The Crazy Villain Regains His Sanity - Chapter 56

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

Chapter 56

Zhang Zidong and the Chinese Delegation followed the same itinerary as the American Delegation.
After an awkward, tense dinner, talks between the President and the Chinese Prime Minister commenced.
In the meantime, I was summoned by Cheon Myeong-guk, where I received praise for reasons I didn’t quite understand.

“It was good that you didn’t finish it there.”
……

Never thought the day would come when I’d be praised for not killing someone on the spot.
Though to be fair, it wasn’t that I didn’t kill him—he dodged.
If I’d pressed one more time, I would’ve ended it.
Still, since Cheon Myeong-guk looked so pleased, I’ll let him think otherwise.

“He was marked for death anyway. His life was only prolonged for a brief moment.”
“I didn’t expect those words to sound so reassuring.”
“Because he is marked for death.”
“What was your first impression of him?”
“A man who deserves to die? When I saw him, he practically looked like he was begging to be killed.”
“Precisely. Zhang Zidong has a reputation for arrogance and has made demeaning remarks toward Korea under the guise of Chinese supremacy.”
“That irritates me.”

My own country is mine to criticize. When someone from another nation does it, it grates.
Another reason added to the list of why he needs to die. Though I would’ve killed him anyway, reasons or not.
Cheon Myeong-guk moved to the main point.

“But you’re certain that Zhang Zidong used a Spatial Movement Gift?”
“It was definitely Spatial Movement.”

Cheon Myeong-guk’s expression darkened.

“Spatial Movement Gifts are extremely difficult to handle. Killing someone with one is even harder. There’s a chance he might not be fully eliminated. Perhaps it would be better to focus on injuring him instead?”
“Director.”
“Yes?”
“Remember this one thing: killing people is far easier for me than keeping them alive.”
……
“Whether his Gift is Spatial Movement or anything else doesn’t matter. If Zhang Zidong challenges me to a sparring match without understanding his place, I will kill him.”

Cheon Myeong-guk’s mouth closed.

“I understand. I wasn’t trying to underestimate you, Superhuman Choi Jun-ho.”
“I know.”

After the President and Chinese Prime Minister concluded their talks came the briefing on Nuri’s hunting process.
And Zhang Zidong began adding more reasons for me to kill him.

* * *

The explanation of Nuri’s hunting process was the same as it had been with the Americans. But midway through, Zhang Zidong raised his hand and interjected, and the atmosphere rapidly froze.

“I’m not interested in this rehearsed hunting process.”
……
“Tell me what’s hidden beneath this façade. What secrets? What Gifts were at play?”

Zhang Zidong’s gaze shifted toward me. The murderous intent in his eyes—dial it back. Right now, in this room, I’m having a hard time resisting the urge to snap his neck.

“If you don’t want to believe me, then leave.”
“Are you talking to me like that?”
“When someone extends goodwill, you’re supposed to bow and offer thanks—where did you learn such manners? Is that how your mother raised you?”
“···You seem to have a death wish.”
“Come at me then. And this time, don’t use your Gift to tuck tail and run.”
“You son of a bitch······.”

The atmosphere plummeted. Zhang Zidong’s face hardened as he fixed me with a glare, killing intent radiating from him.
He was only watching the Prime Minister’s expression anyway.
I could snap his neck right now without so much as glancing at the President.
That’s the difference between us.
I waited calmly to see what he’d do.
It was the Chinese Prime Minister who stopped Zhang Zidong as his body tensed. The Prime Minister tapped his fingers on the table, and Zhang Zidong leaned toward him. After hearing something whispered in his ear, the man swallowed his anger and sat back down.
Coward.
I couldn’t figure out why the President looked at that scene with something like envy.

“Continue the briefing.”

The briefing on Nuri resumed. But throughout, Zhang Zidong’s expression remained sour, and the whole thing ended in awkward silence.
A shame. I was ready to kill him if he’d charged.
Zhang Zidong left with that cold glare fixed on me the entire time, his face drawn tight as a whip-lashed wind. Cheon Myeong-guk approached me, his expression pale.

“Were you doing that on purpose?”
“He’s a dead man anyway—why bother with courtesy? I’m trying to make him angry enough that he’ll request a Sparring Match with 100% certainty.”
“Heh.”
“Still, the fact that he held back suggests they’re planning to create an opportunity during the Exchange Match.”
“That’s our assessment as well. I’m saying this out of an abundance of caution, but you should be careful.”
“Of course. By the way, what happened with what I asked you to do?”

