The Crazy Villain Regains His Sanity - Chapter 57

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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 57

Zhang Ci-dong’s weapon was the Great Saber, the most commonly seen blade in China. I recalled hearing that he treasured it dearly because the Premier had bestowed it upon him directly. In my previous life, I’d shredded the thing to pieces.
Gazing upon the ornate Great Saber—so meticulously maintained that a chill radiated from its edge—I smiled with satisfaction, then began speaking fluent Korean.
What, you didn’t think I could speak it?

“Draw your weapon, amateur.”
“This is my weapon.”

When I held up my empty hands, Zhang Ci-dong’s brows twitched.

“I know your primary weapon is a blade.”
“Which blade?”
“I know your real identity is Mal-sozja.”
“That’s not me.”
“No?”
“If you’ve got proof I’m someone else, produce it.”
……
“You’re just insisting without any evidence at all.”

Somewhere along the way, everyone had become certain that I was Mal-sozja.
Terrifying bastards. They figure it must be me because two Level 8s can’t appear at once, is that it?
No matter—I had no evidence to worry about, so I denied it outright. What was he going to do about it?

“Well, if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die anyway.”
“It’s quite gratifying when minds align like this.”

He made no pretense of this being a mere exhibition match—he made no attempt to conceal his killing intent.
Good. We were of the same mind.
A match where I would never die but my opponent absolutely had to—truly, a delightful bout.

#%^#@*

Zhang Ci-dong cursed—I couldn’t make out the words—and his Great Saber flashed with light before surging toward me.

* * *

The moment Choi Jun-ho and Zhang Ci-dong’s match began, delegations from various nations stirred into action.
The Chinese Delegation took formation around the Premier, while the Villain Specialist Team repositioned toward where Cheongwadae personnel stood. They maintained a slight distance since they had their own security detail. And Jung Da-hyun approached Berserker.

“Berserker.”
“You repositioned yourself at an opportune moment.”
“I was following orders, but—did you know the two of them would face off?”
“I did. The reason a Villain like me is here is to prepare for contingencies.”
“I see.”

Da-hyun’s expression grew complicated. She understood that Choi Jun-ho had offered her that hint out of consideration.
And yet she felt a sting of chagrin. She knew—even she had to admit it was excessive. Was it because she hadn’t yet earned his trust?
The answer was simple: she was still too weak. She needed to grow stronger, faster, and prove herself worthy of that trust.
Seeing her thus, Berserker spoke.

“Don’t overthink it. For now, burn this duel into your eyes. It’s a clash between Superhumans that other Hunters have been so desperate to witness.”
“Yes.”
“Watch carefully and listen. I’ll explain their intentions to you.”

At the prospect of commentary from a Level 8 Superhuman, Da-hyun’s ears perked up with keen attention.
At that moment, Zhang Ci-dong struck first.

“The Chinese Superhuman moves first. He’s trying to seize the initiative by exploiting his weapon’s advantage.”

The Great Saber shot forward like a meteor, leaving no afterimage as it reached straight for Choi Jun-ho’s face.
Watching it, one could only think that his head would be pierced clean through—a breathtaking moment.
In that instant, Choi Jun-ho’s form blurred and he slipped past the saber by the narrowest margin, reaching out his hand. Zhang Ci-dong read his intention instantly and withdrew the saber, leaving Jun-ho’s hand to slash through empty air. Having completely shattered Jun-ho’s plan, Zhang Ci-dong drove the saber back in from an unexpected angle—a thrust aimed at exploiting a gap in Jun-ho’s defense, ignoring the laws of force entirely. Yet Choi Jun-ho sidestepped it with ease.
In the blink of an eye, the distance between them narrowed and widened repeatedly as a dozen collisions erupted in succession.

“Against anyone but Choi Jun-ho, that attack would’ve seized the initiative. But the Chinese Superhuman’s intent doesn’t work on him. He just calmly breaks through even the apparent advantages and presses in. So what would I do? I’d add unpredictability, probe for openings—or maybe just push harder regardless of taking wounds. No, that way I’d end up with a shattered heart. So I’d need to employ a different method, hmm…”
“……”

While Berserker continued his self-directed commentary, Jung Da-hyun remained absorbed in the clash between the two Superhumans. Even she, nearly Level 7, found their movements too swift and intricate to track properly with her eyes.

Crash! Bang! Boom-boom!

The moment Zhang Ci-dong’s Great Saber blurred, a deafening roar erupted as countless Force fragments exploded in all directions.
The sight of Choi Jun-ho deflecting them all was awe-inspiring, and Zhang Ci-dong’s ability to sustain his offensive momentum was equally impressive.
The vague image of what a Superhuman was had begun to crystallize as she watched their battle.

‘This is what a true Superhuman duel looks like.’

