Chapter 173
Chapter 173
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: For Whom Does the Bag Open? (4)
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[Player! We cannot tolerate you disrupting the scenario any further!]
Play… what? What the hell is that?
The spirit that had just awakened within him couldn't keep up with the situation.
But his body was instantly ready for battle. Power surged into every muscle, and mana pulsed through his veins.
It was instinctive. The Juga Shibili Style instinct reacting to killing intent.
Indeed, the red arm flying toward him was a massive lump of killing intent.
What the hell is that thing, to carry such killing intent? Yeomyeong's question didn't last long.
The next moment, a massive shadow loomed over his head.
A falling palm, overflowing with killing intent.
Yeomyeong didn't dodge.
Because there was no space to dodge? No, because he didn't know what would happen to Seti and the Saintess behind him if that arm crushed them.
He braced his waist and legs, raising both arms to block the red palm.
Boom!
As the concrete floor cracked, Yeomyeong's ankles sank into the ground. His joints screamed under the impact pressing down on his entire body.
[You must be the one who ruined the Manju and Academy scenarios as well.]
Player? What bullshit is this? Yeomyeong wanted to retort, but he gritted his teeth instead.
Any disruption in his breathing would mean being crushed flat.
[Did you think you could become the protagonist by stealing the protagonist's opportunities and ruining the prepared scenario?]
It spoke in a majestic voice, like dozens of men speaking at once.
[With your addict brain, you couldn't possibly understand. How many sacrifices it took to get here! How much pain!]
No sooner had the red arm said that than the pressure increased.
The moment he felt his leg bones shifting, Yeomyeong unhesitatingly unleashed the Juga Shibili Style.
A martial art that converted killing intent into mana, enhancing regeneration and the body.
Red killing intent enveloped Yeomyeong's body. Soon, not only his own killing intent but even the killing intent forming the arm was sucked into his body.
[Juga Shibili Style? How dare you…!]
The arm reacted violently. It roared like a dragon robbed of its treasure and clenched into a fist.
And…
Crash!!
It smashed down on Yeomyeong. An impact incomparable to simply pressing with the palm.
His blocking arms snapped, and the un-deflected shock shook the floor.
Yeomyeong regenerated the wounds instantly, but the fist continued its assault relentlessly.
Once, twice, three times, five, ten…
Like a hammer pounding a nail, the fist endlessly hammered Yeomyeong's head.
It wasn't just a metaphor. Yeomyeong's body was truly being driven into the floor.
Past his ankles to his calves.
The near-infinite regeneration of the Juga Shibili Style was holding out, but he wasn't sure if it would endure once his body was fully embedded in the ground.
Yeomyeong struggled desperately to find an escape. He tried magic, tried twisting the arm to deflect the impact.
But no resistance was enough to shake off the red arm.
If he had a sword, maybe, but bare-handed, even blocking was a struggle.
‘…Right, the sword.’
Yeomyeong extended his senses to locate the sword.
Unfortunately, the sword he had dropped while blocking the blade earlier was too far away.
Too far even for telekinesis.
As he reluctantly gave up on the sword and turned his head, the blade suddenly glinted.
It wasn't a brilliant light. Just a brief flash.
But in that short flash, Yeomyeong suddenly remembered the inventory.
Player, how did that guy put items into the inventory?
He already knew how to take them out. Imagine the item and grasp the air.
Normally, putting items into the bag wasn't much different from taking them out.
So, the way to put items in was perhaps…
Between doubt and certainty, possibility and death, Yeomyeong reached out toward the sword.
And the next moment, he clenched his fist.
***
Feeling the player's inventory—his sub-space—open, the red arm put even more force into its fist.
[Rat bastard. Your pathetic resistance ends here. This scenario will not go your way!]
A strike meant to pulverize his head.
But just before the fist reached Yeomyeong's head, light burst from his right hand.
The flashing beam collided with the oncoming red fist.
[!!!]
The fist split, and a silent scream echoed through the control room. A scream that pierced beyond human eardrums, vibrating mana itself.
Yeomyeong covered his ears and pulled his legs free from the floor.
