SSS-Class Suicide Hunter-Novel

1.

I was never meant for the orthodox faction.

2.

-…….

On the 61st day of secluded training.

Venomous Snake stared blankly, his mouth agape.

-This isn’t right…

A droplet of water fell from the cave ceiling.

I remembered hearing Death King jokingly saying he fasted for several days as part of his training. I took those words seriously and embarked on a 60-day fasting regimen, but as the days passed, it wasn’t just my stomach that felt emptier; my brain seemed to empty too. I felt more and more foolish.

-No, that can’t be it. I can’t even imagine Death King seriously undertaking fasting as a training method… This kind of training seems more like a waste of time, life, and brain cells than a way to beat him.

A revelation.

It was the moment of enlightenment.

-Damn it!

That day, Venomous Snake ended his 60-day fasting training and descended to the Noble Race village, where he indulged in a feast. Pork feet. Fried dishes. Noodles. The table of the Noble Race was bountiful with dishes introduced by Venomous Snake. After about five days, completing meals worth several dozen days, Venomous Snake sat in the cave, despairing like a dieter who couldn’t overcome the yo-yo effect.

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Sixty days gone to waste.

It’s a depressing thought, but fortunately or unfortunately, Venomous Snake had a lot of time left.

A lot.

-…….

At least 60 years.

60 years.

Just barely.

-How should I… Damn, how do I…

The 60 days of fasting training left him with a habit of talking to himself.

Venomous Snake groaned, looking at the cave wall, imagining a scene where words of absolute martial arts wisdom would be inscribed, but such fantasies didn’t come true.

Venomous Snake was not the protagonist.

-…….

Perhaps.

It wasn’t Death King who should have joined the Demonic Cult, but himself.

-…Yes. It was all twisted from the start.

Remembering Death King’s bright smile, Venomous Snake smirked.

-No matter how you look at it, he suits the orthodox faction. Not me… I can reluctantly accept striving for a better world, but saving the people of the tower? That’s totally against my nature. I just enjoy the thrill…

Venomous Snake picked up a stone and threw it at the cave wall.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

-Right.

Four days.

Four days of doing nothing, thinking nothing, changing nothing, a time of nothingness, passed outside at the pace of a clock’s hour hand. Time couldn’t be measured inside the cave, only the pockmarked scars on the wall – the marks of the stones thrown by Venomous Snake – indicated the passage of time.

-I was never meant for the orthodox faction from the start.

Thud.

-I chose to follow Namgung Un, not because I was impressed by his martial arts, but just to spend some time learning… And I accompanied Death King to make the two old elder’s journey more comfortable… That was fine in its own way.

Thud.

-But it was all quite casual compared to him.

Thud.

-…….

Thud.

-I lived casually.

Thud.

-Wow, did I really just live my life casually? I thought I was living earnestly. Did I just drift here without making any decisive moves? Shit. Did I casually reach the 6th rank of hunters and become the master of Chen Mu-mun because the world was so easy? Am I a genius? What would have happened if I hadn’t lived casually? The tower would have probably collapsed.

Thud.

-Yeah. I could have brought down the tower.

Thud.

-Being 6th in the ranking doesn’t mean my achievements will be engraved anywhere. Will they be mentioned after I die? At best for 3 years, or 6 years if I try hard.

After 6 years, my name or alias will all be illusions.

Thud.

– Even as the master of Chen Mu-mun, it’s only significant within the tower. If placed in the center of a truly formidable martial world, it would be fortunate to be considered even a medium-sized faction. I gathered everyone not to recklessly swing swords on the streets, but to train themselves with that energy instead…

Thud.

– I’ve lived too casually.

Thud.

– Damn it. Go to hell. Everyone just die.

Thud.

-…….

Thud.

On the 260th day of secluded training.

The cave wall facing Venomous Snake, where he had been meditating, was devastated by the stones he had thrown. It was cratered and pockmarked as if bombed. He had thrown those stones merely to organize his thoughts, or rather to expel them, chiseling the rock in the process.

Who am I?

How did I end up here?

What did I miss along the way?

What have I managed to hold onto?

And what were those things, really?

-…….

260 days.

That was how much time Venomous Snake needed to consolidate his life.

He used the hour hand as the warp and the minute hand as the weft, creating a sieve of time. Through this sieve, he shook out all the useless things – random thoughts, stresses, crumbs of thoughts and emotions, the fat and excess of life. When they didn’t shake off easily, he threw stones to shatter them completely.

