Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 126
Chapter Title: Crossroads of Revenge (4)
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***
The air had changed.
It wasn’t the blood stench or the rotten odor wafting through the sewers.
It was a chilling, thick killing intent so intense it made her mana senses shrink back.
The Saintess unconsciously turned her head toward the source of the killing intent.
There stood the man who had just been trading jokes with her moments ago.
But in this instant, he felt utterly alien to her.
His frozen face, the hand gripping his sword tightly, and those golden eyes sunken as if suppressing something.
‘…Dung Beetle?’
Why was that? Just recalling the old name she’d only heard in stories made her feel like she understood something.
The moment the Saintess looked behind Seti to confirm her near-certainty, the killing intent filling the surroundings vanished like a lie.
As if he were hiding it from the people over there.
It was more convincing than a hundred words. While the Saintess swallowed hard, Dawn opened his mouth.
“…Saintess, when I give the signal, shoot Jeon Yun-seong.”
A voice so small only she could hear.
In the old days, she would have scolded him, telling him not to talk nonsense. At the very least, she would have asked why.
But from the lips of the Saintess, now too deeply influenced by him, came entirely different words.
“…Kill him?”
“No, just neutralize him. If he gets in the way… I’ll handle the killing myself.”
Instead of answering, the Saintess blessed the gun in her hand.
Confirming that, Dawn grabbed his sword and shotgun, then stood up.
***
How, and at what moment, would he meet the Player?
It was a question he’d pondered countless times whenever boiling emotions scorched his chest.
Would it be at the end of a fierce chase, pursuer and pursued? Or like enemies on a log bridge, in a do-or-die situation?
Maybe they’d cross paths in some secret hideout the bastard had stashed away… or so he’d thought.
But reality wasn’t as dramatic as his imagination. No intense pursuit, no life-or-death crisis.
Coincidence upon coincidence, and a small inevitability.
If he hadn’t known the Player was hiding as a second-year at the Academy, if the bastard hadn’t flashed that signature creepy grin, and if…
He hadn’t spotted the Imperial Knight’s sword hanging from Jeon Yun-seong’s waist.
Just as the Player hadn’t recognized Dung Beetle, Dawn wouldn’t have recognized him either.
‘When coincidence overlaps with inevitability… can that be called fate?’
Dung Beetle thought as he moved forward. If this truly was fate, it was a cruel joke.
To run into the bastard in a place reeking of blood and filth, just like the day he’d slaughtered the cleanup crew.
With each step closer, he swallowed his boiling killing intent. The Dung Beetle in his heart screamed, sweat slicked his sword hand.
But the more it raged, the cooler his head became.
‘His strength is unknown. End it with the first ambush…’
The moment Dawn reached the four of them with those thoughts, the Player stepped forward as if he’d been waiting.
Flashing that signature creepy grin, he extended a hand to Dawn.
“You must be that famous transfer student I’ve heard about. Nice to meet you. I’m Arthus, a second-year. It’s an honor to meet the savior of the first-years.”
Instead of shaking hands, Dawn glanced at Seti standing behind him.
No words were needed. Seti, who had been standing blankly until then, instantly understood his gaze.
But the Player seemed to misread the exchange, looking embarrassed.
“Ah, was I being oblivious? You two lovebirds first…”
The moment he withdrew his hand.
Dawn pulled the trigger on his shotgun.
Boom!!!
It was a perfect ambush, but no pellets embedded in the Player’s body.
A translucent barrier erupted from the bracelet he wore, blocking every single one.
“You fucking…!”
The Player reacted late, but Dawn’s sword was a fraction faster. A long silver line shot toward the bastard’s throat.
The barrier deployed again, protecting him. But it wasn’t enough to block a sword infused with Wave Yang Art mana.
Crack!
Mana dust burst from the shattered barrier, and a red line bloomed on the Player’s neck.
‘…Too shallow.’
