Chapter 56

Chapter 56

The Chinese delegation, Zhang Zidong included, followed the same schedule as the US delegation.

After an awkward, tense banquet, a summit was held between the President and the Chinese Premier.

Meanwhile, I’d been summoned by Cheon Myeongguk and was being showered with puzzling praise.

“You did well not to finish him there.”

“……”

I never thought I’d live to see the day I got praised for not killing someone on the spot.

Except I hadn’t held back—the bastard had dodged. If he’d come at me one more time, he’d be dead.

Still, Cheon Myeongguk was so visibly pleased that I decided to play along.

“He’s a dead man anyway. All I did was extend his life a little.”

“I didn’t expect those words to sound so reassuring.”

“Because he’s a dead man.”

“What was your first impression of him?”

“A bastard who deserves to die? Looked like he’d be just ripe for the killing the moment he picked the wrong opponent.”

“Correct. Zhang Zidong is an extremely arrogant man, and a Sinocentric who has made derogatory remarks about Korea.”

“That pisses me off.”

My country is mine to insult. When a foreigner does it, it pisses me off.

That’s one more reason to kill him. Not that I needed a reason—I was going to kill him anyway.

Cheon Myeongguk got to the point.

“But are you certain Zhang Zidong used a spatial movement-type gift?”

“It’s definitely spatial movement-type.”

Cheon Myeongguk’s expression turned serious.

“…Spatial movement-type gifts are incredibly difficult to deal with. Killing someone who has one is even harder. It could prove difficult to eliminate him. Perhaps it would be better to focus on wounding him instead.”

“Director.”

“Yes.”

“There’s one thing you need to memorize. Killing a person is far easier for me than saving one.”

“……”

“It doesn’t matter if his gift is spatial movement-type. If Zhang Zidong requests a spar without knowing his place, I’ll kill him.”

Cheon Myeongguk’s mouth shut.

“Understood. I never meant to underestimate you, Transcendent Choi Junho.”

“I know.”

After the summit between the President and the Chinese Premier, the next item was the briefing on Nuri’s hunting process.

And that was when Zhang Zidong began adding reasons for me to kill him.

*

The explanation of Nuri’s hunting process was the same as it had been for the US. But partway through, Zhang Zidong raised his hand and cut in, and the atmosphere began to freeze over fast.

“What I want to know isn’t some cookie-cutter hunting process.”

“……”

“The things hidden behind this process—tell me those. What secret technique, what gift was at work?”

Zhang Zidong’s gaze turned to me. Do me a favor and drop the bloodlust in your eyes. It’s making me want to twist your neck right here.

“If you don’t want to believe it, feel free to leave.”

“Did you just say that to me?”

“When someone extends you goodwill, you should bow your head and show some gratitude. Where’d you pick up those manners? Did your mother teach you that?”

“…You must want to die.”

“Then come at me. And don’t use your gift to tuck tail and run again.”

“You son of a—”

The atmosphere chilled in an instant. Zhang Zidong glared at me with a rigid face, radiating killing intent.

Not that he’d dare do anything with the Premier watching right beside him.

I, on the other hand, could snap your neck right now without giving a damn about the President watching.

That’s the difference between you and me.

I waited calmly to see what he’d do.

It was the Chinese Premier who stopped Zhang Zidong as he shifted in his seat. The Premier tapped the table with a finger, and Zhang Zidong leaned in toward him. After hearing the whispered words, he swallowed his anger and sat back down.

Spineless bastard.

I had no idea why the President was looking at that scene with something like envy.

“Continue the briefing.”

The briefing on Nuri resumed. But Zhang Zidong’s expression stayed sour throughout, and in the end it finished in an awkward atmosphere.

What a shame. I was hoping he’d lunge so I could kill him.

Zhang Zidong, who’d been glaring at me until the very end, left with a face like a cold winter wind, and Cheon Myeongguk approached me looking dumbfounded.

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

“He’s a dead man anyway, so why bother with manners? I plan to piss him off enough to make the odds of him requesting a spar a hundred percent.”

“Haha.”

“Still, seeing him hold back, it looks like he’s planning to create an opening at the exchange match.”

