Chapter 193
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: Death's Clutches
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"Good job."
The First Warrior patted the traitor's head like he was stroking an obedient dog, then asked,
"What's your name again?"
"K-Kang Si-hyeok..."
"All right. You did what we told you, so we'll let you live."
"Th-Thank you! Thank you..."
"But you're staying here until Black Scythe shows up."
"Huh?"
"We've got no way to check if you're telling the truth or not. You need to stick around at least until Black Scythe gets here."
He'd caved to their threats and betrayed his squad leader, but now he had to face the man in person?
Kang Si-hyeok's face drained of color as he stammered on in English.
"Y-You said you'd let me go if I did what you asked."
"That's what we're telling you to do right now."
"Y-You heard it from the side. It's definitely Black Scythe."
"I don't speak Korean. How the hell am I supposed to know what you said or who you called?"
"That's not what we agreed... Aaagh!"
The First Warrior's finger pressed hard into his knee.
It felt like it had been caught in some massive hydraulic press—he couldn't budge an inch.
Insane grip strength.
"You yellow monkey bitch, you do what we say or you shut your long tongue. Want me to make sure you never walk again?"
"Grk... hngh..."
"If you don't wanna die like a dog at our hands, sell out your boss to survive. That's survival instinct, the true monkey way, right?"
"O-Okay, okay, I get it, just let go... Gah!"
Instead of releasing his knee, the First Warrior's massive hand smacked the back of Kang Si-hyeok's head.
"Retard. Tsk."
He slung his oversized greatsword over his shoulder—matching his hulking frame—and turned to his fellow Apostles.
"Contact made?"
"Called both teams, so they'll head this way."
"They need to get here before Black Scythe does..."
The First Warrior let out a smirk at India's top Swingman's concern.
"Why worry? If Black Scythe shows, we smash that fucker's head first."
"They say England's the land of gentlemen, but your word choice is awfully crude."
"Who says? England, land of gentlemen?"
"You sure? Level 90 ain't a joke."
"I'm a Sword Master. One hit from my sword aura kills anything. Even took down a Minotaur in one shot."
"Then how come a guy like you's never cracked the top three across all zones?"
"Ahem, I've just been slacking on clears till now. Watch me from here on out. Who's gonna claim that number one spot."
Swingman just shook his head at the First Warrior's cocky display.
"Don't. When Black Scythe shows, talk and stall for time. Till the rest of the Apostles arrive. We've got a hostage, so that might be better?"
"What're you talking about? Share the pie that's rolled right to us?"
"You sure that pie's safe to eat? Not poisoned?"
"We four could take Black Scythe easy. Hell, we've got a hostage, like you said."
"I said no."
"I said yes."
Kang Si-hyeok flinched when the First Warrior glanced his way mid-argument.
"Ask this guy? Hey, yellow monkey. If I fight Black Scythe, who wins?"
"Huh?"
"Don't huh me. You get English? One-on-one, who wins between us? You're his squadmate, you know his strength."
Of course he did.
Everyone in the squad knew, ever since that first-day duel.
Just how much of a monster their leader was.
But right now, to Kang Si-hyeok's eyes, the giant in front of him was the real monster.
He couldn't bring himself to say it straight.
"Be honest. Honest."
"B-Black Scythe..."
"..."
"...is weaker than you'd think. You could win."
"See? Told ya. He's weaker than he looks. That's what I figured too."
"Why ask this punk? Can't you see he's scared shitless of you?"
"Nah, nah. He was honest. Right?"
"Y-Yeah..."
The First Warrior's hand landed heavy on Kang Si-hyeok's shoulder.
"Black Scythe'll be here soon. We'll prep the ambush, you keep his eyes on you till then."
"Huh? M-Me?"
"What? Don't like it?"
The grip on his shoulder tightened.
Kang Si-hyeok shook his head fast.
"N-No. I'll do it."
"Good, that's more like it. You know what happens if you ask him for help or try to run, right?"
The First Warrior menaced him with his ridiculously huge greatsword.
"You drop dead with Black Scythe on the spot. Run? Against us four? Dream on. You don't know, but we're top-tier players who crushed our national number ones like it was nothing."
"Aah..."
"So behave. Do your job right, and we'll let you go."
"Y-You're really... really gonna let me live?"
"'Course. Letting a fly like you go ain't hard for us. Promise we'll spare you if things go smooth."
"O-Okay then. Got it."
"Good, good. We'll be expecting great things."
The First Warrior gave his shoulder a couple pats, then vanished with his comrades.
They scattered to their positions, waiting for Black Scythe to appear.
Five minutes later.
Footsteps echoed into the quiet alley.
Black Scythe had arrived.
"S-Squad leader..."
"Kang Si-hyeok?"
Black Scythe appeared wearing his usual white mask, as always.
Kang Si-hyeok couldn't tell the bitter smile hidden beneath it.
"So, what's the reason you wanted to meet here?"