At my words, Cheon Myeong-guk released a sigh he’d been holding back.

“···He safely entered Seoul, we’re told.”
“Good.”
“I’m still uneasy about it, to be honest.”
“It’s fine. The guy’s crazy on the inside, but the outside’s presentable.”
“It’s the inside part that’s making me uneasy.”
“I’ll talk some sense into him. Don’t worry.”

What I’d asked Cheon Myeong-guk to do was bring Berserker to Seoul.

* * *

I’d called Berserker because the President said he wanted to see him sometime.
I’d tried to talk him out of meeting a madman, but the President was quite stubborn. I summoned Berserker to Seoul as a way to kill two birds with one stone—taking care of Zhang Zidong and establishing some security in the process.
What I saw was him standing there in a Safari Hat, Sunglasses, and Mask, breathing in the air deeply.

“Seoul air is nice.”
“How long has it been?”
“Let’s see—I haven’t set foot here since I became a Villain. Must be fifteen years now.”
“You’ve certainly lasted a long time as a Villain.”
“I have no regrets. Every moment since becoming a Villain has been thrilling. Even more so these days.”
“Don’t say things like that.”

He was probably the only one in the world who could say he enjoyed being a Villain. I was so exasperated I thought I’d die. At my reaction, Berserker changed the subject.

“So it’s true the President wants to see me?”
“Yeah, he said you’ve helped us out a few times and he wanted to offer his thanks.”
“Quite an unusual man.”
“No more than you.”
“······.”
“Why?”

I didn’t like the way that creature was staring at me. So I adjusted my Sunglasses. Maybe I didn’t want my disrespectful gaze to be noticed.
The quarreling’s died down. In any case, this one’s perceptive.

“An invitation from the President himself — I should accept it. Thanks to Head Breaker, I’m getting to experience all sorts of things.”
“Listen on the way. There’s work I need you to do.”

As we headed toward Cheongwadae, I explained to Berserker what he’d need to do going forward.

* * *

Once at Cheongwadae, Berserker exchanged greetings with Cheon Myeong-guk and even shared a meal with the President.
The entire process unfolded in absolute secrecy. In the public eye, Berserker was still perceived as a vicious Villain. Until that perception improved, his existence would remain undisclosed to the outside world.

“The world’s really changed. I even got to hear the President’s thanks.”
“You like that?”
“Like it? Yeah. It beats being hunted down like before.”
“Then why not move into the city permanently?”
“Don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“I like my freedom. If I became a citizen, all sorts of constraints would try to bind me. And if I resist them, conflict erupts again.”
“Fair point.”

It’s an age where you can’t have everything. Truth is, I’d like to act freely like Berserker does, but I’ve been holding back tremendously.
Looking at it this way, Berserker really is living the ideal life.
Being able to live without restraint — that’s something I genuinely envy.

“Can you kill the Chinese Superhuman?”
“His escape technique is annoying, but it won’t be difficult.”
“If anyone else said that, I’d call them insane. But hearing it from you, I believe it. This should be interesting.”
“Stay close to the President in case anyone else acts up there.”
“So I’m the entertainment?”
“Then should I put on a good show for free?”

Berserker would guard the President from an appropriate distance, ready for any contingency. Zhang Zidong might have brought troublemakers with him.
Pure contingency planning.
Actually, if they do act up, all the better. I can just kill them all right there.

“Have you opened Man Dok Bul Chim?”
“…Not yet.”
“Really? You’re not lying about opening it?”
“No.”

I stared hard, but Berserker’s expression didn’t change.
Seems like he’s telling the truth. Too bad.

“Is it because Man Dok Bul Chim has a high Level, making it hard to open?”
“Maybe.”
“There must be certain conditions needed.”

Even if I tried to copy Man Dok Bul Chim, it would only be possible if he opened the Gift. A legendary Gift indeed — opening it doesn’t seem easy. I racked my brain trying to figure out how to open it, but no clear method came to mind.
It’d be nice if I could find a way to force it open.
Should I run an experiment?

“…Don’t look at me like that. I can see all your strange ideas.”
“What? There’s nothing strange. I’m telling you, there isn’t.”