“That’s our assessment as well. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you must be careful.”

“Of course. And how did that request of mine go?”

At my words, Cheon Myeongguk heaved a sigh he’d been holding in.

“…He’s safely entered Seoul, I’m told.”

“Good.”

“Even so, I’m a little uneasy.”

“It’s fine. He’s a lunatic on the inside, but on the outside he’s perfectly fine.”

“It’s the inside that worries me.”

“I’ll talk some sense into him. Don’t worry.”

What I’d asked Cheon Myeongguk to do was bring Berserker to Seoul.

*

I’d called Berserker in because the President had said he wanted to meet him at some point.

I’d been against the idea of seeing a lunatic, but the President’s stubbornness was considerable too. Since I was going to eliminate Zhang Zidong anyway, I brought him to Seoul to serve as security as well.

When I saw him, he was wearing a safari hat, sunglasses, and a mask, breathing in the air with gusto.

“Seoul’s air is good.”

“How long has it been since you were here?”

“Let’s see. I haven’t been able to set foot here since I became a villain, so… fifteen years.”

“You’ve lived as a villain a good long while.”

“I have no regrets. Every moment since becoming a villain has been thrilling. These days especially.”

“Let’s not.”

He’s the only one who’d say being a villain is great. I feel like I’m dying of annoyance. At my reaction, Berserker changed the subject.

“So it’s true the President wants to see me?”

“Yeah, he says he wants to express his thanks for cooperating a few times.”

“He’s an unusual one.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“……”

“What?”

I didn’t like the look in his eyes as he stared at me. He adjusted his sunglasses. Was it to hide his insolent gaze?

He’s gotten better at not picking fights. Sharp-eyed bastard, as always.

“A personal greeting from none other than the President—I suppose I’ll accept. Thanks to Head Breaker, I’m experiencing all sorts of things.”

“Listen on the way. There’s work I need you to do.”

On the way to the Blue House, I explained to Berserker what he’d be doing going forward.

*

At the Blue House, Berserker exchanged greetings with Cheon Myeongguk and shared a meal with the President.

The entire process was kept strictly confidential. As far as the world was concerned, Berserker was still a heinous villain. Until that perception could be improved, Berserker’s existence would not be publicly announced.

“The world’s gotten so much better. I even get to hear a word of thanks from the President.”

“You like it?”

“Of course I do. This beats being chased around like before.”

“Then why not move into the city for good?”

“I don’t want that.”

“Why?”

“I like being free. If I became a citizen, all sorts of restraints would try to tie me down. And if I pushed back against them, there’d be conflict again.”

“True.”

This era doesn’t let you have everything. Honestly, I’d like to live as freely as Berserker does, but I’m holding back an enormous amount.

Seeing it this way, Berserker’s living the ideal life.

Being able to live without holding back—that’s something I envy deeply.

“Can you kill the Chinese transcendent?”

“His escape technique is annoying, but it won’t be difficult.”

“If anyone else said that, I’d call them a lunatic, but coming from you, I believe it. This should be fun.”

“Stay near the President. If things go sideways, the others might start running wild.”

“Admission fee, is it.”

“Would I give you a good show for free?”

Berserker would guard the President from a suitable distance and prepare for any contingency. Zhang Zidong’s people might run wild too, after all.

It was a contingency in the truest sense.

Honestly, if they run wild, all the better. I’ll just kill them all on the spot.

“Have you opened Immunity to All Poisons?”

“…Not yet.”

“Really? You’re not lying to me after opening it?”

“I’m not.”

I stared at him intently, but Berserker’s expression didn’t change.

Guess it’s true. What a shame.

“Is it hard to open because Immunity to All Poisons is a high-level gift?”

“Maybe.”

“Seems like it’d need a few conditions.”

Even if I wanted to attempt copying Immunity to All Poisons, it was only possible if he opened the gift first. A legend-grade gift, after all. No wonder it’s not easy to open. I racked my brain over how to get him to open it, but no clear method came to mind.

I’d love to learn a way to force it open, too.

Should I run some experiments?

“…Don’t look at me like that. I can see you imagining something weird.”

“What? It’s not weird. I’m telling you it’s not.”

