At Least One Must Die!
They were talking like they were trying to scare me, but their eyes were trembling! I knew it because my aunt had scolded me plenty and I'd gotten into enough scraps because of it. These bastards were hesitating to fight me right now.
They must've thought that waving their swords around as a duo would make me piss myself and stay put! But no...! No matter what, I couldn't just hand over the money I'd busted my ass for! This was my time, my life! How dare they, how dare they try to eat the cash I'd slaved for for free! After all the dogshit I'd endured since coming to this Murim world...!
"Kieeeek!!!"
My pent-up injustice exploded out as a scream laced with tears.
"Wh-what?"
Honestly, I was scared shitless. Facing down murderers, I was so fucking terrified I felt like pissing myself. But even more than that, an overwhelming urge to slaughter the bastards in front of me swelled up inside...! If this was Murim, it was okay to kill, right?!
"At least one! I'll definitely kill at least one!"
I threatened them with every ounce of my strength, vowing to take down at least one no matter what. Even I knew fighting two meant I was dead for sure. No matter how bloodthirsty a guy gets, two arms can't fend off four at once.
"Come on! You fucking cunts!"
"Wh-what..."
Bluffing. Pure bravado.
"You dogshit pricks barge in and start this bullshit!"
I had to make damn sure I killed at least one with this intense threat. When outnumbered, you gotta fight dirty. Hit 'em where it hurts—their primal fear!
"I'll kill at least one...!"
I exhaled my ragged breath, feeling my hands shake, but instead of backing off, I took a big step forward. Striding right at them.
"Hold up!"
"This little shit?!"
Do you have the resolve? The resolve to face death? You willing to risk your life here just for a few coins?! You don't, do you! You can't! That's why you're pulling this retarded stunt! If you had the balls, I'd be the one dead! I got that these guys were killers, but killers aren't all blood-drunk berserkers. They'd avoid a straight-up fight for sure. Nobody likes killing easy marks and grabbing loot when it means gambling your own neck!
"Uwaaaaaah!"
I bellowed and charged straight ahead. I was already primed to unleash the Three Disasters Sword Forms. Mindset locked: kill at least one. Channel that resolve into my blade, amp up the momentum.
If I didn't go all-out life-or-death here, I'd just get exploited and die miserably in this Murim world! Better to raise hell right now!
"Hup!"
"Wh-what the!"
Shing!
In that instant, the two spun around and bolted.
"Can't deal with this! Crazy bastard!"
"Fighting a nutjob like that's a losing game!"
Running? Running away? How dare you turn your backs on me?!
"You, you fucking bitches! Kieeeek! How dare you show me your backs?! Hey! Hey! HEEEY! Don't run! Don't you fucking run! Don't run awaaaay!"
They started this shit and now they're showing their backs and fleeing? In this insane situation, I couldn't hold onto reason anymore. How the hell do you hold back?!
"Kyaaaaah! Don't run! I said don't fucking ruuuun!"
"Uh, ugh?! Uwaaaah!"
"Heok!"
I screamed my fucking lungs out as I chased them down. All this irrational bullshit. All the agony this crazy Murim world dumped on me—I wanted to vent it all! On these dogshit pricks, it was fine! I didn't choose this Murim life for fun, so if they tried to kill me, I could kill them right back!
"Hyaak! Hwaaaah!"
"Kieeeek!!!"
"He's a lunatic!"
And so I chased the one who'd veered left out of the two splitting off.
"Huff! Huff!"
Chang-sam fled with everything he had. He'd planned to rough up the greenhorn Murimite, snatch his money and sword, then enslave him like a dog for daily coin tributes.
Chang-sam and O-su-man had exploited fresh-faced rookies dipping their toes into the jianghu like this plenty of times. If things went south, they'd kill 'em too. In this Murim world, ronin dying was everyday shit. Nobody batted an eye at some nameless corpse turning up. The magistrates would just note an unidentified ronin body, torch it, and move on. They didn't give a damn about Murim deaths. No loose ends, just find fresh prey.
