thrust drills.

Day Ten.

Now that the motion had become second nature, I could thrust quickly and precisely. And when I had completed my 680,000th thrust—

Between grilling my body with lightning and repeating the thrusts over and over, I had finally, finally obtained the skill I wanted.

Overjoyed, I ran straight to my teacher.

"Master! I've finally learned the Electrification skill!"

"You only now manage to learn it?"

"Yes! So what should I do next?"

"What else is there but training, obviously?"

"Aww, come on~ can't we do something else for once? Y-You're from Murim, aren't you, Master?"

"Speak your actual point."

"Couldn't you possibly teach me qi circulation — no, I mean, mana circulation, pretty please?"

At my words, Kyrgios's eyebrows twitched.

"So you're asking me to teach you the circulation breathing method?"

"Y-Yes! That exactly!"

Heart pounding, I stared blankly at Kyrgios. He glared back at me with a scowl, let out a small sigh, and spoke.

"...I shall teach you the circulation breathing method in two days' time. Until then, spend your remaining hours practicing thrusts with Electrification activated."

"Yes sir! Thank ya kindly, Master!"

And then — I trampled my master's instructions ever so lightly underfoot, grabbed Han Sooyoung and Asuka Ren, and headed off to the Royal Capital Veronica for a bit of fun.

When evening rolled around, I brought Han Sooyoung and Asuka Ren back to where Kyrgios was waiting.

And there I stood — Electrification active, face twisted in a grimace — facing down Kyrgios, who was glaring daggers at me. Wooden sword in hand, mind you.

Kyrgios, making no effort whatsoever to conceal the rage boiling up inside him, swung the wooden sword at me and roared.

"You dare deceive this master of yours, boy?!"

"M-Master! Your disciple is dying!!"

"Silence! Today's and tomorrow's training shall be sparring with this master! I shall personally correct that rotten attitude of yours, you thunder-naked brat!!"

"Gwaaaaah!!"

Han Sooyoung, watching Kyrgios legally pummel his disciple under the noble name of "sparring" — and watching me, on the receiving end of that master's fists — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wore an expression of profound pity.

"I always knew that idiot would get the crap beaten out of him like that someday."

"Ahahaha..."

All Asuka Ren could manage in response to Han Sooyoung's blunt remark was an awkward smile.

Day Eleven.

I had sparred with Kyrgios clear through the night. And apparently intent on keeping his word, Kyrgios was glowering at me once again, wooden sword at the ready.

"...Master. Your disciple is truly going to die..."

I trembled under Kyrgios's hands as he beat me like a dog on the cruelest day of summer. Then, through tears, I pleaded my case.

"Master! Thanks to sparring with you, the level of my proficient-tier defense skill has shot up like a madman! If I take another beating like today's, your disciple will genuinely die!!"

"Finished?"

"Yes sir..."

"Then take up a real sword and follow me."

"Yessir..."

Fuck... The earnest pleas of an adorable disciple held absolutely no sway over a cold-blooded master.

"...Dokja. I am genuinely dying."

"...You've been through a lot."

When night fell, I made my way into My Room. Sitting down on the sofa in the living room, I sidled up to Kim Dokja, who was scrolling through her phone, and rested my head against her lap, whining like a child.

Kim Dokja had watched me spar with Kyrgios for well over half a day, so she knew exactly how thoroughly I'd been beaten black and blue. She quietly stroked my hair and told me I'd worked hard.

"It's the old Murim way of training. Still, the results speak for themselves, don't they?"

"...That's true. It's really, truly true... but my whole body is in agony?"

I had learned a great deal from sparring with Kyrgios.

I'd developed a feel for facing an overwhelmingly stronger opponent, and the proficiency of the skills I'd used against him had piled up at a staggering pace.

Electrification had reached level 3 in a mere two days — no further explanation necessary.

It's great that I get stronger in proportion to how much I suffer... but my body and mind are absolutely wrecked.

Thanks to that, I'd been pounded too thoroughly to carry out the Japanese-raiding I'd scheduled for these past two days, which left me thoroughly exhausted.

"By the way, Dokja."

"Hmm?"

Having called her name, I hesitated, lips parting and closing, before finally asking the question that had been gnawing at me for days.

"You know our Master Kyrgios."

"What about him?"

"...Is he, by any chance, a woman?"

No matter how I looked at it, no matter which angle I approached from, the fact that his jaw was a touch rounder than in the ORV webtoon struck me as deeply strange. And his shoulders seemed oddly narrow somehow, and his hips a little broader than they should be.