No matter what I said, Berserker’s guard didn’t come down.

I was just thinking about how to copy it. Would it be so bad to take a little peek at his chest? But with his guard this high, saying anything more would just make him run, so I’d have to bring it up next time.

Meanwhile, we arrived at the hotel where he’d be staying. A five-star hotel.

“A hotel, after so long.”

“Didn’t you say camping was good too?”

“That’s nothing compared to the softness of a hotel.”

“Is that so?”

“From now on, never compare camping and hotels.”

Having said that, he strode into the hotel.

And then the day of the exchange match arrived.

*

Cheon Myeongguk wanted to invite as many Hunters as possible to prevent the Chinese delegation from acting out in the event of an emergency during my duel with Zhang Zidong.

There was some back-and-forth during the process, and they compromised on a reasonable number.

The ones selected for this were Jung Dahyun and the members of the Villain Task Force.

My influence played a part in that.

My duel with Zhang Zidong would be a Level 8 clash, and just watching it could yield no small amount of insight. It was only natural to look after people I knew.

I arrived first with Berserker and spotted Jung Dahyun approaching. She wore a loose white shirt and black dress pants.

Jung Dahyun gave me a nod, then greeted Berserker.

“Hello, Berserker.”

“How did you recognize me?”

“I could feel your presence. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You felt my presence? Oh?”

I nodded along as Berserker’s eyes sparkled. Through her wealth of real combat experience, her senses were steadily expanding. It was a sign she was stepping into the realm of Level 7.

“Let’s set a date soon. With a bit more training, you’ll be able to rise to Level 7.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“I’ll just think of it as picking up a new hobby. People’s eyes are gathering, so I’ll be on my way.”

Berserker headed to a spot at a suitable distance from the President.

Jung Dahyun looked around, then fixed her gaze on the Chinese delegation and spoke.

“Today’s exchange match… there’s something tense in the air.”

“From their side, they must have to win no matter what.”

The Chinese prospective Awakened who’d come for the exchange match had a resolve on a different order of magnitude from the American side. Some of them even looked grim.

Lose, and you get dragged off to the coal mines, or worse.

“How do you see it, oppa?”

“They’re quite high-level over there, but not at the level of the US.”

“Still, I can see it……”

“I’d say fifty-fifty.”

“You rate them highly.”

“Because I taught them.”

And they would have grown further through the exchange match with the US.

Having experienced victory against a stronger opponent is an experience money can’t buy. And the sense of accomplishment from succeeding serves as vital nourishment during a period of rapid growth.

“And today, there’ll be something fun to watch.”

“Something to watch?”

“If you sense the mood turning strange, head near Berserker. He’s a lunatic, but his skill is the real deal.”

“…Okay.”

Perhaps she assumed I wouldn’t say more, because Jung Dahyun didn’t ask.

As preparations for the exchange match proceeded in that charged atmosphere, Zhang Zidong entered late, looked around, and walked over to us.

Zhang Zidong’s gaze fixed on Jung Dahyun.

“Oh? Pretty.”

“……”

“Ever think about coming to China? You seem like a fairly high-level Awakened—I could raise you up.”

“……”

“Is it because of the half-baked brat next to you? He’ll be dead in a bit, so we can talk again then.”

Zhang Zidong muttered to himself and walked off.

I’m sure he said more than a hundred percent strange things.

But looking at Jung Dahyun, her expression seemed unbothered.

“You’re not upset?”

“Judging by how sinister his eyes were, I think he was complimenting me.”

“You don’t know Chinese?”

“No, I don’t.”

So he’d been babbling to himself the whole time. That might have been his last words.

After a few simple formalities, the exchange match proper began.

Overall, China had the stronger lineup, but the matches were close.

Both Korea and China’s students gave the duels their all.

We lost the first and second matches narrowly, and the third brought China’s first defeat.

The atmosphere froze over fast when a Chinese student stood before Zhang Zidong.

Whap!

With a sharp crack, the Chinese student who’d been slapped across the face crumpled. Though it must have come with tremendous pain, he got right back up and stood at attention.

“You trash! Your skill was better, and you still couldn’t win?”

