SSS-Class Sui**de Hunter - Chapter 52

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 52. After the Ending (3)
3
We pushed through the crowd and finally reached the cafe.
Familiar faces were waiting inside.
“Aha-ha! Welcome, welcome!”
The Heresy Inquisitor, the guild master of Mansinjen, waved his right arm.
“Clearing twenty floors in just five days! It’s the greatest achievement since the tower was built. I truly admire you, Hunter Kim Gongja! Or should I call you by your alias now—Kim Gongja the King?”
“I’m half convinced it’s still a dream.”
The Holy Paladin sipped his iced coffee.
“Honestly, I thought the three of you—the Black Dragon Lord, the Sword Saint, and yourself—would fail the clear attempt and die. And you conquered the twentieth floor alone, no less? Remarkable. If there’s a secret, do tell.”
“A secret?”
I took a seat at one corner of the table.
“Just live righteously, I suppose?”
“Remarkably practical advice.”
The Holy Paladin smiled wryly.
“At any rate, it’s good to see you all after so long. How have you been?”
“Well, ‘after so long’ barely means five days.”
The Count drew on his long pipe with a puff.
“As we promised you, we stayed in the Throne Room at first. A promise is a promise, after all. But wouldn’t you know it—after a while, the Empire’s NPCs were suddenly walking around. We were quite startled!”
“Ah.”
That was when I’d defeated the Demon King on the twelfth floor.
After I vanquished the Demon King, I’d received a quest, and with it, time that had been frozen began to flow once more.
“I didn’t think of that. What happened?”
“The Empire’s NPCs thought we were traitors who’d invaded the Imperial Palace!”
The Heresy Inquisitor laughed in delight.
“Someone dressed in fine clothes shouted, ‘Seize those treacherous villains!’ and the Empire’s Order of Knights and elite soldiers came swarming to capture us. Oof, my spine went cold!”
“But this young rascal has a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Viper of Cheonmupmun.
The one-eyed hunter ruffled the Heresy Inquisitor’s hair affectionately.
“We let ourselves be captured peacefully, then broke out of the Underground Prison. Tch. Really, what a thing.”
“Aha-ha! Wasn’t it thrilling! Who knew there was a secret passage hidden in the Underground Prison! It felt just like returning to childhood!”
“Wait, didn’t you say you were held captive by the Bulgarian mafia as a kid?”
“Yes!”
The Heresy Inquisitor laughed innocently.
“That’s why those childhood memories came flooding back—it was fun! Prison! Underground! Escape! Ah, everything was such a beautiful ornament that made my youth shine! Now it’s all become a distant, nostalgic memory.”
“Lunatic……”
Viper sighed heavily.
While I’d been busily filming the Demon King’s demise, it seemed the guild master’s party had staged their own spectacle.
“Right. I understand you’ve all lived impressive lives out in the real world.”
The Black Dragon Lord shrugged and joined the table.
“The Count was born in some garbage village in India. Viper, your parents were violent gang bosses. The Holy Paladin had his struggles in Venezuela.”
……
“Which means by the world’s standards, we’re all garbage. Isn’t that right?”
The cafe fell silent in an instant.
Only the sound of the Holy Paladin sipping his coffee drifted through the quiet.
“…That’s not a fitting topic for this gathering.”
The Holy Paladin glanced sideways at my face.
“Are you saying you now consider Kim Gongja one of us?”
“Yes.”
The Black Dragon Lord spoke.
“You may not realize it, but Kim Gongja was decisive in clearing the tower.”
“We already know that.”
“No, you don’t.”
The Black Dragon Lord shook her head.
“In this clear attempt, we didn’t lose a single person. Even on the eleventh floor, where numerous hunters participated together, we suffered no casualties. All because Kim Gongja taught me strategy and tactics.”
All eyes turned to me.
Hmm.
“It’s true, actually.”
“I……”
The Black Dragon Lord parted her lips.
