SSS-Class Sui**de Hunter - Chapter 82

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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 82. The Most Wretched in All the World (2)
“Aha!”
Master laughed.
“Ahahaha! Haha!”
Her nose bone cracked and blood flowed. Shedding her blood upon the white snow, with a sharp exhale, Master swung her bare fist.
“Hnngh!”
The fist struck precisely at the Murim Alliance Lord’s jaw. The moment he stumbled, his feet slipping beneath him, Master seized that instant without hesitation. She lunged. She pounced.
She bit down.
“Ugh!”
Crack!
“Argh, hhgh! Ghhhhh……! You, bastard……!”
The Murim Alliance Lord pushed Master away in panic, but his ear was already drenched in blood. With a wet, tearing sound, flesh ripped away. “Ghhck!” A stifled scream scattered across the snowy plain.
“Spit!”
Master spat the ear, crimson with blood, into the snow. Her own mouth had turned red as well. She smiled with the satisfaction of a hunter surveying her kill.
A demon.
She had the appearance of a blood-starved specter.
“Pfft! Foul taste indeed! The Namgung Clan’s ancient meditation technique does nothing to improve the meat quality!”
“You demon head—hmph. Just like a left-hand demonic heretic, now you savor human flesh!”
“You’re like wilted spinach in your old age. Yet there’s no fault in what you said just now.”
Master wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
“The Orthodox vs. Demonic Great Battle should have ended on the first day. Both you and I withdrew. We thought we wagered everything, yet in truth we did not. We never truly risked our lives!”
“…….”
“Today’s confrontation is a second chance that should never have been given.”
Master looked at me.
In her dark eyes lay warmth and gentle compassion.
“I cannot repeat the same foolish mistake. Bu-wol-seon, today I will pour out everything.”
“…You mean to shatter your Innate True Qi.”
“Yes.”
Innate True Qi.
The vital force one possesses from birth—in other words, life itself. Unlike Internal Qi, one cannot cultivate it artificially. Once spent, it is gone. And the fate of a martial master who draws upon “life” is already written.
Death. Or becoming a cripple.
For those of the martial world, Innate True Qi is the final recourse—no different from a last stand formation.
“…Demon head, in any case, we are both already weakened.”
The Murim Alliance Lord spoke. Perhaps from the loss of one ear—the Murim Alliance Lord’s expression twisted fearfully.
“Even if you draw upon your Innate True Qi now, you’ll display only intermediate or lower-rank skill at best, not that of a master. You have no Internal Qi, not even a Dantian left. To manifest Divine Position is impossible. …Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“And yet you would shatter your Innate True Qi merely to display the martial technique of an intermediate master?”
“Of course.”
Master smiled.
“Do not misunderstand, Namgung Un. I do not wish to abandon life. Never that. I only hope that my end, whenever it comes, will be today.”
“…….”
“I feel a joy of being alive as I have never felt before. Grateful—endlessly grateful. I am grateful for having survived until now, and grateful for this destiny that allows me to die today.”
“Even though the world has perished?”
“Yes. I am grateful for every bond I have encountered up until this moment.”
Master slowly took her stance.
Right hand forward. Left hand back.
“Looking back, I have truly been a fortunate martial master.”
Whoooosh!
The wind and snow swirled. Not snow falling from the sky—a small vortex spun around Master. Her Innate True Qi flowed outward. Wind rippled from her center.
“…So. So it has come to this.”
The Murim Alliance Lord faced her wind bare-faced.
“Good. I too have longed for a day such as this.”
The wind reversed course.
“Let us die together, Heavenly Demon.”
Both rushed toward each other.
And I—I watched two lives flow across the snowy plain.
Master deflected the Murim Alliance Lord’s hand. The Murim Alliance Lord hooked at Master’s foot. Arms crossed, footwork interlaced—from both their bodies flowed Innate True Qi without end. It was the hemorrhage of life.
Millennial snow that the sun could not melt now melted in the lives of two people.
Master struck at the Murim Alliance Lord’s waist. Wind scattered. In the direction the fingertips pointed, snow flowed away with the wind.
In a world buried beneath the snowy plain, only the path where two people’s hands and feet had passed began to slowly reveal bare earth.
“…….”
But that was not all.
Around my master and the Murim Alliance Lord as they fought, gradually and swiftly, things that were not white began to grow. Weeds. Brush. Though the rest of the ground remained frozen beneath snow, a season had bloomed along the path where the two of them clashed.
-They’re growing by consuming Internal Qi.
The Backhoe Spirit said flatly.
-With masters of that caliber, it’s a feast fit for immortals. Brief though it may be.
Even if only for a moment, the season they conjured was beautiful.
The earth drank in the Internal Qi that poured from both of them. Thus heaven and earth returned, if only briefly, to the form they had worn before eternal winter claimed them.
It was a forest of peach blossoms.
As if time itself had accelerated, peach trees grew and thickened. Their branches resembled human fingers. The limbs that clawed up from the earth reached toward the sky like grasping hands trying to seize something.
