Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Zhang Zidong’s weapon was the kind of large saber you could find anywhere in China. I remembered hearing that it had been personally bestowed on him by the Chairman, and that he treasured it dearly. In my past life, I’d torn that thing to shreds.

Watching him stroke the ornate blade—so well-maintained that you could feel the chill of its Force—he wore a satisfied smile, then began speaking fluent Korean.

What the hell, so you could speak it all along?

“Draw your weapon, novice.”

“This is my weapon.”

I raised both hands, and Zhang Zidong’s eyebrow twitched.

“I know your primary weapon is a sword.”

“What sword?”

“Everyone knows you’re Erasure.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“If you’ve got proof, bring it.”

“……”

“You’re just standing there insisting with no evidence.”

Somehow, everyone and their mother had become convinced I was Erasure.

…Scary bastards. They must figure it has to be me, since two Level 8s couldn’t possibly have appeared at the same time.

There was no proof anyway, so I flat-out denied it. So what are you going to do about it?

“If you’re not, then it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die regardless.”

“I do love it when we see eye to eye.”

He called it a spar, but he wasn’t even trying to hide his killing intent.

Good. We were thinking the exact same thing.

A spar where I absolutely won’t die, and my opponent absolutely will—now that’s a fun spar.

“#%^#@*”

Zhang Zidong spat out a curse, and light flashed along his saber as he came charging at me.

* * *

The moment Choi Junho and Zhang Zidong’s spar began, every nation’s contingent started moving.

The Chinese delegation formed up around their Premier, while the Villain Task Force moved toward the side where the Blue House staff were stationed. Since they had their own security detail, they kept a slight distance and waited. Then Jung Dahyun approached Berserker.

“Berserker, sir.”

“You moved seats at a good time.”

“It was under orders. But—did you know the two of them would fight?”

“I did. The reason a villain like me is here is to prepare for exactly this kind of situation.”

“Of course.”

Jung Dahyun’s expression turned complicated. She knew that Choi Junho’s hint had been a kindness.

Even so, she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. She knew—even to herself, it was excessive. Was it because she still wasn’t reliable enough to be trusted?

The conclusion was simple. It was because she was weak. She had to grow stronger faster, until she could be someone worth trusting.

Seeing that look on her face, Berserker spoke.

“Don’t overthink it. For now, burn this match into your eyes. This is the kind of duel between transcendents that other Hunters would kill to see.”

“Yes.”

“Watch, and listen. I’ll explain their intentions as we go.”

At the mention of a Level 8 transcendent’s commentary, Jung Dahyun perked up her ears.

That was when Zhang Zidong launched the first strike.

“The Chinese transcendent moves first. His intent is to seize the initiative by leveraging his weapon’s advantage.”

The saber shot out like a lightning flash, reaching Choi Junho’s face without leaving so much as an afterimage.

Watching it, she felt her blood run cold—one blink and it would have skewered his head.

In that instant, Choi Junho’s body blurred as he narrowly dodged the saber and reached out his hand. Zhang Zidong read the intent and recalled his blade, slicing through empty air. Having completely crushed Junho’s move, Zhang Zidong drove the saber back in a thrust. It was an attack that defied every law of force and struck at an unguarded opening. Yet Choi Junho sidestepped it with ease.

In the blink of an eye, the distance between them narrowed and widened again as more than a dozen clashes erupted.

“Against anyone but Choi Junho, that attack would have seized the initiative. But the Chinese transcendent’s intent doesn’t work on him. Even what looks like an advantage, he calmly shatters and closes in. So what should you do? If it were me, I’d add an element of surprise and probe for an opening—or accept the risk of injury and press in harder. No, I’d get my heart crushed doing that. Then I’d have to pull out another method, hmm!”

“……”

While Berserker was busy asking and answering his own questions, Jung Dahyun was absorbed in the duel between the two transcendents. Even she, who was close to Level 7, found their movements too fast and dazzling to follow properly with her eyes.

Pu-kang! Kwang! Kwa-gwang!

When Zhang Zidong’s saber blurred, countless fragments of Force exploded everywhere with deafening booms.

The sight of Choi Junho deflecting all of them was astonishing, and Zhang Zidong’s ability to keep the flow of attacks going was equally impressive.

The vague image she’d held of what a transcendent was began to take concrete shape as she watched.

‘So this is a fight between transcendents.’

Seeing it with her own eyes, she understood why they were called transcendents.

The framework of the Awakened world she’d known was crumbling to pieces.

If she had been the one facing either of them, what would have happened?

Even if she got lucky and blocked one or two attacks, her head would have flown off by the third.

She could catch a glimpse of why every nation desperately cultivated transcendents, and why transcendents were treated beyond imagination.

By then, Berserker seemed to have finished his self-Q&A and resumed his commentary.