Dawn frowned as his blade grazed the bastard’s throat. The barrier had prevented a full decapitation. At best, he’d nicked the soft part.
As he swung again, horror flashed in Jeon Yun-seong’s eyes beside him.
“You, what the hell are y—!”
The instant he reflexively reached for the Imperial Knight’s sword he’d received from the Player, a gunshot rang from the sewer depths.
Bang!
Blood sprayed from the back of his sword hand. Before he could react to the sudden sniper shot, bullets poured in relentlessly.
One to the knee, one to the ankle.
The blessed bullets pierced the superhuman’s flesh effortlessly. Jeon Yun-seong lost balance and toppled backward.
Even as he fell, he stared incredulously toward the direction of the shots.
Why would the Saintess…?
Unfortunately, his question never became words.
Before he could open his mouth again, Seti snapped his neck.
Crack.
With the sound of vertebrae shifting, Jeon Yun-seong’s body went limp.
***
By the time Seti grabbed the nape of the unconscious Jeon Yun-seong, Dawn was swinging at the fallen Player.
A blade tinged pale yellow swept the sewer floor with enough force to cleave both it and the bastard in two.
But just before it connected, the Player ‘grabbed’ something from thin air.
Flash!
Light exploded as Dawn’s sword sliced empty space—nearly simultaneous.
No feedback from the blade. Frowning, Dawn followed the light with his eyes to see the Player reappear in the sewer depths.
In his hand was a small gem, which crumbled to dust the moment the magic light faded.
Guessing its identity was easy. Any superhuman had heard of it at least once.
Commonly called a mana stone—a consumable magic tool.
As if that weren’t enough, the Player pulled another item from thin air. This time, a red potion vial.
“…”
Narrowing his eyes as the bastard poured it on his wound, Dawn wondered. What kind of technique was that?
Not magic or martial arts. No mana flow at all.
“You fucking bastard… what did you do to my underclassman?”
The potion was potent; the wound healed in seconds. The Player spat the words, his tone a mix of panic and rage.
Dawn didn’t reply immediately. He lowered his sword, gathered mana, and slowly approached.
When they were close enough to clearly see each other’s faces, Dawn spoke.
“…Long time no see, Player.”
“What? Fuck?”
Horror spread across the Player’s face. He gaped at Dawn in disbelief.
“…Who the hell are you? How do you know the name Player?”
Before the bewildered question fully escaped.
The answer came.
“Dung Beetle.”
“…”
The Player frowned, as if he couldn’t recall.
It was almost natural. To him, Dung Beetle was just one fleeting chunk of experience among countless others.
Dawn… no, Dung Beetle thought it wasn’t bad.
If he couldn’t remember, he’d just make him.
Dung Beetle channeled mana into his sword. White light bloomed along the blade, drawing a groan from the Player.
“Comet Sword…”
The next instant, the comet’s light filled the sewer.
***
Crunch.
The Player ground his teeth at the sound of his last 31 teleport mana stones shattering.
“Fuck.”
His shoulder, grazed by the sword aura, throbbed as if torn. He pulled a potion from ‘Inventory’ and applied it, but the pain lingered.
Step.
Before healing finished, footsteps approached. He’d jumped over 400 meters, yet the bastard had found him instantly.
Top-tier detection too. The Player let out a hollow laugh.
“Guess the real protagonist was over there…”
He had no idea why this guy was hostile. What even was Dung Beetle? Some code?
Something tickled at the edge of his mind, but nothing surfaced. He had grudges piled up from everywhere.
Pushing the thought aside with irritation, he drew weapons from ‘Inventory’.
A submachine gun loaded with mana bullets and a sword coated in dragon scales.
Looking at them, he thought it was for the best.
Protagonist or not, enemies were best crushed early.
The Player ran backward toward the approaching Dung Beetle in the sewer. The moment they met at the corner.
He pulled the trigger.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!!!
Dung Beetle’s response to the bullets pouring point-blank was immediate. He swung his sword expertly, guarding head and heart.
