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Chapter 22: Mission and Magpie (9)

On the building rooftop, it was just him and the two of us.


"Hey, Yu Ji-hyeon. Can you run right now?"


"Huh? Y-yeah!"


"Good. Head back to where we came in. Avoid the collapsed cars as much as possible—unless you want a dose of Oripathy."


"W-what about you?"


"Me? I’m going after that bastard."


This is our first mission. I can’t afford to fail.


"You think we’ll let him escape?! We’ve already taken enough losses!"


Suddenly, magnets flew at us—accelerating violently within fifteen meters to crash toward us!


"Whoa! Watch out!"


"Looks like his magnetism still holds some pull even beyond his primary range."


This is one annoying enemy...


"I’m going first. Cover me!"


The Seven Association will arrive soon. As intel specialists, they’ll know we’re from the National Sword, and that puts us in immediate danger.


"You rookie don’t know your place!"


"Only guys better than me get to call me a rookie, got it?"


He keeps calling me a rookie just to piss me off.


"Can you even wield a sword? Ha!"


Honestly, a one-on-one is still too much. The blade keeps getting yanked toward the magnets, preventing me from finding my posture. And those chunks of metal flying in could break bones at the very least. Above all, those Electric Arts—


"Ugh!"


"You can’t escape into the air!"


He sealed off my movement by unleashing Electric Arts into the ground. If I leap up, the magnets will strike; if I stay grounded, the damage stacks.


"Grrk!"


Sinclair’s sword, fueled by anger, slammed into a magnet, but his arm was struck instead.


"Tch. My turn!"


If I can buy a moment, Sinclair will recover. I need to stall.


I can’t use the sword right now. So?


"I’ll use my fists, you bastard!"


I threw the sword into the air; two magnets shot toward it instantly, and I rushed forward with my blood boiling.


Smack!


"Perfect hit!"


That crushing blow landed square on his jaw—some people really need to learn how to handle a punch.


Thud!


"Ack! Gah... what is this..."


What hit me? It wasn’t electricity. It didn’t sizzle—it felt like a bullet or a bolt embedding itself in my flesh.


"This is... ugh!"


"Heh heh... at my age, implants are essential, you know...!"


The tooth that flew out when I struck him—did he actually shoot that at me?


"Disgusting... I’m gonna die here!"


"You two annoy me to death!!!"


Yellow electricity coursed through the ground again—


"Aaaaah!!!"


I had nowhere to dodge and became a human electro-grill.


"Ji-hyeon!!!"


"You’re next, runt!"


"Aaaargh!!!!!! I won’t forgive you!"


That sword earlier—if it can be stopped by a single magnet, it's useless. What I need to worry about now is the kid lying on the ground.


She looks like a child, yet she grasped caster combat at a glance and stepped right into the fray.


I don’t know if she has loads of combat experience or is just a prodigy, but do you realize how much damage you’ve brought upon our operatives?


I wonder how to manipulate those pigs and sell them off—they’ve got talent, that’s for sure...


Now’s not the time to pick and choose. If I miss this tribute deadline, they’ll cut me open and roll me in a drum...


"…Shin…ah…"


"What are you moaning about? Begging to be spared?"


"Sa...ve...me..."


"Hah? Too bad!"


Press!


"Even if you beg for your life now, nobody can save you! Even if you’re crushed under my foot, your friend can’t do a thing!"


But is that so? Over the past three months of training, the one whose sword I’ve faced most was Sinclair, not Otis, Don Quixote, or Lee Sang. And the most terrifying thing about Sinclair is his counterattack.


That blade I handled easily at first became something entirely different when we clashed again; I wondered if it was even the same sword. That is Sinclair’s steel.


"You spastic, I told you it’s behind—ugh."


Thud!


"Ho... how!?"


Sinclair plunged his crimson blade into the small of my back.


"Nicely done, Sinclair."


"That was... way too dangerous."


"Was it? It’s only because you were here that I fought like this."


I’m gonna die. This electric tingle makes me feel like I’ve been struck by a million volts—too bad it’s a hyena instead of some rodent.


"How dare you... you rabble ruining my business!"


"Business, my ass. You talk about business while trading in people."


