Intoxicated Laughter
Thud! In that instant, my legs gave out. Soon, the strength drained from my entire body, and I slumped limply to the floor. A cool, eerie energy was spreading from the spot where the blade had pierced my shoulder. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't respond at all.
Was there poison on the blade? The ominous thought flashed through my mind.
[It's a paralysis drug. Voodoo cult potion.]
Legba stated matter-of-factly. The paralysis drug made with Voodoo cult potion was potent enough to knock out an elephant—because it was literally made to capture elephants. Even as I lay there, the drug's effects spread rapidly through my body, and the assailant approached with leisurely steps.
[Physical paralysis—I can't do anything about it. I can tell you how to make the antidote, but will you listen?]
"F-Fine..."
[Fine? Then why isn't the guy who says he's fine using any spells?]
"Th-That’s... ah."
[I can't understand a word you're saying. Hurry up and use a spell.]
Legba's tone was colder than I'd ever heard. I wanted to complain, but the drug had numbed my tongue, so words wouldn't come out right. As my eyelids grew heavy and refused to obey, an unfamiliar voice came from somewhere.
"...Stay still. Moving will make the drug spread faster."
The assailant said this as he approached me. He was clearly an assassin sent by someone to kill me. No—judging by his words, it seemed more like he was here to kidnap me.
Suddenly, Kang Ji-a's warning flashed in my mind: "The executives might cast spells on you, Leader. Or kill you."
Given that the blade was coated with a Voodoo cult paralysis potion, the assassin was likely sent by one of the executives. Probably from the Chungcheong or Jeolla branches, the ones plotting rebellion.
"No personal grudge. Just following orders."
The assassin fully bound my hands and feet with rope. He hoisted my limp body like food waste, about to stuff me into the sack on his back. I tried to resist, but every movement made the drug spread faster. Soon, I couldn't even twitch a finger.
"I won't kill you. Don't resist—"
"Sh-Shut... up...!"
I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The brief return of sensation gave me an opening. Channeling the Mighty Strength Blessing into my wrists and ankles—
Rip—!
"Gah, kahak...!"
I screamed to cling to consciousness. Tearing the ropes, I thrashed free from the assassin's grip. I shifted the focused strength to my legs and waist to force my trembling body upright. Even with the Mighty Strength Blessing, my legs shook violently. It was useless against Voodoo paralysis potion.
The Voodoo cult's paralysis drug really was the best in the world...! I'm getting high on Voodoo smack! And I actually was intoxicated by it. Double meaning.
[...So that's why you didn't use spells. You madman!]
Legba said. I laughed.
"...If you hadn't resisted, it would've been easier for both of us."
The assassin drew a dagger from his bosom. The blade was sharply honed. His speech suggested he was a mercenary. They all talked like that—hypocritically earnest, as if killing wasn't their preference but a necessary evil. It was ridiculous, but the drug numbed even my mouth, so no laugh came out.
Then, the assassin charged. Thud! I toppled from the momentum. Immediately, he pressed the blade threateningly to my ankle, aiming to sever the tendon. Like that pervert from the Satan cult—what was with all these guys targeting my Achilles?
"Grrr...!"
I barely raised my arm with the Mighty Strength Blessing. Pouring all my body's power into my right arm, I swung a fist at the back of his head.
Crack!
"Ugh!"
A satisfying sound. The assassin tumbled back, grimacing as he rubbed his skull. But only for a moment. He recovered quickly, glaring at me with murderous eyes.
"I told you... not to resist...!"
His voice trembled. He'd lost his composure entirely. His nose bled profusely—must've hit hard.
Whoosh! He sprang up and lunged. The blade aimed straight for my ankle, glinting sharp enough to pierce my Achilles instantly.
[This guy's completely nuts.]
Legba chuckled incredulously. I joined in.
"Heh, heh... "
"You think this is funny, you bastard?!"
The assassin, furious, veins bulging in his whites as he glared. His blade now targeted my throat—not the tendon this time.
The knife slashed viciously toward my neck.
Thud.
But it never reached. The assassin's eyes lost focus, and he collapsed. I'd knocked him out with the Faint spell.
"Whew..."
Max intensity—it'd keep him out for half a day at least.
"Not bad."
I murmured, gazing at the fallen assassin. The reason I hadn't used spells from the start was simple.
[Practical in real combat too. Focusing power in one arm for a strike wasn't bad.]
"Yeah. More useful than I thought."
