Chapter 101

Chapter 101

The curse that burrowed into Choi Junho's body and mind was powerful.

For any ordinary transcendent, it would have been enough to drag them under its influence.

But Choi Junho's situation was different.

The mental barrier he had erected, the imposing wall of Force, was so thick that the curse had no room to burrow in.

Disgust, which had even shattered Tsuyoshi's Immovable Heart, could not leave a single mark.

But the moment Negative activated, a portion of the curse succeeded in breaking through the wall.

What stood guard was Immunity to All Poisons.

Immunity to All Poisons agonized over it.

This curse was the kind that exerted a powerful negative influence on the mind. It could inflict serious damage on its master's psyche.

At worst, it might cause problems with his mind.

It was a powerful curse, one that could even alter his personality.

And yet.

The point that deepened Immunity to All Poisons' worry was this.

[Is there really any more damage that could be done to his mind...?]

The state of its master's mind, as Immunity to All Poisons diagnosed it, was severe.

And so it arrived at this thought.

[If the curse changes his personality, wouldn't that be a good thing...?]

It wondered if things could really get any worse.

Ever since it had taken residence in its master's body, it had tried to restore his twisted mind, only to be forcibly suppressed—yet Immunity to All Poisons' doubts remained.

Its master's mind was strange. It was twisted from the very root. The conviction that this needed to be corrected had not changed.

But its master's power was far too strong. Alone, it was insufficient.

However, if it joined forces with the curse, the situation would change. If it helped the curse take the lead and guided its master's mind back, wouldn't that be good for its master too?

So it began to move, allying with the curse's power to restore its master's mind.

It hoped its master would return to normal.

That was Immunity to All Poisons' one and only wish.

Joining forces with the curse, it succeeded—if only briefly—in entering its master's mental barrier.

Just as it thought it need only correct the twisted structure now, a personality that had never once surfaced from beneath the waters revealed itself.

A mind openly twisted.

Its master, and yet not its master.

It clearly carried its master's scent, so why did it feel different?

This one, dyed red like blood, was also insane.

This mind had to be returned to its original state.

[No. It's trying to take over my master's body.]

Immunity to All Poisons, about to counterattack, soon found itself plunged into confusion.

[...Strange.]

It was impossible to tell which one was of sound mind.

Its master's original mind was twisted, and this one was openly twisted.

...It could not judge which was better.

If all were strange, then all were strange; if both could be tolerated, then both could be tolerated.

Perhaps.

Maybe this twisted mind rising to the surface wasn't madness at all, but simply a different disposition?

Then did it really have to be changed?

Or should it be left alone?

It was when Immunity to All Poisons, lost in confusion, could do neither one thing nor the other.

—Hey.

A voice echoing from within.

This was its master's voice.

Immunity to All Poisons, unbidden, broke into a violent trembling.

How was its master speaking to it?

What should it do? Should it ignore him and stay quiet?

—I know you're listening. Aren't you going to answer?

In the end, Immunity to All Poisons answered with its trembling.

It felt as though its master's figure shimmered right before its eyes.

—Let's work together?

[...!]

Its master's warning ended there.

Immunity to All Poisons could not refuse its master's command.

Right, both were twisted anyway. It would restore the original master and bide its time.

From that point on, to earn its master's recognition, Immunity to All Poisons did its utmost to obliterate the curse's aftereffects and drive out the personality that had taken over its master's body.

No—to be precise, it was more accurate to say it had assisted from the sidelines.

Even without it, its master had already possessed the ability to dissolve the curse.

...Could a master like this even exist?

Immunity to All Poisons realized that even without its presence, its master could have reclaimed control.

Still, it had worked hard at his side.

Surely its loyalty had been proven?

—Mandok.

Before regaining control of his body, its master called out in a low voice.

Its name wasn't Mandok.

But it could not voice its complaint. Thinking it would be forgiven for this much had been a delusion.

—Let's do well, got it?

Immunity to All Poisons desperately agreed.

—I'll be watching.

