Chapter 138
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: That Crazy Bitch Is You?
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#138. That Crazy Bitch Is You?
"Sword Duke? What's wrong?"
Rimon didn't answer his question.
He simply stared intently at the back of the blonde woman draped in a bearskin, locked in combat with Lee Cheongi.
Mistaking someone for an acquaintance because they look similar is something that happens to everyone now and then.
But Rimon was the exception.
He was a Sword Master.
With senses that transcended human limits, he could read and distinguish a person's very bones and muscles. Mistaking someone for an acquaintance was simply impossible for him.
That was why Rimon had unconsciously taken a step forward.
Clunk.
"Tch."
The moment he was halted before he could even take a full step, caught by the restriction of 『Bipedal Walking Prohibited』.
Rimon casually swung his sword.
To the onlookers, it looked like a meaningless motion, merely slicing lightly through empty air.
That was why those watching him with puzzled expressions widened their eyes at what happened after that single swing.
Step, step.
"...!"
He stepped forward with his left foot, then followed with his right.
And slowly repeated the motion.
It was just a simple step.
Something you could see anywhere outside, utterly unremarkable.
But at least inside the Leviathan Hotel right now, it was a sight no one could imitate—a spectacle that left them stunned.
"Impossible! My 『Rule of Law』 is still in effect, so how...?!"
Bellos was the most shocked.
There was a flaw in that even the caster couldn't escape it, but that very flaw made the effect of 『Rule of Law』 absolute.
Yet here was someone ignoring it—a constraint that even bound the Infinite Monarch himself—and moving freely.
It was unbelievable, even with their own eyes.
Ignoring all the suspicious stares and gasps of astonishment, Rimon approached Lee Cheongi and Yujin, still locked in fierce combat.
"Hold it, stop."
Lee Cheongi froze at Rimon's voice.
But only for a moment, of course.
Yujin naturally ignored the unfamiliar voice, and Lee Cheongi had no choice but to move again to block her swinging hammer.
"I said stop, you idiots."
"...!"
"...!"
But the instant Rimon spoke again.
This time, not just Lee Cheongi—Yujin flinched and pulled back as well.
Unlike before, his voice sent chills down her spine the moment she heard it, ringing an alarm in her instincts.
"It's too ridiculous to even ask, but just in case there's a misunderstanding, I'll ask anyway."
Rimon, who had halted their fight with just a thread of killing intent, slowly turned his head.
And in a low voice, he asked Yujin, who was eyeing him with a mix of wariness, curiosity, and interest.
"What are you doing here?"
"Me? In the middle of a fight?"
"Not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
As if she genuinely didn't grasp his intent.
Rimon frowned at Yujin tilting her head.
"You don't know who I am?"
"Who are you?"
"...I see. You don't recognize me in this form."
Yujin looked utterly baffled.
Should he feel relieved by that?
Or lament it?
Rimon couldn't find an answer even within himself, so he just cleared both thoughts from his mind.
Unless Yujin was a genius actress ready to debut in Hollywood right then and there, it was clear she truly had no idea who he was.
So instead of pressing her further, Rimon raised one hand and swept back his hair.
"How about now? Recognize me?"
"Huh?"
She only had a moment to wear a puzzled expression at his cryptic words.
Then Yujin's eyes went wide.
The instant Rimon swept back his hair.
His originally snow-white locks turned pitch black, as if dipped in ink.
And the changes didn't stop there.
The sharpness in his keen eyes softened.
A noble air settled over his cold features.
His vaguely aloof yet transcendent aura shifted to something arrogant and cynical.
When all the changes settled.
The white-haired swordsman radiating an aura like he'd cut down anyone in an instant was gone.
In his place stood only a haughty yet refined black-haired young noble.
Seeing that unmistakably familiar face—one impossible to mistake—Yujin unwittingly opened her mouth in a dazed expression.
"...Partner? What are you doing here?"
"That's what I asked first."
"I came here for work?"
"Work, huh."
It must have struck him as utterly absurd.
Rimon turned his head after hearing her straightforward answer.
He glanced at the lobby, wrecked to the point it was a miracle it hadn't collapsed entirely, and at Youin and the other injured subordinates, before asking quietly.
"You mean rampaging around and killing people indiscriminately?"
"Yeah, that's my mission this time."
"And your last mission was killing people at Black Dragon Construction?"
"How'd you know?"
Yujin's eyes went round.
Just a light surprise and curiosity, like a friend had found out about her secret part-time gig.
No hint of reluctance or hesitation about the fact itself.
Rimon stared at her for a long moment, then let out a short sigh.
"...My life, worthless even compared to a mutt rolling around at home. Just a moment of letting my guard down, and this is what happens."
"Partner, what's wrong? You sick or something?"
"My body's fine; it's my head that's killing me."
"Your head hurts? Why?"
His self-muttering lament must have looked terribly off to her.
Yujin asked with a worried face.