Seeing it with her own eyes, she finally understood why they were called Superhumans.
The framework of the Awakened world she’d known was shattering into fragments.
If she had faced either of them, what would have happened?
Even with good fortune, she might have blocked one or two attacks—but the third would have taken her head clean off.
Now she glimpsed, however faintly, why nations were so desperate to cultivate Superhumans, why their treatment exceeded all imagination.
By then, having finished his self-inquiry, Berserker resumed his commentary.

“The Chinese Superhuman has real skill. He’s desperately trying to twist the momentum before it flows entirely to Choi Jun-ho.”
“Isn’t Jun-ho at a disadvantage?”

Berserker’s gaze turned toward Jung Da-hyun.

“Why do you think so?”
“Because it looks like Zhang Ci-dong has control over the offensive.”
“Heh, so it appeared that way? I suppose I haven’t given you much confidence.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Whenever the afterimages and collision shockwaves occurred, it had looked to her as if Zhang Ci-dong held the reins of the battle.
After laughing for a while, Berserker spoke.

“Control can be held by one’s own hand, or deliberately surrendered. Or rather, in this case, ‘allowed’ would be the better word. A rather sinister temperament.”
“Why surrender it on purpose?”

Berserker gestured with his eyes toward Zhang Ci-dong, who was pressing forward relentlessly.

“Sum it up in two words and you get ‘Assessment.'”
“Assessment?”
“What do you think is Choi Jun-ho’s greatest strength?”
“Overwhelming power? Flawless technique?”
“Those are strengths, certainly. But the advantage I see in him is different. It’s the ability to annihilate a designated target with perfect precision, without the slightest margin for error.”
“Annihilate……”

The alias Mal-sozja suddenly crossed her mind—perhaps because the connotation was similar.
Mal-sozja and Choi Jun-ho aligned in only a few respects: both were Level 8 Superhumans who appeared around the same time, both traveled to Ansan around the same period, and both wielded cruel technique. Beyond that, everything differed.

“Choi Jun-ho’s annihilation ability connects to what I called Assessment. Right now, he’s gauging the opponent’s true strength. In that process, he probes and analyzes. He reads not just their current capacity, but even the variables they might deploy. Only once his assessment is complete does he move to act.”

Berserker’s smile deepened.

“Just like this.”

Crash!

The sound that just rang out was unmistakably different from every collision that had come before. Zhang Ci-dong reversed the Great Saber that had been knocked away, but Choi Jun-ho was already pouring through the gap.
A glimmer of crackling electricity danced across his palm before surging forward at terrifying speed.
Zhang Ci-dong’s expression began to shift. Moments ago, he’d been brimming with exhilaration as he dominated Choi Jun-ho; now anxiety was spreading across his face.

“Anyone who’s faced Choi Jun-ho knows the feeling—from start to finish, dancing to his tune. He crushes his opponents with absolute despair, annihilating them entirely. The Chinese Superhuman’s fate is sealed. Will his neck snap? Will his body shatter? Or will his heart break like mine? He always finds a new way to kill. Any of them would be… exhilarating. Kekeke!”
“……”

From that moment, the tide began to shift decisively.

* * *

‘This won’t do.’

Zhang Ci-dong felt his blood turning to ice. Choi Jun-ho’s strength exceeded his imagination.
He’d experienced Choi Jun-ho’s power at the Airport. The man had been called inexperienced, yet he was far better trained than anticipated.
Still, Zhang Ci-dong had never once entertained the thought of defeat. He was the People’s Republic of China’s greatest prodigy, its strongest Superhuman. The world didn’t know it yet, but he awaited the day he would announce himself as the world’s mightiest.
What he’d shown at the Airport was merely a courtesy—to demonstrate his true strength on a grander stage and deliver exquisite death to that inexperienced fool.
But he was losing ground?
To some Superhuman who’d appeared in this insignificant nation?
It was impossible.
Zhang Ci-dong clenched his teeth and squeezed out more Force. Tremendous power surged through the Great Saber, a vortex of strength that could tear Monsters apart with a single stroke erupting from the blade.

Shatter!

Yet it was crumbling like a sandcastle in Choi Jun-ho’s hands. What was wrong? His Force? His strength? His technique? The flawless sword strike he’d thought perfect proved utterly powerless before Choi Jun-ho. He’d kept denying it, but now it was becoming undeniable. There was only one reason his wrung-out attacks were being stopped.

This couldn’t be real. Had he fallen victim to some mental attack? Rejecting the truth before his eyes, Zhang Ci-dong drew upon every ounce of strength until he felt his entire body buckling under the strain.

Whether I’d faced him twenty years later or now, he was much the same.
Considering he’d been barely under sixty back then and could still maintain his peak strength, it was highly likely he’d grown satisfied at his current level.
Satisfied with merely this degree of power. If he wanted to grow stronger, he should’ve turned Villain. He was pathetic.
His method of attack was unchanged from twenty years past or present—relentlessly pressing forward with overwhelming Force channeled through the Great Saber.
I’d sparred with him several more times, wondering if he was hiding something, but it seemed this was the extent of it.

