Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 160 - You, Death Sentence
Chapter 160 – You, Death Sentence
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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Chapter 160 – You, Death Sentence
In Ju-seong’s assessment, Battle Maniacs shared certain similarities with Wild Guests.
First, the peculiarity of their aliases.
Wild Guests used aliases that sounded bizarre or ominous both in nuance and meaning. Let’s recite that splendid roster.
“I have a fetish for strange weapons”… Exotic Weapons Fetish.
“My arrows take away your worries”… Worry-Ending Arrow.
“I practice smooth slashes”… Smooth Slash Practice.
Seeing such aliases, one could immediately recognize that this wasn’t an ordinary person.
Meanwhile, the Battle Maniacs’ aliases weren’t exactly bizarre or grotesque in meaning, but they were excessively juvenile and outdated.
It was something about thunderous axes or “little Dian Wei.” They didn’t fit the current trends of jianghu.
‘At least something like “Mad Dragon” sounds cool. Honestly.’
Ju-seong clicked his tongue and stared at the bald giant kneeling before him. During the fight, the man had worn a strange leather cap, so Ju-seong hadn’t noticed, but stripped bare, his head gleamed.
“Why are you bald? Are you a monk too?”
Won-gong interjected from the side.
“This man has not a trace of hair root visible, so he’s not shaved-head but bald. The two are quite different.”
“Hmm.”
The giant answered in a slow voice.
“Once hair started growing down there, all the hair on my head fell out. Nice and cool.”
“Hmm. Is it even possible for hair to fall out simultaneously with puberty?”
Ju-seong stroked his chin, then, deciding it wasn’t important, asked.
“What’s your alias?”
The bald man silently bowed his head deeply. On the back of his skull, characters inked in black were inscribed.
“Black Pig?”
It meant black swine. He was indeed dark-skinned with plenty of flesh, but he had such a shabby alias for a martial artist of this caliber?
And from the Battle Maniacs, who loved grandiose aliases? Ju-seong muttered in a doubtful voice.
“Not a Battle Maniac?”
Suddenly, the docilely bound Black Pig went berserk.
“Uhhh…! I am a Battle Maniac! Black Pig is a Battle Maniac too!”
“What the… ”
Ju-seong kicked Black Pig’s chest with his toe to sit him back down. The fierce kick made his sternum cave in momentarily.
Black Pig curled up, whimpering like a beast from either pain or some other sorrow.
“Sniff sniff… I’m a Battle Maniac too…!”
“Hm.”
Ju-seong raised an eyebrow and scratched his head. This fellow was apparently the Battle Maniacs’ black sheep, treated like a servant.
So he wasn’t acknowledged as a fellow Battle Maniac, it seemed.
‘Still, his combat instincts are actually sharper than other Battle Maniacs.’
Closer to pure fighting itself, more than any other Battle Maniac.
After all, he was practically a beast.
‘But the other Battle Maniacs didn’t accept him.’
They didn’t give him an alias or a sense of belonging. They mocked him as a fool with nothing but strength, probably treating him harshly.
“Who wrote that on the back of your head?”
“F-Flying Dragon Divine Brush said he’d give me a cool alias and carved it on me! But he tricked me!”
“Hmm.”
A vicious prank. Given the ridiculous alias “Flying Dragon Divine Brush,” that one must be a Battle Maniac too. He was cruelly deceiving a simple-minded person to brand him with a permanent mockery.
Especially cruel since this fellow had desperately wanted his own alias.
All the more wretched since he lacked the wit to come up with one himself.
‘What to do with this one…’
While Ju-seong pondered…
“Huh…?”
Yi Pyo-eum, who had arrived after other business, looked noticeably shaken upon seeing Black Pig’s tattoo.
“Is something the matter, Lady Pyo-eum?”
When Ju-seong asked, Pyo-eum silently shook her head and left. Since she couldn’t hop on one leg for long distances, she’d procured a walking stick.
The sight of her single leg, moving briskly with the cane, looked somehow forlorn.