Seeing her like that, Youin and the Mokryong Squad members felt like their souls had left their bodies for a moment.
The madwoman who'd been berserk just moments ago, now acting so chummy with someone—it was too shocking.
'That loathsome...!'
'What a thick-skinned bitch!'
'Don't fall for it, Sword Duke!'
It was so ridiculous.
The Mokryong Squad seethed, unable to even process how bizarre it was that Yujin was chatting amicably with Rimon.
Fortunately, Rimon brushed off her concern with a cold voice.
"Some crazy bitch broke into my in-laws' place and tried to slaughter everyone."
"Crazy! Which psycho did that? Tell me, and I'll beat her for you!"
To Yujin, who bristled as if a burglar had hit her own home, Rimon said quietly.
"You."
"Yeah, I'll beat her up for you!"
"No, the crazy bitch is you."
"...WHAT?"
Too unexpected, perhaps.
Yujin blinked vacantly, the bearskin not enough—she looked like a real bear.
"Remember that fiancée I told you about before?"
"The rich one?"
"Yeah. That fiancée is the Black Dragon Princess of the Seven Dragon Society. So the Black Dragon Clan is my in-laws, and their affiliates are my wife's family businesses."
"...Huh?"
"In short, you just screwed me over. Big time, and bitter too."
Finally grasping the situation.
She rolled her eyes for a bit.
Then Yujin scratched her head and apologized.
"Uh. Sorry? Wasn't on purpose."
The moment they heard that.
The Mokryong Squad bristled with killing intent.
If Youin hadn't raised a hand to stop them, it wouldn't have ended with mere intent.
But Rimon didn't rage at the half-hearted apology.
Just as he'd expected.
He spoke calmly.
"Save the insincere apologies."
"I really feel bad about you, though?"
"Even so, you're not stopping or surrendering now, are you?"
"Yeah, can't do that. It's my mission."
No matter what ties Rimon had to the Black Dragon Clan.
As long as it was an order from 'above'.
She couldn't stop—that's what she said so innocently.
Rimon narrowed his eyes at her.
"Why?"
"Huh? What?"
"Why follow orders from trash like the Liberation Brigade?"
He'd known from the start that Yujin was a high-level player.
Just look at her wielding that massive guitar no normal person could lift, or her endless stamina—it was obvious.
But Rimon had never once suspected her of being a Liberation Brigade ghost, let alone a criminal.
Not because he trusted her goodness.
Because he knew her personality.
"You're the type who doesn't care about anything but music, aren't you?"
A music-obsessed soul who'd bet her life on songs.
She wouldn't sell out her music for money even if she starved, but she'd bus tables at a café if she felt like it—a free spirit.
Charitably, passionate; bluntly, a nutjob who ignored anything unrelated to music.
That was Yujin.
So why had someone like her become a Liberation Brigade ghost?
Less a question, more like staring at a puzzle with the wrong pieces.
With eyes like that, Rimon asked—and Yujin smiled brightly as she answered.
"Yeah, but this one's related."
"Related how?"
"Can't say. Personal reasons."
"...I see."
Rimon nodded slowly.
He still couldn't guess how Yujin had gotten tangled with the Liberation Brigade.
But as her friend, he knew one thing.
No matter what he said, she wouldn't stop—and she'd stake her life to complete that mission.
So Rimon gave up on further talk.
Instead, he just twitched his sword slightly.
"Then come at me."
"Come at you? Me, at my partner? Why?"
"To complete your mission, you'll have to settle things with me once and for all."
As if the thought had never crossed her mind.
Yujin widened her eyes.
"Oh? Is that how it is?"
"Yes."
"That's a problem, though? If I kill my partner, we can't perform together anymore?"
"You won't abandon the mission for that. And I have no intention of letting you run wild any longer, so one of us dies here."
"Hmmmmm."
She groaned, clutching her head for a moment at Rimon's calm declaration, as if there were no other options.
Then Yujin suddenly looked up.
"Ah, how about this?"
As if she'd hit on a brilliant idea.
Smiling cheerfully as always.
"Partner, I'll just blow off your legs."
As long as your hands, arms, and head are fine for playing, legs don't matter, right?
She declared boldly, capping it with a casual wink.
"Then you don't die—good for you—and I complete my mission—good for me. Win-win, right?"
No pretense, no lies, no disguise.
Just pure goodwill from a friend and partner.
Facing that, Rimon showed no reaction.
He'd known Yujin was broken somewhere.
He'd just ignored it because she was his friend and partner, and he'd chalked it up to music madness.
But now, she was an enemy before a friend. A murderer mad not just for music, but for blood and slaughter.
"If you can, go ahead."
And now that he knew.
Rimon knew what he had to do.
"Provided you don't die to my sword first."
This man, who for centuries had cut down any enemy without hesitation—friend or disciple.
The last Sword Master standing amid the deaths of twelve others out of thirteen.
Rimon Asfelder drew his blade against his comrade.
To begin a merciless duel that wouldn't end until one lay dead.