Chapter 31
Chapter 31
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Crushing Russia
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"W-Wow..."
"Is that S-Rank?"
The crowd gaped in unison at the dust-choked duel arena.
Did he transcend superhuman and become a god?
To summon lightning from the heavens, no less.
Even amid the chaos, the spectators' eyes darted ceaselessly.
"Is he alive?"
"He got hit by lightning. I saw it clear as day with both eyes. How could he survive? He's dead."
"No, if it's Yong-un, it'll be different. He might've dodged just enough to graze him."
Alive? Dead?
Minor injuries? Critical?
Could the match even continue?
Every eye in the stands pierced the dust cloud, doubting their own thoughts and clinging to faint hope.
Thousands of gazes scoured the thick haze.
"Huff... huff..."
As the crowd murmured in anticipation of the outcome.
The hunter who'd sparked all these questions collapsed to his knees.
"Good work."
"He won't be getting up."
A Russian hunter from the waiting area patted the fallen magic-type hunter.
"He won't get up, that's for sure. Not against a skill crafted on the advice of the great Archmage Vladimir."
The others chimed in as the Russian patted him.
"Forget the Archmage's advice—even a hunter would die or be in mortal danger from a direct lightning strike. That's common sense."
"Looked like he couldn't dodge to me. If it hit, the match is over."
The Russians spoke with smiles, as if victory was already theirs.
And who could defy natural disaster with mere human flesh?
Of course. Certain of their win, the Russians began discussing how to handle the remaining Sword Tiger.
But a man's voice pierced their chatter.
"Agasha, what are you so anxious about?"
"Captain?"
The Russian national team captain Konstantin's words drew the laughing hunters' eyes to the magic hunter in the arena.
"..."
His breathing had steadied.
The mood screamed assured victory.
Yet Agasha, who'd cast the skill and seen Yong-un's final moment clearest, looked off.
Spaced out, as if verifying something.
"Agasha."
At Konstantin's call, the kneeling Agasha rose.
He fixed his gaze on the dust cloud and scowled.
"I don't know. Something feels wrong. The lightning pierced that guy's body clean through. So why this unease?"
"Unease?"
The Russians' smiles faded at Agasha's words.
Then, sensing the aura, every Russian hunter, Konstantin included, locked eyes on the dust.
Whoosh.
A fierce wind blew from somewhere.
The dust cloud that had tantalized everyone vanished in an instant with the gust.
"No way."
Agasha's voice rang out in horrified disbelief.
And the crowd erupted.
"Wooooaaah!"
"Yong-un!"
"Yong-un! Yong-un! Yong-un!"
Even the unflappable Konstantin bulged his eyes.
Because.
There stood Yong-un in the cleared dust, utterly unscathed.
Crackle. Pop.
Sparks still danced across his body.
Yet Yong-un's expression remained unchanged as he slowly advanced on Agasha.
Step. Step.
His steps halted right before her.
Agasha, abandoning any thought of evasion, trembled faintly as she looked up at him.
"To contain another person's energy within your body... Skills are intriguing. If this is possible, then greater feats await."
Swoosh.
Yong-un leaned in close to her face.
"A reward for showing me something amusing. Step down yourself."
His face and breath so near, Agasha stammered.
"O-Okay."
"Hmph."
Yong-un turned and walked back to his spot.
Watching Agasha's skill, Yong-un felt certain.
'Skills—and magic—are different from martial arts.'
Perhaps a new discipline akin to the sorcery spoken of in the murim world.
That seemed the more accurate view.
Agasha, opting to forfeit, descended from the arena.
As the next Russian hunter climbed up, Yong-un examined his palm.
Crackle.
Residual lightning gathered there.
He clenched his fist tight.
The electricity flowing over his body dispersed in a burst.
"If another discipline exists, it must teem with masters who've reached new heights."
Yong-un gave a faint smile.
Then the buzzer blared for the next match.
Beeeep!
"Hah!"
Yong-un stepped forward toward the approaching Russian hunter.
The VIP seats always reserved spots for elites.
Right beneath the massive screen.
Seats for monsters in the global S-Rank top ten.
"Damn it."
The crowd's excitement burned hotter than ever.
