The Crazy Villain Regains His Sanity - Chapter 80

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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 80

The looks directed at me were kaleidoscopic. Some held shock. Others burned with rage.
I’ve never liked dragging things out. I prefer to settle matters where they stand. In that sense, this gathering—with influential figures from nations across the globe—was an opportunity to resolve tedious business all at once.
I was tired of hearing people scattered across the world second-guess my abilities from a distance.
So I set the stage.
If anyone had grievances, now was the time to air them.
But how boldly would they speak with the person in question standing right in front of them?

“Go ahead. Speak.”

The first to raise his hand, breaking the mutual hesitation, was a middle-aged man with typical Germanic features and brown hair.

“I am Schwandtner.”

Schwandtner was a Czech Superhuman and a staunch advocate of the EU-centered defense system.
He’d been a Superhuman for over a decade, and his fiery temperament and reckless tongue made him a troublemaker who stirred up incidents wherever he went.
I recalled what he’d spouted about me—that South Korea had fabricated me as a scarecrow to cover up Kim Young-hwan’s death, that my genius was bound to be exposed soon, that a small peninsula nation was overreaching itself. He’d spewed nothing but vitriol.
When I hunted Nuri, he’d claimed I was exaggerating a common Hazard at Stage Eight. Then he went hunting for a Plus Stage that appeared in Czech Republic and got his ass handed to him.
He’s the type who sees the world as small, judges everything by his own narrow rules, interprets all phenomena through a tiny lens. Come to think of it, I’m not so different. The only difference is I have the strength to overcome it—he doesn’t.
Real-time interpretation made understanding his words easy enough.

“Speak.”
“There’s a significant gap between Iron Mind’s testimony and when you finished hunting Nuri. How do you explain that?”

Iron Mind was the epithet for Lee Chan-taek.

“I didn’t kill Nuri right away.”
“Didn’t kill her?”
“I found the way she used her Gift and deployed Force fascinating. So I captured her and tested how long she could endure. When she couldn’t take it anymore and broke, I put her down.”
……

The hall fell into silence. If a Monster had already been subdued, why wouldn’t I run a few experiments? Had word of the Brainwashing gotten out?
Though it would be frightening for someone to tame and keep a Stage Eight Plus Hazard with them.

“You suppressed her, and then experimented on her?”
“Yeah.”
“…That’s nonsense.”

Schwandtner’s eyes wavered violently. I couldn’t understand why people these days called the truth a lie even when you spelled it out.

“Don’t ask if you won’t believe the answer.”
“I can’t believe it. Superhumans from various nations nearly died facing Plus Stage Monsters. But you claim you hunted one alone and ran experiments on her?”
“Don’t believe it if you don’t want to. Or come at me.”
“What?”
“You said my abilities could be verified with a few fingers. You claimed I was a scarecrow, and now you’re scared? What’s wrong, Swamper?”

Schwandtner’s expression crumpled at the word “Swamper.”
Swamper was a mockery of his Gift, Mud generation—a term for someone who does menial, lowly work.

“…Fine. I’ve been curious about your skills for a long time.”
“Wait…!”

The moment killing intent flooded the room, startled delegates scrambled to intervene—but Schwandtner moved faster.
He launched himself from his seat and drove forward, extending his hand. Force surged like a whirlwind as I met it with a sharp parry. Weapons were forbidden in this venue, but a Superhuman of his caliber could manifest their martial prowess without steel.
Those who claim they couldn’t fight at full strength are just making excuses—the refuge of the defeated.
I surged forward to meet him head-on, but stopped short. The ground beneath me had turned to marsh, clinging to my feet and dragging me back.
It was barely more than a nuisance. Under normal circumstances, I would have loaded my feet with Mines and breezed through it.
But I had Man Dok Bul Chim. It had malfunctioned for a moment, but in a situation like this, the legendary Gift displayed its true power. It dissolved the marsh’s Debuff that gripped my feet and freed my movement.
The moment I moved without obstruction, Schwandtner’s eyes widened.

Crack!

Schwandtner’s Force shattered, and my Mine reached him point-blank. Even when he condensed his Force, the power of my Gift Mine held a decisive advantage.