“I want to make this man into our tower’s representative hero.”
Silence settled over the cafe.
The Black Dragon Lord glanced around the table at each of the hunters in turn.
“Count, you’re far too obsessed with money.”
“I can’t deny the truth.”
“Heresy Inquisitor, you’ve killed far too many people.”
“Yes! It was necessary sacrifice!”
“Holy Paladin, you absolutely despise receiving anyone else’s attention.”
“It’s simply my nature.”
“And Viper, you…….”
“Huh? What is it?”
“…I’m sorry, but you’re rather unfortunate-looking.”
…….
Viper’s mouth fell open. Wounded indignation written across his face. Yet soon enough, his head drooped.
It was a portrait of middle-aged sorrow.
“As you know, the Sword Saint is just an old fool obsessed with his blade.”
“Mm.”
“I myself need to operate in the shadows too often — it won’t work for me.”
After surveying the table in order, the Black Dragon Lord finally turned her gaze to me.
“But Kim Gongja has no public image yet. If we make an effort, we can mold him into a flawless hero — this is an opportunity. A chance to reinvigorate the tower’s image.”
“Indeed.”
The Heresy Inquisitor stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“We’ve become rather stale goods, it’s true! We still churn out hunter news in magazines, but our sales numbers have been dropping steadily in the wider world!”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“Then we must begin image-making at once!”
With a bound, the Heresy Inquisitor leaped to his feet.
And he began circling me like an eager puppy.
“Hmm, the height is a touch short, but that’s fine! As you can see from me, photography can cover anything!”
“Uh…….”
Wait — wasn’t his diminutive stature supposed to be his charm point?
A radiant smile bloomed across the little hunter’s face.
“‘A Small Man with a Burning Soul, Kim Gongja.’ If we pitch that, it’ll absolutely land!”
Before I could say a word, the hunters crowded around me.
The Black Dragon Lord, the Count, Viper, the Holy Paladin.
Regardless of their affiliations, they gathered close and examined my entire body thoroughly.
“Might I ask — do you currently have a romantic partner?”
“No, I don’t.”
“And since joining the tower, anyone you’ve dated?”
“No.”
“So there’s no risk of romantic scandal. Perfect!”
I had no idea what was supposed to be perfect about that.
The top-tier ranker hunters began whispering among themselves.
“I’ve watched him closely, and when he smiles, there’s something slightly cunning about his expression. So I’m thinking we push the mystique angle — he’s good at maintaining that blank look anyway.”
“But the fact that he has no romantic ties at all is problematic.”
The Holy Paladin spoke.
“We need to fabricate at least some whispers, or the outside world will start spreading baseless rumors.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle that.”
“Oh! A scenario where love blossomed during five days of fierce battle together. Aha, excellent! That’s exactly the sort of story people will eat up!”
“What about the fact that he’s donated a substantial portion of his earnings to orphanages? I’ve been making consistent donations under a pseudonym for this very moment. We’ll reveal it was Kim Gongja all along.”
“Thank you, Count.”
What is this.
What exactly is happening right now?
“Let’s bring in a photographer at once! We’ll start shooting!”
The Heresy Inquisitor beamed.
“Call in the design team as well. We’ll need to leak at least one photo to the press before the day’s out. We’ve already got video footage from the eleventh floor — we’ll release it to the internet at the right moment!”
No.
Wait a moment.
“Um, everyone…….”
“Don’t worry yourself.”
The Black Dragon Lord cut me off with a smile.
A smile weathered by years of experience.
“Kim Gongja, you don’t need to do anything. We’ll handle everything. You just… right, just keep doing what you’ve been doing all along.”
“But you said it was supposed to be a mystery concept. Shouldn’t we not need designers at all?”
“Just for today, I’m asking.”
The Black Dragon Lord folded her hands politely.
“Everyone in the world wants to know about you. One photograph. Let’s take just one photograph and show it to people. Yes? It’s fine, Kim Gongja. The designers under contract with us are quite extraordinary.”
