SSS-Class Suicide Hunter-Chapter 394: The Time He Waited, The Time He Walked (7)

His master was not a perfect person.

[That's not how you do it. Watch closely.]

There was always a slight thrill mixed into those words.

[You're doing well. Quite impressive.]

There was always a slight jealousy mixed into those words.

[At this part, there's nothing more I can teach. You're better than me now. ]

There was always a slight frustration mixed into those words.

The reason he could feel these emotions was not solely because he was particularly perceptive. It was because his master did not try to hide them.

When he first became a disciple, his master clearly said:

[I will treat you as you are.]

[....]

[I won't embellish. I won't hide. I won't deceive. You will always see my true face. The me you see will exactly match the depths of my being.]

His master looked him straight in the eyes.

[Therefore, you must become strong.]

[....]

[There are those who wield 'honesty' like a get-out-of-jail-free card. What they forget is that any person's heart is sharp enough to slice through someone else's heart. Just as there is no courtesy in carrying a naked blade without a scabbard, treating someone with absolute honesty can never be a heartwarming tale.]

His master firmly held his shoulders and continued in a resolute tone.

[Nevertheless, I will be honest with you. Your heart will be cut countless times by me. Be prepared. Do you understand?]

He nodded.

It was just as his master said. Raw, unfiltered honesty was truly a terrifying thing.Even when people from the Great Yin Grotto clung to him, even when enemies pointed their swords at him, they were never completely honest, which he learned through real battles.

His master taught him how to deal with this knowledge.

[Do not try to be considerate where it is impossible. Cut through it. Do not avoid, face it. Do not accept what you cannot accept. Strike back. Face me with the mindset of wielding a blade in a duel. Endure. Confront. Become stronger!]

And so he did.

He did not avoid getting hurt. He did not awkwardly try to match the mood. He simply treated the person called 'master' as he was… and his master treated him the same. Just as there can be no gaps between mountains and fields, there were no misunderstandings between them.

Thus.

[ It's about time for you to leave. ]

He could not misunderstand the meaning of those words.

[Master.]

[I have lasted long enough. ]

His master was dying.

The True Human are a race that absorbs sunlight through their skin and sustains themselves by sucking sap through their mouths. Their physical size does not change much from birth to death, but the brightness of their skin could roughly indicate their age. His master, already quite dim when they first met, was now like a candle wick that had burned down to nothing but the last flicker before going out.

[I was not strong enough to live forever. That's all there is to it.]

His master coughed. His body flashed brightly once and then dimmed.

He learned that not being able to misunderstand was both a terrifying and sorrowful thing.

[ I'm glad. ]

And, it was also painfully joyous.

[That I could meet you before I left.]

Those words were filled with deep regret and profound gratitude.

[That I could teach you various things.]

Those words were filled with intense sorrow and great relief.

[It was a fortune to have been your master.]

Those words were filled with bottomless anxiety and soaring pride.

[Master.]

His master could have said this too.

I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was lacking.

Please forgive my weakness for not consistently leading the way before you, and ultimately not being able to stand beside you.

But instead of doing so, his master said this… He expressed gratitude for their meeting rather than apologizing for his shortcomings. And it wasn't a lie. It wasn't made up. Although both were exactly the same proportion, and neither choice would be false, his master still chose to do so.

He knew this without deceit.

Thump!

He prostrated himself on the floor with his forehead.

Thump!

His master, lying in the sickbed, watched him with faint flickers.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

It was a bow offered to his master.

His master silently received his bow. The gratitude in one bow, the regret in another, and once more, a bow. If it's said that each piece of the sky shattered by the original sword strike has a soul lingering in it, then the bows he offered were surely drawing down each of those souls to the earth in reverence.

There were seventeen bows in total.

His master smiled. Since his master's face lacked eyes and a nose, a smile could be formed just by moving the lips.

[Thank you.]

His master closed his eyes.

It did not take long for the flickering to cease and only a milky white body remained. By the time that time had passed, he no longer had a master.

[....]

Living in a world without his master was not as overwhelming as it might seem.