“Ugh!”

With a stifled groan, he crossed his arms and barely deflected it. True enough—at the level of a Superhuman, Mines don’t penetrate cleanly.
But compared to his defense, his offense was clumsy. An awkwardness born from his primary weapon being a greatsword.
If I died here, I’d lament in the afterlife that I fell without a proper weapon.
So what?
If he’d been planning to close in like this, he should have trained bare-knuckle fighting. There’s no excuse that doesn’t lead to a grave.
I’m operating under the same penalty, fighting him unarmed.

“A weak thing with a loose mouth only hastens its own death.”
“Aaaaagh!”

Schwandtner gathered Force against my Mines and detonated it.

Boom!

With a sound like a balloon bursting, a terrible Force shockwave swept through the arena. In an instant, the venue became chaos—yet there were no casualties. Several Superhumans who had come forward earlier moved to protect the dignitaries, dispersing the shockwave.
He’d exploded all his power at once and pushed me back momentarily, but that was all. My hands pursued Schwandtner with relentless intensity, and finally I seized his collar.

“Gack!”

Choking, he let out a strained cry. He resisted fiercely with Force, but at this pressure, my grip didn’t budge an inch.
Just as I was about to snap his neck with my left hand, I caught sight of a figure rushing in from the side and was forced to release Schwandtner’s collar.

Crack!

Malformed Root Tendrils snapped as they tried to ensnare my legs. Instead of inducing a status ailment, I felt a force that burrowed into my body as relentlessly as Mines would.
I shifted my gaze to see a figure with an impossibly lithe frame and beautiful blonde hair watching me.
It was Laura Anne, a German Superhuman and Europe’s greatest prospect at thirty-four years old. She’d been registered as a Superhuman around the same time I was.
I couldn’t understand why she’d intervened—she’d never left negative comments about me, and had even praised me as a promising candidate.

“Why are you getting involved?”
“Schwandtner is a valuable asset to the European Union. I can’t let him die like this. If he dies, only the League and Monsters benefit.”
“That’s not your decision to make. That’s mine.”
“But I can still interfere. If it comes to that, I can inflict lethal damage on you.”
“I’ll interpret that as you wanting to die together.”

Without another word, I charged at Laura. In an instant, I felt the Root Tendrils constricting my legs, but I shattered them with a swift kick.
Even as they broke apart, fragments clung to my legs and tried to burrow inward.
The method was entirely unexpected—quite surprising. This operated much like the principle of Mines.
Now that I thought about it, I’d heard that Laura Anne was a disciple of Franz, who wielded Mines. Had she integrated that subtlety into her own Gift? For someone so young to have become a Superhuman, her talent was exceptional.
But with Man Dok Bul Chim dissolving status ailments and my entire body commanding the intricacies of Mines, Laura’s Gift posed no serious threat.
How much blood had I spilled with these hands? If anything, I’d likely wielded Mines longer and killed more people than Franz himself. Man Dok Bul Chim nullified the status effects while Mines shattered every burrow-force she sent my way.
With every obstruction cleared, my hands reached Laura.

Crack!

“Hgh!”

As the Root Tendrils sprouting from her fingernails snapped, a suppressed groan escaped Laura’s lips. I brushed aside her clawing hand and reached toward Schwandtner. In that interval, he’d recovered enough to generate a Force Blade from his Ballpoint Pen, blocking my Mine.
Pressing hard, I alternated between Schwandtner on one side and Laura on the other.

“Hack!”
“Ugh!”

The Force Blade and Ballpoint Pen shattered into fragments as Schwandtner’s chest caved inward. He spun backward, blood spraying from his lips. I’d already shattered Laura’s arm with a Mine and driven another deep into her shoulder. She was a Superhuman, so the damage didn’t come apart immediately—she held on with stubborn resistance.
But the moment she’d opened herself to my attack, the end was already written. While Laura scrambled to recover, Schwandtner’s shins, thighs, hands, wrists, and elbows crumbled one after another.
The very foundation from which he could exert his strength had dissolved.
I saw the resolve drain from his eyes, replaced by something raw and primal—fear.
It was over.
That’s when I felt it—a tremendous force bearing down on me with violent momentum.
I pivoted and brought my hands together, unleashing a Blade Storm. With a deep rumble, the massive boulder shattered into a thousand pieces.
The fragments reformed as though drawn by an invisible magnet, their surfaces knitting together until they reshaped into a towering Black man.
Traore—a French Superhuman of Malian origin. An immigrant who’d climbed to the pinnacle of French society, he stood as both a symbol of immigrant success and the handyman who cleaned up Europe’s dirtiest work. His alias, known across the world, was the Stone Golem.