Thirty minutes later, it became clear that it was absolutely not just one photograph.
“Look this way, please!”
Click!
Ten designers descended upon me, dressing me, touching my hair. With each adjustment of my clothes and each touch to my head, a photographer’s flash burst forth.
“Yes, perfect. Now hold the short dagger! Like a wolf stalking prey from the tall grass!”
“Wait, hold on…”
“Excellent!”
Click!
Behind the photographer, Hunters had gathered in a cluster, examining my every pose with the eyes of hawks, murmuring amongst themselves.
“Formal wear doesn’t suit him as well as one might expect.”
“Perhaps we should go for a mischievous vibe instead.”
“Absolutely not! I’ve already claimed the mischievous concept!”
“Fair point. Then… what about a youth burning with the spirit of adventure?”
“Let’s go with that.”
Click!
“Excellent!”
Excellent, my foot.
-Pffftutt! Pfft, pffttt! Cackle-cackle-cackle!
The Backhoe Spirit had been rolling around in midair the whole time.
After an hour had passed, then two hours, with no end to the shoot in sight, even my patience finally snapped.
“I’m done! I’m quitting!”
I peeled off the formal wear and flung it to the ground.
“Hunters are supposed to climb the tower diligently! What’s all this nonsense about press image and photography? Because you people waste time on this garbage, you haven’t even cleared the tenth floor and you’ve been stuck for years!”
Silence.
Did my earnest words strike home? The air grew heavy. The Black Dragon Lord and every last Hunter stared intently at my face.
And then they nodded.
“…That last line wasn’t bad, was it?”
“Indeed. Truly the spirit of a youth burning with adventure!”
“We’ll make this issue’s motto: [A Hunter is one who climbs the tower].”
“We used to have that kind of passion in our twenties…”
None of it registered.
“Alright, I’m done! I came here to talk about floor twenty. I’ll give all rights to floors eleven through nineteen to all of you, so please let floor twenty be my domain!”
The Hunters nodded again.
“A concept of humble ambition works well too.”
“What about this for tomorrow’s headline? [King Gongja makes stunning announcement. Declares he will share the rights to floors eleven through nineteen with all Hunters. Says he is satisfied with merely conquering the tower].”
“I support it!”
“On the second page, let’s run: [King Gongja known to regularly donate to orphanages] — that should do nicely.”
“Yes. And we’ll say we offered floor twenty to such a man as a token of our gratitude and respect.”
“Perfect! Ah, what a beautiful conclusion!”
Wrong.
They weren’t listening to me at all.
These people were too caught up in the idea of making me a hero.
“Give up, young man.”
The Sword Saint spoke flatly.
The aging swordsman stood with his back against a pillar of the building.
“When I myself reached rank one, the very same thing happened. They’d go on and on about the refined dignity of age, how I should grow my beard differently. I heard every sort of nonsense imaginable.”
Lord help me.
“Those children want to show the outside world something. That [we too are living respectable, successful lives]. It’s a kind of inferiority complex, you see.”
The old man murmured.
“They abandoned everything in the outside world and came to the tower. So why does it gnaw at them so…”
The Sword Saint turned to leave.
“Come.”
“Sir?”
“If we stay here doing this, there’s no end to it. After the photographs, they’ll want videos. After the videos, a press conference. That’s how these people are. If you don’t flee now, the entire day will vanish.”
It was a terrible story.
I spoke without a moment’s hesitation.
“We need to run!”
“A sound judgment.”
We poured Aura into our feet and bolted. Behind us came a cry of “Wait!” but we didn’t stop.
“Kim Gongja!”
The Black Dragon Lord shouted.
“I’m holding a press conference tomorrow, so try to be back by morning! Keep to the shadows so no one notices you! Use the rooftops when you escape! Be careful!”
The Backhoe Spirit laughed, that rattling, wheezing sound.
