The Monster Gladiator (1)

A giant with a single eye embedded dead-center in his forehead came striding toward us, hauling a greatsword every bit as massive as himself.

Each step he took sent tremors shuddering through the ground—enough to make it hard just to stay upright.

Flap—

'Between the towering walls, a single fierce eye gleamed like a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blade.'

"Uwooo!!"

"Cyclops! Wipe them all out again this time!!"

The roars rising from the stands had long since tipped over into outright madness. Expectation built on the premise of someone's death. A twisted frenzy, waiting for blood to spray and bones to snap, brimmed in every pair of eyes.

'Haah….'

A sigh escaped me at the prospect of squaring off against that colossal monster. The terror that had crashed over my body had already peaked and passed. The pressure had crushed my chest and stiffened every muscle until, at some point, sensation simply went numb. And what rushed in to fill the space where fear had been was emptiness.

'They staple Greek and Roman mythology onto the ancient Roman Empire… and summon a Cyclops?'

To be fair, with ancient Rome as the common ground, it wasn't a complete stretch. But because this team match crammed three duels into a single bout, the enemy had turned out to be something almost transcendent.

'The setup is outright malicious, honestly.'

"Docent. Tell me about the Cyclops."

Gritting my teeth, I summoned my perk, Docent, in a low voice. At once, an information window on the Cyclops unfolded before me.

Flap—

"Wait. You said 'monster'—that wasn't a metaphor?!"

The moment Go Gyumin screamed, unable to hide his nerves, the spectators cackled and teased him all over again. This time, Gyumin didn't even have the presence of mind to glare back at them. Who could tear their eyes away from a giant with a single eye set in its forehead?

'His agility is lacking.'

Because the Cyclops's body was so enormous, his gait was on the slow side. But when he swung his arm as he walked, the wind itself whistled off his blade—

'One hit from that sword, and it's over.'

"?! Jisan, that… that's a real person, isn't it?"

Jang Siwoon raised a finger and pointed far off, past the Cyclops. She is a strong woman—not just in raw combat ability, but in judgment too; she rarely wavers.

'Siwoon. Your finger is shaking badly.'

That someone like her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was this rattled meant the thing we had to face was exactly that far from normal.

"Ngh, ugh…."

Behind the Cyclops, a small man rose on a lift platform. He convulsed, his vacant stare drifting in empty air. His body and hair were matted stiff with blood.

The Curator straightened the laurel wreath floating in the air and calmly took over as commentator.

"Th-there!! You're Visitors, aren't you?!"

The man belatedly noticed the three of us and stretched out his hand. His clouded pupils dilated wide; he looked for all the world like a fish. Eyes utterly without focus, he pleaded with us, desperate and raw.

"Save me! Put me in your team match! One more round and I can win—"

A mind already shattered. Clutching at us while pretending to hold on to hope until the very end—but he knew the truth too, didn't he? That he would not walk out of this alive.

"Boooo!! Rome's shame! Die already!"

The spectators drove their thumbs down as one, showering the man in jeers. And that jeer became the signal—the Cyclops began slowly closing in on him.

Thud—

Thud—

Thud—

"Save me!!"

"…!"

Jang Siwoon's foot reacted on pure reflex, lunging forward before her mind had made any judgment at all. A person was wailing for his life right in front of her eyes. And yet—

"Siwoon. Don't."

I seized her wrist without a moment's hesitation. Firmly, with every ounce of strength I could muster.

"Jisan?!"

Caught in my grip, Siwoon froze and twisted only her head back toward me. Panic was written plainly across her face, and I absolutely did not let go.

"We ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cannot save that man."

We had to act on reason, not emotion. Reaching out a hand in a situation where he could not be saved wasn't kindness—it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠futile goodwill. No, it wasn't even goodwill. It was self-destruction.

"Uuooh—"

Every time the Cyclops slammed a foot into the ground, sand erupted upward like an explosion. The man, his wits already gone, couldn't even run properly—he only flailed his limbs. At last he dropped to his knees and crawled, scraping out one final struggle—

"No! Noooo!!"

The Cyclops reached down with the hand that held no sword and snatched the man up. Caught fast in its grip, the man shrieked in agony under the crushing pressure.

"Aaargh!!"

Then one last, short cry tore through my ears. Go Gyumin, Jang Siwoon, and I—none of us could bear to witness the carnage, and we squeezed our eyes shut.

Snap—

At last, whether the man had vanished into the Cyclops's maw or not, the wailing scream simply ceased. Only then did I manage to crack my eyes halfway open. All that remained where he had been was the Cyclops, standing as though nothing at all had happened.

'The smell of blood is even thicker now….'

Jang Siwoon only then wrenched her wrist free of my hand, which was still holding it. In her shock, she couldn't even look at me properly.

"……."

Having the Curator take my side gave me no joy whatsoever. But honestly, his words were a rule that couldn't be denied. Only by being ruthless can one cast off compassion and act rationally.

"Jisan…."

In the gaze Siwoon finally turned on me, I could feel a subtle new distance. 'Oh no. She's wary of me now.'