“I’d prefer it if you’d stop. They’re valuable teammates.”
“I commend your camaraderie in caring for your teammates.”

Traore’s expression brightened at my words. He’d clearly misunderstood my meaning.
If someone else had been watching, how would they judge this? Wouldn’t they call me insane for taking on three Superhumans?
I didn’t care. I wasn’t insane.
Back when I was a Hazard, I’d survived situations far harder and darker than this.
Three Superhumans standing in my way meant nothing to me.

“And in honor of that friendship, I’ll kill all three of you.”

* * *

‘What the fuck! What the fuck!’

James Reid was screaming inside his head. He couldn’t tell if what he was witnessing was a dream or reality.
He’d picked up Korean recently, and now the vernacular slang tumbled from his lips as his eyes remained locked on the battle.

‘This is seriously insane!’

He knew Choi Jun-ho was extraordinary. He understood the constraint—a limited space where the Superhumans facing him couldn’t fully unleash their power.
But this was pushing it.
Schwandtner, who pulled his enemies into an endless quagmire. Laura Anne, Germany’s rising star Superhuman. Traore, France’s cleanup artist.
Every single one of them was a Superhuman without equal.
Yet Choi Jun-ho was overwhelming all three.
At this point, Jun-ho had already proven his worth. If you needed a Plus-tier Monster to hunt down Superhumans, then overwhelming three of them was equivalent to proving he’d hunted Nuri alone.
Schwandtner’s Debuff, Laura’s creative applications, Traore’s weight and raw power—all of it was utterly helpless before Choi Jun-ho.

‘It’s like watching Black Hound and Hell Master rolled into one.’

As James Reid recalled the two legendary Villains who’d founded the League, a hand touched his shoulder. He flinched and turned to see Guillermo, whose gaze never left the battlefield.

“You saved my life. If I’d charged in, I’d be dead.”

Back at their first meeting, Guillermo had even braced himself for a collision with Choi Jun-ho.
But if they’d actually clashed, he could have guessed the outcome.
Now that his efforts were finally being acknowledged, he felt relief wash over him and called out for help.

“The problem isn’t that. We have to stop him.”
“I’ll go.”
“I’ll help too. We just need to hold him back.”

James Reid, who’d been observing the situation, charged into the battle alongside Guillermo.
The power of the Blade Storm channeled through his palm was beyond description in mere words.
Like a force intent on shattering everything in its path—each blade sang with a deep, palpable killing intent.

‘Dumb as hell! I’m optimized purely and simply for obliterating enemies!’

It was only a single strike, yet James Reid shuddered at the killing intent woven through it.

“…….”

Guillermo felt it too, and his expression hardened.
Once the two men dissipated the shockwave from Choi Jun-ho’s Blade Storm, the three superhumans retreated.
Schwandtner’s injuries looked severe, but mercifully, his life seemed intact.
James Reid shouted.

“Jun-ho! Stop it!”
“You want to die too?”
“Just cool it, man!”
“Why should I?”
“This whole mess happened because we didn’t understand you! So give us time to get to know you! Then the misunderstanding will clear up! Killing isn’t the answer! That’s what villains do!”

Though what he was doing seemed worse than any villain’s work.
James Reid had learned that the only words that could rein in Choi Jun-ho were ‘villain’ and ‘soybean paste stew’—so he deliberately invoked the former.
And there was a reaction.

“…….”

James Reid watched anxiously as Choi Jun-ho fell silent. He’d crossed a line, interjected where he shouldn’t have—but he had no grounds to stop him if he was about to push further.
So he deployed his second killing move: the soybean paste stew card.

