Chapter 8 - The Truth Behind the Muttering (2)

Luck.

It was pure luck that I dodged the Sword Saint's strike.

"Hm?"

The Sword Saint raised his eyebrows. He probably thought I was an incredibly skilled fighter. He would have prepared for such a fighter to parry his blade, dodge, or even counterattack... but surely he hadn't expected me to roll across the ground so disgracefully.

"S-Sword Saint, sir, wait a moment. Please hear me out!"

I didn't mind dying. I'd followed him to get killed, after all. But even if I was going to die, I wanted to find out whether there was any way to clear up his misunderstanding first. That way, I could avoid needless clashes on my next run.

"I'm really just a nobody, an F-rank hunter..."

"You dodged my blade. You must indeed be an elite assassin!"

"Oh, is this old geezer deaf?!"

This was bad. Far from clearing up the misunderstanding, I'd only made it worse.

Again, dodging that attack had been pure luck. My eyes hadn't even been able to track where the blade came from or how it moved. That old man's skill far exceeded my ability to perceive it.

'If he attacks again, there's no way I can dodge!'

Was I going to have to give up on persuading him after all?

Resigned to death, I watched the Sword Saint slowly approach.

"..."

He paused.

Just then, the Sword Saint hesitated briefly. His footsteps stopped.

At first, I thought to myself:

'Oh? Is he going to hear me out?'

But no. The Sword Saint wasn't looking at me. The white-haired old man was frowning at empty air. I glanced over too, wondering whether a mosquito was flying around, but there was nothing there.

"... Didn't I tell you I would handle this myself?"

The old man spoke into the empty air.

"... Be quiet. Capture him and interrogate him? How could we let a devil like this live...?"

He was talking to himself again.

'What?'

The Sword Saint, who had seemed ready to cut me down at any moment, had stopped his blade for some reason. Instead, he began muttering incessantly to himself. The imminent crisis had been postponed, if only a little.

I furrowed my brow.

'Could... that muttering be a skill too?'

Yes. Maybe it was.

Back at the tavern, I'd jumped to the conclusion that the old gentleman was mentally ill. But watching him talk to himself right in front of me, something felt different. Was it a little too elaborate for mental illness? He genuinely seemed to be having a conversation with someone.

'A telepathy skill?'

The theory suddenly occurred to me. Telepathy, or voice transmission. An ability that let you freely converse with someone far away. I knew such skills actually existed.

'Then... is he telling other people about me?'

A chill ran down my spine.

'Telling them he's found someone who massacred 4,091 people?'

A wanted notice.

Very rarely, the Hunter Administration Bureau designated someone a wanted criminal. They called it a wanted notice, but it was practically an execution order. Every major guild became the criminal's enemy, and the highest-ranked hunters pursued them.

Until they were publicly executed in the square of Babylon, the Tower's First-Floor City.

'I can't let that happen.'

I clenched my teeth.

'I have to die right now!'

To prevent even the slightest chance of a wanted notice being issued. To return twenty-four hours into the past and erase everything that had just happened. I had to die immediately, without a moment's delay.

I glared straight ahead.

"... Enough. My mind is already made up. Even if you are my master..."

The old man was still muttering to empty air. Was it merely an old man's mental illness, or was he actually talking to someone...? I couldn't be completely certain. But certain or not, I opened my mouth to prevent the worst possible disaster.

"Are your grandson and granddaughter doing well?"

The old man's muttering stopped abruptly.

Then he slowly turned his head toward me.

"I've been hearing that things are getting dangerous in the outside world lately. As your grandson and granddaughter, I'm sure they're lovely children. You must have so much to worry about."

"..."

Deep blue eyes.

They were as still as the shimmer on the surface of the deep sea.

"I hear you used to belong to a prominent family in Northern Europe. Aren't families like that prime targets for terrorists? Who knows? Perhaps, without your knowledge, some thugs have already taken your grandchildren's lives—"

SHICK.

'Huh.'

A sound like a ripe apple being sliced in half.

'What?'

At first, I couldn't understand what the sound was. I'd been watching the old man the entire time. He definitely hadn't moved. Not even a twitch. He was merely standing silent, his aged lips closed.

Where had that sound come from?

The strangeness didn't end there. The Sword Saint had been standing firmly upright on the ground. Yet the ground was turning over more and more.

The horizon tilted. The half-moon flipped over, floating in the night sky like a rowboat. In a world where the night sky lay upside down and the waxing half-moon tipped into a waning one, a lone old man hung from the horizon.

"..."

The old man's blue eyes watched me. Those eyes suspended in the sky resembled starlight, and I felt I understood why he was called the Sword Star.

Then I realized.

'Ah.'

