Chapter 216
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: Grim Reaper's Pipe Beatdown
When I firmly pressed down on the chicken-head doll, a roar echoed from far away.
"Yeah, dinner bell's rung."
Come charging in excitedly like students bursting out of the classroom at lunch bell. Let's have a real rough-and-tumble today, you and me.
With a thunk, the thing that had slammed its harpoon into the ground came flying at me, spitting out fragmented words.
"Fucking retard. Total loser. Hooded skinny twig. Today you're gonna get beat to death..."
I couldn't just stand there idly by.
As it spoke, the creature flying in pulled by the harpoon's force raised its great scythe.
It was aiming for my head with a massive swing. The scythe blade was 230 cm long. The pipe in my hand was just 80 cm.
The ground was a bit damp but still firm enough. No slipping, no hindering my movements.
I just needed to focus. I couldn't see the swinging scythe itself, but I could spot the pre-swing stance.
Timing it perfectly, I dropped low, and the great scythe whistled past overhead.
Springing back up, I smashed the underside of its jaw with the steel pipe. Clang, and its head jerked skyward from the blow.
It landed solidly, but no major damage. Didn't matter. If a single pipe hit could drop it, there'd be no tension like this.
No Paradox Flame, no blue trajectory, no mana.
This wooden log of a body had none of the achievements I'd piled up so far.
I tapped the ground once with the pipe—thunk—and stared down the monster masquerading as the Grim Reaper.
"Don't need any of that shit to fuck up a punk like you."
The great scythe was huge and long. With a spear, I'd watch for thrusts, but a scythe couldn't thrust effectively. It could try, but even on this frail body, the power would be negligible.
With a weapon over 2 meters, I had to close the distance.
"Inevitably."
Up close, its options with the scythe were severely limited.
For example...
Spotting its arm move, I immediately rolled across the ground.
The scythe blade came slicing at my waist from behind. Yeah, when the enemy's in close with a scythe, pulling it in for a slash is pretty much your only play.
"Well, in games, pros beat final bosses in their underwear with bare fists. Hey, say something, you fuck."
I wondered how it felt getting pummeled by a wooden doll wielding a steel pipe.
Thwack, thwack, the pipe in my hands relentlessly battered its body.
It wasn't some indestructible wonder weapon; just a plain old steel pipe. I had to keep attacks within its durability limits.
All this was slowly reviving forgotten experiences.
"Guess I owe you some thanks for this."
Back when I first came to Earth, I was weak too, of course. But knowing the path to strength let me power up fast.
No need to dredge up dusty old memories to fight. But now, those ancient, worn recollections were essential.
And they were bringing back things I'd forgotten.
One day, when I reclaim my original power, these freshly revisited memories from this moment would become even greater strength.
Stronger than before.
"All from a fight this small and shabby."
I narrowly slipped a scythe swing, then shoved the pipe into its gut and grinned.
These shabby, trivial memories were forging my chance to grow stronger.
After dodging its attack, I reached for the golden glow dangling at its waist. Pop, and it was in my hand.
A bead. The orb in my palm glowed intensely, trembled, then shot skyward.
And one of the moons floating in the sky vanished. Just as I thought.
"Everyone watching this—hurry and grab what you need!"
I shouted that, then shared what I'd figured out. Find the glowing things.
Of course, my goal was to beat this bastard down right here.
But you always prep for possibilities.
If this brave challenge of mine turned out to be reckless stupidity, the other hunters needed to escape alive.
The other hunters could hardly believe their eyes watching Yoo Chan-seok fight.
'What the hell is that guy?'
Everyone thought the same. A body made of wooden logs, gripping a tattered steel pipe, battling a monster mimicking the Grim Reaper.
No holds barred. If it got dicey, he'd bolt to the ruins; the moment it followed, he'd hurl ash in its face.
Grab a chunk of brick from a crumbled wall and smash its mug.
Roll on the ground, yank its hood collar to snag on a jutting twisted nail, then jab its chest with a sharp wooden shard.
Literally no rules.
"It's... actually working?"
Jeong O-hoon muttered.
