Chapter 140
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: But I Don't Want To?
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He takes a step forward.
Like rolling a marble beneath his foot.
Smooth and soft.
Yet fast and precise.
Whoooosh!
The massive hammer grazes past his ankle by a hair's breadth.
A blow that would have shattered his bones to pieces if he'd been even a split second slower doesn't stop there—it keeps chasing after him relentlessly.
It swings toward his knee.
Tries to snap his shin.
And slams down heavily on the top of his foot.
As he dodges it, the hammer's long handle sweeps to hook his ankle.
He steps right onto the hammer's handle, lightly bounding up as if swimming upstream against the current like a silverfish, then thrusts his sword diagonally.
Twice into both arms.
Twice into the knees.
Three times into the heart.
Yet Eugene doesn't stop.
Even with seven holes punched through her body, her limbs' joints pierced, and her heart split open.
Rimon yanks the hammer he's mounted, closing the distance, then rams into him shoulder-first.
The moment he leaps lightly onto that shoulder to vault overhead—
The hammer pursues from behind.
Reading Rimon's movements with animalistic instinct, she rotates her body with the pulling force, unleashing a swing packed with enough power to crush a mountain.
The instant it grazes his foot, shattering his leg bone to bits, he flips his body in midair where there's no escape.
And thrusts his sword downward.
The moment the rising hammer clashes with the falling sword—
The sword writhes as if alive, glancing off the hammer and slithering like a snake along the handle to slice off her hand.
Thud!
The hammer drops as her fingers are severed.
She doesn't bother picking it up again.
Instead, gripping the end of the handle with her remaining hand, she pivots on it to launch a kick.
As he blocks the incoming kick just as he's about to land, the residual shock sends his body skidding backward.
'Impressive.'
Rimon plants his sword into the ground.
The moment he forcibly halts his sliding body, he charges at Eugene again, murmuring to himself inwardly.
'If we're talking pure talent, she's a once-in-a-century genius.'
He could tell just from her movements.
How extraordinary her battle sense was, innate enough to toy with even the Seven Dragon Society's elites simply by swinging her hammer on instinct.
'What a waste of talent.'
But what Rimon felt toward such a Eugene wasn't wariness—it was pity.
Not just because a talent that might have glimpsed the sword's edge with even a one-in-a-thousand chance of proper training was being squandered.
As a swordsman himself, he lamented having to kill such a genius.
'That said, no intention of letting her live.'
But Rimon didn't waver.
Right now, Eugene was the enemy.
And he wasn't the type to spare foes out of mere sympathy.
On the contrary, precisely because of her talent, he hardened his resolve to kill her right here.
'The problem is how to kill her.'
Slash!
The moment Eugene swings her hammer—
Rimon slips into her guard like gliding water and severs her neck in one stroke.
Blood spurts like a fountain.
Her head hits the ground.
Yet the remaining body steadfastly swings the hammer.
Rimon, who had anticipated it, leaps back to evade.
And as Eugene's fallen head floats back up to reattach itself naturally, he narrows his eyes.
'As expected, that much won't kill her?'
A black mage who transferred souls.
A sorcerer who revived from a single cell.
A demon god for whom death itself held no meaning.
To Rimon, who had slain all manner of foes over long years, immortals were nothing novel.
But even he couldn't easily end Eugene's life.
For one, no matter how vital the spot he slashed, she didn't die—and the sensation transmitted through his sword tip was utterly bizarre.
'I could force it if I really tried...'
He who had even beheaded demon gods knew several ways to sever immortality by force.
'But my gut feeling's off.'
Stab!
Instead of straining to target her life force, Rimon swings lightly, punching another hole through her body.
He sensed it would be dangerous to go straight for her immortality.
'Not your run-of-the-mill immortal—something more sinister about her.'
That was why he'd drawn on his constellation's power.
Thinking that with eyes that could see constellations, he might uncover the source of this ominous vibe.
But the moment he gazed at her with eyes stained black—
He couldn't help but freeze.
"...What are you?"
Perhaps due to the utterly unexpected sight.
Hearing Rimon's inadvertent mutter, Eugene tilts her head mid-swing.
"Me? Partner's partner."
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
As if genuinely puzzled by the question's intent.
Watching her bemused expression, Rimon grows serious.
Since gaining eyes to see constellations,
He'd seen many players.
Including those like Ryu Gangcheol, all but devoured by their constellations, or Lee Cheongi, who showed scarcely a trace beyond his eyes.
But even for him, a player like Eugene was a first.
"Did you contract with a constellation just to sell it off?"
Transparent eyes, refined features.
And flawless skin to boot.
