Chapter 489: The Price
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 489: The Price
The blade hummed, its edge radiating a cold, sharp light.
Wood was not as dissolute and obsessed with women as his appearance suggested. In truth, among the first group of people to follow the Rat King, he was the most ferocious and battle-hungry.
Countless souls from the Lower District wandered the afterlife because of this very blade.
He had thought that today, another soul would be added to that list—a heavyweight one, at that. But now, before the blade could even draw blood, it was stopped.
A long, broad palm had pressed down on the spine of the blade with effortless ease, halting it in its tracks.
"Who is it?"
Wood’s expression shifted violently. He tried to wrench the blade free, but the weapon that had been his companion for ten years felt as if it were caught in a steel vise, completely unresponsive to his will.
With a mounting sense of dread, his gaze fell upon the figure that had appeared before him out of nowhere.
It was a middle-aged man with deep-set features, bearing the distinct characteristics of a Northern Slav. He wore a suit of pure black formal wear; the hem was jagged and tooth-like, possessing both a beast-like wildness and a gentlemanly elegance.
The middle-aged man was expressionless, his eyes flickering with a hint of mockery. He simply watched Wood in silence. Though he did nothing, Wood felt a tide of darkness surging toward him, threatening to swallow him whole.
"You... you’re that Bruce?"
Trembling under the weight of his fear, Wood finally blurted out the name that was now known to almost everyone in the Lower District.
"Yes, it’s me."
Muen offered a thin smile and tipped his top hat slightly.
"I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m quite flattered that you know my name."
"Heh... flattered? I’m the one who—"
After the fear came despair.
Wood didn't know what else to say. He had already begged for mercy, and any further threats would make him look like nothing more than a posturing joker.
He never expected that the rebellion he had so meticulously designed and gathered the courage to launch would not be facing the Rat King at all.
Instead, he was facing the legendary "Dark Emperor" who had been missing for months.
The man who had ruthlessly decapitated the Mediator, beaten the gang leaders into submission, and forced every gang in the Lower District to bow their heads in a single night. The man who had caused the Red Fire Gang—then at its absolute peak—to collapse into a pile of dust.
Fierce, cruel, and heartless.
It was said that the black suit was merely a disguise, and that his true form was a ten-meter-tall monster with seven heads and eight arms.
It was said that he loved drinking the blood of infants and required at least ten newborns as sacrifices every day.
It was said that he had no interest in women, and his only hobby was toying with the lives of others...
It was said...
"Ha... the rumors make you out to be so terrifying, but in reality, you’re just... a man!"
Perhaps it was the desperation of a cornered beast, but Wood suddenly found a surge of courage from some unknown depth. He launched a ferocious attack at Muen once more.
He mobilized every ounce of strength in his body, funneling it into his weapon. He unleashed a high-priced martial technique bought from the black market. The brilliant blade energy surged violently. Under this reckless assault, the long sword in his hand could no longer withstand the sheer power; it let out a shrill cry, on the verge of shattering.
However.
"Sigh, I thought you would be a bit smarter than this."
Muen let out a sigh.
He flicked his finger toward the long sword.
"Five Stacks."
The whisper was nearly imperceptible, drowned out by the roaring thunder.
The entire building shuddered once again.
It was a mere flick of a finger, yet Wood felt as if a Siege Magic Cannon had been aimed directly at his face and fired point-blank.
In an instant, the world fell into an endless cycle of vibration and blinding light.
The weapon in his hand shattered before it could even touch the corner of his opponent's clothes.
When Wood finally regained his senses, all he could see was the blurring sky, stained red with blood.
"Ha... you really are... a monster."
Wood didn't know how many bones in his body were broken. He couldn't even lift a hand. He bared his teeth in an expression that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"Sorry."
Looking at the blood-soaked, wretched Wood, Muen—who hadn't actually intended to hit him that hard—scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"To be honest, I don't usually get many chances to fight ordinary people, so I was a bit heavy-handed. I'll be more careful next time."
"..."
Despite having lost a massive amount of blood, Wood’s face suddenly flushed a deep crimson.
Muen turned his attention elsewhere.
With Wood down, his subordinates—who had been clinging to a shred of resistance despite their fear—finally lost all courage. They dropped their weapons and surrendered.
Soon, the entire building was completely under the control of the Rat King's people. There might still be a few stragglers resisting on the lower floors who didn't know the situation, but they were no longer capable of causing any real trouble.
"Looks like it's over."
Muen gave a relaxed whistle.
"So, how much longer are you going to slack off, Sam?"
"Cough, cough cough... I'm not slacking off. I've practically got one foot in the grave here."
The Rat King, who had been sent flying earlier, clutched his chest with a miserable expression as he stumbled over.
This time, he wasn't faking. After taking several full-power hits from Wood, his protective Magic Armor was at its limit. The powerful impact had left him with significant internal injuries.