Toying with a terrified newbie was child's play. Scared shitless, they couldn't fight worth a damn—even if they'd trained, two-on-one pressure shut 'em down. Plus, without kill experience, their blade edges dulled naturally. Piece of cake to subdue.
Today's haul was supposed to be the same easy score.
"Kuh...!"
But shit went completely sideways.
"Don't run awaaaay! Die by my hand! Uwaaaaaah!"
"Crazy bastard...!"
This guy was totally unhinged! Shaking like a leaf, eyes spinning wild, then bawling and thrashing like a maniac while swinging his sword! His whole vibe was off! Instead of fearing death, he was hungry for their blood—that mad posture!
A third-rate punk exploding with suicidal grit, going for mutual destruction! How the hell?! He's no yokai!
A warrior who's ditched defense for pure mutual kill can overwhelm even a superior foe. Especially at the same third-rate level. Fighting that psycho meant death or crippling for real. Only two paths: win or lose.
No way I'm dying for a few coins...!
Neither Chang-sam nor O-su-man wanted to die. That's why they scraped by in the gutters, clawing for survival. So the two thugs chose flight.
Not some jianghu newbie—just a straight-up psycho from the jump. Better to run. No point tangling with that. Plenty of scared prey out there. Ditch him and hunt those.
Shing!
"Heok?!"
But how far was this guy chasing?! Chang-sam felt death's grip tightening around him. No one to help? He'd picked a remote spot on purpose—no people.
Damn it...!
Did he really have to fight for his life? Not the one-sided bully game, but a real deathmatch? Win, and the payoff was a few coins after mortal wounds. Lose, dead. Shitty deal. No profit in that.
Chang-sam couldn't fathom why he was weighing life and death in this filthy hole. Tears welled up.
"Kha!"
The limit hit. Chang-sam stopped, hunched over, heaving wildly. The maniac was still coming. Dead set on killing him no matter what.
"You think... you think I like slaving away busting my ass in this dogshit place?! You, you, you fucking prick dare take my money...! My money! To earn that, I gotta shovel shit all day, you fucking cunt!"
The rage-mad man ranted incoherently, striding closer. No clue what he was saying. So goddamn insane, Chang-sam felt like he was facing a demon.
"Skip a day, and I starve!"
That sword touching flesh would slice muscle and bone clean.
"Heuk...!"
Imagining it, Chang-sam drowned in deeper terror. He'd become the prey. Himself.
"Sp-spare me, milord! Please spare me! We're just poor wretches! I was a fool to babble about taking a few coins!"
He screamed on instinct.
"Sorry now? Too fucking late!!!"
"Truly sorry, milord! Kuhk!"
A terrified victim versus a bloodlust-crazed demon? The demon wins every time. Experience proved it. Chang-sam prayed desperately for mercy.
But he couldn't drop his sword.
Then it came.
"Then empty your pockets and lick my feet, you dog!"
The demon demanded he empty his pockets and apologize properly.
Wait...?
Chang-sam thought maybe he could live. Money? Kill him and loot the corpse. Quick work. But demanding he pull it out himself and lick feet? Sounded like he really wanted atonement.
"Got it!"
Chang-sam frantically dug into his pockets. Only about 120 mun in coins. They weren't flush to begin with. Would that satisfy?
"Ah."
Chang-sam realized how stupid that was. Terror had clouded his judgment completely. His body sensed death instinctively.
Slash!
The flying blade gashed near his throat. Fatal mistake: averting eyes down while rummaging.
"Y-you... urk."
The demon just glared in fury. Not even sated after slashing—tears streaming down his rage-twisted face. Killing while crying in anger? Even Sapa archfiends would recoil from that madness.
Trying to con a psycho like this was wrong from the start.
"Gurgle."
In his final moments, facedown on the dirt, Chang-sam realized: the demand to empty pockets and apologize was just a ploy for an easy kill.