Even as I said that, Berserker’s wariness didn’t ease.
I was just thinking about how to copy it. Opening up his chest a little should be fine, shouldn’t it? But with his guard up like this, talking more would only make him run. I’ll bring it up again next time.
In the meantime, we arrived at the hotel where he would be staying. A five-star establishment.

“It’s been a while since I’ve stayed in a hotel.”
“Didn’t you say camping was nice?”
“It doesn’t compare to the comfort of a hotel, no matter what I said before.”
“Is that so?”
“From now on, never compare camping and hotels again. Never.”

Having said that, he strode into the hotel with purpose.
And the day of the Exchange Match arrived.

* * *

Cheon Myeong-guk wanted to invite as many hunters as possible to prevent the Chinese Delegation from acting recklessly if something went wrong during my match with Zhang Zidong.
The process involved intense negotiations, and a compromise was reached on a reasonable number.
In the end, Jung Da-hyun and her team from the Villain Suppression Team were selected.
My influence played a role in that decision as well.
My match with Zhang Zidong was ultimately a clash between Level 8 Hunters, and it was the kind of spectacle from which observers could gain considerable insight. It was only natural to look after people I knew.
I arrived first with Berserker and soon spotted Jung Da-hyun approaching. She wore a casual white loose-fit shirt and black dress pants.
Jung Da-hyun greeted me with a nod, then turned to Berserker with a bow.

“Hello, Berserker.”
“How did you recognize me?”
“I could sense your presence. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You sensed my presence? Interesting.”

Like Berserker, whose eyes gleamed with intrigue, I nodded in agreement. Through abundant real-world experience, her senses continued to expand and sharpen. It was a sign that she was approaching the threshold of Level 7.

“We should set a date soon. With a bit more training, you’ll reach Level 7.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“As for me, I’ll just think of it as gaining a new hobby. With all these eyes on us, I should make my way over there.”

Berserker headed toward a spot at a comfortable distance from the President.
Jung Da-hyun glanced around the venue, then fixed her gaze on the Chinese Delegation and spoke.

“There’s something about today’s Exchange Match that feels… tense.”
“They must feel like they have no choice but to win.”

The resolve of the Chinese reserve Awakened Ones who came for the Exchange Match was on an entirely different level from the Americans. Even their bearing was resolute.
Lose and get dragged into the coal mines, apparently.

“What’s your assessment?”
“They’re quite skilled, but not quite at the American level.”
“Still, I’m getting something from them———”
“I’d call it fifty-fifty.”
“That’s a generous evaluation.”
“I trained them, after all.”

And they would have grown further through the Exchange Match with the Americans.
The experience of achieving victory against an opponent stronger than oneself was something money couldn’t buy. Moreover, that sense of accomplishment served as vital nourishment during a period of rapid growth.

“And today should bring some interesting entertainment.”
“Entertainment?”
“If the atmosphere feels off, head toward Berserker. He may be insane, but his skills are beyond question.”
“···Understood.”

She didn’t ask further, assuming I had nothing more to add.
As preparations for the Exchange Match proceeded amid this tense atmosphere, Zhang Zidong entered late, looked around the venue, and approached us.
His gaze fixed on Jung Da-hyun.

“Well, aren’t you pretty?”
“······.”
“How about coming to China? You seem like a Awakened One of considerable caliber. I could train you.”
“······.”
“Is it because of that half-baked one next to you? He’ll be dead soon anyway, so let’s talk again then.”

Zhang Zidong rambled on to himself and then drifted away.
There was no doubt he’d said something completely strange.
But looking at Jung Da-hyun, her expression seemed utterly unbothered.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“From the look in his eyes, it seems like he was complimenting me.”
“You don’t speak Chinese?”
“No, I don’t.”

So he was just rambling to himself. That might’ve even been his dying words.
After going through a few preliminary formalities, the Exchange Match began in earnest.
China held an overall advantage in strength, but the individual matchups were closely contested.
Whether Korean or Chinese, the students gave their all in each bout.
They lost the first and second matchups regrettably, but China suffered their first loss in the third.
The atmosphere froze solid when a Chinese student stepped up in front of Zhang Zidong.

Crack!

The sharp sound of impact, and the Chinese student who’d taken the slap to the face went down. Despite the tremendous pain that must’ve followed, he got up immediately and took a fighting stance.

“Worthless bastard! You have superior skill and can’t win?”
“······.”

