Chapter 189
Chapter 189
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 189
Chapter Title: A Feast of Screams
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Mozart's music is generally bright and fresh, yet rich in flavor. It's like oysters served with lemon butter sauce. Perfect when paired with a peaty whiskey.
The cuckoo's call is clean and nutty. It tastes like freshly made steaming soft tofu. Sweet merlot goes great with it.
EDM is typically crisp and vibrant, like a fizzy soda bursting with sweet energy. Best enjoyed with greasy food.
To Seo Sin-cheol, every sound in the world is akin to a gourmet delight. He savors the aromas and flavors, pairing them with the perfect drink.
This middle-aged man's scream is Emmental cheese.
That girl's plea is cherry ice cream.
The raw wail from the man screaming over his dead lover's corpse is tteokbokki.
The sound of that person's joints shattering is croquettes.
The tone of this one's forearm muscle tearing is apple pie loaded with cinnamon.
The crack of this woman's spine snapping just now is rich pork bone broth.
The cries people let out in agony are like silver-lidded platters hiding unknown delicacies.
What flavors and aromas will they hold? What about this one? That one over there? Curiosity feeds on itself.
"Now, let me hear your sound."
Seo Sin-cheol approached the woman bound hand and foot. Anticipation and excitement bubbled within him. What feast awaited him this time?
"P-please... spare me..."
"Arugula salad with anchovy dressing."
Seo Sin-cheol smacked his lips. It would make a fine appetizer.
Then, someone knocked on the door. The sudden sour note made him grimace.
"I have a report, sir."
"...What is it."
It had better be worth interrupting his meal. With that thought, Seo Sin-cheol eyed the man.
"Do you know about the Headhunters?"
"Those guys making waves lately? That Han Sang-ah woman's voice was something else."
Lobster, langoustine, and prawns stuffed with fresh ricotta cheese, wrapped in squid ink dough...
Topped with a sauce of olive oil-sautéed tomatoes and fish stock, white wine, tomato purée, and frangipane. Just like ravioli.
If her regular voice was this good, he wondered what her screams or death rattles would taste like.
As if in response, his stomach growled.
"It seems they're targeting us."
"Oh? You sure?"
"Yes. Dan-gun's Descendants got in touch and tipped us off."
"I see."
Unlike Seo Sin-cheol's calm reaction, the reporting man looked deeply worried.
"These are the ones who took out China's Kun Sal-ok."
"Three of them did that? No, they didn't."
It was the work of thousands of hunters, including those on Hope's List, all mobilized together.
"Yoo Chan-seok handled things alone in Seoul..."
"I know that, you idiot."
The story of Yoo Chan-seok single-handedly blocking the teleporting Kun Sal-ok monsters in Seoul was famous.
So what? The Barbaria forces numbered well over 100,000. Among them were hordes with unique abilities, and even the regular folk were armed with heavy weapons.
Hell, they even had their own battleships and destroyers.
"No need to worry. They're just flesh and blood. Cut 'em, they scream. Break 'em, they hurt."
Besides, Seo Sin-cheol was confident his abilities were on par with Yoo Chan-seok's.
"Anything he can do, I can do too."
Stop gravity, stop pain and fatigue. Halt enemy movements, nullify friction. The powers weren't all that different.
"Damn fool ruined my appetite."
Seo Sin-cheol killed the trembling woman in one go, then headed out the door.
"Get back in touch with Dan-gun's Descendants."
He owed them. They'd created an opening for his escape, and he'd received plenty of help since.
And he could count on more in the future.
"They already passed along a way to reconnect."
The note the subordinate handed him had a code scribbled on it.
"Korea, huh."
A fine country. In fact, one of the last real nations left on Earth. What Seo Sin-cheol remembered most from Korea was the dish he'd had at the Oduak main branch.
The only time he'd enjoyed fine dining like everyone else, beyond tasting through sounds.
"Just some sea snail stew, but..."
Spicy yet not unpleasantly so, refreshing without being bland. Not a hint of fishiness, with a mouthwatering sauce infused with scents of crown daisy and water dropwort.
Even after fleeing Korea, Seo Sin-cheol lived contentedly, but he occasionally missed Oduak's food.
He activated the terminal inside the building and input the code from the note.
―Seo Sin-cheol.
"Can't you ditch the machine voice?"
He grimaced at the sound. The modulated robotic tone was like a dish ruined by too much pepper, overpowering everything else.
―We're sending you a device. Your job is simple.
"A device, huh."
From the explanation, it was syringe-shaped.