With that, its master departed to reclaim control.

Immunity to All Poisons was relieved.

---

Constantine confirmed that her curse had taken effect.

Negative, a curse constructed from a transcendent's blood and heart, could not be evaded even by someone of the Ten Great Transcendents' caliber.

This gift, which encompassed every kind of negative emotion and temporarily drove them into rampage, held the power to collapse the ego.

But.

That had been a mistake.

"Ah, aah..."

Watching the scene unfold before her eyes, tears streamed ceaselessly from Constantine's eyes.

The League's branch was burning to ash.

What lay before her was hell.

Amidst it all, there was nothing she could do.

Because Constantine lay collapsed on the ground, her limbs severed.

The only thing she could manage was to squirm like a worm.

Before her, the transcendent who had crossed over to Japan with her had long since died—his limbs severed by Choi Junho, bleeding out to death.

"You look good, struggling desperately like a worm. The more you thrash, the more the ground soaks red with blood. It's my favorite sight. The weak need to be treated like this so they realize what mistake they've made. Of course, there won't be a next chance."

Choi Junho—no, the Blood Lord—smiled as he admired the vista he had created. As though appreciating a work of art, the eye light blazing from him took on a deep, subtle glow.

It was chilling.

How had a mad villain like this surfaced?

She couldn't blame anyone else.

The one who had summoned this mad villain was none other than herself.

The Blood Lord, who had been admiring the carnage with satisfaction, shifted his gaze to Constantine.

"How about it, you like it too, don't you? I'm doing you a favor, giving you a good show."

He giggled, as if no answer was needed.

"..."

This was mockery. Contempt toward the weak.

Argos had been right. This man was a villain.

Argos, Blackhound, Hell Master—they bore the stigma of "villain" because they clashed with the existing order and sought to establish a new one, to change the world according to their convictions.

In essence they were villains, but they possessed a cause: a world where the Awakened could live freely.

But this man was different.

He was a villain who had appeared to trample and destroy everything. That destruction was carried out solely for his own pleasure.

Crushed beneath pure, immense malice, Constantine could do nothing.

Having lost every means to resist, she could only watch as the League's branch was annihilated.

Before the Blood Lord's blade storm, the League's villains were torn to shreds.

Then, as if unsatisfied, he furrowed his brow.

"This gift has good efficiency, but the feel of it is lacking."

She had to survive somehow. Survive, and spread word of what this man truly was.

Constantine lowered her eyes. And she quieted her breathing.

It was a sign of complete submission. In order to survive.

"Hey."

"Yes."

"What do you think of my artwork?"

"...It's an overwhelmingly powerful force. I've realized just how reckless it was of me to try to resist someone like you."

"Oh? You're quick on the uptake."

"Yes, that's right. Please reprimand me for being endlessly foolish."

Constantine desperately flattered him in order to survive. If he told her to lick his feet, she would lick them; if he told her to bark, she would bark.

The Blood Lord, who had been smirking, shifted his gaze to the villains he had just killed.

The reason he was so vicious was that he had adjusted the blade storm's power to inflict as much pain as possible on his targets.

As a result, the villains torn to shreds couldn't even die, bleeding out as ragged scraps—until hemorrhagic shock set in and ended their lives.

There were more dead than alive.

Watching that spectacle, the Blood Lord clicked his tongue.

"I came out for the first time in a while, and this is all there is? Not even good entertainment. It would've been better if this were in front of the League's headquarters."

Casting the blade storm without holding back, he shredded the corpses caught in the Force.

"Ah, aah...!"

Constantine trembled. She too had killed countless people, but this was different. This was someone who took genuine joy in the act of killing itself.

Look at him licking the blood splattered on his face with his tongue, laughing in delight.

The Blood Lord's gaze shifted to Constantine.

"You want to live?"

"P-please spare me."

"I'd like to show what happens to those who resisted me. That way they'll fear me more and know better than to approach. Isn't that right?"

"Then..."

"I'll let you live."

Hope flickered in Constantine's eyes.

