Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: A Gust of Mad Wind
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Sau-yeon, who caught sight of it, said,
"Those eyes... what are those eyes...."
Seon Mujae was equally stunned, his mouth agape.
Two pitch-black eyes that seemed to swallow every color whole.
Dark blotches spreading along his veins.
A satisfied smile curling at his lips.
It was the very picture of a 'malevolent spirit'—no exaggeration.
Un Geuk-byeong, however, just scoffed.
"A freak who's only mastered the strangest, most unnatural sorceries. It changes nothing."
But his words didn't match his actions....
He shifted into cautious mode, drawing a familiar wooden talisman from his bosom and hurling it at Han Ibi.
Thwack!
Han Ibi swatted it away with an irritated flick of his hand.
At that sound, the hovering jiangshi charged at Han Ibi all at once.
The first to reach him was a slender middle-aged jiangshi.
It leaped high, baring its fangs at Han Ibi's nape.
Thud!
A heavy impact echoed.
Han Ibi's fist plunged straight into the jiangshi's mouth.
"Aaaah!"
But the scream came from the wrong person—Sau-yeon.
And for good reason....
Between the chunks of unidentifiable matter pouring out from where Han Ibi's fist had burst through the back of its skull...
Han Ibi yanked his fist free, hoisted the jiangshi's corpse overhead,
and spun it like a rag, smashing it wildly into the oncoming horde.
Sau-yeon covered her eyes.
"Eek! That's horrifying... I can't watch anymore."
Grotesque as it was, the effect was undeniable.
What better weapon against iron-tough jiangshi hide than another jiangshi's flesh?
He swung the middle-aged jiangshi until it was reduced to tatters.
Dozens lay mangled on the ground, twitching feebly.
Han Ibi called out,
"Come on, then. You pitiful souls wandering the nine hells. I'll grant you peace."
Then a young jiangshi sprang up, arms outstretched.
Han Ibi ducked low to evade,
grabbed one arm, flipped its body in a spin, and pushed his Dark Demon Power to its limit.
"Raaargh!"
Unable to contain the surging power, Han Ibi roared involuntarily.
In that instant, the Demon Child Ring blazed bright!
He yanked the arm inward while kicking the jiangshi's chest hard with both feet.
Crunch.
A gruesome sound.
Yes.
Han Ibi had ripped the jiangshi's arm clean off with his bare hands.
The severed right arm dangled from his grip, fingers still twitching from the jiangshi arts.
The jiangshi stared blankly at its missing limb, at a loss.
Han Ibi grinned and bashed its head with the severed arm.
Once, twice, three times....
Even jiangshi-tough skin couldn't withstand; its skull caved in, and it crumpled.
Han Ibi said,
"Sorry. No hard feelings. Just couldn't think of a better way. Hope you went somewhere nice...."
He thought,
'That clears out all but the talisman-marked ones.'
Then—
Ring~.
Han Ibi said,
"Right! No time to slack off. Come on, Un Geuk-byeong or whatever. Let's have at it."
A strange tension hung in the air.
One man marred by pitch-black patches across his body.
The other a walking corpse, reeking of death.
Their standoff was a sight straight out of hell.
Un Geuk-byeong struck first.
"Die!"
He glided low across the floor in a ghostly lightness skill, closing in on Han Ibi.
Suddenly, he angled upward at forty-five degrees, palms clasped, thrusting at Han Ibi like a spear.
This was Finger-End Piercer, a curse art maximizing the jiangshi-fied body.
His elongated form became a living lance....
Despite the ridiculous look, it unleashed tremendous power—the pinnacle of Zhu Yun Eon Ga's gliding sorcery.
As if to impale Han Ibi clean through!
Yet Han Ibi stood unmoving.
Sau-yeon, watching the fight, cried out,
"Watch out!"
Then Un Geuk-byeong's fingertips touched Han Ibi's solar plexus.
Thud!
A heavy impact rang out....
Han Ibi's body slid backward from the fierce thrust.
Clearly, Han Ibi was taking the hit.
But....
The attacker's eyes held panic, while the target's brimmed with leisure....
Proof the script wasn't unfolding as Un Geuk-byeong planned.
He thought inwardly,
'Is there something Finger-End Piercer can't pierce...?'
Still sliding back, Han Ibi grinned.
"Heh. Always wanted to test the limits of Dark Demon Power."
His face suddenly twisted viciously.
"Damn it, though. Pointless. It hurts like hell!"
He planted his right foot back, friction halting his slide.
Then he seized Un Geuk-byeong's outstretched arms and hurled him skyward.
Han Ibi unleashed Fierce Tiger Palm Technique.
Un Geuk-byeong plummeted awkwardly from above.
Like a tiger pouncing on prey, Han Ibi roared and swung his palm at the falling man's head.
"Graaah!"
Un Geuk-byeong desperately raised his arms to guard,
but Han Ibi's palm feinted, striking his solar plexus instead.
