Chapter 63
The arena was at the heart of the black market. The black market was a place in the lower district where administration and law enforcement had virtually no reach.
Above the black market, illegal extensions of buildings were tangled together, making it difficult for aerial vehicles to approach.
Kiing, Kkiiiiiik!
The Black-class Taxi we were in squeezed through the cramped buildings. The sound of scraping and bumping was constant. Regular taxis wouldn’t even think of approaching the black market from above. It was impossible to keep their vehicles intact if they did.
“Our whole house is gonna collapse! You bastards!”
Some people stuck their heads out of windows, shaking their fists. They were the residents of these illegal structures. No one cared about the cries of those who weren’t protected by the law.
Kwaduk!
The Black-class Taxi forced its way through the tight gaps, even breaking through obstacles. Parts of a building that had been in the way crumbled, revealing its interior. Of all things, it was a bathroom. A man in the middle of relieving himself stared at us in a daze.
Weeooong, weeooong.
As the Black-class Taxi descended closer to the ground, it blared a siren as if it had some legal authority. The crowd below cursed at the taxi.
Wooowoong!
With a short warning, the Black-class Taxi landed without hesitation, regardless of whether people were in its path. Some were too slow to move and got their legs caught underneath.
-Payment, please.
We couldn’t see the driver’s seat. Only a distorted voice came from behind a thick metal panel. It was a job that made plenty of enemies, so they thoroughly concealed their identity.
For the record, you couldn’t get out of a Black-class Taxi unless you paid. I had no idea what happened to those who didn’t.
I entered the amount from my credit chip into the terminal and inserted it into the slot. As soon as the payment was processed, the credit chip was ejected, its balance now wiped clean.
-Thank you for using our service.
The moment the payment was completed, the door unlocked.
Clack!
Gabriel and I immediately checked our weapons after stepping out. He loaded two heavy pistols and gripped one in each hand.
“Grace, you don’t need to fight. This is our business.”
I spoke to Grace, who had followed us.
“No, Diva specifically told me to assist you actively. Especially to protect Gabriel.”
Grace lifted the corners of her lips ever so slightly. Gabriel, who had an upcoming night with Diva, spat on the ground.
“…Damn it! I’d rather just get shot and die here.”
We turned to face the arena building.
It seemed that even the people of the black market knew something had happened in the arena. Murmurs of conversation spread around us.
“What’s going on? I saw Aleph’s guys go in there with guns earlier.”
“I don’t know. Maybe one of the arena’s beasts got loose.”
The crowd’s gaze shifted toward us. We stood at the entrance leading to the office.
Bang!
Gabriel kicked the door open and extended his gun inside. We had seen this hallway countless times before, yet now it felt strangely unfamiliar, shrouded in darkness. It looked like the power inside the arena had been cut.
“Should I go first?”
Gabriel asked.
“No, I’ll go. Your gunshot wound hasn’t even fully healed yet.”
“Wow, thanks for the concern.”
“Think nothing of it.”
I took the lead and stepped forward.
At the first corner, we found a corpse. It was a guard I had seen a few times before, so his face was familiar. His neck had been sliced halfway through, split wide open. The cut was so clean that blood was still spurting out in thin jets.
None of us were the type to be unsettled by a dead body. We were all people who lived side by side with death.
“So this is why the drug dealer died.”
I looked down at the ampoules scattered across the floor. I couldn’t immediately identify the substance, but… it was likely some kind of combat stimulant. There were more than just one or two empty ampoules.
‘Is Ken planning to survive just for today?’
Ken had deliberately been injecting himself with drugs, forcing his failing brain to keep running on borrowed time. If he kept this up, he wouldn’t just break—he would be utterly destroyed.
Squelch. Squelch.
Stepping through the blood pooling on the floor, we continued toward the office. The hallway reeked of blood. More than ten gang members were already dead. All of them had died from blade wounds.
The deeper we went, the cleaner the cuts became. The precision was almost admirable.
‘Was Ken always this skilled?’
He hadn’t even bothered to take the guns from the corpses. He had fought through the entire hallway using only a blade.
Even if he had taken a massive dose of combat stimulants, at best, it would have brought him back to his prime. But for a gang member from the lower district, his skill was far too refined. Unlike Grace, he had no extraordinary background as a former Imperial Guard cadet.
“This isn’t normal, Luka. We’d better be careful.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened. We didn’t rush. Judging by the situation, if Ken had truly intended to kill Aleph, we were already too late. Hurrying would only put us in danger.
‘He really tore through Aleph’s gang all on his own.’
At this level of combat ability, he was easily on par with a second-year cadet. A remarkable talent.
Kuaaaaaaaaah—!!
A scream echoed from the end of the hallway. We knew exactly who it belonged to.
Aleph was still alive. I immediately picked up speed, no longer coordinating my movements with Gabriel and Grace.
I left them behind and practically sprinted into Aleph’s office.
“Young Master, you’ve arrived.”
Ken Noma greeted me with a broad smile. And it wasn’t just his smile that was spread wide.
“Ghh… ugh… ughhh…”
I looked at Aleph, who was tied to a chair. It was quite the creative torture.
The skin on Aleph’s face had been peeled outward like a blooming flower, left dangling in strips. The execution was clean, like a butcher’s handiwork. Every fiber of muscle beneath his skin was exposed, glistening with the thick, honey-like blood oozing from between the strands.
Click.
Ken pulled out another ampoule and jabbed it into the nape of his neck. His eyes, once merely bloodshot, were now turning pitch-black.