“I’ll tell Guillermo and get you a Mexican-style soybean paste stew recipe!”
“……!”
“And I’ll work in some Nordic and Mediterranean styles too! How’s that?”

Was this really his trump card? A Stanford doctorate’s improvisation amounted to nothing more than this?
James Reid felt a wave of self-loathing for being unable to conjure anything better.
But then a miracle occurred.
Choi Jun-ho withdrew his killing intent.

“…I was going to quit anyway since I’ve already lost my taste for it. Just keep that promise.”
“Trust me! I’ll hook you up with an incredibly delicious recipe.”

Is this real?
James Reid watched Choi Jun-ho back off and exhaled with relief.

* * *

After that, the event wrapped up in a somewhat tense atmosphere.
Throughout the proceedings, I felt the sharp, stinging stares directed at me.
Annoying bastards.
I hadn’t managed to kill all three, but there was no great regret. If they’d been of the wrong lineage, I’d have killed them by any means necessary—but I’m a superhuman with normal reasoning, so I’ll settle for straightening out their attitude a bit. And if they still don’t behave, I can always kill them then.
People make mistakes, after all.
And everyone deserves a second chance.
I’ve become quite magnanimous, I thought.

“Schwandtner’s going to suffer for a while, though.”

I’d covered his entire body with Mines—evenly—so recovery would take quite some time.
Laura Anne and Traore had lighter injuries, but they wouldn’t be stepping out of line anytime soon.
On reflection, I suppose that was the point all along: making sure they wouldn’t act up again.

“What’s this?”

As I was settling into my room to rest, I sensed a damp, sticky presence.
It was a familiar aura. It was calling to me.
I followed that presence out of the hotel. On a well-maintained walking path, a Black man of about 165 centimeters stood waving at me.
A face I’d already memorized. Diawara, a superhuman from Guinea.

“Good to see you, Jun-ho.”

Surprisingly, he spoke fluent Korean.

“You called for me?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Today’s fight left me wanting more. If Macho Man had shown up just a little later, I could’ve killed them all.”
…….

I listened quietly to see where he was going with this.
After glancing around to confirm we were alone, he lowered his voice.

“I know everything. You’re affiliated with the League, aren’t you?”

What was he talking about?
Taking my silence as affirmation, he began laying out information.

“You’re disguised as a state-affiliated superhuman. I know all about it.”

Do superhumans these days carry their brains outside their skulls? One thing seemed certain: this bastard was connected to the League somehow. Quietly, I activated the voice recorder on my smartphone.

“I’ve met Black Hound before.”
“Oh! Impressive. I’ve never even seen any of the Twelve Zodiacs. Did you wonder why I called you? Want to form an alliance with me? We stir up trouble at this event and eliminate a few superhumans. Then the League will put value on both of us. The League recently developed a secret technique to artificially amplify power.”
“How’d you figure out my connection to the League?”
“Argos told me. He said you’re a genuine villain born to be a villain.”

…That Argos — someday I’d wring his neck without fail.
Listening to Diawara ramble on excitedly, one certainty crystallized in my mind.
There was a reason the League hadn’t recruited him, and as a decentralized organization, information didn’t flow smoothly between its cells.
So he’d only heard old intel and decided to spill everything to me.
But why was he so certain I was League-affiliated?
I’d openly displayed a merciful hand that didn’t kill a single superhuman.
Shouldn’t he think of me as a righteous superhuman instead?

“Argos spouted nonsense again.”
“Haha! The guy speaks fluently, doesn’t he? I think it’s cool.”

Excited and chattering, he finally revealed the critical information.

“I’m also disguised as a state-affiliated superhuman like you. That’s why the League gives me considerable recognition as a spy.”
“I see. A spy.”
“Why are you playing dumb? You’re in the same position as me.”
…….

Same position, my ass.
A ready-made gift had just rolled in on its own.
What did they call this again?
My mind was churning so hard I was only half-listening when he gave me an odd look.

“Why are you smiling?”
“Oh, I just remembered something.”
“What?”
“The Golden Goblin.”

I reached out my hand to him.

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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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