Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Whetstone
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Eventually, the bastard exploded.
In an instant, a fist shot up toward my left lower jaw.
I stepped back. A solid backstep, one that would let me seize the tempo. A hard-earned lesson from tumbling through contaminated zones.
"You fucking punk, you know who I am?"
"How the hell would I know a blind-eyed shit like you?"
"Fuck!"
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Fists whistled through the air, grazing past my face. The guy was pretty tall, so if one landed, it'd hurt like hell. But it wouldn't land. His wild, bug-like swings were all laid bare to me.
"You fucking bastard!"
Click!
He finally yanked a folding knife from his inner pocket.
"Where should I stick this in you, you piece of shit? Huh? Right in your side? Gonna rip out your guts, you fuck?"
"Oh? Didn't you sign a pledge when you got kicked out of the training facility? Using your abilities on civilians means getting shot on sight, right?"
Super rookies like Song Woo-seop all head to an agency's Awakener training facility after high school. If they get booted for some incident, unlike regular trainees who just get deemed unfit and discharged, they're processed as dishonorable discharges.
To return to civilian life, these dishonorably discharged types have to sign a brutal pledge agreeing never to use their superpowers no matter what happens in society, and that if caught using them on civilians, they'll be executed on the spot.
Flinch!
In that moment, I could see the blood drain from Song Woo-seop's face.
"W-Who... how do you know that? W-Wait, do you know me?"
"Puhahaha!! What a dumbass. Don't worry, I'm not with the agency. And you idiot, if I were an agency agent, would I be living in this shithole?"
Grind.
Realizing he'd been played, veins bulged in his eyes. His grip on the knife was so tight his knuckles turned white.
"Hey... I don't know how you figured out I got kicked out of the training facility, but fuck it, you're not with the agency, right? You're dead meat."
Slash! Swipe!
His attacks zeroed in on my face with vicious precision. Definitely sharper than those pathetic punches.
Snick!
The knife tip finally grazed my left cheek lightly. Just a shallow cut on the skin. Thank goodness. But he got cocky, thinking he had me.
"Heh heh, hey, you fucking punk, looks like you learned some boxing or something. But they didn't teach you how to handle a knife fighter, huh? You're done for today. Fuck the pledge? As long as no one finds out."
Looking closer, the blade in his hand had a strange shimmer. He was maxing out his ability.
Emboldened, he swung the knife even more flashily. Just the sharpness emanating from the edge sheared off a few strands of my hair.
But... still way too dull compared to the blade.
His movements were.
After every fierce combo, there was always an opening on his inhale. He knew it too, so to avoid losing tempo, he'd thrust the knife at my eyes even as he breathed in. But that was a fatal mistake.
Crack!
"Huh?"
I seized his wavering wrist and yanked him forward.
Splat!
"Gahk!"
Grabbing his arm, I kept pulling him in, slamming my forehead into his nose over and over.
His movements at peak oxygen saturation were already fully readable to me. Those sluggish thrusts while gasping for air? Perfect for countering.
Thud! Crack!
Three, four hits. No respite.
Schwing!
"Arghhh! You son of a... b-bitch... I'll k-kill you."
His front teeth and nasal bone shattered, slurring his speech.
"Heh heh... Woo-seop. What a mess you are."
"Y-You... what the fuck are you?! How do you know my name, you bastard?!"
His eyes rolled, orbital fracture maybe, desperately trying to focus on me.
The sharpness enhancement on the blade had already faded. Abilities like that need unbroken fighting spirit even in dire straits, and his mental fortitude was a given.
I walked toward him slowly.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
"F-Fuck, stay back!"
Step.
Step.
"Stay back, you fuck...! Urk!"
Bam!!
A clean hip toss.
Gurgle... Gack!
I snatched the knife from him.
And then
Stab...
Slowly. Ever so slowly, the blade dug into his right shoulder.
"Arghhhh!!"