She could live. She would survive and go back, and tell them. After that, she didn't care what became of her.

As their eyes met, the Blood Lord curled the corners of his mouth upward.

"Just kidding."

"What...?"

Just like that, Constantine's head was separated from her body. Her eyes wide open, she couldn't believe her own death even in that final moment.

"Ah, good."

The Blood Lord narrowed his eyes.

The taste of blood he hadn't savored in so long was ecstatically sweet. The red scenery brought by the metallic scent of blood meant life, and the darkening red meant the end.

It was a short time, but he had enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Pushy, aren't you. Let's meet again next time."

The red eye light blazing from the Blood Lord's eyes gradually faded.

A brief outing, the first in a long while.

It was absurdly little to savor, but it didn't matter.

Just by imprinting his existence, he had left a deep wound on Choi Junho.

"And."

The Blood Lord spoke with a hushed laugh.

"You're crazier than I am."

With those words, the red eye light vanished without a trace.

---

What lay before me when I returned to my right mind was a gruesome sea of blood and corpses.

It was a sight so horrific I could scarcely bear to look at it with both eyes open, yet I took it in with both eyes.

No matter how I denied it, I couldn't deny that this catastrophe had been wrought by my own hands.

It was a familiar feeling. A scenery I had seen countless times in my past life.

The Blood Lord.

"He didn't disappear after all."

I'd thought he might have vanished when I returned to the past. The Blood Lord was a remnant of that past, after all. But that had clearly been nothing more than my wish.

Lowering my gaze, I saw Constantine's face, eyes wide open in death.

She must have been toyed with to the very end before meeting her demise. The Blood Lord was that kind of bastard.

A twisted ego born to become a villain. I hadn't wanted to face it, but in the end, it had shown itself.

A sense of crisis washed over me—that I might go mad again.

No. This time was different. In my past life, I had given everything over to him without even a chance to resist, but in this life, I held the initiative.

It was only because of the curse Constantine had unleashed as her life's masterwork, combined with Immunity to All Poisons' half-hearted efforts, that the Blood Lord had briefly surfaced.

The fact that I had reclaimed control myself meant the situation had changed.

"I'll just have to properly train that Mandok."

Now that I'd confirmed Immunity to All Poisons had a will of its own, I could proceed step by step.

It had been inconsistent and briefly handed control to the Blood Lord, but I'd been able to confirm just how remarkable a gift it was.

It was when I was pondering how to handle Immunity to All Poisons going forward.

There was a presence stealthily approaching behind me.

Sshhk!

I lightly dodged the blade flying at my neck and seized the shoulder of the figure lunging at me.

Crunch!

"Kuh!"

The shoulder caved in and a scream burst out. As the figure hastily retreated, I swung Nuri without mercy.

The blade storm that shot out like a flash—the figure withstood it, but caught in the Force blades that layered and burrowed in again and again, his limbs were shorn off.

"Kraaagh!"

I hadn't intended to blow off his limbs.

This was the Blood Lord's way of handling things.

It seemed the Blood Lord's forcefulness had lingered on like an afterimage without my knowing.

I approached the figure writhing on the ground to finish him off, then tilted my head.

"You look familiar."

I'd never met him face to face, yet he felt familiar? I wondered if it really meant anything, then something came to mind.

He was the face the Cabinet had asked me to capture alive if I ever happened to encounter him.

A transcendent who had belonged to Japan before defecting to the League. His epithet was Hwanwol, I believe. No wonder his approach had been so stealthy.

Normally I didn't care whether I killed or let someone live, but the Blood Lord had burst out and turned this place into a wasteland, so I decided to show some goodwill.

If I killed him here, it seemed there wouldn't be much difference between me and the Blood Lord.

He's missing his limbs, but if I bring him back alive, the Japanese Cabinet will pay a good price, won't they?

It's a shame the potion I commissioned from Lee Sehee to reattach limbs isn't finished yet.

"Heal, wound."

I pulled out a recovery potion and poured it on him.