Not a single trace of any constellation anywhere on her—Rimon felt a sense of the uncanny.
Of course, traces could be hidden in unseen places.
But considering how other players bore marks glaring like branded property, it seemed unlikely.
"...Partner. Even partners have things you shouldn't ask."
Her reaction alone confirmed it.
Her who laughed even with her head lopped off.
Dodging the question with a straight face only highlighted her abnormality clearer.
As Rimon narrows his eyes at her—
Boom!
A deafening explosion rings out.
Debris rains down like a storm.
And a figure drops thudding between the standoff Rimon and Eugene.
Armor torn to shreds, upper body half-charred, lower body frosted over, claw marks raking his back.
A braided-haired man plummeting in rags no better than a beggar.
Seeing Bellos, Eugene blinks.
"Conred, what happened to you?"
The reply comes not from the fallen Bellos, but from above them.
"Figured he'd have plenty of regrets ahead, so I lent a hand to ease them a bit."
"Ended quicker than I thought."
"Too awkward to drag out against him, so I pushed a little."
Rimon smirks at Lee Cheongi descending slowly from the air.
He could guess why Lee Cheongi seemed so uncomfortable against Bellos.
"Groooan... 'Special Imprisonment Act, Enacted.'"
Rumble!
Thanks to bolstered stats, perhaps.
Bellos rises staggering, despite being beaten to a pulp.
And summons walls with his skill, erecting a labyrinth to isolate himself and Eugene from the rest.
But that's all.
Everyone knew—even Bellos himself best—that he could barely stand, let alone fight.
He who prided himself absolute.
Couldn't match Lee Cheongi at full power, wounded as he was.
'Damn it all!'
But that obvious outcome brought no solace to Bellos.
Having been toyed with by Li Chingwei and barely escaped, only to fail to flee and end up like this—he couldn't stomach it.
And pride refusing to accept his failure, he sought the cause externally.
"Mad Comrade, what are you doing?"
"Me? Carrying out my mission, as you see."
"Why aren't you doing it properly?"
"I am properly."
"Don't spout nonsense."
Rebuked out of nowhere mid-fight, Eugene's eyes widen round.
But Bellos's gaze is icy.
Had Eugene properly dealt with Leviathan, he wouldn't have been held back like this.
Not mere scapegoating.
He had solid grounds to conclude she'd slacked off.
"If you really meant to fight properly, why haven't you used your unique skill yet?"
"..."
At those words,
Eugene clamps her mouth shut.
True, her immortality was merely a derivative skill.
She hadn't used her unique skill even against the Ink Dragon Corps, Lee Cheongi, or now Rimon.
"I know your willful nature, but this isn't playtime. Use your unique skill from now on and fight properly."
Bellos wastes no more time scolding.
Issues cold orders.
Cornered, ignorant of Ryu Gangcheol's fate—the best way out was leveraging Eugene's unique skill.
Thus, he stiffens upon hearing her reply.
"But I don't want to?"
"...What did you say?"
"Don't wanna use the unique skill."
As if doubting his ears.
Bellos's face hardens rigidly, eyes filling with killing intent as he glares.
"You mean to betray the organization?"
"Not betrayal. Just won't use the unique skill."
"You expect me to accept such absurd drivel?"
"Yeah."
So simple an affirmation.
To Bellos wearing a flabbergasted look, Eugene says nonchalantly,
"Conred's mission commander, sure, but whether I use my skill's my call."
The Liberation Brigade's specters were inherently independent.
Missions absolute, but as distinct entities, even commanders held limited authority.
"Conred, if you can't fight more, retreat first. I'll handle the rest."
"..."
In that light,
Eugene's words were absurd, but not wrong.
With the target secured, pulling Bellos out first wasn't bad.
In fact, his original plan was to use her as bait and flee.
But now, Bellos couldn't accept it.
The humiliation of successive defeats.
The shame of ignored orders.
And rage as a great being wounded in pride by mere humans.
All crashing through Bellos's head like shattering pain, birthing another "best" option contrary to hers.
"Yes, as you say. I can't force how you fight."
That was why.
As Eugene steps forward ready to fight, he closes right behind her.
"But Mad Comrade—forgot why I hold command this mission?"
That instant.
Eugene reacts reflexively.
Not just from realization.
Before her mind could process, her innate instinct swings the hammer backward.
But too late.
As she turns,
Bellos's hand is already at her chest.
"If you really don't want to use the skill, do as you like."
Stab!
Thus piercing flesh harder than iron, shattering bone to seize her heart in hand.
Bellos finishes with a cold smile.
"Instead, I'll take your constellation."