Real combat experience, definitely someone who’d been in shootouts. Ah, right—Manchurian mercenary?
‘Gotta kill him today for real.’
Leaving him alive would breed endless trouble. The Player tossed the empty mag gun and drew a repeating shotgun from Inventory.
Proven in games, the most efficient weapon against low-level superhumans.
But before he could fire, something translucent flew and pierced the barrel.
Crack!
“Fuck, dual talents?”
The Player cursed at the ice spike clogging the gun. Comet Sword and magic now?
Before he could toss the repeating shotgun, Dung Beetle closed the distance.
Fast. Too fast to draw another gun.
Clang!
Swords clashed. The jolt from the hilt tingled.
But…
‘…His swordsmanship is cruder than expected?’
The Player’s lips curled. A thought right after exchanging a few blows with Dung Beetle.
He suspected it might be baiting an opening, but after a few more clashes, he was certain.
This guy had never been properly trained in swordsmanship.
Better than Academy basics, but not by much. About low-level dragon elf swordsmanship at best?
Not strange. A mercenary without superhuman academy training wouldn’t have proper swordsmanship access.
Find a weakness, exploit it—that’s basic.
He narrowed the distance to prevent Comet Sword, activating a skill in his mind.
Nine Palace Thunder Sword.
A real deal sword art no Academy student could even glimpse before the first expansion.
He’d killed a bunch of annoying NPCs for it, but it was worth it.
Whoooosh!
Mana infused, milky sword aura cloaked the Player’s blade.
Dung Beetle resisted with his own aura, but that was it. The power in one strike, the precision in each motion—worlds apart.
Clang!
The moment auras collided, the level gap was clear.
The Player’s hair barely stirred, while Dung Beetle’s uniform tore, exposing skin.
Confirming the difference, the Player pressed with strikes. Downward slashes, sweeps, thrusts—driving Dung Beetle back.
“Just shoot your Comet Sword. You picked close quarters and bit off more than you can chew?”
As swords met, the Player sneered. Sparks flew from the dragon scale-coated blade with a screech.
Dung Beetle silently parried and swung back.
‘It’s over.’
The Player felt it in the blade’s feedback.
No need for game knowledge. The outcome was obvious from the eyes.
Wounds accumulating on Dung Beetle in real time, blood dripping, breathing ragged.
“Hey, got anything else?”
Certain of victory, he taunted. Deliberately exposing openings, he toyed, adding wounds like pinpricks.
‘Protagonist my ass, NPC is NPC. Who does he think he’s messing with…’
As the Player swung with that thought.
Clang!
Dung Beetle parried his blade. The Thousand Insect Lightning Flash motion, which had landed clean hits until now, was blocked—mana refluxing into his sword.
What?
The Player narrowed his eyes and retreated.
Wary of an incoming Comet Sword, he readied a teleport stone, but Dung Beetle didn’t use it—instead charging for more swordplay.
Only then did the Player sense something off.
‘This fucker’s been blatantly sticking to swordsmanship since earlier?’
Comet Sword made sense up close, but not using that ice spike from before…
Clang!!
Blocking Dung Beetle’s next strike, the Player realized the incongruity.
The swordsmanship gap was closing.
So minutely in real time, he hadn’t noticed.
‘No way…’
To shake off the suspicion, he unleashed the skill harder. Swings aimed to kill.
But somehow, the gap kept narrowing.
The swordfight chase continued until both were drenched in sweat.
Dung Beetle leaped back, creating distance. The Player didn’t pursue, catching his breath.
Amid the ragged breathing, Dung Beetle lowered his sword and asked.
“What’s the name of that sword art.”
An out-of-left-field question. The Player flipped him off.
Dung Beetle, as if not expecting a real answer, raised his sword with a calm face.
Simultaneously.
Whoooosh!
Sword aura gathered on his blade. Identical to the Player’s Nine Palace Thunder Sword—milky white.
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