To test the Mighty Strength Blessing in real combat. Conclusion: it packed real punch. Concentrating for strikes or shifting for balance. With mastery, broader uses.
[But reckless. If he were slightly better, you'd be dead now.]
"Didn't die, so it's fine, right?"
[The 'could've died' is the point. Keep being reckless, and you'll die before your time.]
Legba scolded in an icy tone. I'd tested the blessing fully, planning to use spells if needed. If he'd aimed to kill from the start, I might be dead, as Legba said. But I got results and survived intact—success.
"Anyway, that antidote recipe... the disinfectant or whatever."
[Fine. I'll give you a recipe using stuff at home.]
I mixed the ingredients Legba listed and drank the antidote. Homemade, so no instant effect, but I felt the poison slowly neutralizing.
[About an hour to wear off. Lie down and rest.]
As instructed, I lay on the bed. Priority: purge the drug. Once clear... torture the assassin for the mastermind.
"I see. Then, who ordered the Leader's death?"
"The one... who ordered me... ha..."
The mercenary's eyes flashed as he nearly blurted the name. Something was wrong. He couldn't move limbs or turn his head—neck rigidly fixed with rope-like bonds. Forcing awareness, he glared.
Do Seon-woo stared blankly ahead.
"Oh, you're awake."
Do Seon-woo smiled hollowly, regretfully. Mouth curved, but eyes empty voids. Just lips smiling. Chills ran down the mercenary's spine. Those were eyes of one who'd lost everything, with nothing left to lose.
Mercenaries didn't fear the rich, powerful, or strong. They feared the empty—unpredictable.
Incheon's "Crow" mercenaries had eyes like that.
"Should've dosed the Faint spell harder. Anyway... who's the client?"
Do Seon-woo asked again. The mercenary squeezed his eyes shut. He wouldn't talk, no matter what. That man had saved his wandering soul. No betrayal.
Do Seon-woo shook his head with a deep sigh.
"Client's name. Second time asking. Third time, no answer—"
"You'll torture me."
"Yes. Torture. Easier if you talk now. Serious."
Do Seon-woo's face unchanged, casually voicing brutality.
Crunch! The mercenary bit his tongue for suicide. Torturers usually gagged to prevent it—dead or tongueless before answers ruined their job. But Do Seon-woo just watched. Try it.
Thinking him naive—kid vs. pros—the mercenary succeeded in severing his tongue.
Do Seon-woo smirked.
"Biting tongue doesn't kill—myth. Never tried myself."
"Ah?"
He'd thought so...
"A, aaaak...!"
The mercenary thrashed, screaming. Tongue intact, no blood. Only excruciating pain lingered. Restoration spell? No circle drawn. How?
"Last chance. Name the client, and you're free. Speak."
"..."
"No? Torture then. Easier now. Serious."
Mercenary shut eyes. No biting. Bound tight—no resist, no escape. Talk? Before torture... No. Can't betray. Do Seon-woo's just a student. Torture? Nail-pulling, beating. He'd endured hundreds as merc. Physical pain? Piece of cake.
"Real last. Won't talk?"
"Do your worst. Curious how great the Leader's torture is."
Provoked, Do Seon-woo sighed deeply, eyes down, rubbing face. Dark, heavy Voodoo magic surged from his fingertips.
"No grudge. Would've been easy if you'd talked sooner, ha..."
Hiss...
Mist flowed from Do Seon-woo's spell circle. Mercenary sneered. No torture via spells—minds broke. What "torture" spell? Hallucination? Memory Crush? Either way, joy at not betraying.
"Pfft, ha, haha. Huh? Heh, hehheheh..."
Breathing mist, laughter crept onto his face. Euphoria welled from deep within—unprecedented pleasure forcing smiles.
Do Seon-woo's gaze held strange sorrow.
"Would've been easy..."
"Heh, ha, hahaha, kuhk. Heok, heeeok...!"
Laughter intensified. Breathless from it. Not joy—forced bliss twisting his mouth.
Realization: Intoxication Spell. Addictive as drugs, banned by Second Leader.
Do Seon-woo planned pleasure-torture from the start.
"Heek, kuhk, cough, cough, ha... hahaha, aaaak...!"
"I'll be back."
Do Seon-woo glanced at the laughing, coughing mercenary—laugh, choke, repeat—then left without looking back.
The room filled with spell mist and manic laughter.
(To be continued next episode)