The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 74
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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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The Heavenly Supreme Has Died – Episode 074
“…You refuse?”
In the frozen atmosphere, Dang Gyeong-ak asked me.
His expression as he posed the question was filled with bewilderment and consternation.
If I helped open the Bi-go, he would give me the premium-grade martial treasures inside.
To such a proposal, I immediately spat out a refusal.
That part was a reaction Dang Gyeong-ak could not comprehend.
“Yes. I refuse.”
I spat out another refusal, as if confirming his bewilderment was justified.
“…The terms don’t suit your taste?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
At my words, Dang Gyeong-ak’s brow furrowed deeper.
“May I ask which terms displease you?”
Even in such a situation, Dang Gyeong-ak’s tone and manner remained unchanged.
It meant he was not a man easily shaken by such things.
“The reason is….”
If I were to explain the reason, several things came to mind, but ultimately it was one thing.
“It feels a bit petty.”
“What?”
At my words, Dang Gyeong-ak’s expression changed. Petty. That remark crossed the line in several ways.
The Tang Clan of Sichuan, supreme under heaven.
It was not something one should dare speak to its master.
And Dang Gyeong-ak, who knew this better than anyone,
쿠구그그그그그—!!
immediately began to unleash his aura.
“It seems you must pay more attention to the weight of your words.”
“….”
I swallowed dryly without meaning to. I understood it then for the first time.
That one could infuse words with spiritual force.
‘…My.’
A gasp escaped me. Truly, one could crush and kill a person with sheer aura.
I could realize this by observing Dokuou.
“It is good that you understand your own position, but I would hope you reconsider where exactly you stand.”
Where I stood.
The Tang Clan of Sichuan. In other words, the Dang Clan’s territory, and before me stood Dokuou.
It meant he could kill me whenever he wished.
‘If I misspeak now, I’m dead.’
Certainty gripped me. The chill running down my spine and Dokuou’s gaze told me so.
Cold sweat beaded on my palms.
I clenched my fist slightly and concealed it.
One misstep and I would die. The terror and dread emanating from that reality crashed over me in waves.
Were my fingertips trembling right now?
What about my lips? What expression was I wearing?
My awareness grew hazy.
My five senses felt dulled.
Then.
[Are you afraid?]
Yoo Cheon-gil asked me.
[If you’re afraid, nod. I will help you.]
His voice was lower than usual, as if speaking with genuine sincerity.
If I truly asked, it seemed he would employ any method necessary to assist me.
But.
‘No.’
I shook my head slightly.
I opened my clenched fist.
My fingertips were not trembling.
The cold sweat that had been flowing was no longer perceptible, consumed by the chill.
My dulled senses were returning to me.
The line of death, as they called it.
I had walked the tightrope of death countless times before.
Now, to ask if death frightened me—it did not.
It never had.
Death does not frighten me.
Rather, it is life that terrifies me more.
Struggling to live a better life while facing death.
That was what truly frightened and exhausted me.
So.
“Consider my position, you say?”
I was not afraid of Dokuou now.
“I don’t believe you have the right to speak such words to me.”
“….”
Crackle—! The aura radiating from Dokuou intensified.
I could feel him restraining himself. Close enough that he could snap my neck with a single reach.
Yet the fact that he restrained himself to this degree meant—
‘Either my backing, the Cheonwol Gate, is that formidable,
Or I am that necessary to Dokuou.
“You—”
“No, that’s not it.”
I cut through his words amidst the pressure of his aura and spoke.
“You’re giving me what you should have provided originally and calling it compensation for the commission. Is that really the right thing to do?”
“…!”
My words caused Dokuou’s momentum to falter momentarily.
The relentless pressure that had been bearing down on me twisted roughly.
Its form seemed to reflect Dokuou’s emotions themselves.
Watching that, I let out a quiet chuckle.
The aura that had been trying to bind me had already completely dissipated.
“That’s right.”
“…What do you mean?”
Dokuou played dumb as if he didn’t understand. Looking at his expression alone, I almost believed he genuinely didn’t know.
[Look at that damned bastard.]
Standing right behind me was the very person who had informed me of this situation beforehand.
[I’m certain I heard him speak while I was alive.]
Yoo Cheon-gil had told me this very morning when we arrived at Cheogang.
And I had simply repeated what I heard then directly to Dokuou.
“The lost secret technique of the Dang Clan.”
The moment I spoke those words, Dokuou flinched.
Enjoying his reaction, I continued.
“In exchange for restoring the Ten Thousand Heavens Flower Rain, you promised to give the treasures that exist in your secret vault.”
“….”
“I believe this is what Dokjon promised to the Sword Saint, my master. Am I wrong?”
After I finished speaking, no response came from Dokuou.
However, I could see that his expression was answering for him.
“…How did you….”
Just as Dokuou was about to ask me how I knew that.
“Kekekekeke–!!”
Dang Jichul, who had been quietly observing, suddenly burst into laughter.
“Hahaha. My, my. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen the Dang Clan Lord in such an awkward position.”
“…Elder.”
“Clan Lord. You’ve been caught red-handed.”
Dang Jichul patted Dokuou’s shoulder and approached me.
“Child, how did you come to know that?”
“Does it matter how I came to know it?”
I responded with a slight shift in expression.
“What matters more is the fact that I know about it in the first place.”
“Well said.”