Screaming wouldn't help. I already had him pinned in neon belly position, knee crushing his gut.
"Urgh! Ugh! B-Bro! I-I'm sorry!"
"Dumbass. Lamer than even Toilet Bitch."
"T-Toilet... B-Bitch? W-What?"
Stab...
"Gahhhhh!!"
Severed the tendon in his left shoulder too.
"Grk... kkh... p-please... why... why me? What did I do?"
His resistance nearly stopped now that he couldn't move his arms. But two spots left.
"Woo-seop. Don't you remember?"
I rolled up both sleeves. My forearms, covered in diagonal scars like a spiderweb of lines, reflected in his eyes.
"...!!"
Stab!
Thrust into the joint between his pelvis and thigh.
The knife felt weirdly sharp.
Stab!
The other leg too.
"Arghhh! Ack! Aghhhhh!! Fuck!! You loser, you fucking loser bastard!!"
"Yeah. Remember now? Heh heh heh."
His burst of rage-fueled curses snapped back to reality, face paling as he begged.
"L-Loser, sorry! My bad. Back then... urk, gurk... you know how it was? H-Ha ha, just young and dumb, teenage hormones... urk, happens, right? Yeah?"
I was sick of hearing it.
"Woo-seop. I'll tell you one way you can survive."
"Wh-What?! What?!"
"My name. You remember my name?"
"What? Of course! Shin... Shin Yu... Shin Yu-seong, right?!"
Crack!
I dislocated his jaw.
"Aughhh! Urrrgh!"
Couldn't talk with his jaw hanging loose.
"Woo-seop. Song Woo-seop. My name is Shin Yu-hyeon."
I pried open his jaw and pulled out his tongue. Dried up from sheer terror, rough and easy to grab.
"Woo-seop. Your knife pranks were bad enough... but this tongue was the worst. Every time you mocked my dead parents, do you know how heartbroken I was?"
"Urrgh, urgh! S-Sorry! Sorrryyy!"
I slowly brought his folding knife to that tongue.
Drip...
"Urrrrghhh! Urrrgh!"
...Hm? Something felt off for a second.
The blade seemed even sharper than when I stabbed his shoulder...
Anyway, work to do.
Slice! Slice! Slice!
"Urrrrghhhhh!!!"
Squelch! Squish.
I sliced the tongue like pork, in deliberate cuts.
Schwick schwick.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!"
Sizzle!
A bloody chunk of meat.
"Urp, gross."
I ripped his shirt and stuffed it in his mouth. Last task pending; can't die yet.
"Woo-seop. Aww... what a pity for our classmate Woo-seop."
He'd lost it, eyes rolled back white, convulsing. Tough bastard didn't go into shock. Guess being an Awakener gives better durability than a normie.
Before sending that text earlier, I'd prepped this.
#800
A whetstone.
"Woo-seop!"
Slap! Smack!
"Wake up!"
A few slaps to the cheeks, and he came to.
"Woo-seop, awake? I got a gift for you. What're classmates for? You always loved knives, so I brought a whetstone."
"Uuuugh? Uurp!"
Forcing a grin through gritted teeth, pretending to be grateful.
"Alright, time to sharpen you up."
I pressed the whetstone to his forehead.
"You loved knives so much, I'll turn you into one. How's that? Grateful, Woo-seop? Heh heh heh."
[You were so good at taking shit, I'll make you the ultimate loser-endurer. How's that? Grateful, loser? Kick kick kick kick!!]
The tone suddenly felt so much like Song Woo-seop it gave me chills and made me want to puke, but whatever.
Right here, right now, I was grinding away one of my hated past grudges with my own hands.
"Ahhh...!! Urrrrghhhhhhhhh!!"
I stared blankly into his eyes, swollen with maxed-out terror...
.
..
...
And began the mechanical "sharpening."
Someday, when my revenge is complete.
I thought it would be nice if this toxic emotion ground away completely, just like Woo-seop right in front of me.