Then, finally planting his feet on the ground, he gripped the Tears of the Mountain from his inventory and thought.
‘What? Why is the sword suddenly brimming with power?'
The red arm seemed to think the same, growling at Yeomyeong and his sword.
[How, how did that pathetic sword scrap hurt my avatar—]
But no matter what it blabbered, Yeomyeong had no intention of wasting time or talking.
He kicked off the ground and leaped, slashing down with the sword.
Wave Yang Art's waves led, followed by milky sword qi drawing a long line.
Finger fragments rained down where the line passed.
Red killing intent flowed instead of blood.
The red arm didn't scream. Instead, it calmly distanced itself from Yeomyeong.
Leaping back, it regenerated its severed fingers while ranting.
[Mana Metal… A weapon of those filthy fur beasts, huh.]
Fur beasts? Yeomyeong unconsciously furrowed his brow. That was a derogatory term for dwarves.
An archaic slur from decades ago.
It recognized the Tears of the Mountain as a dwarven weapon, fine, but for a non-human thing to use that slur.
Tch. He clicked his tongue and raised his sword.
Now that he confirmed the sword was its weakness, he planned to end it right there…
[Gah!]
The red arm suddenly began to fade. Because Yeomyeong had stolen too much killing intent? No, not that.
The reason its killing intent was diminishing was the darkness enveloping the control room.
Mignium's darkness, familiar to Yeomyeong.
As the shadow-indistinguishable darkness slowly receded from the control room, the red arm's killing intent visibly waned.
[Using me…! You're no different from the Five Gods!]
Screaming that, the arm suddenly changed direction and flew toward the center of the control room.
Toward where Seti and the Saintess stood frozen. Yeomyeong immediately unleashed Flying Leg Art to pursue it.
A brief chase ensued, and just as the red arm cast a shadow over Seti's head.
Yeomyeong's sword barely grazed the red arm.
The blade cleaved it in half, but it didn't stop. Instead, it accelerated, trailing killing intent.
Yeomyeong, about to pursue, halted upon seeing its trajectory.
Its target wasn't Seti or the Saintess.
What it aimed for was…
‘The central monitor?’
Boom! The severed arm crashed onto the monitor, smashing all surrounding equipment.
Especially the launch code keyboard, reduced to unrecognizable scraps.
…What? Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes at the glowing arm fragments around the monitor.
It gave up the fight just to destroy that monitor? Why?
Of course, that monitor wasn't ordinary. The central control computer for entering nuclear launch codes.
But that was only before the codes were entered.
Once the launch codes were input, any computer linked to the control room center…
‘No way?’
Looking up just in case, the red arm turned his suspicion into certainty.
[The nukes launched by Bikov, the nukes left in the arsenal… You won't get your hands on any of them.]
“…”
[The scenario is firm. Player, this is your defeat.]
A tone half disgust, half mockery. Yeomyeong swallowed a bitter smile.
‘…As expected, this thing doesn't know I've already entered the launch codes. Why?’
Because entering the launch codes wasn't part of the original ‘scenario’?
He couldn't know the exact reason.
But one thing was clear: there was a reason it had to prevent the code entry.
And that reason was probably…
“…The inventory's retrieval ability.”
[…]
“If we assume the inventory's owner can put anything in the bag as long as it's in their line of sight…”
Hypotheses connected in Yeomyeong's mind, yielding one answer.
“The moment the launch code is entered, ownership of the nuclear missile transfers to that person? That's why it destroyed that monitor to prevent code entry. Right?”
An ambiguous question or confirmation. Even Yeomyeong wasn't certain.
Instead of answering, the red arm mocked him.
[Whatever you realize now is too late. The monitor for entering codes is already smashed.]
Silently, Yeomyeong turned to the large monitor on the control room wall. More precisely, he eyed the nuclear missile displayed on it.
Unlike the sword in the control room, it was hundreds, perhaps thousands of kilometers away.
Could he put that in the bag? No certainty.
But it was worth trying. Like all pioneering efforts.
After a brief pause, Yeomyeong reached toward the large monitor and said.
“…You should have smashed the large monitor instead of the central one.”
As he clenched his fist, an enormous amount of mana crossed through space.
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