Flowers bloomed.
Between petals tinged with pink, through the gaps of finger-like branches, my master and the Murim Alliance Lord engaged in a Comparative Martial Combat.
Gestures and movements meant to kill.
Yet when obscured for a moment by the petals, it became a dance of grace—a Comparative Dance—and because their entire lives hung in the balance, a Comparative Life. Veiled by petals, so much of the world grew radiant. Even killing intent. Even my master’s venom and your poison.
-…This is rather rare.
A white Snowy Plain.
Red peach petals scattered.
-One possesses an Extreme Yin Body, the other a Heavenly Martial Body from birth. Yin and Yang align almost perfectly. The space around those two has already become another realm. …I’ve never witnessed such a wondrous sight before.
The peach blossoms bloomed and faded.
Spring lingered, then passed on.
“Heavenly Demon Lordly Step.”
My master took a step. A blizzard swirled, and the peach blossoms scattered.
“Yellow Axe Breaks Heaven.”
The Murim Alliance Lord twisted his wrist. The snow wind ceased, and the peach blossoms bloomed anew.
“…….”
A petal caught the wind and landed on my shoulder.
Only then did I understand.
Those red flowers were my master’s blood. The Murim Alliance Lord’s blood.
Petals that had bloomed from drinking the blood these two would shed for the last time.
“…I despise you.”
Winter bleeds.
“I despise you all.”
My master.
“I despise the Orthodox Sect. I despise the great righteous warriors. I despise the Nine Schools. I abhor the Five Great Families. While commoners cry out in agony, you are content. You stand aloof. Yet what I cannot forgive is not your happiness. It never was.”
My master.
“That creatures like you also suffer—”
The peach blossoms bloomed and faded, the season lingered and passed, yet with each cycle fewer flowers emerged, and each lingering season grew shorter.
“That creatures like you also speak of life as painful, wear expressions of suffering, utter words of hurt, seek comfort, offer consolation, and thus masquerade as human beings. This—”
My master was dying.
“—this I find abominable.”
The flowers wither.
“How can it be.”line>
The season fades.

“That you are endless beasts to others, yet infinitely human only to yourselves?”
Countless peach blossoms obscured the shadows of both fighters.
Looking back, it had been a dream lasting only an instant, a Comparative Martial Combat that took no more than the space of a tea ceremony.
The branches withered. No more peach blossoms could bloom. Wind swept across, and snow fell once more upon the bare ground. In the midst of the scattered petals, my master and the Murim Alliance Lord stood tall.
“…….”
A twisting motion.
“…Ugh, hagh! Hh… hgh……!”
Something redder still spattered across the crimson flower bed.
The blood of the Murim Alliance Lord.
My master’s clenched fist pressed against the Murim Alliance Lord’s chest. The old man swayed like a mirage. Then he fell, lightly. As his body collapsed, the red flowers rose up to meet him.
My master stood motionless.
“Master.”
I called out, but no answer came.
“Master.”
I broke into a run, hurrying forward until I reached him and embraced his still-standing form.
So cold.
His body was as cold as ice.
“Master…….”
“You’ve won.”
My master’s voice was clear. The warmth that had drained from her body still lingered in her words, but it was terribly faint. Her fingers, her frame—all had grown light, as if aged in an instant.
“Yes, I’ve won. You’ve won.”
“By rights, a fist should pierce the chest and grasp the heart. But I’ve merely struck—haven’t even broken through. I’ve no face to show my disciple.”
“That’s not true. It isn’t.”
“Well then, perhaps my face is better than yours right now. What a expression you’re wearing.”
I gathered my master carefully into my arms, cradling her body with my aura. Yet she did not warm. Even her fingertips, as they brushed my cheek, were cold as icicles.
“Don’t worry, my disciple. If I am to breathe my last, there remains yet two hours.”
Two hours.
“Surely that is time enough for a parting.”
Now only two hours remained in which I could hear this voice, feel this breath.
“…And yet you grieve so.”
My master’s face grew sorrowful.
“You trouble your master with such sorrow. Though in truth, I have troubled you as well. I had hoped to spend long hours imparting all that I know, yet my stubborn will has denied even that. I fear what I may become in your heart—whether emptiness, or something left behind. What will remain of me?”
Whispering her dread that she might become nothing to me, my master coughed—a terrible cough, flecked with blood.
“If I am remembered as but a single flower that bloomed and passed, then I ask for nothing more…….”
“Sa Wang!”
An urgent cry split the air.
It was the Pharmacist’s voice. Only now realizing that the Orthodox vs. Demonic Great Battle had unfolded on the Snowy Plain, she and the tower’s party were rushing toward us in haste.
“Sa Wang, what… what has happened…….”
“Hey! Master?”
Viper spotted the Murim Alliance Lord and gasped.
“Are you all right? Hey, Master! Look here! Open your eyes!”
“That old fool will be fine.”