Is he insane? Trading in people. Sure, this isn’t Earth but some hellish Terra; child soldiers and trafficking exist, but there are still lines humans cannot cross.


"How dare you... how dare you!!!!"


"…Am I the only one feeling like this is insane?"


"Wait..! What do we do?!!"


Resorting to drugs in the middle of battle? Well, it’s more like a raw Originium chunk.


Arts manifest when the Originium in the user reacts. A staff stabilizes and amplifies the output. Those infected with Oripathy have tissues transforming into Originium, so their output surpasses ordinary casters.


That means his output is double what it was earlier. The Originium embedded in his arm resonates brilliantly as proof.


"It’s shaking... this is..."


"The building! The building is shaking!"


What the hell? Is he shaking the entire steel frame embedded in the building? This is dangerous! I have to stop it!


"Sinclair, get ready! I’m going in!!"


"Yeah!"


Yellow bolts of lightning shot out in all directions. From that ground flicker earlier to these rays of light, I fully understood that being struck would not be a graceful death.


"The blade won’t get through this! What should we do?"


The moment the sword touches him, the electricity will course straight through the body.


"…Should we leave it to the Association and bail?"


Our goal of killing him is already achieved. He won’t live long in this state; I can already see blood leaking from his mouth.


"Yeah. Let’s do that! It’s too dangerous! Aah!!!"


"Sinclair!!! Hey, you bastard!! Hey!!"


"Ugh... I’m okay... ah..."


Yeah, right. His head was grazed? Fortunately, there's no major wound, but he looks unable to move. This is bad. Escaping this disaster with Sinclair now is impossible.


"Alright. Let’s do it after all?"


"Wh... what are you... planning?"


The thing we always do. Fulfill our purpose of existence.


"We cut him down."


The building crumbles further, debris rising with the steel. I step on it to dodge the falling storm. A single lapse in focus means death; my breathing is the calmest it’s ever been—like breathing in sleep. That stable inhale envelops me as I close in.


Thwack!


Thip-thip!


Lightning needles jab at my skin, but I can’t stop. If I do, they'll tear out my entrails.


"Almost there—"


Rumble!


"Ah, shit!"


No way. The rubble I stepped on couldn't support my speed and gave way. This was unexpected.


"No...!!! Ji—"


Countless lightning bolts rain down; there’s no way to dodge. That is—


Death—


Death. The word filled my mind, and survival instinct awakened in my brain, showing every memory in slow motion to escape this situation—the so-called life review.


And my brain pulled out a third hand I didn’t know I had—or rather, one I wasn't conscious of, but had possessed from the start.


Whoosh!


"...?!"


What just happened? Why am I airborne? The place where I stood is now a charred mark. And I’m here, higher up, as if teleported.


Fwoooooosh—!!!


"...Wind?"


Gale-like winds battered me. This is no natural breeze. This is…


"My Arts… is it?"


Yes. This is an Art. I’d know it even without training. It’s my Art.


"Hahaha! This is badass!"


Soaring through the air. Is this what birds feel? Though I can’t fly freely, my aerial mobility is as varied as a second or third jump in a game.


"Still, it’s not much of an advantage…"


I’d like to slash out a wind wound like some anime move, but I’m not sprinting down Usain Bolt in my first strides.


"Should I just rush him?"


No… then I’m heading right into the Seven Association, aren’t I?


"Struggling over something this trivial? Typical failure material."


"Long time no see, you bastard. You never come when I call!"


"I don't know why I'd answer just because you call."


"So, what is it? Are you here to mock me?"


"That might be fun, but there's no way I'm losing to that guy using me, got it?"


"What the hell do you want me to do, you shit?"


"Watch your language. Do you know how old I am?"


"No idea, spastic. If you're not gonna help, I'll ram you with my torso."


"Ugh, tsk... Why the hell am I your vessel? Here, take it. It's something good, okay?"


Heat flares up from within. This bastard? Was he planning to burn me to death?


"This is... wow, this is fucking epic."


Fwoooosh!


My sword blazed—an intense, vivid blue.


"Then split apart!!!!!!"


The target was incinerated by the immense azure pillar of flame formed by my descending strike.


"Over there! Director! Right there!"


"Let’s go."


The Seven Association had also locked onto the column of flame.

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Ch. 22: Mission and Magpie (9)
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