-You know, that person isn’t an angel or a goddess. She’s just like your mother.
He was absolutely right.
Though I still couldn’t quite figure out what my mother was.
4
By now, dusk had settled over the world.
We escaped across the rooftops, just as the Black Dragon Lord advised. Looking down from above, hundreds of people still crowded in front of the Cafe.
Reporters from broadcasting stations swarmed everywhere—a bonus spectacle.
‘Good thing we didn’t exit through the front. That would’ve been a disaster.’
We vaulted across roof after roof, all stained crimson by the sunset.
We came to rest at the Bell Tower standing in the plaza.
The Guard who’d been manning the tower, fiddling with his smartphone, finally noticed us.
“Gasp! Y-you’re the Sword Saint!”
“Mm.”
The Sword Saint landed lightly on the tower.
“Forgive me, but might you step aside for a moment?”
“Oh, well… that is…”
“Five minutes will suffice.”
The young Guard stammered. How could he not be flustered when a living legend was asking him to leave? But then his eyes met mine, and they went wide.
“You’re not… the Death King?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Wow. Wow! This is my first time seeing you in person—this is amazing!”
The Guard fumbled frantically through his bag. A Romance Novel tumbled out. He’d brought various things to pass the time during his shifts.
“I-I only have this paper on me! Would you… would you sign it for me?”
The Sword Saint took the novel with practiced ease.
“Do you have a pen?”
“Y-yes, here!”
“And your name?”
“I… I haven’t received an alias yet…”
The aged Sword Saint signed with clean, practiced strokes.
The Guard accepted the autograph like an innocent boy, then turned to me.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, his eyes sparkled with eager brightness.
“W-would you sign for me too, Death King?”
“Sure.”
My autograph?
“I’ve never actually done something like that before…”
“It’s been my dream my whole life! Please, I’m begging you!”
Before I knew it, the novel and pen were in my hands.
An autograph as a lifelong dream. How light must his life be?
I looked down at the novel awkwardly. The Sword Saint’s signature was already there. I picked up the pen to sign, when it suddenly struck me—this was the first time I’d ever written the name “Kim Gongja” as characters on paper.
By the time I realized it, both our signatures lay side by side on the page.
+
Sword Saint.
Death King.
+
“…”
“Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”
The Guard bowed repeatedly, as if the signature might vanish. He quickly reclaimed the novel.
As he took the novel away, I was seized by an emotion I couldn’t quite name, one whose nature eluded even me.
“Hey…”
“I’ll treasure this! Don’t worry—I’ll never sell it to anyone! Ah, thank you both so much! Have a wonderful weekend!”
The Guard hurried down the Bell Tower’s stairs. His delighted voice—”Yes! I got them!”—faded lower and lower until it vanished entirely.
Finally, when the voice faded, there remained only a single point of crimson sunset in the Bell Tower.
And the quiet breath of two people.
“…….”
For a long moment, neither spoke.
And then.
“Um, Sword Saint.”
“Listen here, young man.”
Our voices collided and scattered. We had both begun speaking at once.
The awkward silence, however, did not last long.
I spoke.
“To you, Sword Saint, I must appear as one who has slaughtered countless people—a mass murderer who surely deserves judgment.”
I met his gaze with a composed expression.
“Yet if you were to look in a mirror, Sword Saint, you too would see a mass murderer who has slain countless people—yourself.”
The Sword Saint gazed not at me, but at the twilight.
“But you do not seek to judge yourself thus. This is because you possess a clear criterion for taking life—to punish those who harm many.”
I continued speaking, my words directed at his weathered profile bathed in dying light.
“I too have acted upon a clear criterion—to punish those who would harm many.”
It was a lie I had prepared since the moment I deceived him into believing I was a prophet.
“If someone killed many in the past, and you killed that person for it, then someone will kill many in the future, and I kill that person for it.”
Thus it was a carefully constructed falsehood, tailored specifically for the Sword Saint.