“The Chinese transcendent is quite good. He knows the flow is tilting toward Choi Junho and is desperately trying to twist it back.”

“Isn’t Junho at a disadvantage?”

Berserker’s gaze turned to Jung Dahyun.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because the initiative of the attack seems to belong to Zhang Zidong.”

“Kekeke, is that how it looked? I suppose I haven’t earned enough of your trust.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She’d said it because whenever afterimages clashed and shockwaves erupted, Zhang Zidong was the one who looked like he held the initiative.

Berserker laughed heartily, then spoke.

“You can hold the initiative yourself, but you can also deliberately give it away. No—in this case, it’s more accurate to say he’s allowing it. A truly nasty disposition.”

“Why would he deliberately give it away?”

Berserker gestured with his chin at Zhang Zidong, who was pouring on the offense.

“If I had to sum that up in two words, it would be ‘gauging.’”

“Gauging?”

“What do you think Choi Junho’s greatest strength is?”

“Overwhelming power? His merciless forcefulness?”

“Those two could be called strengths as well. But what I see as his strength is something else. It’s his ability to annihilate a designated target with perfect precision, without a hair’s breadth of error.”

“Annihilation……”

The alias Erasure suddenly flickered through her mind—probably because the nuance was similar.

The only things Erasure and Choi Junho had in common were that they were Level 8 transcendents who appeared around the same time, that they’d gone to Ansan around the same time, and that both were cruel in their methods. Everything else was different.

“Choi Junho’s annihilation ability connects to what I called gauging. Right now, he’s assessing his opponent’s skill. Through that process, he probes and analyzes them. He even reads the opponent’s capacity to deploy variables, and the moment his assessment is complete, he moves.”

The smile on Berserker’s lips deepened.

“Just like now.”

Kwang!

The sound that just rang out was distinctly different from all the clashes before. Zhang Zidong recalled his deflected saber, but in that gap, Choi Junho had already slipped inside.

Lightning flickered faintly around his hand as it closed in at terrifying speed.

Zhang Zidong’s expression began to change. Where he’d been overwhelmed with ecstasy just moments ago, dominating Choi Junho, now anxiety was spreading.

“Anyone who’s faced Choi Junho knows the feeling. From start to finish, you’re being toyed with exactly as he intends. He drives his opponent into utter despair, then annihilates them. The Chinese transcendent’s fate is sealed. Will his neck snap, will his whole body be shattered, or will his heart be crushed like mine? He always kills his opponents in new ways. Whichever it is, I can’t wait—kekeke!”

“……”

From that moment, the flow began to tilt to one side.

* * *

‘This won’t do.’

Zhang Zidong felt a chill run down his spine. Choi Junho was stronger than he’d imagined.

He’d experienced Choi Junho’s power at the airport. He’d called him a novice transcendent, but the man was far more polished than expected.

Even so, he had never once considered the possibility of his own defeat. He was the greatest genius of the People’s Republic of China, and its strongest transcendent. The world didn’t know it yet, but he was waiting for the day he would announce to the world that he was the strongest.

The reason he’d held back at the airport was simply to display his strength on a grander stage and give the novice a wretched death.

And yet he was being pushed back?

By a transcendent from this tiny country?

Impossible.

Zhang Zidong clenched his teeth and squeezed out more Force. An immense volume of Force surged through the saber. Power that could shred even a monster in a single stroke swirled and extended from the blade.

Pu-kang!

And yet it was crumbling before Choi Junho like a sandcastle. What was the problem? His Force? His strength? His technique? The sword strikes he’d believed to be flawless were proving so powerless before Choi Junho that it was absurd.

He’d been turning a blind eye, but it was becoming undeniable. There was only one reason his desperate attacks were being blocked.

‘…I’m weaker than Choi Junho?’

The word defeat began to dominate his mind. He couldn’t accept that he was weaker than Choi Junho. The man was a brat who’d only just become a transcendent this year. Meanwhile, he himself had become one years ago and had far more combat experience.

This couldn’t be real. Had he been hit by some kind of mental attack? Turning away from the truth before his eyes, Zhang Zidong drew out every ounce of his power until he could feel his entire body straining under the load.

“Kraaaah!”

But what entered his view wasn’t a retreating Choi Junho—it was his own saber being seized.

Kwa-deuk!

The saber began to be torn apart in Choi Junho’s grip.

* * *

Zhang Zidong’s skill was within the range I’d expected.

He was about the same as when I’d faced him twenty years later.

Considering that even at nearly sixty he’d still maintained his form, it was highly likely that he’d simply settled for his current level.

Satisfied with just this much. If you want to get stronger, then become a villain or something. Pathetic.

His fighting style—constantly driving his opponent back with the fierce Force coating his saber—was identical twenty years before and after.