The ground wasn't turning upside down.

My head had been severed, and it was falling upside down.

One strike.

'Beautiful.'

My eyes hadn't been able to follow the old man's strike. But though I hadn't seen it, I could see the world after that strike had cleaved through it. Looking at that world, I found myself thinking it was beautiful.

A moment later, I hit something. My mind went blank. My ears felt clogged. I couldn't hear anything. Only a little later did I realize my head had fallen and struck the ground.

By the time I realized that... my eyes no longer reflected anything.

[You have died.]

What sort of skills did it take?

How many years of training would it take to reach such a level?

[Your death has fulfilled the skill's conditions.]

I was overcome by an emotion entirely different from what I'd felt when the Flame Emperor killed me... its complete opposite. With the Flame Emperor, I'd felt betrayed. I'd wanted revenge.

But not with the Sword Saint.

'I want to be like him.'

I was simply envious.

'I want that strike.'

The emotions I'd felt before learning the truth about Yoo Suha, the Flame Emperor.

'I want it too!'

Jealousy. Possessiveness. Admiration.

Endless desires set my heart ablaze once more.

And a voice answered my flames.

[Randomly copying a skill from hunter Markus Kallenberg.]

Cards appeared in the darkened world.

[Generating skill cards.]

SHFFFT!

All the cards showed only their backs. Was that to hide which card contained which skill?

'Still, I can see their colors more clearly than when the Flame Emperor killed me.'

Perhaps it was because I'd already grown accustomed to death. 4,090 times. As the Sword Saint had proven with his [Kill Count Skill], I'd already experienced thousands of deaths.

No hunter could be more familiar with death than I was.

'Not that it's anything to brag about.'

Just as I felt like giving a bitter smile:

[Please select a skill card.]

The cards that had been floating motionless in the air began darting about.

'Whoa!'

The sudden movement startled me. But I quickly collected myself and focused on the cards.

'I don't need anything else. Gold! I have to pick a gold card, no matter what.'

They were fast. So fast it was practically impossible to follow them with my mind.

'Good grief.'

Had I really picked a gold card from cards flying around this fast when the Flame Emperor killed me? Me? How had I managed that? It struck me anew just how incredibly lucky I'd been.

'There's no reason I can't get lucky again! Come on. Gold. Where are you, gold?'

But then...

Something was strange.

'Huh?'

No matter how closely I looked, I couldn't see one.

'I don't think... there's a gold card?'

Among the cards whizzing before my eyes were shit-brown cards and silver cards. But there wasn't a single card shining gold. Thinking I'd missed it, I concentrated again and again, but there simply wasn't one.

There was only one possibility.

'N-no way?'

I was aghast.

'There really... isn't one?'

From the very beginning...

The Sword Saint hadn't possessed any S-rank skills.

3

'That's impossible!'

I felt like screaming.

'He's the number-one-ranked hunter, for crying out loud! He reigned like a legend until that Flaming Bastard showed up, and he doesn't have a single S-rank skill?'

It was almost impossible to believe. But it was true. My own skill was proving it beyond any doubt. The Sword Saint, Markus Kallenberg, had reigned alone at the very top without even an S-rank ability.

Shock and horror, indeed.

'No, no! That can't be right!'

Faced with shock and horror, my response was... simple denial.

'There has to be some ridiculously overpowered skill among the silver cards!'

Should I call that desperate, or pathetic?

Either way, I was desperate. Desperately earnest, I stared at the cards.

'Three shit-brown cards. Four silver cards.'

Seven cards in total were flying chaotically around.

'Ignore the shit-brown cards completely.'

A rational choice.

Now the question was which silver card to choose!

The [Kill Count Skill] was probably among them. And there would be some unknown, overpowered skill too.

Naturally, I didn't want a questionable ability like Kill Count. I wanted something as overpowered as my regression skill.

'A one-in-four chance!'

In short, a gamble.

I'd have to pick the winner through pure luck.

'Please, give me the one I want!'

I reached out.

'I'm begging you, just this once! Give me the Sword Saint's overpowered skill!'

And I snatched a silver card.

[Selection complete. Copying skill.]

[Returning to 24 hours ago.]

* * *

"—Gasp!"

Swallowing a short groan, I sprang up.

My tiny room.

My rented room welcomed me, its generous two pyeong of space enough to make anyone feel generous in turn. A musty smell had conquered the bedding, which hadn't been washed in ages.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to admire my one-room home.

"D-did I get it?"

I checked my status window first.

To find out whether I'd won or lost my one-in-four gamble!

+

Name: Kim Gongja

Rank: F

Skills (3/4)

1. I Want to Be Like You (S+): Passive

2. Regressor's Clockwork Watch (EX): Passive

3. Sword Constellation (A+): Passive

4. None

+

"Ah..."