―Stick it in Yoo Chan-seok's body. The rest is automatic.
No details on how it worked or its effects. Not that they planned to share.
Truth be told, Seo Sin-cheol didn't care. The Headhunters were coming for his fortress, that much was fact. If this device helped, the rest was none of his business.
After preparations, we boarded a plane and arrived in the UK.
"They went all out with the welcome."
Even with our tight budget, the UK squeezed out funds to treat us like state guests.
No need for all this. Our visit helped them too, sure, but fundamentally, it benefited Korea more.
We weren't even staying long. The ship was departing from the UK in two days, so we'd be here just that long.
"Heard there's a leak in Buckingham Palace."
Jeong No-hoon's comment drew a reply from Han Sang-ah.
"Not a rumor—it's true. Old building, used for ages. Fixing it costs a fortune."
You couldn't slap cheap sealant on a national symbol. But proper repairs? The UK's finances were in shambles.
"Feels like we're putting too much strain on them."
Riding in the VIP Bentley limousine provided by the royals toward the palace, I wore a complicated expression.
Bentley was originally British, though HQ had moved to Korea. Still, they provided one for state guests, honoring tradition.
"We've never been a burden."
Han Sang-ah said that, pulling a soda from the car's fridge.
"Besides, once we keep my grandfather's promise this time, our next target is Club Sandai, right?"
Italy's Ristorante and Israel's Club Sandai had plagued Europe for years.
"Yeah. Just say that, and the UK won't regret this investment one bit."
Most folks didn't know our next target yet.
"So, we'll basically lock in our next move here in the UK."
Han Sang-ah nodded at my words. She seemed thrilled now that Club Sandai was confirmed as the goal—she'd had it in mind from the start.
Upon arriving at Buckingham and stepping out, a military band played.
We paid respects to the Queen. Flanking her were the Prime Minister and the UK Hunter Association President.
"You've had a long journey. Korea's famed hunters honor us with their presence."
"It's our privilege to visit historic Britain once more."
No empire lasts forever.
Britain, once the world's bully, handed the throne to America. America passed it to Korea.
In time, Korea would yield it to someone else.
What's funny is how no one in their heyday admits the glory ends someday.
Back in Queen Victoria's day, when Britain boasted "the empire where the sun never sets," telling folks "Britain will one day be eclipsed by its colony America" would've earned scoffing laughs.
"We know you won't be staying long. But please, make yourselves at home during your visit."
After brief greetings, we headed to the banquet hall inside the palace.
Pea soup, beef Wellington with asparagus, and pudding pie with raspberry compote were served.
"The Barbaria scour Europe with ill repute. Mosquitoes threatening merchant ships, kidnapping to fatten their fleets."
I nodded at the Prime Minister's words.
"Our goal is to eradicate them this time. Essential for our next target, too."
"Related to your next target...?"
Everyone present perked up at my words. Linking Barbaria to our next move hinted it was in Europe.
Africa was possible, but packed with Erosion Zones and Cores—no Great Eights.
"We're eyeing Club Sandai."
The clink of cutlery quieted for a moment.
"Can we take that as an official declaration?"
I chuckled.
"Even if I'm no government man, I know better than to spout nonsense at a banquet."
This wasn't casual dinner talk. Every word carried weight.
"Of course, for the UK government, dealing with Ristorante—directly choking Europe—might be priority. We have our own reasons, though."
"No need for such talk. Israel's Club Sandai curses Europe as much as Ristorante."
Technically Middle East, but it ravaged Europe too.
"Once this is done, tackling Club Sandai means we'll owe the UK."
Europe's mainland was warlord turf. Only the UK had a functioning government.
Our base and support for hitting Club Sandai? Had to be them.
"When that time comes, Britain will back the Headhunters fully. As Hunter Yoo Chan-seok said, empty banquet words are rude. This is a promise."
"Thank you."
The meal proceeded smoothly. No reason it wouldn't—eradicating Barbaria helped them, and confirming Club Sandai next sealed the deal.
"We've heard unimaginable good news. Deep thanks for the Headhunters' efforts and consideration."
Unlike the Kun Sal-ok declaration, we had a track record now. Even claiming a Great Eight wouldn't raise eyebrows.
"Oh, and feel free to package this nicely for PR. We don't care."
The UK PM looked like he'd struck oil digging his backyard veggie patch.
They could spin it as convincing us—great PR. We only cared about clearing Erosion Zones and smashing monsters.
Politics? Not our game.
At least, the UK's frustrated public would explode with joy hearing their government swayed us.