“……”

The student silently endured the torrent of abuse pouring from Zhang Zidong. Meanwhile, the fourth match began, and the Chinese student went in with gritted teeth. Even so, a loser emerged, and each time Zhang Zidong slapped him and berated him.

Watching it, I clicked my tongue.

Was he trying to inflict pain, or to discipline?

From where I stood, it was neither.

If you’re going to punish, break a leg or two. If you’re going to discipline, carve into him why he lost. Honestly, no brains at all.

“Even so, doing that in front of everyone is a bit……”

Jung Dahyun has changed a lot too.

She used to feel sorry for students being punished like that.

It’s a good change. Pity doesn’t raise anyone’s skill.

It was around the time the exchange match was entering its final stretch. Yang Juhyeok, who should have been preparing for his duel, came up to me.

“As expected of you, Professor—you’ve got an incredible beauty next to you.”

The brat alternates his gaze between me and Jung Dahyun, impressed. This kid’s talent for earning a beating is outstanding.

“Why are you here?”

“They say the guy I’m up against is their ace.”

“So?”

“If I win, would you grant me one wish?”

“Stop talking nonsense and get lost.”

Should I just smack him around a few times and make him forfeit?

“Come on, don’t be like that. The guy I’m up against is a Politburo Standing Committee member’s son, apparently? They say his skill is on a whole different level too. To beat someone like that, I need some motivation, don’t I?”

“I don’t care if you lose.”

I don't care if he dies, either. Did he really think I'd spare a student? He's not even my student.

This one's just as crazy.

Jung Dahyun, who'd been watching from the side, slipped in.

"Transcendent Choi Junho, instead of that, why not hear what he wants?"

Honestly, she's too soft-hearted. If she knew what Yang Juhyeok pulled at the Academy, she'd probably be the first to slap him around.

"Keep spouting nonsense and it's not the Standing Committee member's son you'll be up against—it's me."

"Huh? But that's exactly what I wanted?"

"What?"

"If I win, will you give me another instructional spar?"

"You?"

"With one hand only, though."

Did this kid eat something wrong? He wants to spar with me again after getting beaten half to death by me? Did a few hits knock his brain loose?

Well, if he's asking to get beaten, I can't refuse.

As a sign of acceptance, I gave him some advice about his opponent.

"Your opponent—his bloodlust is thicker than his skill. He's probably been lording it over people weaker than him. Crush him from the start."

"Yes sir!"

He went off grinning like an idiot. Has his taste really changed that much?

"Seeing a friend work that hard is nice to watch, isn't it?"

Jung Dahyun was watching it with delight again.

*

Zhang Zidong sighed inwardly.

The Standing Committee member's son had lost. Even if every student here lost, that boy should have won. Since he lost the duel, punishment was in order. But Zhang Zidong couldn't touch the Standing Committee member's son.

He could feel the students sneaking glances at him. He could guess what they were thinking, and irritation welled up. Why had he lost after putting on such airs?

Feeling his dignity take a hit, Zhang Zidong caught the Premier's eye. Seeing the small nod, he stepped forward. He needed somewhere to vent this anger.

"Ending the festivities here would be a shame—how about a spar between the two nations' transcendents?"

At the sudden appearance, the bewildered crowd's faces filled with surprise.

The atmosphere, which had been loosening, pulled taut again.

Zhang Zidong looked at Choi Junho.

"If you're scared, you're welcome to run."

But even Zhang Zidong knew. The man would never back down.

A fool who doesn't know his place.

Using his gift at their first meeting had been pure mistake. This time, he would kill him for certain.

After taking in the infuriating man's face, he fixed his gaze on the woman standing beside him. A beautiful woman. Perfect—kill the man and take her as a trophy. She wouldn't be able to resist falling for his strength.

Zhang Zidong waited leisurely for his opponent's answer.

After a brief stir, the President could be seen listening to the people around him with a serious expression, then nodding.

The match was set.

A short while later, Choi Junho was seen walking into the sparring grounds.

"Is this how people commit suicide these days?"

"You die today."

"I don't know Chinese, but I feel like I know what you said. Why do the lines of dead men always sound the same? Whatever."

Choi Junho's smile carried bloodlust.

"Just die."