"I-I've got... something to discuss."
"What is it?"
"W-Well..."
Anyone could see the tension on his sweat-drenched face—it screamed suspicion.
But Black Scythe just listened quietly.
Was it that which made it suspicious?
"That fucker's onto us."
The First Warrior broke cover first.
"Hey, you Black Scythe? Scythe gives it away, I guess."
Sashaying out with his greatsword, the other Apostles had no choice but to emerge with sighs.
He stopped ten paces away and sneered.
"You speak English?"
"..."
"Whatever, don't matter. You'll get the vibe even if words don't land. That you're fucked."
"..."
"Wanna go painless? Drop the weapon. Drop the weapon. Or I'll make it hurt max. Torture you screaming like a little girl, promise it on my dick."
Blatant taunt, but Black Scythe didn't react.
'This fucker? He'd get it by now? He really not speak English?'
A defeated sigh escaped the First Warrior.
Plan to rile him up and cloud his judgment? Dead in the water.
"Kids. Words ain't cutting it."
Even as the four men advanced with weapons drawn, Ryu Min calmly eyed Kang Si-hyeok.
"Who're these guys? Your friends?"
"W-Well..."
Kang Si-hyeok plunged into the dilemma of his life.
Throw himself at Black Scythe and beg for mercy? Or hide behind the monsters who'd threatened him?
'Would the squad leader forgive me? Nah. That cold bastard won't. Better side with these guys... But what if they can't take him?'
He weighed his odds with either side, but no clear answer came.
"Care to explain the situation?"
"W-Well, squad leader..."
"You didn't lure me into a trap, did you?"
Kang Si-hyeok's head drooped.
"S-Sorry. No excuse. Had to live. Really sorry, squad leader... Hngh."
Tears of remorse streamed down Kang Si-hyeok's face, but Ryu Min's voice stayed flat.
"No need to be sorry. I'm the sorry one."
"Hng... Huh?"
Ryu Min's scythe flashed like lightning.
Kang Si-hyeok's head tilted, then hit the ground.
With it, one Apostle behind him slid apart like butter.
Thud.
"No pain."
The remaining Apostles gaped in horror.
Terror.
That's what they felt.
Ryu Min's Slayer title had inflicted the abnormality on the witnesses.
It wore off after three seconds, though.
"You crazy fuck, killing your own squadmate..."
"I killed a traitor, not a squadmate."
The moment he'd made that luring call, Kang Si-hyeok was a traitor.
Threats or not, traitors didn't get mercy.
Principle upheld: summary execution on the spot.
Along with one Apostle.
"You speak English after all, you fuck?"
"Never said I didn't."
"..."
The First Warrior went speechless in disbelief, but inside, he was steadying his pounding heart.
'Kills without a word, what the fuck...'
Fluent English was one thing, but the sudden move shook him.
The other Apostles' hearts raced too.
'Killing his own man without hesitation for betrayal...'
'Hostage plan's toast.'
The ruthless judgment and cool head unnerved them, but the real fear was elsewhere.
He hadn't seen the attack coming at all.
'I was right behind that monkey—if I'd been there, I'd be done...'
Pushing past his shaken comrades, the First Warrior stepped forward.
Sword aura already coated his massive greatsword, ready to strike.
"Damn, kill a guy just for a little playful threat? Number one's a psycho, huh?"
"Playful threat?"
A scoff leaked from Ryu Min's masked mouth.
"Think I'd let that slide? You Apostles?"
"..."
The Apostles' faces hardened like stone.
He'd sniffed out their secret—no one was supposed to know.
"Ganging up as each country's rankers to check me, joining some joke group called Messiah, and now it's 'just a prank'? Even a stray dog would laugh."
"...How'd you know?"
"Not the point right now."
No sooner said, Ryu Min's scythe whipped out like a lash, then snapped back.
Shwick—thwack!
One Apostle crumpled, gut pierced—hadn't even seen the weapon move.
Thud.
A corpse in a blink, and his comrades jolted.
The First Warrior and Swingman swallowed dry, no chance to react.
'That's number one?'
'Monster. Total monster.'
Seeing speed they couldn't touch, their fight was gone.
Just one thought: escape somehow.
"England's Sword Master, First Warrior. India's fighter, Swingman. Just you two left."
"..."
"What, standing there? Fight or flee—squirm a bit?"
"What the fuck!"
First Warrior bolted first.
Agile for his size, he wall-kicked toward a rooftop escape.
But thoughts don't make reality.
'Death's Clutches.'
Ryu Min aimed the skill at his back—a black hand snaked out like a serpent, coiling his waist.
"Let go! Fucking let go!"
"Come here. Play with me."
No cockiness on the dragged First Warrior's face.
Just a terror-stricken beast headed to slaughter.
Slash!
Death's Clutches yanked him in—his head sheared clean off.
Meanwhile, Swingman had fled far, but Ryu Min was unfazed.
Death's Clutches had no cooldown.