Chapter 120 : Chapter 120

Chapter 120: Bounty Hunting (3)

I was dumbfounded.

Corpses were scattered throughout the corridor and bloodstains were splattered on the walls and ceiling.

Severed limbs and crushed heads, the remains of broken swords.

The smell of blood filled the air.

I understood why there were no guards.

Of course, they weren't there since they were all laid out here.

I racked my brain, thinking of possible scenarios.

A magical beast invasion or an infiltration by a rival organization.

Looking at the brutally crushed and broken surroundings, it could be seen as the work of a magical beast, but looking at the guards' wounds, it wasn't.

Body parts like arms, legs, and necks were cleanly severed, a result that couldn't be achieved without precise skill.

‘This is the work of a person and a single person at that.’

Then could it be the work of an expert sent by a rival organization?

If so, that expert was surely a master of immense skill.

Also, seeing as they showed not even an ounce of mercy to the humans who were hostile to them and crushed them all, there was a high probability they had a cruel and cold-hearted nature.

Like Ivan, who would first flare up with hatred and killing intent when facing a villain.

“Get ready. It seems the situation is not ordinary.”

“Yes.”

Whatever it was, our target was Egor the Butcher.

If we captured him alive and returned, we'd get 30 gold, and if we killed him, we'd get a third of that, 10 gold.

So, at the very least, we had to confirm his death and take back a token as proof.

Egor used a unique greatsword with a rectangular blade like a Chinese cleaver and in a case like this, that would be the token.

“H-help me.”

“Heek……!”

The deeper we went, the more survivors we saw.

They were VIPs, like nobles.

Having not a single thread on them, I wonder what they were doing in the room, they huddled together, trembling in a corner.

There were quite a few spaces for such VIPs.

It seemed to take up about half of the Pleasure Den and I tilted my head as I looked at the VIPs.

‘Is this not the work of a hostile force?’

If it were their doing, they would have surely killed all the VIPs here without leaving any behind.

Because from their perspective, there was nothing to be gained by leaving evidence.

As they say, the dead tell no tales.

They could even shift all the blame by pointing out the security flaws of the Pleasure Den, so no matter how I thought about it, I couldn't understand why they left survivors.

To solve the mystery, I approached a noble who seemed to be in a relatively better state.

“Excuse me. Pull yourself together. Who's doing this?”

“Hic! P-please save me! I am the first son of Viscount Belmon! If you save me, as a reward…….”

“Yes, yes. Please calm down. I am Gerard from the 888th class of Frey Academy. I will help you, so please tell me what happened, step by step.”

“A-Academy……?”

He rolled his eyes around before suddenly fixing them on me.

“An armor monster.”

“……Pardon?”

“An armor monster. That's all I know. That's all I saw.”

An armor monster?

‘Then is it a Living Armor?’

But that was an undead.

This eastern region was still untouched by the Beltus Cult's influence and there was no way the Death Council, which even the Academy couldn't handle, would suddenly skip over Icata and come all the way to the east.

It was then.

Kkeueuaaaaah──

My train of thought was instantly cut off by a desperate scream coming from inside.

When I came out of the corridor, Yuria called me with an urgent face.

“Senior!”

“I heard it!”

We ran deeper inside.

I could feel the faint sounds of battle gradually becoming clearer.

The sound of weapons clashing was infrequent.

Most of it was a mixture of screams and curses.

I instinctively activated [Detection] and then slowly slowed my pace.

“Senior?”

“Someone's coming this way.”

Judging by the approaching speed and the fact that a battle was still raging up ahead, it seemed to be a fugitive.

Yuria drew her sword, blocking my path, and asked.

“What should we do?”

“We have to catch him.”

There was a high probability that he would know more about this situation than the noble from before.

“……Huh?”

But there was no need to ask.

The one running madly toward us was none other than Egor, the one we were looking for.

Thump! Thump!

“Get out of the way! You bastards!”

The terrified man swung his huge Chinese cleaver wildly as soon as he ran in front of us.

But we weren't ones to be hit by such an obvious attack.

Even in a normal situation, his skill level was such that he couldn't even handle Yuria properly.

The sword he swung recklessly in fear was endlessly slow, and after lightly dodging it by ducking my head, I spun around and kicked the back of his knee.

Whack!

“Keok!”

Yuria’s sword was already positioned in front of the man who had knelt down.

“If you don’t want to die, don’t move.”

“Who, who are you…….”

I took off my mask and said,

“We are from Frey Academy. It would be wise to follow us quietly without resisting.”

It was then that life bloomed in his eyes, which had been stained with fear.

“F-Frey Academy!? Really? That's great!”

“……What?”

“That’s great! Hurry! Take me away! Quickly!”

He threw his sword on the ground and quickly held out both hands.

“What are you doing! Tie me up already! Huh?”

At that absurd reaction, we looked at each other for a moment with baffled expressions.

***

Egor the Butcher was impotent.

To be precise, he had one, but it didn't work.

A pitiful and sad situation.

When he found out at a crucial moment before the grand event, he fell into despair and resented the world.

“Uwaaaaah! I…… I!”

Was it because of that?

His desires gradually built up, and they intertwined with resentment toward God, helplessness, and anger toward the world, transforming into immense violence.

And so, Egor became a murderer.

The act of tickling, stabbing, pulling, slicing, and cutting.