Bam!
His fingers hooked like claws, ripping into the flesh.
A tiger snatching its quarry.
Un Geuk-byeong sprawled on the ground.
Dark brown blood oozed stickily from the torn robes.
Han Ibi said,
"Curious if gliding sorcerers even bleed. Looks like blood concentration spikes."
Un Geuk-byeong sprang up in rigid lightness skill.
But....
Han Ibi was already upon him.
Un Geuk-byeong muttered instinctively,
"How is this...."
He never finished.
Han Ibi's single sword poured down.
Demon Phantom Sword Art: A Gust of Mad Wind.
One blade became a thousand, whirling like a tempest.
Sometimes with form, sometimes without.
Impossible to defend—the defender had no clue where to block!
Clang clang clang clang clang!
The keen single sword began scoring the ultra-tough skin.
Un Geuk-byeong lost all will to fight, huddling with arms over his head.
Seon Mujae shouted,
"Don't kill him! We need his backstory!"
Han Ibi yelled back,
"Got it!"
He tossed his single sword aside, grabbed Un Geuk-byeong by the collar, and flung him airborne.
Han Ibi leaped behind him midair.
Gliding effortlessly, he wrenched both arms back, hooked the legs over his knees.
Un Geuk-byeong's spine arched taut like a drawn bowstring.
"Aaaargh!"
Han Ibi roared again, maximizing muscle output with Dark Demon Power.
The Demon Child Ring flashed brighter!
Finally....
Snap, crack!
The bowstring broke.
When Han Ibi landed and set him down, all four limbs dangled limp and useless.
'Crimson Dream Great Law released!'
Han Ibi dispelled it.
The dark aura surging through him ebbed back into his dantian like receding tide.
His energy... was gone.
'Did I overdo it this time...?'
Gasping raggedly, Han Ibi collapsed.
As consciousness faded, he saw Seon Mujae scooping up the long-unconscious Un Geuk-byeong.
And Sau-yeon rushing toward him....
She seemed to be calling his name.
Or maybe not—he was already sinking into oblivion....
Just like in the movies, police stormed the goshiwon.
They took fingerprints, collected hair and fibers, analyzed bloodstains.
Outside, his mother wailed.
Yes.
Wailing in utter despair.
Calling her vanished child's name.
Han Ibi wanted to scream,
'I'm right here!'
But his lips were sealed shut.
Tears welled hot, soaking his eyes.
And....
Flash.
Han Ibi's eyes snapped open.
He scanned his surroundings carefully, hoping against hope.
He prayed to see the edge of yellowed, mildewed wallpaper curled from dampness.
That kicking his legs would bruise against the desk.
That it had all been a fleeting dream.
But....
He lay in a shabby room.
'Please, please....'
And its style... was disappointingly Central Plains.
Miserable, but unmistakable.
"Damn it."
Han Ibi cursed, raising his arms to sit up.
Then—
Jingle.
He flinched, moving his arm again.
Jingle. Jingle.
Only then did he notice the thin thread wound around his wrist.
Trailing to a tiny bell far off.
Putting it together, Han Ibi lifted his arm once more.
Jingle. Jingle.
Chuckling bitterly, he snapped the thread with a flick.
Then—
Creeeak—the old wooden door swung open.
Barely a handspan ajar.
Something like an eye peeked through.
"Ah!"
A sharp gasp.
The door flew wide.
"Oh!"
Han Ibi jolted up from the bed, startled, muttering,
"Who...."
And no wonder—a girl with enormous, doe-like eyes stared right through him, breathtakingly beautiful.
She looked deeply disappointed, her face puffing into a pout.
Han Ibi said,
"Who are you? Where is this...?"
The girl huffed,
"Hmph. Didn't think you were the type to judge people by their clothes."
Han Ibi, baffled, cocked his head.
"What? I've never seen you before...."
He wondered if he'd hit his head and lost his memory.
The girl snorted again, turning away sharply.
A thought flashed through Han Ibi's mind.
His brows shot up.
"Wait... you, you're... the little beggar?"
The girl's face hardened further.
"How old do you think I am? 'Little'?"
Then it hit Han Ibi.
'I figured all beggars were guys. It was dark at night... so the soft voice, slender build, short stature—must be a boy beggar. But... is it all my fault for not realizing?'
Suddenly composing himself, Han Ibi said,
"You're in luck. We had a deal—you'd pay later for fooling me."
The girl—Sau-yeon—shot back with her signature glare.
"You mean you never considered it was your misunderstanding?"
"Ah, whatever. It was chaos—when would I have checked...? Huh?"
Han Ibi's face turned serious.
"But why are you dressed like a girl? Beggar rags suit you perfect. Match made in heaven."
Sau-yeon's lid blew off.
"Argh! I was being nice 'cause you're a patient...!"
Then—
A voice came from behind him.
(To be continued next time.)