So, finally unable to hold my curiosity in any longer, I put the question to Kim Dokja. She blinked for a long, long moment, then slowly opened her mouth.

"That's right — she's a woman. You seriously didn't know?"

"...I'd been on the fence about it. So it was actually true?"

Like a man struck by a bolt from the blue, I couldn't get my mouth to close.

"Then was the two-day beating she gave me not because she'd snuck off to play around, but because of spinster hysteria?"

"......Um. Jinwoo?"

"Hm?"

Kim Dokja, her face drained of all color, lowered her head and stared straight into my eyes.

"Wh-Why is your face so pale? Are you okay—"

"Master is in My Room right now..."

"............?"

For a moment, I couldn't process what Kim Dokja had just said. No — my brain outright refused the words.

"Hm. Seems two days of getting beaten has damaged my hearing. What was that you just said, Dokja?"

"...I said Master Kyrgios is in My Room right now. In the kitchen."

"...What the fuck?"

The outcome I'd prayed was a mishearing refused to un-happen. My brain had even gone to the trouble of filtering what Dokja just said once before accepting it. What a colossally pointless exercise that had turned out to be.

"................."

I shot a single sidelong glance toward My Room's kitchen, then carefully lifted my head off Kim Dokja's lap and began tiptoeing, ever so slowly, out of My Room.

Creeeak.

And the moment I opened the door to slip out of My Room—

"Hoho? You insolent disciple. And where might you be going at this late hour?"

Kyrgios was waiting for me at the door.

"...M-Master? You do know how deeply this disciple respects you, right? Heheh?"

I rubbed my palms together until they practically generated heat, bowing my head and waist over and over in quick succession.

"No, I know nothing of the sort. I cannot trust even a little a disciple who had the gall to brand his master a spinster who beats her disciples out of sheer hysteria."

"...................."

Fuck. She heard every word, didn't she?

I slowly began channeling strength into my thighs and calves.

"Master. How could your disciple ever dare slander you so? This is all one great misunderstanding."

"And what, pray tell, is the misunderstanding?"

"That would be..."

Thunk.

A door sprang into existence at my feet, and the instant it swung open, I plummeted toward the ground.

"I'll explain later!"

"You scoundrel! Running away again?!"

"Hahahaha! Master, this is precisely your disciple's escape route! Your disciple shall keep running until your wrath subsides?!"

I generated a fresh door a good distance away from my master, slammed it shut immediately, and tore through the dark forest at full sprint.

...Ducking Kyrgios's attacks had sent my reflexes and fleeing ability soaring. Even Kyrgios couldn't possibly catch me at this speed, not right aw—

"Done running away already? How terribly slow you are."

"......?!"

At the sound of Kyrgios's voice reverberating through the dark woods, I whipped my head around in a panic.

"Born so large, and yet this slow. Why, even a grub would outpace you."

"...Master! Your disciple is truly wronged here!"

"Are those your final words? Fine then. Speak your fill."

By now his presence was pressing against my back, and I broke out in a cold sweat as I forced the words out.

"...Actually, Master — there are others who called you a spinster! Not me at all!"

"...Hoho? Who spouted such nonsense?"

"The Demon-like Judge of Fire, the Prisoner of the Long Orphanage, the Secretive Plotter, the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, the God of Wine and Ecstasy, the Bald Commander of the Righteous Army, the Sovereign of Buried Gold, the War God of the Seas, the Lord of Eight Heads, the Brushstroke of Seoae, the Divine Will of Guam, the One-Eyed Maitreya, the Hwarang Who Never Retreats, the Last Hero of Hwangsanbeol, the Great King Heongmu, the Small Constellation, the Scribe of Heaven, the Demon God of Wrath and Lust, the Lily Blooming in Aquarius, the Goddess of Love and Beauty — plus the Murim-born constellations, and so on and so forth!!"

Shut up! Survival comes first, doesn't it?!

I whipped around on the spot and dropped straight to my knees.

"Master! It is true that your disciple committed a grave offense against you! But those constellations in the heavens corrupted me with their wicked, forked tongues!"

"........................."

Kyrgios's blazing glare burned so fiercely it was visible even through the darkness of the forest. I hastily bowed my head.

And so, for the next several minutes, I ignored the constellations bombarding me with indirect messages full of curses and protests, and waited in dead silence for whatever Kyrgios would deign to say.

"Finished?"

"...Yessir."

"Then follow me. Now."

"Hng..."

Fuck. It didn't work after all.