“So, Sword Saint, you and I are in fact treading the same path…….”
“Young man.”
But before I could finish, the old man called to me quietly.
“There is no need to convince yourself in such a manner.”
Hmm.
“Sword Saint, I…….”
“Young man.”
At his soft call, I closed my mouth.
The old man kept his gaze fixed upon the setting sun as he spoke.
“You are different from other Hunters.”
The remark seemed to come out of nowhere.
“The Black Dragon Witch, the Count, the Heresy Inquisitor, Viper, the Holy Paladin—they were all children who suffered greatly in the outside world. But you are different. You were born without want and have lived without lack.”
Marcus Kallenberry.
I had known that the old man before me came from a formidable family—or rather, I had searched for information about him during my investigation. A renowned house from Northern Europe, they said.
“When the Tower first appeared, I had already built my legacy. I managed enterprises, married, had children, and watched my children bear grandchildren. I had already achieved all that one could achieve.”
The Sword Saint’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“Yet doubt began to creep in.”
“Doubt?”
“Whether my success truly stemmed from my own ability alone. I simply grew curious.”
The old man slowly drew his sword from its sheath.
“Was it not merely the fortune of being born to a good family?”
The sunset cast its light upon him.
The blade was crimson, though it had cut nothing.
“Was I merely a bird born beneath a fortunate roof—receiving fine education, meeting fine friends, drinking only of the finest things? I pride myself on having built everything through my own hands, and yet… might it not all be the delusion of one caged within a gilded aviary?”
The Sword Saint spoke.
“No.”
His voice was sharp as a blade.
“That cannot be.”
A heart as crimson as the sunset burned within those words.
“I was indeed born to fortune and privilege. But despite that, I held the pride of standing tall by my own will. I wanted to prove that this pride was no mere fantasy.”
“…So that is why you entered the Tower.”
“Yes.”
The old man nodded.
His wrinkles were deep and pronounced.
“Those who enter the Tower can never return to the outside world. Here, with nothing but this one body—no house, no family, no retainers to support me—I wished to prove my life through myself alone.”
But then, the Sword Saint murmured.
“Somewhere along the way, I seem to have grown careless.”
“…….”
“Skill Card. Open. Reveal.”
Flash!
A silver card materialized in the Sword Saint’s hand.
+
[Detective’s Insight]
Rank: B-
Effect: You can perceive the kill count of your opponent. Indirect murders are not included. Only murders committed with clear intent are tallied.
※However, you cannot determine the method of the murder.
+
“How foolish I’ve been.”
The Sword Saint gazed down at his skill card.
“I swore to trust only my own eyes and hands — and yet, without even noticing when, I came to rely upon this thing called a [Skill]. I began to see through the skill rather than with my own eyes, and I trusted the skill’s judgment blindly rather than making my own determinations.”
And then.
“Young man, I have one final question.”
The old man’s blue eyes turned toward me.
“Have you ever killed a single innocent life?”
Ah, I see.
So that’s why he said there was no need to convince himself — and I understood.
Yes. Understanding, as I had just done, is something the ‘mind’ does.
No matter how elaborate a lie might be, it can only ensnare someone’s intellect; it cannot capture their heart.
“No.”
Not understanding — but conviction.
“I have never done such a thing, Sword Saint.”
Just as I had done when facing the tower’s pillar.
I spoke through my heart.
“And I never will.”
The Sword Saint closed his eyes quietly.
As if he were mulling over my expression and tone.
Silence flowed between us.
And then.
“…Shh!”
The card flew.
A crimson blade cleaved the card as it sailed through the air.
Split cleanly in two.
Golden twilight seeped through the widening gap.
“I shall trust my own eyes.”
The card scattered into particles of light.
The skill had been destroyed.
“Five days is a long time. Thank you for indulging an old man’s stubbornness.”
The Sword Saint sheathed his blade.