I’d played along a few more times to see if he was hiding something, but this seemed to be it.

“This is getting boring now.”

After the saber was torn away, Zhang Zidong began to be pushed back helplessly.

He managed to dodge a few attacks using the saber as a shield, but after two more, the saber was reduced to a dangling handle.

He’d said he treasured it more than his life after receiving it from the Chairman, but in the end, his own life must have been more precious.

“……”

Now unmistakable fear spread across his face. I was seeing the same look I’d seen in my past life. Beneath all that arrogance was a fragile little man. That look suited him perfectly.

“You’re not going to declare defeat or anything, are you? Hm? Only one of us is supposed to walk away alive, after all. Ah, and even if you did declare defeat, I have no intention of letting you live.”

“Ugh!”

I grabbed the right wrist of the man who’d been groaning and trying to back away.

He must have drained his Force to the limit, because this time he couldn’t block the Arc Mine.

Kwa-deuk!

“Kraaagh!”

There was some resistance, but his wrist snapped and he dropped the sword. When I reached for his left hand, he swung his fist in a desperate struggle.

What is this, a child throwing a tantrum?

It was too late anyway.

U-deuk!

His left hand snapped too, leaving both hands broken. From that point, he began to break apart piece by piece. Every time my Arc Mine-laden hand made contact, cracks and fissures spread through his bones. Having burned his Force to the limit from the very start just to keep up with me, he was suffering from depletion and couldn’t evade my hands.

Since I’d told him I wouldn’t accept a declaration of defeat, there was only one option left for him.

Flee.

Zhang Zidong was a Hunter with the Transfer gift, so when my assault slackened, he would make a desperate run for it.

He barely dodged my hand as I reached for his neck and retreated, his eyes flashing.

He must have seen an opening to escape.

“Ugh, uwaaaah!”

Zhang Zidong turned and began to put distance between us.

He must have realized that my Arc Mine only triggers on contact, so he was trying to get far enough away to use Transfer.

I knew he would do that.

He’d done the same in my past life.

So the moment he retreated, the broken saber he’d once treasured was in my hand. The blade was dangling, but perhaps because it was a famous sword, it was still radiating Force.

I mercilessly used the blade storm gift on the man trying to activate Transfer.

The blade storm was far faster than his fleeing speed.

The moment Zhang Zidong was caught in the blade storm, Transfer activated.

The space that had opened before me closed, and where it reopened was where the delegation’s students were seated. So there must have been an object over there he could Transfer to.

But what appeared through the Transfer wasn’t Zhang Zidong—it was a mass of red blood and flesh.

“……”

The Chinese delegation stared blankly at the sight of the blood and flesh—what had once been Zhang Zidong—pattering to the ground.

China’s youngest transcendent, the one responsible for the defense of the three Northeast provinces, had been torn to shreds and killed without even retaining a human form.

Shock and horror swept through the air.

As the sparring partner, I found it puzzling.

When you spar, sometimes you get torn to shreds and die, don’t you?

If you didn’t know that, you shouldn’t have asked for a spar.

Anyway, he’d gained a valuable experience this time, so I hoped he’d learned not to make the same mistake going forward.

But looking at the Chinese Premier’s face, it seemed he had no intention of accepting this quietly.

His thick cheeks trembled, and unable to contain his rage, he glared at me and shouted.

“Y-you bastards! Kill that man!”

Kill? Who, me?

That “surely not” became reality.

“Uwaaaah!”

At the Chinese Premier’s shout, the Hunters and students in the delegation alike came rushing at me.

Is this some new purge method?

I never show mercy to people who come at me trying to die.

I raised the Chairman’s saber and unleashed blade storm on them.

This gift—a mix of the unique gift Slash and Nuri’s Legend-rank blade storm—raised an immense storm of Force and tore every charging figure into chunks of blood and flesh.

“Hii, hiiiik!”

“Ugh, uwaaaah!”

I chased down the ones who tried to flee and killed them all too. The only ones left standing were the people who had stayed still from the beginning.

It wouldn’t be fair to the ones who went first if only these guys survived.

Since I’d already killed the rest, I headed toward the remaining ones to finish them off too.

Just then, the President’s voice rang out.

“That’s enough, that’s enough. Those people stayed still.”

Talk about oblivious. If he’d spoken thirty seconds later, I would’ve finished them all off.

I thought about pretending I hadn’t heard and swinging my blade once more, but then my eyes met the Premier’s. He quickly bowed his head and looked away, retreating—I clicked my tongue briefly at the sight.

Tsk.

“Yes. I only intended to deal with the ones who charged at me.”

I tossed my sword to the ground without regret and smiled to let them know they were safe.

At that, the delegation started shuddering even harder. A few of them even wet themselves.

I’d smiled to tell them I was letting them live so they could relax—was there really any need for that?