"I know you wanted to see if Wood had any more cards up his sleeve, but if you had waited any longer, you might have lost a loyal subordinate. You would've had to find someone you don't know at all to help you run the Rat Society."
"You seem energetic enough."
Muen gestured toward Wood with his chin.
"He's yours. Deal with him according to your rules."
"Yes."
The Rat King walked over to Wood and looked down at him.
Seeing Wood in such a pathetic state, the Rat King didn't show any mockery or hurl any insults. He simply asked expressionlessly:
"Do you regret it, Wood?"
"Who knows."
Wood opened his eyes, but it was hard to tell if his clouded vision could even see the Rat King standing before him.
"But it's done, so what does it matter? Even if I beg for mercy again, you won't let me go, will you?"
"Another old friend is leaving me. It truly is saddening."
"Ha, stop with that nauseating bullshit. You hypocrite."
"I have to say something nice before you die."
The Rat King raised his hand crossbow, aiming it at the center of Wood's forehead.
"Then, for you, it's all over. Goodbye, Wood."
"Goodbye my ass, you midget. I've been sick of looking at you for a long time, haha..."
"..."
Muen leaned against a nearby railing, bathed in the cool spring air, silently watching the Rat King place his finger on the trigger.
Well, it looks like this is finally coming to an end.
Come to think of it, I haven't had a good rest since that incident in the small town. I should take this chance to get some sleep. Otherwise, the upcoming date will be...
Ring, ring, ring, ring...
A sudden, urgent ringing sound echoed.
The Rat King’s finger froze on the trigger. He turned his head, looking at a spot not far from Wood.
It was a Voice Transmission Stone.
It must have belonged to one of Wood's subordinates, likely dropped during the chaos, and had rolled to a stop near the two of them.
And now, that Voice Transmission Stone was ringing.
Ring, ring, ring, ring...
The crisp calling sound was eerily out of place on this rooftop covered in silence and death.
It felt like a very dangerous omen.
"Damn it, you ruined the mood!"
The Rat King cursed and irritably raised his foot, intending to crush the stone.
"Wait, Sam."
Muen suddenly stopped him.
"Answer it."
"Eh? Why?"
"Answer it."
Muen stared at the stone, his face devoid of emotion.
"I don't think a call coming in at this time is a friendly greeting from someone's relative, Sam."
"..."
The Rat King froze for a moment, then realization dawned on him. He grabbed the Voice Transmission Stone and connected the call.
"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?"
A raspy, low voice came from the stone, sounding as unpleasant as two pieces of scrap metal grinding together.
Hearing that familiar voice, a murderous glint flashed in the Rat King's eyes, but he quickly suppressed it and looked at Muen respectfully.
"I understand."
Muen nodded and took the stone.
"Hello. Mr. Old Ghost, I presume?"
"It seems the connection was successful."
On the other end, Old Ghost, who was toying with his own transmission stone while pouring himself a glass of fine wine, chuckled.
"The one answering isn't Wood, so he must have lost. Which means... you are that... what was it? Right, that arrogant brat who thinks he's the 'Dark Emperor' just because he bullied a few idiots?"
"In front of an 'Old Ghost' like you, I am certainly just a brat. However, I never came up with a chuunibyou title like 'Dark Emperor' myself."
Muen replied politely.
"You may call me Mr. Bruce."
"Mr.? Haha, you certainly don't lack for nerve."
"As far as you're concerned, that's already a very polite way to put it. If I were to get serious about status, you wouldn't even be qualified to call me 'Mister,'" Muen said sincerely.
"Heh, you've got guts."
Old Ghost let out a cold laugh.
"I hope this 'Emperor' who possesses both strength and courage can remain this composed in a moment."
"Oh?"
"No need to be nervous. It's just a small gift I prepared to celebrate your victory over that waste, Wood."
"A gift?"
"Yes, a gift."
The moment the words left his mouth, a sudden mutation occurred.
Wood, who had been lying miserably on the ground with his life force fading, suddenly twisted in agony. He began to scream as if enduring immense pain.
Creeeeeak...
Every bone in his body began to grind and pop, as if an invisible force were rapidly dismantling every bone and every piece of flesh, only to stitch them back together into a different shape.
Wood's body swelled at a visible rate. Dark veins pulsed under his skin like a nest of snakes. His shrill screams turned into beast-like growls, occasionally reverting to whimpers of agony.
"Ah... this... is this... that medicine?"
Wood’s fingers clawed deep furrows into the floor, his flesh tearing, but soon, the exposed white finger bones transformed into hideous, monstrous talons.
"Old Ghost... you... you lied to me? The effect... it wasn't... wasn't supposed to be like this..."
"I didn't lie to you, though you certainly are a fool, Wood."
Listening to Wood's wails, Old Ghost chuckled nonchalantly.
"That medicine does indeed grant you a surge in power, giving you the courage to face the Rat King. But... for everything gained, there must be a price paid, must there not?"
"Since you've already lost, then... use everything you are as the chips to pay that price."