Ju-seong turned back to Black Pig and asked.
“Hey, Black Pig.”
“Yeah?”
“How many innocent people have you killed?”
“What’s innocent mean?”
“…How many people who didn’t learn martial arts have you killed?”
Black Pig scratched his head, then counted on his fingers and said.
“Black Pig only fought people who learned martial arts. I was always put at the front in fights. But when it came to fun, they left me out.”
Here, “fun” likely meant the vile entertainments typical of demonic practitioners. Perhaps Black Pig, being nothing more than a meat shield and servant, wasn’t included in their amusements.
“Why didn’t you resist? If you fought Iron-Blood Little Evil, you’d have won.”
Black Pig answered with a dull expression.
“That guy is weaker than Black Pig. But I can’t touch him. Because the strong Battle Maniacs are stronger than Black Pig. If Black Pig fights back, they hurt me.”
Ju-seong tilted his head, then ripped open Black Pig’s clothes. Won-gong quietly bowed his head and murmured at the sight.
“Namo Amitabha.”
On the dusky skin was inscribed a history of malice.
Ju-seong’s eyes could clearly discern how each wound had been inflicted. He was, after all, an excellent physician.
Of course, there were some injuries from combat. But given Black Pig’s meteor hammer fighting style, he rarely allowed hits to his body.
So the remaining scars were all from brutal torture.
Some were made by searing with hot metal, others by tearing off flesh with pincers. Some spots had been beaten so repeatedly over time that the skin itself had changed color.
Ju-seong bent down, gripping Black Pig’s chin to meet his eyes. The formidable aura blazing in his pupils made Black Pig’s gaze instinctively drop.
“Look at me, bastard.”
Ju-seong growled and asked.
“You said you never killed anyone who didn’t learn martial arts. Have you ever raped a woman?”
“What’s rape?”
“Have you ever forced someone to bed?”
“Black Pig is a virgin.”
“…Me too.”
Ju-seong released Black Pig’s chin, sighed deeply, then turned to Won-gong. He’d already half made up his mind.
“Monk, have you read Journey to the West?”
“Namo Amitabha… I have.”
“Just as Tang Sanzang took in Zhu Bajie, do you have any inclination to take this one in?”
Won-gong smiled slightly and asked in return.
“If I’m Tang Sanzang, does that make you Sun Xingzhe?”
Ju-seong answered seriously with a shake of his head.
“I’m actually a composed and dignified man, so the Sun Wukong role doesn’t suit me.”
In any case, with Won-gong’s consent, Ju-seong decided to bring Black Pig into the fold.
He was also reminded of Gu-chil, the fool he’d traveled with during his acrobatic troupe days…
And killing everyone just because they were in the enemy camp… wasn’t that itself a form of the demonic way?
Ju-seong bent down, meeting Black Pig’s eyes, and asked.
“Don’t you want to live like a human?”
“Black Pig is already human though.”
Ju-seong shook his head with a sigh, then asked again.
“Don’t you want payback on the Battle Maniacs who bullied you? I have the power to make it happen. If you help me, it’ll be even easier.”
Fear crept into Black Pig’s eyes. The terror imprinted over long, long years wasn’t something that could be erased overnight.
Ju-seong was impatient by nature. He had no intention of gently persuading some fool. Subdue by force first; inspire later… that was his creed.
He lunged at Black Pig, locked his arm in a Capturing Hand technique, and demanded again.
“Hey bastard, you doing this or not!”
“I-I’ll do it! Black Pig will do it!”
And so, a large foolish man joined the party.
* * *
Black Pig was indeed a fool.
For instance, he couldn’t even grasp that the character for ‘open’ (開) looked similar to the character for ‘gate’ (門).
An ordinary person would understand symbols and find similarities between two symbols, but to Black Pig, those two characters were just differently shaped pictures.
Without understanding mnemonics, the only martial arts he’d learned were kinetic arts, not static arts.
On the other hand, there was one thing he possessed far more acutely than ordinary people: instinct.
Human instinct is often overshadowed by brilliant intellect, sinking to the bottom of the conscious river.