I sighed, equal parts admiration and lament.

"At least I was lucky enough to draw an A-plus skill..."

First, admiration.

Though it fell short of S-rank, I was relieved that I'd still drawn the best possible card. Avoiding a questionable ability like the Kill Count Skill was also lucky, if you could call it that.

"... Another passive skill?"

Then, lament.

What I'd wanted in the first place was a combat skill. Some rare martial art, swordsmanship, or perhaps an ability that awakened aura. Most abilities like that were active skills.

In other words, I'd failed to acquire a top-tier combat skill.

"Hah."

A sigh escaped me.

"No, come to think of it, I'm complaining when I've already got more than enough..."

If the countless bottom-rung hunters heard my lament right now, they'd go berserk. How dare I complain after getting an A+ skill?

Right.

I decided to look on the bright side. For now, I'd focus on the skill in front of me.

"Open skill cards."

The cards smoothly appeared before me, visible only to the hunter who owned them.

[I Want to Be Like You (S+)]

[Regressor's Clockwork Watch (EX)]

[Sword Constellation (A+)]

Sword Constellation. The name alone gave me no clue what kind of skill it was.

"Well, I Want to Be Like You has a really strange name too."

It was hard to judge whether a skill was a dud or a winner by its name alone.

Maybe it was an incredible ability.

Comforting myself with that thought, I took hold of the silver card. Just then:

—Ah. What's all that noise?

A voice I should never have been able to hear came from somewhere.

—Old man, how many times has your master told you? If you're going out to train at night, do it quietly.

"..."

—When you move, I automatically float along after you. You don't need to wake me up. Let's show each other a little courtesy, please. Hm?

Slowly.

Very slowly, I looked in the direction of the voice.

On the bedding in my one-room home, where there was barely enough room for me alone to lie down... something was there. Something hazy, but unmistakably present. It lay sprawled like a bull, its back turned toward me.

"Excuse me."

Goosebumps rose on my skin.

"Who are you?"

—Huh?

Then my eyes met those of the unidentified thing.

A ghost. A phantom.

Something that could never be mistaken for a living human.

—Huuuh?

The ghost looked fierce. If he hadn't been wearing clothes, I might have mistaken him for a gorilla. With his broad frame and furrowed eyebrows, he had the looks to star in a horror movie.

—Hey, who are you?

"... That's what I'd like to ask. Who are you?"

—You can see me?

I nodded uneasily.

"Yes."

—And hear my voice?

"Uh, considering we're communicating right now... common sense would suggest so, wouldn't it?"

What was this? Was I talking to a ghost right now?

I'd always imagined ghosts wandering around like monsters, steeped in the grudges they carried from life. But this ghost was different. Aside from his hazy body, he spoke exactly like a human.

—Huh, that's strange. This shouldn't be possible.

The ghost tilted his head. It seemed I wasn't the only one who couldn't understand what was happening.

—Where is this? It's cramped as a damn doghouse. Where did old Markus disappear to, and why is a greenhorn like you standing in front of me?

For the first time, something I could understand came out of the ghost's mouth.

"Uh, by Markus... do you mean Markus Kallenberg? The Sword Saint?"

—Tsk, tsk. Well, calling a beginner like him the Sword Saint is far too generous.

The ghost clicked his tongue, apparently displeased with something.

—Anyway, yes, that's what they call the old man. Where did he go? He should be somewhere around here.

I was dumbfounded.

'The Sword Saint is a beginner?'

The current number-one-ranked hunter. Since Yoo Suha, the Flame Emperor, was fated to die at my hands, he would probably reign at the very top far into the future.

Who on earth was this ghost, who called such a towering figure a mere beginner? And why had I suddenly become able to see him?

"..."

To answer those questions, I turned over the silver card.

Then I read the skill description.

+

[Sword Constellation]

Rank: A+

Effect: A native of another world. He cleared that world's Tower up to the 99th floor, but met defeat with the 100th floor just ahead. His lingering resentment prevented him from passing on, leaving him as an attendant spirit. He cannot physically interact with this world, but he can meddle with his owner's mind.

Seek advice from his wealth of experience and extraordinary skill!

※ However, no one except the owner can perceive the attendant spirit.

※ This skill was copied from hunter Markus Kallenberg.

+

I was at a loss for words.

—Hey, I asked where the old man went. Are you ignoring me? Tch. Hey, hey! I may look like this, but I was a big deal back in the day! One blink from me had most warriors trembling and crawling on their own, and you're treating me like I don't fucking exist!

Good heavens.

It seemed I'd copied the Sword Saint's attendant spirit.