A subtle shift rippled through the VIPs too.
The usually silent section buzzed with talk this tournament.
"Too bad, Archmage."
The Archmage's beaming smile twisted within a minute.
Furrows creased his brow, eyebrows knit dark.
He turned his head away from the arena entirely, as if refusing to look.
"Where'd that freak come from?"
The VIPs nodded faintly at the Archmage's grumble.
"No way to know. Korea was off our radar."
"Once, ten years back. Then nothing."
"Weird, though. A guy like that from a speck like Korea."
The Archmage stood abruptly at their words.
"No time for leisure."
He strode toward the dome exit.
Pausing, he addressed the remaining VIPs.
"No one saw how that Korean crushed Ukraine, right?"
With a meaningful toss, the Archmage smirked and left his final words.
"Get ready, all of you. Not sure who'll remain... or vanish."
National team hunters had once sought out VIPs.
Unable to fathom the divine feat Yong-un displayed.
The VIPs quietly advised their teams, unheard by others.
The hunters departed for matches.
Pride kept VIPs from sharing discussions.
But their faces told the tale.
'No one saw it.'
A woman glancing at nearby VIPs smiled brightly.
Her cute face belied a voluptuous figure and effortless elegance.
Like a cat turned human.
She slid from her seat and whispered to the man beside her.
"Sword Dragon."
The man in a blue jacket embroidered with dozens of golden dragons turned slightly.
"Quiet, Golden Cat."
Unfazed by his gruff tone, Golden Cat grinned mischievously.
"Heehee, funny, right? No one saw it."
"No surprise."
"Oh? You saw?"
Sword Dragon's gaze shifted to the arena.
"Don't label the unknown as 'skill.' That's why you stagnate."
"As expected from an old soul~"
Golden Cat clapped lightly.
Leaning closer, she pressed.
"So what was it? Not a skill?"
"A swift strike wrapped in mana, followed by an explosive burst of compressed mana. Like this."
Sword Dragon lightly gathered mana and thrust his hand.
A bang! echoed, shockwave rippling—just like Yong-un against Ukraine.
"Whoa!"
Golden Cat gasped; other VIPs stared at Sword Dragon.
'Replicated just from watching?'
Awe etched their faces.
Sword Dragon ignored them, dispersing his mana.
He whispered to Golden Cat alone.
"Talent plus grueling effort yields such results. But the real issue..."
Golden Cat matched his low tone.
"What?"
"That's not his limit."
"...?!"
Mischief drained from Golden Cat's face for the first time.
But only briefly.
"Oh~?"
Her lips curved higher, mischief amplified as she stuck out her tongue.
She licked her moist lips slowly.
"This just got exciting."
Thud.
"Urgh... I lost."
Even Russian captain Konstantin crumpled.
Yong-un had single-handedly demolished all eight Russians.
"Wooooaaah~"
"Insane!!!"
The unprecedented rampage ignited commentators and crowd alike into frenzy.
When had excitement peaked like this?
As if sharing history's moment, spectators and casters united in cheering Yong-un down from the arena.
"Russia—a top contender—eliminated in the quarterfinals!"
"And to a nation with no prior runs—Korea!"
"Korea to semifinals! Tournament sweep! Historic!"
The caster screamed till veins burst; Yong-un twitched an eyebrow.
"Noisy."
As he descended, Sword Tiger rushed up and seized his hand.
"So cool!"
Yong-un sensed something off in Sword Tiger's uncharacteristic fervor.
"You too...?"
Only then did he notice Sword Tiger's flushed face, eyes brimming with tears.
"Ah..."
Sword Tiger was no different.
Casters, crowd, Sword Tiger.
All wore the same expression, same gaze toward Yong-un.
The heavy, embarrassing vibe made him recoil; he hurried to the waiting room.
One step toward the exit.
But then.
'So cute~'
A voice snagged his ankle as he fled the pressure.
Halt.
As if muting all sounds and amplifying itself—a mystical timbre.
Unlike telepathy, a unique qi manipulation halted Yong-un.
He looked up toward the voice—from the upper stands.
'Hi~'
Golden Cat waved at Yong-un, her eyes flashing bright yellow.