Dang Jichul didn’t deny it and nodded his head.
“If you were displeased, I apologize.”
“No, it’s not particularly displeasing or anything like that.”
Normally, if someone had tried to deceive me, I would have been displeased, but I wasn’t.
‘Even if it were me, I would’ve used that information if I didn’t know it.’
They know what I don’t.
If I knew that and didn’t use it, I’d be an idiot.
So I’m not displeased. However.
“The fact that I possess this information is what matters.”
If they tried to deceive me but I already knew the truth.
“Then you should establish the terms properly now, shouldn’t you?”
Conduct a fair transaction.
This was a warning directed at Dang Gyeong-ak.
I know far more than you think I do.
That sort of warning.
“….”
At my words, Dang Gyeong-ak simply stares at me.
How exactly will he respond?
Will he apologize? Or will he instead apply more pressure and attempt intimidation?
As I observe him with keen interest.
“What do you want?”
Dang Gyeong-ak offers me neither of those two options, but something else entirely.
It’s clear.
‘This man has the temperament of a merchant.’
A man with a touch of the swindler mixed into his nature.
He was skilled in politics and adept at handling people.
In other words.
‘He’s troublesome.’
Dealing with him is somewhat difficult.
“I don’t think that’s something I should say.”
But he wasn’t someone I couldn’t handle.
“Given this situation, why don’t you speak first in a way that piques my interest?”
Make the first move.
Hearing that, Dokuou speaks to me.
“Would two of Bigo’s weapons suffice?”
He adds one more to what he originally intended to give.
Under normal circumstances, such terms would have been acceptable.
“Tch.”
But now it was nowhere near enough.
That’s what Yoo Cheon-gil said.
Once I go to the Dang Clan, they’ll strip me bare to the bone.
Hearing that made me anxious, but.
“Why don’t you offer more?”
When it came to extracting value, I was confident in myself.
* * *
While Bangseong-yeon was exchanging words with Dang Gyeong-ak, it was at that very moment.
Clang! Clang!
In the most remote corner of Cheogang.
A loud noise echoed from a place where few people ventured, invisible to the world.
Clang—!!!
A woman with her hair tied tightly, Dang Yeeran, brought down her hammer with all her strength.
Clang—!!
Each time, sparks flew outward.
Dang Yeeran showed no fear of those sparks and continued, pouring strength into her arms.
Her eyes focused solely on the lump of metal before her.
Clang—! Clang clang!
Her slender arms showed no sign of fatigue, as if the work were effortless.
Sweat already drenched her body, and her breathing grew somewhat rough, yet Dang Yeeran paid it no mind.
Only what lay before her.
All her focus concentrated on what would be born from her own hands.
Clang—!! Clang—!!
Gradually, her strikes gained a steady rhythm and consistent force.
At the same time, Dang Yeeran’s breathing became slightly more labored.
Her strength was insufficient. Her stamina was depleting.
Yet she did not draw upon her martial power.
Though she was a martial artist, when working with steel, she used only her own strength.
‘Steel is sensitive. If I resort to shortcuts, it will sense them immediately and resist.’
To create what she desired, only her own strength would suffice.
That was what Dang Yeeran had witnessed and learned.
Clang—!
The shape gradually took form. With no flaw allowed, more carefully and gently.
Yet with roughness as well.
Clang—! Clang—!
Life kindled in Dang Yeeran’s eyes.
Watching the steel transform bit by bit, she thought.
‘This is fun.’
As always, creating something entirely through one’s own strength held multiple meanings.
Just a little more like this.
It seemed she needed only a bit more.
If she continued like this, bit by bit, someday—
Surely, someday she could obtain what she truly desired, could she not?
With such thoughts, the woman raised her hammer high.
‘Pathetic.’
“….”
Clang!
A stray thought caused the woman’s hammer to strike an odd spot.
Drip… drip.
Sweat trickled down from my chin. Dang Yeeran stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the iron rod.
Though my eyes were on the rod, a voice echoed relentlessly through my mind.
‘Why do I bother with such pointless work?’
‘You have no talent.’
‘Aren’t you ashamed as a bloodline of this clan?’
“….”
Thud.
I released the hammer I’d been holding.
It fell to the ground with a dull sound.
“Haaah… haah….”
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and sank down.
It was suffocating and oppressive. Something like shackles seemed to bind my neck, tightening relentlessly.
Sweat continued to pour from my feverish body.
The flowing sweat brushed against my eyes, and the droplets grew slightly larger.
“Shhh….”
As if hiding my exhaustion, I swept my hair back with my hand.
Multiple emotions were etched into my delicate features.
It was always like this around this time.
‘If something is difficult, simply ignore it.’
From the moment that dry voice ceased to comfort me.
‘Whatever those ignorant fools say is meaningless anyway. Proving it yourself is all that matters.’
Now that the only being who believed in me had vanished.
I realized the sole support that barely held me together had disappeared.
‘Yeeran. You can do it.’
“….”
Thinking of a voice I would never hear again, I covered my face with both hands.
“…I don’t know anymore.”
Can I do it?
Now that there’s no one to believe I can.
I no longer know myself.
“…I don’t know anymore. Grandfather.”
So I spoke in a weary voice.
And her like that.
[….]
An old man with a gaunt, sharp appearance watched from directly behind.
His eyes filled with profound pity and sorrow.
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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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