But Black Pig, having no intellect to speak of, instead possessed sharp instincts.
With his small brain, he thought.
‘Ju-seong… scary.’
Not simply frightening because of his violent, eccentric temper. Such people were more common among Battle Maniacs.
But Ju-seong harbored something far more terrifying within. Something unspeakably dreadful that would incinerate all creation if released.
His dread of Ju-seong easily suppressed his fear of the senior Battle Maniacs.
That was why he was so meekly cooperating with Ju-seong.
Ju-seong sat perched on Black Pig’s shoulders, tearing off pieces of jerky with his Black Iron Flying Dagger to eat, and asked.
“Black Pig. Tell me about the most dangerous Battle Maniacs in Guangxi. How many do you think there are?”
“Umm… nine. We call the generals among us the Nine Generals.”
So nine dangerous ones.
“How are they positioned?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know what ‘positioned’ means.”
Ju-seong suppressed rising anger and, thinking of speaking to a child, asked again.
“Who is where?”
Black Pig pondered a moment, then answered.
“Earth Revered Swordsman, Heaven-Slashing Blade Emperor, and Heaven-Shattering Strength Fiend guard the outer perimeter of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. The rest went inside to catch the Green Forest King.”
Ju-seong nearly choked on his jerky and almost fell off Black Pig’s shoulders. How childishly absurd could people’s aliases even get?
He gripped Black Pig’s head between both palms with a clap and asked again.
“Are those really their aliases? Really?”
Black Pig nodded solemnly.
“Yes. Black Pig wants an alias like that too.”
Black Pig’s desire for an alias ran deep. The fool who couldn’t memorize a single line of text knew others’ aliases by heart… that said it all.
Ju-seong sighed and patted Black Pig’s head.
“Honestly, Black Pig is better.”
Shaking his head at the Battle Maniacs’ horrific naming sense, he began counting on his fingers.
‘Even if I gave Elder Brother Eight-Hook Ghost substantial forces, taking down three top-tier Battle Maniacs will be difficult.’
Originally, Eight-Hook Ghost was supposed to patrol the outskirts of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains and clean up the rear. His role also included managing logistics for the other units.
‘But what’s guarding the outer perimeter of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains isn’t just small fry.’
The situation was slightly different from anticipated.
The nine Black Pig mentioned were the strongest among the Battle Maniacs, known as the Nine Generals. Equivalent to at least the top sixteen of the Ascending Dragon Assembly.
Even if Eight-Hook Ghost was a capable martial artist, taking all three down alone would be hard.
By the time Eight-Hook Ghost crushed the first one and his underlings and marched toward the second, word would have spread.
Then the second and third would have joined forces and be waiting.
In other words, defeating them individually was impossible.
‘At minimum, I need to crush one while pushing through.’
Three guarding the outer edge of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.
One of them must be obliterated by the main force as we advance. That way, Eight-Hook Ghost left behind could comfortably secure the rear.
The Hundred Thousand Great Mountains were vast and immense, but the roads suitable for carts were limited.
Once Eight-Hook Ghost secured the rear and controlled the main roads, the battle would be half-won.
‘Blast through like a storm and crush the strongest of the three gatekeepers.’
“Black Pig. Who’s the strongest of the three?”
“Heaven-Slashing Blade Emperor is the strongest.”
“The one who slashes heaven’s blade emperor…”
An alias that would make the court furious enough to dispatch Imperial Guards if they heard. But demonic practitioners who lived as they pleased wouldn’t care about such things.
They’d call themselves kings, emperors, gods… whatever they pleased.
Ju-seong held no great loyalty to the imperial house, but their behavior certainly grated on him.
“Time to issue punishment on behalf of His Majesty in Beijing.”
The sentence for such an impudent alias could only be one thing: death.
Ju-seong thrust out his index finger, pointing south, and declared resolutely.
“You. Death sentence.”
Who was he even talking to? Black Pig felt a chill run down his spine… phantom hair standing on end… and shivered.