The student endured Zhang Zidong’s torrent of abuse silently. Meanwhile, the fourth matchup began, and the Chinese student threw himself into it with gritted teeth. Still, there was a loser, and each time, he took another slap from Zhang Zidong and another lecture.
Watching it, I clicked my tongue.
Was this meant to inflict pain, or was it instruction?
In my view, it was neither.
If you’re going to beat someone, at least break both their legs so they feel it in their body. If you’re going to teach them, then carve into them why they lost. Either way, there’s no thought behind it.

“Still, doing that in front of everyone is a bit······.”

Jung Da-hyun has changed a lot.
She used to feel sorry for students being punished.
It’s a good change. Pity doesn’t improve one’s skill, after all.
The Exchange Match was winding down toward its conclusion. Yang Ju-hyeok, who should’ve been preparing for his match, approached me.

“As expected, someone of your caliber would have a stunning beauty beside you.”

He looked back and forth between Jung Da-hyun and me in admiration. This boy has a remarkable talent for landing a compliment.

“What do you want?”
“They say my opponent is an ace.”
“So?”
“If I win, would you grant me a request?”
“Stop talking nonsense and go.”

Should I just beat him a few times and make him forfeit?

“Please, sir. They say my opponent is the Commerce Commissioner’s son? Apparently he’s on a completely different level. For me to beat someone like that, don’t I need some incentive?”
“I don’t care whether you win or lose.”

I don’t care even if he dies. Does he really think I’d look after a student? He’s not even my student.
This one’s pretty far gone himself.
Jung Da-hyun, who’d been watching from the sidelines, quietly interjected.

“Choi Jun-ho, why don’t you hear what he wants before you decide?”

The man was too soft-hearted for his own good. If Jung Da-hyun knew what Yang Ju-hyeok had done at the Academy, she’d probably be the first one to beat him senseless.

“Spout any more nonsense, and you’ll be fighting me—not the Commerce Commissioner’s son.”
“Oh? That’s actually what I was hoping for.”
“What?”
“If I win, would you agree to another sparring match with me?”
“With you?”
“But you’d use only one hand.”

What was wrong with this bastard? After taking a beating like that from me, he wanted to spar again? Did a few blows scramble his brains?
He wanted to get beaten—I couldn’t refuse that.
I accepted by offering him advice about his opponent.

“Your opponent—he’s got too much killing intent for his skill level. He must’ve been lording it over weaker opponents. Crush him from the start.”
“You got it!”

He walked off with a grin plastered across his face. Had his tastes really changed that much?

“Look at him working so hard—it’s good to see,” she said.

Jung Da-hyun was watching with evident approval.

* * *

Zhang Zidong exhaled silently in frustration.
The Commerce Commissioner’s son had lost. Even if every other student here fell, he should have won against that one. Losing meant punishment was required. But Zhang Zidong couldn’t touch the Commerce Commissioner’s son.
He felt the sidelong glances of the students, and irritation crawled up his spine as he imagined what they were thinking. After all that posturing, why had he lost?
As Zhang Zidong felt his pride crumble, his eyes met the Prime Minister’s. He saw the slightest nod and took a step forward. He needed somewhere to vent this rage.

“It would be a shame to end the entertainment here. Shall we have our superhumans from China and Korea spar?”

Surprise bloomed on faces that had been uncertain a moment before.
The relaxed atmosphere snapped taut again.
Zhang Zidong fixed his gaze on Choi Jun-ho.

“If you’re frightened, you’re welcome to run.”

But Zhang Zidong knew better. That one would never back down.
An arrogant fool who didn’t know his place.
Using his Gift in that first encounter had been a mere mistake. This time, he’d kill him for certain.
As he studied the irritating bastard’s face, his gaze shifted to the woman standing beside him. She was beautiful. Taking her as a prize after crushing her companion would be fitting. She couldn’t possibly resist his strength.
Zhang Zidong waited with unhurried confidence for his opponent’s answer.
After a brief commotion, the President’s grave expression softened as he listened to those around him, then nodded.
The match was on.
Moments later, Choi Jun-ho approached the arena.

“Is this how you commit suicide these days?”
“You die today.”
“I don’t speak Chinese, but I get the gist. Why do all doomed men say the same thing? Anyway—never mind.”

Choi Jun-ho’s laughter was edged with killing intent.

“Just die.”

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