His master had taught him. There were problems in the world that existed regardless of the strength one possessed.

Even a single person's heart could be sharp enough to wound him. The fact that one must face each encounter as if crossing swords taught him just how full of adversaries this world was. He could have killed all the people in this world alone, but conversely, he couldn't save even one dying person.

He was not invincible.

He was just a bit lucky.

He was just a bit naturally strong.

That was all.

He was an ordinary person.

And so, in that moment, he realized that he was no longer lonely.

7.

The declaration of clearing the floor was made as soon as he entered.

[Key Formation complete.]

[The world fragments woven by your world are now completely bound to your world.]

[The worlds that had been destroyed have gained another opportunity in the Lion World.]

[The 97th floor is cleared.]

However, the one who heard this declaration did not step onto the staircase leading to the next floor. Instead, he quietly walked through the world.

No—through worlds.

"At one time, cruel things happened here."

This world was a museum.

The walls were spotlessly white. Similarly, the whitish ceiling and floor were connected by shimmering silver ducts. It had a hospital-like atmosphere. However, what was placed there were not specimens or sickbeds, but various statues, paintings, and tools.

The motifs of the statues varied but mostly shared the commonality of depicting young children. The contents of the paintings involved the use of tools on these young children.

And the tools were all instruments of torture.

Tools for pulling out live teeth, tools for prying open the gaps of fingernails, tools from which steam would pour out when water was added and fire was applied, tools that would rip the scalp along with the hair when pulled—all were tools capable of inflicting pain.

A woman in a gown led a group of boys and girls freshly dressed in school uniforms and said,

"When the [The Evangelist of Everlasting Happiness] Constellation governed here, victims were chosen. And the screams of those victims were used as power to produce food, operate machines, and make medicine."

The boys and girls listened intently to the woman's story, holding their breath.

"Is it justifiable to sacrifice a few for the many? If it is, then is it right to sacrifice one person for the sake of everyone? Between a death given in an instant and prolonged pain that staves off death, which is truly more unjust?"

"...."

"Many people could give a variety of answers. Some might think that what happened here represents our inevitable future, and all human effort is either a struggle to ignore it or futile efforts to delay it."

As the woman looked each of the boys and girls in the eye, she continued speaking.

"It's okay to think that way."

"...."

"No, it would even be fine if some of you regard it as an ideal and strive towards it."

The woman raised her head and looked around at the paintings hanging in the museum.

"Because the tragedy of this world is not that it is such a world, but that everyone has become so [accustomed] to such a world that [no one even questions it] anymore."

The woman stopped in front of a statue.

The statue's subject was not a young child. The woman stroked the back of her hand over a statue of a man standing with a sword.

"Action without question becomes a matter of course, and there is no responsibility in what is considered a matter of course. And in a world where no one takes responsibility, there are no further possibilities, and where there are no possibilities, there is no future."

"...."

"That's why this world remained destroyed until someone from outside came along."

Few of the students understood her story.

Many were more interested in the provocative contents of the pictures. One person chuckled lightly while looking up at the man's statue. Another child poked at the torture tools with a finger, feeling the texture of the metal.

However, a few (really, just a few) were deep in thought.

"Everyone."

The woman addressed that minority.

"It's okay whatever kind of life you lead. Just be someone who takes responsibility for your own life."

The students answered with a yes.

The statue of the man seemed to be looking down at those students.

– ....

The man resembling the statue also observed the scene.

No one could sense his presence as he slowly began to walk.

"Ah, I'm telling you there's no news!"

The next place the man stepped into was a splendid palace.

A blonde girl with a garden trowel at her side was frowning and ranting.

"Damn it! I just want to know! When that damn guy will return! Whether he's really dead or not! …At least that's not the case, right?"

In front of the blonde girl was a woman with long silver hair tied back. She sighed while folding her fan and replied.

"That's right. Considering my skill hasn't activated, he's not dead."

"Are you sure about that? What about that, the previous incident with Constallation Killer. What if he's been sealed or something…"

"Then he would have asked for help."