“…You broke our agreement, Ken.”
“What agreement are you talking about? I’ve already severed ties with Gabriel’s gang. I don’t need their protection anymore. I came here to accomplish my own goal. There’s an old saying—‘A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even after ten years.’ Considering modern lifespans and our sense of time, those ten years should translate to about twenty or thirty in today’s terms.”
Ken spoke fluently. The severe cognitive impairment he had once suffered seemed like a lie.
‘No matter how much stimulant he’s overdosed on, this level of combat should be impossible…’
I shoved the doubt aside.
“Hey, Luka! We’re here too! What the hell, running off on your own like that?”
Gabriel and Grace were about to enter the office. I stretched out my hand to stop them.
“I’m taking Ken alive. You’ll just get in the way, so stand back.”
It wasn’t that I was ignoring them—it was simply the truth. More people meant more interference. It meant I’d have to process additional variables. I wanted to eliminate all unnecessary factors.
“I’ll get in the way? I don’t care how good you thi—ugh! You goddamn—”
Grace punched Gabriel in the stomach. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his old gunshot wound.
“I will protect Gabriel, Luka.”
Grace positioned herself in front of Gabriel, raising her shotgun. If I had three or four subordinates like her under my command, I’d have nothing more to wish for.
For the first time, I found myself envying Martina Diva.
“Hmm, I’m giving you this advice as thanks for getting me out, but you’d better give up on capturing me alive. I’m like a poison bug of a man.”
Ken jabbed another ampoule into his neck as he spoke. He picked up the decorative longsword hanging on the office wall and drew it.
Ka-ang!
So it wasn’t just for decoration. The blade was finely honed, and judging by the crisp ring of metal, its quality was excellent.
Kiiing.
I also drew my sword for the first time in a while. The blade was heavy, making the sound drag on.
A high-compression weighted weapon, named ‘Crucis.’ Its form: a sword.
This was Crucis’ debut.
* * *
Tok-tak.
Before the fight, Ken clicked his tongue. I didn’t know what that gesture meant.
I did what I always did—I expanded my senses. Aleph’s office wasn’t large. Even the furniture and trivial objects settled neatly into my mind. I could tell what was in here even with my eyes closed.
‘Capture alive.’
If I cut off his head, I wouldn’t get any answers. Even if he’d overdosed on stimulants, he wouldn’t die immediately, so I wanted to extract more information.
‘Ignore any furniture or obstacles in the sword’s path.’
Crucis was different from the swords I’d used so far. It was practically a blunt weapon compressed into the form of a blade. It would smash through anything in its way—so long as the user had the strength to wield it.
‘Sever Ken’s arms to disable him.’
I advanced slowly. The moment one of us began accelerating, the real fight would begin.
Logically, I had the upper hand with my ultra-high-performance imperial combat prosthetics. Ken’s prosthetics were mass-produced models. But I didn’t let my guard down.
I observed, thought, and drew insight from within—just as I would when facing an opponent stronger than myself.
Akies—the word meant insight.
Sreuk.
Ken moved with a weighty presence. He wasn’t rushing. He was watching me. Even with a heavy dose of combat stimulants, his composure was remarkable. That meant his mental fortitude was above average.
‘Initiative is mine.’
If a prosthetic’s performance is lacking, the user has no choice but to concede initiative and first strike, regardless of their skill. The only way to overcome the disparity in power and specs is to exploit an opening through counterattacks.
Kwaang!
I kicked the desk in my path. The steel desk, anchored to the floor, was torn free and sent flying toward Ken.
I blocked Ken’s line of sight with the desk. I leaped alongside it, pressing close as if stuck to its surface. My plan was to sever Ken’s arms along with the desk. With Crucis’ power, that wouldn’t be a problem.
Fwoosh!
But the tip of Ken’s sword pierced through the desk, aiming straight for my forehead. My eyes widened as I tilted my head back.
His blade passed right before my eyes. I swung my sword in return.
Kwa-ji-ji-jik!
The steel desk shredded apart like torn metal. Ken had already withdrawn his sword and sidestepped. His positioning was nearly prophetic. His movements were fluid, free of any wasted motion.
I knew that kind of movement well. Before he could counterattack, I kicked off the floor and ceiling in succession, retreating.
‘…Akies combat techniques! Damn it.’
I found the missing puzzle piece. The mystery unraveled.
The supposed benefactor, ‘Noel,’ who was suspected to be Kinuan—his real protégé wasn’t Tora. It was Ken Noma! Tora was just a puppet leader.
- The majority of the rebel officers were practically living on lethal doses of stimulants. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they had drugs instead of brain matter.
Kinuan’s words surfaced in my mind. If Ken Noma had learned Akies combat techniques, it explained his rapid recovery and resistance to lethal drug doses.
“So you were the real boss of the arena. Tora was just a front.”
I pointed my blade at him as I spoke. Ken’s smile faded for a brief moment.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. The past is irrelevant… Right now, I just want to indulge in my desires. Let me have an hour alone with Aleph, young master. That’ll be enough for me.”
Tilting my head, I glanced at Aleph, still bound to the chair.
“If Aleph agrees, I don’t see why not. What do you think, Aleph?”
“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!”
Even in his near-death state, Aleph desperately shook his head. The flayed skin on his face flapped, scattering blood in all directions.
“You heard him, right? Aleph says no.”
“Tsk, playing hard to get. We’ll have our fun together soon enough.”
Ken gave a chilling smile. A dark stain spread beneath Aleph’s pants as he lost control of his bowels.