The scarier part was that it really was. Yoo Chan-seok wasn't taking a single clean hit, charging like a mad dog and pummeling nonstop.
Now it was confusing who should be running. His blows weren't powerful individually.
He looked like a killer beating someone to death with a spoon.
One hit not enough? Ten. Ten not enough? A hundred. Still not? A thousand, ten thousand—he'd keep going.
His fighting style resembled water dripping on a stone, wearing it away. Mechanical precision, no mistakes, no margin for error, just hammering with the pipe.
The ceaseless barrage lacked overwhelming power but racked up overwhelming gains.
"Damage is stacking up."
Seong Si-hoon muttered, mouth agape without realizing.
The monster's robe was in tatters now, and beneath the shreds, bruises piled up on its bony frame.
Yoo Chan-seok targeted the same spots relentlessly. One area so battered it almost seemed pitiful.
Was this what dying from endless flicking felt like?
The thing getting hit must be dizzy from the sheer volume now.
"Now!"
Once more, the pipe cracked its forehead. As it staggered hard, Yoo Chan-seok leaped, jamming a hidden kitchen knife into the battered brow.
Crunch, the blade sank deep.
It kept swinging the scythe—or so I thought—when suddenly the harpoon shot from the staff's end.
Not aimed at Yoo Chan-seok. It embedded somewhere far off.
"Is that... running away?"
Jang Tae-seok looked baffled. It was fleeing. Beaten senseless by a damn pipe, it chose escape.
The problem? Yoo Chan-seok had snagged its robe hem, like he knew all along.
"Hahaha! Where you going? Come with me!"
Yoo Chan-seok yelled, gripping the robe as he soared off with the monster.
"It's dead."
Han Sang-ah declared. In that flight, he'd clutched the pipe tight.
Landing at the harpoon site, he'd smash the forehead again—right where the knife was stuck.
With flight speed added, the knife would plunge even deeper.
Lethal. No doubt that strike would kill it.
Gripping its collar, I grinned with its face right in front of mine as we flew.
"Planned this from the start."
Didn't bring the kitchen knife for nothing. Pulled by the harpoon, we hurtled together. At this range, scythe or not, it had no moves.
Even if it could act, cumulative forehead trauma meant no coherent response.
"Die."
The instant it hit ground, I hammered the kitchen knife in its brow with the pipe.
The blade drove deeper, pulverizing its brain.
With the knife in its forehead, it howled motionless before collapsing limp.
"So, what happens now?"
The monster was dead. Pure achievement, ignoring the Erosion Core gimmick entirely. A sharp screech rang out as the whole lakeside shook.
Space crumbled and dispersed. We were back in the vast room with the giant Iron Maiden.
Something was off. Smashing the gimmick was one thing, but why was this guy wrecked too?
A gooey black mass without proper form, its slimy body cracked all over.
Not sure "cracks in slime" fit perfectly, but that's how it looked to me.
Blughhh, and from its mouth spewed bugs, filth, blades of all sorts...
"Looks like it'll die on its own without us lifting a finger."
Everyone nodded at my words. Black smoke billowed from its body, form collapsing bit by bit.
"Thought the Erosion Core nucleus would pop out, not some corpse."
Jang Tae-seok smacked his lips, eyeing it. Seems bypassing the standard method overloaded this thing massively.
The whole castle was going haywire. Han Sang-ah pondered briefly before asking,
"Come to think of it, normally when the Erosion Core vanishes, we get ejected automatically. What happens here?"
"Beats me?"
What indeed. A massive marble chunk crashed down from the ceiling—boom.
"No clue. Let's just get out."
That quivering black pudding over there, beaten solo, would croak itself. No need to worry.
We hurriedly prepped to bail from the castle.
"Jang Tae-seok, you can smash the castle now."
At my words, he revved the engines on the tonfa in both hands.
"Sweet. I'll clear the path."
And like a human rocket, Jang Tae-seok blasted out, pulverizing walls in a rampage.
Oh man, this guy's like a hearty bowl of beef soup. Just watching him barrel through fills my gut with comfort.