When something beautiful was slowly being broken by his hands, he would be engulfed in an indescribable pleasure.

So Egor missed that sensation.

The pleasant feeling of plucking hair strand by strand, the pop pop sound it made.

Or the single, beautiful drop of blood that seeped out when he pierced the skin with a sharp needle, like a painting.

Or the satisfying feel at his fingertips when he cut through bone.

Or the reaction, like a live fish, that flapped every time pain was felt.

The tremors and pleasure that came when the fresh and diverse sensations provided by sight, touch and hearing simultaneously pierced his spine and rushed to his brain, exploding all at once, were an unbearable addiction.

So he crossed a line he shouldn't have, and eventually became a wanted man and a fugitive.

He was able to save his life thanks to Kazan, the boss of the Pleasure Den, whom he met by chance.

Kazan took villains like himself under his wing and used them to guard and manage the large Pleasure Den's territory or to handle all sorts of dirty work.

Egor was no different, but he didn't care much.

He was satisfied as long as they provided him a place to hide and occasionally supplied him with ingredients to vent his desires.

The ingredients were, of course, cleanly washed so as not to cause any trouble.

In the end, this was a den of trash where everyone deserved to die.

Was it because of that?

God's judgment suddenly came upon them.

Yes.

That was the harsh punishment and retribution sent by God.

At first, everyone snickered and laughed.

Because his appearance was ridiculous.

“What’s that?”

“Crazy bastard. What era are we in that he’s wrapped himself in armor. Hey! You don’t have a mask? What are you doing coming in here wearing something like that?”

“How did he get in here?”

“The guys at the entrance must be slacking off somewhere again.”

He was covered from head to toe in full plate armor.

So he looked very clumsy, and the clanking sound he made with every step caused another round of laughter.

Among them were Kazan, and of course, Egor.

Everyone thought he was an idiot.

An idiot who misunderstood that he had to wear a mask and rummaged through his home's storage to pull out full plate armor.

Otherwise, why would he have come all this way wearing such plate armor, which had long become a relic of a bygone era?

And alone, at that.

──That thought reached a turning point with someone's mumble.

“But why is that bastard’s fist so red……?”

Only then did everyone notice the blood-stained gauntlet.

At the same time, the sound of a sharp wind was heard, and a sword was embedded in the crown of the guard who had just mumbled.

Whack!

…Thud.

Everyone's gaze turned to him.

And then back to the man in armor.

By then, the laughter had disappeared from their faces.

They glared at him with eyes gleaming with hostility and killing intent.

“Th-this crazy son of a bitch!”

“Kill him!”

And so the battle began.

Egor watched the scene of the massacre, his body just trembling.

‘A m-monster…….’

The moment anything touched his armor, be it a sword, an axe, or a torso, it was shattered, crushed, and smashed.

He snatched a sword with one hand, plunged it into a guard's neck, and then swung his fist, crushing the face of another guard next to him.

Then he lowered his posture and took the body of another guard who was ambushing him from behind with his shoulder.

Pak! Clang! Kkwaang! Thump!

His entire body was a weapon and a shield.

The quick-witted Egor sensed the Pleasure Den's defeat in less than five seconds and decided to flee.

'Now is the chance while the guards are fighting.'

Would he chase after him?

The target must be Kazan, the boss of the Pleasure Den.

Thinking that, Egor, who was slowly backing away, ran with all his might without looking back the moment the man in armor's gaze fell on him.

'You son of a bitch! I was the target!?'

And so he ran with all his might toward the main gate, but his luck was terrible.

He happened to run into the cadets from the Academy who had come to catch him.

Still, the fortunate thing was that the Academy had something called procedures.

They wouldn't necessarily kill someone unless they were of the Slaughter grade, and they wouldn't use unnecessary force as long as you didn't resist.

At least they weren't as savage as the monster he had just faced.

And that was enough.

“Quickly!”

So Egor immediately chose to surrender and urged the cadets on.

It was closer to a plea than an urge.

“Quickly, take me to the Academy……”

At the sound that suddenly echoed through the corridor, Egor couldn't finish his sentence and stared at the spot with trembling eyes.

Clank.

Clank.

The grim reaper in armor was there.

“……Ah.”

Egor lamented.

I can't die here.

Whether they knew Egor's desperate heart or not, these foolish cadets were still taking their time.

They were even just standing there while looking at the man in armor, whose whole body was stained with the guards' blood.

“What are you doing, you idiots. Get a grip! Aren't you going to take me!?”

“Shut up.”

“What did you say, you bastard? What did you just……”

“I said shut up. Before I kill you.”

Egor blinked and looked at the cadet with a scar on his eye, Gerard.

“You think I’m lying?”

That was the final blow.

Egor lowered his gaze like a coward, avoiding Gerard's eyes.

He felt it instinctively.

It wasn't a lie.

Egor, who had committed many murders, was accustomed to killing intent, so he could instinctively feel the killing intent stored within Gerard.

“Hey. Who are you?”

And Gerard turned his head to look at the man in armor.

His entire body was covered in a hard plate, but the parts where his eyes and mouth were located were open.

Although that only revealed the shape of his eyes, the color of his pupils, and his gaze.

Still, as he met those eyes, Gerard felt an inexplicable sense of déjá vu.

‘That gaze looks familiar…….’

Gerard's thoughts were cut short by an axe flying at him.

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.