A moderate distance was fine, but if she distrusted me too deeply, it could spell trouble in the team match. I wanted her to understand that I'd held her back so we could survive together. But that was probably asking too much, right now of all times.

'After all, I abandoned the man without even attempting to save him.'

"Don't worry, Siwoon."

"…What?"

"I don't betray comrades I've agreed to fight alongside."

"……."

Siwoon stared at me in silence, then spoke in a small voice. A shadow had settled over her face that hadn't been there before.

"Because I'm worth it?"

"…!"

I needed to rebut her quickly and win back her trust. But the Curator granted us no time to open our hearts to each other again.

Thum— Thum— Thum—

"The duel begins!!"

The instant war drums thundered through the arena, my heart surged all on its own.

"Now of all times, Jisan? You really want me to call it?"

"……."

Gyumin frowned at me with an imperious scowl, confirming the plan one last time. His complexion was deathly pale—there was a real chance the song wouldn't come out right. But—

'The Cyclops is… holding still.'

The Cyclops simply rolled its single eye and looked down at us. Watching what we would do, waiting for its moment to move. Whether that was the beast's own will, or the Museum forcibly pinning it in place, I couldn't tell—but—it's our chance.

"Yes. You have to do it now."

"Ha."

Gyumin exhaled an irritated sigh. Even so, without another word of complaint, he loosened his throat to sing.

"Aah—"

The moment his low, deep voice spread out, the clamor of the rowdy crowd gradually died away.

"Perk. Daemok—here it comes."

Just as every eye in the stands swung toward Go Gyumin—

he unleashed the perk he had kept hidden until now.

Flap—

"Here we go—one round, coming at you!"

The moment Go Gyumin's voice began, the very current of the air shifted at a frankly astonishing speed.

"KUUM!"

As Gyumin bellowed from deep in his gut, heat coiled through the stands. An energy that rippled like flame came pouring down over the arena and swept up the spectators in its wake.

'Master Go—magnificent, in the middle of all this terror.'

Just as Gyumin had explained it to me yesterday, everything around us was swaying to the pull of his song. Gyumin's pansori, when he invoked his perk, was no mere sound. It drank in human emotion and struck the target directly.

'The power of my perk is immersion. Depending on how deeply I immerse the opponents around me with my song, the strength and duration of my hold over a specific target changes.'

That was how Gyumin had explained it—the perk he'd hidden from us all along. And by his account, when he activated it here in this Colosseum packed with countless spectators, its power would be, quite literally—

'His immersion rating must be monstrous.'

Flap—

"Ooh. Whoa— that ajusshi's song just blasted out across the whole arena!!"

When Gyumin finished his song, the Curator went so far as to applaud.

'Sixty seconds?! That's incredible!'

"Now all we have to do is pick the command word when we need it!"

"Understood, Master Go!"

Gyumin and I clenched our sweat-slicked fists at the same moment.

"Your turn now, Jisan!"

Having played his first part, Gyumin signaled to me. The Cyclops was already beginning to writhe, groaning low. It seemed our grace period—time spent waiting on us—was over.

"Perk: Soul Rental. Zhang Fei."

I would keep grinding through every possibility here in the darkness—so lend me a hero's monstrous strength. All I asked was that that valorous, rough-edged, utterly unbending temper show itself in full, here in this barbaric arena of blood.

…….

…….

…….

He summons my soul into the light, and then—rather than drawing me out from the depths of the dark—he tries to puppet me from outside. Either he does not trust me completely, or in his arrogance he ranks his own head above mine.

"A truly laughable creature, this one."

"…Jisan?"

The woman standing beside me called for the owner of this body. Of the three, the one most practiced with her fists—Jang Siwoon, was it? I tilted my head slowly and curled the corner of my mouth upward.

"You would summon me by the name of some whelp, little runt?"

"Ah—so you're Zhang Fei, then."

"A woman of who knows what house, and utterly without courtesy!"

"Yes, yes, Master Zhang Fei."

Discourteous—but full of spirit. To survive a battlefield, one needs at least that much fire. Watching this Siwoon, who showed not the slightest intention of scraping and flattering me, laughter burst out of me unbidden.

"UWAHAHAHA!!"

"What the—?! Shut up, you little rat!!"

"Noisy, are you? Shut your gobs, you fat-bellied noble swine!!"

Nobles in my day, nobles here—one and all, an insufferable breed. I roared at the greasy aristocrats with the full force of my lungs. The owner of this body and his two comrades looked utterly aghast. Not my concern in the least.

"Creatures who have never shed a drop of blood in their lives, yet hunger for nothing but its scent! You things are lower than beasts!"

"……."

"……."

The nobles rolled their eyes in dumb stupor—and then—

"UWOOOOO!!"

"KILL THEM!!!"

Jeers and cheers tangled together and swelled, pounding like the war drums of the arena floor.

More insufferable than any noble, that headless thing. The underling of this very space—the space that gave rise to me and my sworn brothers—let out an exclamation of admiration at an outcome it had not foreseen.

Master of this body. Serves you right, doesn't it?