“Now that we’re here, I’ll say it — clearing floors twelve through nineteen with you has been a rather pleasant experience. Rest well today. Once the press conference ends tomorrow, floor twenty-one will open shortly.”
The old man pressed against the ground.
Just before leaping to another building’s roof, he glanced back at me.
“I look forward to seeing your prowess on the next floor, Dead King.”
And in an instant, he vanished from the bell tower.
“…….”
For a long while, I simply stood there.
I opened my mouth hesitantly.
“Sword Saint, did you just…….”
-Yeah.
“Did the Sword Saint just recognize me?”
-Looks like it.
My heart suddenly lifted.
“Wow…….”
My legs gave way and I sank slowly to the stone floor. The cold stone was refreshing. I stared blankly up at the sky, which had stopped turning red and begun to darken.
“Wow, really… it’s really over. Floor twenty is mine now. The media will be handled by the guild masters anyway……. Yes, it’s truly all finished.”
Backhoe Spirit let out a soft laugh.
-Over? If anyone saw you, they’d think you’d cleared fifty floors.
“By how I feel, I’ve cleared ninety.”
-Tsk tsk tsk. Zombie, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re brave or a coward.
“Honestly, sometimes I can’t tell either…….”
In any case, I had brought everything up to floor twenty to a close.
It was then, wrapped in a strange sense of satisfaction, that it happened.
[The Goddess of Protection admires your accomplishments!]
A voice I hadn’t heard in a long time rang out.
“Huh?”
Now that I thought about it.
Even though I’d vanquished the Demon King of Autumn Rain, the Goddess of Protection had remained silent. In fact, except for the first time I’d cleared the twelfth floor, the Goddess of Protection had always been quiet.
[The Goddess of Protection acknowledges all of your deeds!]
As if to make up for her long silence, her voice came in rapid succession.
[The Goddess of Protection believes that even if your claim to be her apostle were a lie, you possess more than enough qualification to truly become one.]
[The Goddess of Protection permits you to make use of her going forward!]
But something odd had slipped into her words.
“…Make use of her going forward? What do you mean by that?”
[The Goddess of Protection is hurt, asking what you mean when you’ve gotten along so well all this time.]
The words made even less sense.
“Gotten along so well all this time?”
[The Goddess of Protection tells you to look down.]
I looked down.
There was nothing but stone floor.
[The Goddess of Protection tells you to look a little more to the left.]
I shifted my gaze to the left.
There were my legs and waist.
At my waist hung a legendary weapon said to have been bestowed upon the First Emperor of Aequim The Empire by the Goddess herself—the Holy Sword of Aequim’s Protection, sheathed and worn at my side.
“…Wait a minute. Could it be?”
[The Goddess of Protection urges you to focus your gaze on your waist.]
An uneasy feeling crept over me.
Suddenly, the scene from the twelfth floor flashed back—fighting against the Demon King’s forces.
At that moment, the Goddess of Protection’s voice had clearly rung out, squeezing out her last strength. The instant her words ended, something in my grip had blazed with white light.
There had been no other miracle besides that.
In other words.
“Wait, hold on. Could it be that this [Goddess of Protection] everyone kept mentioning during the fight with the Demon King was actually…?”
I spoke with a sense of dawning realization.
“You… were the sword all along?”
After a moment.
The voice answered.
[The Goddess of Protection confirms it!]
Good heavens.
It seemed the Holy Sword I’d been wielding really was a holy sword after all.
S-Rank: I Die to Live (Serialized)
Author | Shin Noa
Publisher | Kim Ju-hyung
Published by | J Plus Media Co., Ltd.
Marketing | Han Jae-hyuk
Address | 204, 288 Digital-ro, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong, Daelung Post Tower 1st)
Email | [email protected]
Website | www.jayplemedia.com
ⓒ Shin Noa 2019
※ This work has been published by J Plus Media Co., Ltd. in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder, and no part of its content may be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
Violation of this may result in criminal and civil liability.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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