"Ah! Maybe he didn't even have a chance to ask for help before he died!"

"That's unlikely."

The silver-haired woman crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hand.

"Anyway, he is—my partner, after all."

The blonde girl sighed, her head drooping.

"Crazy inseparable couple…"

"What did you just say?"

"I said, a crazy inseparable couple???"

The silver-haired woman stared blankly at the blonde girl. The blonde girl looked back at the woman with a 'what, why' expression, and after about a minute passed, she cleared her throat and then tucked her hands into her robe.

"Anyway, this."

"Changing the subject, I see."

"Ah! Just take this, here."

The silver-haired woman accepted the object the girl handed her.

Inside it was a well-dried fish. The silver-haired woman's delicate face grimaced.

"What's this?"

"Dried pollack."

"Why dried pollack?"

"The crown prince asked me to bring it to you. Said he was sorry about this and that."

"That man, seriously…."

The silver-haired woman touched her forehead… It was at that moment.

"...."

The silver-haired woman paused and turned her head. The blonde girl was startled and looked in the same direction before furrowing one eyebrow.

"There's nothing there, right?"

"What's the matter? Did you see a ghost or something?"

"...Hmm."

The silver-haired woman just smiled slightly, without answering.

The blonde girl seemed to shiver at her expression, but regardless, the silver-haired woman reached out and accepted the gift.

"Tell him I received it well."

The blonde girl's eyes widened.

"Huh? I thought you'd just toss it to the dogs. Maybe you've mellowed over time?"

"No."

The silver-haired woman pushed the gift aside and propped her chin again.

"I had this feeling somewhere that he was getting jealous. Isn't that just cute?"

"Ah, you crazy cringey couple… I'm out."

After the blonde girl left, lamenting, the silver-haired woman continued to smile at a corner of her room for a while.

The man started walking again.

His journey continued.

"As for me, the Cosmic Iron Knight…"

In a place with no stars. He walked through a world made only of points and lines, composed of countless satellites and massive connecting pathways.

"There's a terrifying legend at Dawn Mountain Cabin."

"What legend?"

"I don't believe in legends…"

"What the hell is up with this crazy old man?"

On a dark mountain peak stood a cabin. He walked through a world that was merely that.

"Mom! Mom! Look at this!"

"Yes, my daughter. It's called dried pollack. Where did you get it?"

"Ooh! Mr. Dried Pollack ajussi gave it to me!"

He walked through a world where a free-spirited girl was holding the hand of a sickly-looking woman and crossing a crosswalk.

In that world, the woman and man exchanged glances for a moment. Maybe the woman's daughter, the girl, as well.

It could just be a coincidence, or they might have really made eye contact. The man himself didn't know.

In fact, as a man, he could not even be sure if he and the silver-haired woman had truly had any contact in the previous world, or if that, too, was merely an incredible coincidence.

But he knew he would soon find out.

Very soon.

– ....

The place where the man, who had traversed many worlds, finally stopped was in front of a red peony flower blooming in spring.

Beyond that peony, a sword was embedded.

There was nothing else. No tombstone as tall as a tower, no burial mound as large as a mountain. It seemed to be maintained since the blade was not rusted, but otherwise, with the lush weeds and wildflowers, it just looked like a flower garden.

But it was not just any flower garden.

It was simply that the sword, and that peony, were part of the flora along with the weeds and wildflowers.

– ....

The man began to bow towards the flowers.

– ....

With the first bow, the man encompassed the death and rebirth of a world that had sought immortal happiness through the pain of an innocent child.

– ....

With the second bow, the man encompassed the death and rebirth of a world where a heart of silver stuck in eternity, died of duty and lived again through love transcending duty.

– ....

With the third bow, another world.

With the fourth bow, the fifth, the sixth…

– ....

Eventually, at the last ninth bow, the man encapsulated the peony that bloomed at the end of an eternal winter.

– ....

The man bowed deeply.

And then he stepped back, turning around to walk away just as the peony went out of view.

[Entering the 98th floor.]

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