-…….

After shaking them off, only a central question remained.

– To defeat Kim Gong-ja.

Merely with a sword?

No.

It was about overcoming the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art, the sword imbued with the cries of the common people.

Kim Gong-ja might modestly call himself a minor sect leader and always talk about his master with bright eyes – perhaps even twinkling eyes – but Venomous Snake saw it differently. He knew something that perhaps even Kim Gong-ja himself didn’t realize.

– Defeating Kim Gong-ja doesn’t just mean overcoming the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.

Long ago.

The nameless first Death King roamed the world and created the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art. He heard the endless death, screams, and groans of the world.

In a world where people live like this, how could the swords they make and wield be anything special? Swords detached from the world, no matter how nobly praised, can only cut illusions, futilities, and fallacies.

If a sword doesn’t cut reality, it’s just a decoration.

To cut the world, the sword must first contain the world. And nowadays, the world consists only of screams, groans, and blood. Therefore, the sword of the Infernal Heavens must inevitably scream, groan, and spill blood.

-…….

Kim Gong-ja.

He spread that Infernal Heavens to the entire Dokkaebi Race.

He infected them.

-…Terrifying.

The Infernal Heavens Formation that Kim Gong-ja devised wasn’t merely an upgrade of the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art. Although he might have started with simple, naive motivations like coming up with a new idea or how great it would be to perform the Infernal Heavens with others, not just by himself.

It’s not that simple.

– Distributing the burden that was once on a single Death King to hundreds of thousands of commoners…

Venomous Snake’s eyes darkened.

The Death King was noble, but alone. The followers revered the Death King not just as their leader but almost as a deity, a living legend. The Death King’s words were law, and his actions history.

Because only the Death King could fully manifest the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.

But the Formation is different.

Anyone moderately familiar with the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art can participate in the Formation. There’s no need to encapsulate the screams of all citizens. Just be faithful to one’s role, blend into the ranks like an actor, and perform just that one person.

-Sigh…

Kim Gong-ja is merely the conductor of the first orchestra there.

Bae Hu-ryeong spoke for the first time since the duel began. He was watching our fight from a distance. Of course, unfortunately, his response was impossible for Venomous Snake to hear.

-[Goddess of Protection] has summoned the swords she harbors. She gives them a body of Aura and fuels them to move, but the problem is these are parts of the Constellation. They have a mind of their own. In other words, Ego Swords. They fight on their own. The sight of Kim Zombie calling five Ego Swords scattering Aura and flying around. Hmm. Ummm. Very, very Kim Gong-ja-like….

“You crazy bastard!”

-Ah. That’s exactly what I mean. Even when you talk to yourself, sometimes your intentions get through? The world has become a better place.

Both of them are rambling on their own, but it’s utterly unrelated to the current battle.

I just wield my sword.

I can’t be distracted by the surrounding voices and noise. Right now, I am solely focused on Venomous Snake, continuing my offensive.

“Damn it!”

Venomous Snake’s fierce sword strike is automatically parried by the [Compassion Sword].

A strike aimed at the waist is blocked by the [Prayer Sword].

An attack trying to slice the wrist is deflected by the [Sacrifice Sword].

And as I rush towards the now exposed Venomous Snake,

“Damn you!”

As I striked.

A sharp sound of cutting flesh, “Ssshhh,” resounded.

‘It’s shallow.’

It’s not a fatal wound. Venomous Snake hastily steps back to avoid further injury. A few drops of blood stain the blade, but that’s it. Just like the loud clash when the sword and blade met, the sound of hissing lingers.

“……”

Again.

I feel a strange sensation and frown.

‘There was the sound of metal again.’

One might ask if the sound of metal is natural when a sword and blade clash, but not in this case. At least not now.

Because the demon swords are made of shadows, not metal.

Purely Aura-made demon swords should not make a sound of metal when clashing with Venomous Snake’s sword. Almost silent. At most, there should be a sound of something softly melting away or being bitten off.

If the metallic sounds didn’t come from my swords, then.

‘Venomous Snake.’

It must be the groan emanating from the opponent’s sword.

‘What kind of training have you undergone that makes your sword cry?’

I quietly observed Venomous Snake standing in front of me.

“Hoo, Heeuh… Haa, Hoooh… Hoo…”

Venomous Snake was bleeding, gasping for breath heavily.

With a smile on his lips.