My master coughed weakly, a thin trickle.
“The final strike went shallow—barely penetrated. He boasted all day about heaven’s fortune riding with him or some such nonsense… but it seems his heaven’s fortune is a lifetime as a cripple.”
“A… a cripple, you say.”
The Pharmacist’s mouth fell open.
“I absolutely will not allow such an outcome… no, but there’s no time for this! Both of you must receive treatment at once!”
“As for me, there is nothing to be done. Care for that old woman instead.”
“But……!”
“I know my own body best. It is already nearing its end.”
My master said, “And besides.”
“I wish to spend these final hours with my one and only disciple.”
……
“Would you grant us two this courtesy?”
The Pharmacist was both pharmacist and healer. She approached and pressed her fingers firmly to my master’s wrist, activating her skill to diagnose the patient’s condition.
Shadow crossed the Pharmacist’s face.
“I have pain relief medicine. Shall I administer it?”
“There’s no need.”
My master smiled.
“The winter wind is lovely. How pleasant it is, how it clears the chest. When I go to Paradise, I wish to feel this wind fully.”
……
The Pharmacist rose. With a deep bow, she bowed silently to my master. The Pharmacist King, standing wordless, gestured to gather his companions. Soon they lifted the Murim Alliance Lord and returned to the Cave.
They were granting my master and me this kindness.
“…Master.”
“Yes.”
My master took my hand.
“What shall we do with these remaining two hours? Are you curious about my childhood? Would you like to hear how beautiful the Sect’s main temple is?”
“I would be grateful.”
I, too, gripped my master’s warm hand firmly.
There was still time.
Your life was not yet complete. For you to reach a perfect conclusion, to savor the highest moment—one more piece of the puzzle was still needed.
“I have a request.”
“What is it?”
“Will you engage in a Comparative Martial Combat with me?”
My master’s eyes widened.
“Unexpected indeed. It is admirable that you wish to surpass your master, yet as you see, I can scarcely move. What honor would there be in defeating one so immobilized, Gongja?”
“It need not be a Comparative Martial Combat of the body.”
“Hmm?”
“I wish to test myself against you through a Verbal Sword Duel, Master.”
“A Verbal Sword Duel, you say.”
Verbal Sword Duel.
A comparative martial contest waged not with body, but with words.
One describes which technique to deploy and how to attack. If the opponent counters, one must then articulate a response to that counter.
Therefore, there is no need to move limbs. Internal Qi is unnecessary.
A battle fought purely through martial discernment alone.
The collision of martial philosophies.
“I see.”
And so my Master smiled softly.
“My disciple’s pride has grown quite lofty. If we fought body to body, victory would be yours, Gongja—but in a Verbal Sword Duel, defeat is certain. I shall unfold my techniques as freely as in my prime, and you’ve barely grasped a fragment of the Demonic Heavenly Divine Art. How do you imagine you could stand against me?”
“I…”
I opened my mouth.
“I don’t believe your bout with the Murim Alliance Lord was your finest. You said so yourself—that if circumstances had allowed, you would have pierced his chest and seized his heart. Even if this is only a duel of words, I wish for you to achieve your ultimate, most satisfying Comparative Martial Combat at last.”
A battle without regret.
The desire of every true martial artist.
“Are you saying you can provide such a duel?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
My Master seemed amused by the proposal. Perhaps he saw it as the romantic whimsy of a young disciple. There was no glimmer of genuine expectation that I could truly deliver such a contest.
“Very well. But I shall show no mercy in this Verbal Sword Duel either. I will grant you the first move, yet even if I end this in a single strike, harbor no resentment.”
“Yes.”
“Once the bout concludes, I shall tell you the stories of my past. Now then—show me the fruits of your training.”
My Master smiled broadly.
A smile that carried the fragrance of peach blossoms.
I looked down at my Master’s face, and slowly beheld the man seated opposite me—a martial artist who had once stood at the pinnacle in another world entirely.
A breath.
The Sword Emperor.
Now, at last, my turn had come.
An existence that had once claimed the seat of supreme master in another martial realm.
Though a spirit unable to fight with body, if I lent him my voice, only a Verbal Sword Duel remained possible.
‘Yes—please honor the promise I lost in that wager.’
-Agreed.
The Backhoe Spirit laughed sharply.
-I’ve been wanting a bout with this Demonic Sect master anyway.
He crossed his arms and settled upon the snowy ground.
-I shall grant the finest Comparative Martial Combat. Tell him I will concede the first three moves.
With me between them, two supreme masters from different martial worlds faced one another.
SSS-Rank: The Hunter Who Must Die to Live (Serialized)
Author │ Shin No-ah
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, Daeloong Post Tower 1st)
Email │ [email protected]
Website │ www.jayplemedia.com
© Shin No-ah 2019
This work is published by J-Plus Media Co., Ltd. in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder and may not be used in any form or by any means without the permission of the publisher and author.
Violation of this may result in criminal and civil legal 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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