He tried using the saber as a shield to evade my attacks a few times, but after doing so twice more, only the hilt remained, dangling uselessly in his grip.
He’d sworn to the Premier that he would cherish it more than his own life, yet it seemed his own survival mattered more after all.

“…….”

Now fear hung plain and clear across his face. I’d seen that look before, in my past life. Beneath all that arrogance, he was brittle, fragile as spun glass. The expression suited him perfectly.

“You won’t declare defeat, will you? Hmm? Only one of us walks away from this, isn’t that the deal? And frankly, even if you did concede, I have no intention of letting you live.”
“Ugh—!”

I seized his right wrist as he tried to stumble backward with a moan.
His Force was depleted to its limit; he couldn’t block the Mine.

Crack!

“Aaaah!”

Though he struggled, his wrist snapped and the blade fell from his grip. When I reached for his left hand, he thrashed out with his fist in desperate resistance. It was pathetic—like a child throwing a tantrum.
But resistance was futile.
It was already too late.

Snap!

His left wrist broke as well, both hands shattered. After that, he came apart piece by piece. Each time my Mine-charged hand touched him, cracks spiderwebbed through his bones, fractures spreading wider. He’d burned through his Force reserve from the start, pushing himself to the limit to fight me off, and now depletion left him defenseless. He couldn’t evade my touch.
I’d made it clear I wouldn’t accept a surrender. He had only one choice left.
Flight.
Zhang Ci-dong was a Hunter with a Teleportation Gift, so he’d make a desperate escape the moment my assault slackened.
His eyes flashed as he barely dodged my hand reaching for his throat, stumbling backward.
He’d spotted his chance to run.

“Ugh—aaaaaah!”

Zhang Ci-dong spun on his heel and began putting distance between us.
He knew my Mine only triggered on contact with his body, so he was backing away to activate his Teleportation.
I’d expected as much.
He’d done the same in my past life.
So the moment he retreated, the Broken Saber—the blade he’d treasured so dearly in life—lay ready in my hand. Though the blade edge was chipped and rattling, it was a legendary weapon; Force still shimmered from it.
I unleashed the Blade Storm Gift on him without mercy as he prepared to Teleport.
The Blade Storm was far faster than any escape.
Zhang Ci-dong was caught in the whirlwind of blades the instant his Teleportation activated.
The space that had opened before me snapped shut, and where it reopened was where the Delegation’s students sat. There must have been something there to serve as an anchor for his Teleportation.
But what emerged from the rift was not Zhang Ci-dong himself—only a spray of blood and shredded tissue.

“…….”

The Chinese Delegation stared in blank horror at what had once been Zhang Ci-dong’s blood and flesh, now raining down.
China’s youngest Superhuman, the guardian of the Northeast 3 Provinces, had been shredded beyond recognition, his very form unmade.
Shock and terror cascaded through the room.
From my perspective as his opponent, it was unremarkable.
Isn’t this what can happen in a duel? Being torn to pieces?
If you didn’t understand that risk, you shouldn’t have agreed to the match in the first place.
In any case, I’ve gained valuable experience today. I trust I won’t make the same mistake next time.
But looking at the Chinese Premier’s face, it seemed he had no intention of accepting that reasoning.
His plump cheeks quivered, and unable to contain his rage, he glared at me and shouted.

“Yi-ik! Kill that bastard!”

Kill? Who? Surely not me?
That surely came to pass.

“Aaaaaah!”

At the Premier’s command, every Hunter and student in the Delegation, indiscriminately, threw themselves at me.
A new method of purge, then.
I’ve never shown mercy to those who rush at me with the intent to kill.
I lifted the Premier’s Great Saber and unleashed Blade Storm upon them.
This Gift—a fusion of my Unique Gift Slash and Nuri’s Legendary Grade Blade Storm—erupted in a tremendous force storm, shredding all who charged forward into blood and chunks of flesh.

“H-hieek!”
“U-uaagh!”

I hunted down even those trying to flee, killing them all. The only ones left standing were those who had remained still from the beginning.
If these ones survived while the others died, that wouldn’t be fair to those who came before.
I approached with the intention of dealing with the remaining ones as well.
That’s when the President’s voice reached me.

“Stop, please. Those people were standing still.”

Oblivious fool. If he’d spoken just thirty seconds later, I would’ve finished them all.
I was about to pretend I hadn’t heard and swing the blade anyway when my eyes met the Premier’s. I quickly lowered my head to avoid his gaze, and as he retreated, I clicked my tongue softly.
Caught.

“Yes. I was only planning to deal with those who rushed at me.”

Without hesitation, I threw the sword to the ground and offered a reassuring smile.
The delegation flinched even more. Some of them had even soiled themselves.
I’d meant the smile as a sign they could relax—that I’d spare them—but was this reaction really necessary?

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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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