The stage grew increasingly intense with brilliant fireworks, their bursts amplifying its fiery display.
I watched the spectacle, my mouth agape.
While I knew it was all planned, it was far more spectacular than I had imagined.
It felt as though a global superstar had arrived for a world tour.
The stage truly shone with dazzling brilliance.
No, wait a moment.
Looking closely, it almost seemed to be burning?
My eyes met Winz’s.
With a seductive sway of her hips, she spun around once.
****
*Whoosh!*
Winz threw something.
I knew exactly what it was.
‘A flashbang.’
I pulled down my hood and lowered my head in anticipation.
A moment later.
*Whoosh, crackle!*
Even looking down, it was strikingly clear.
The entire world was momentarily bathed in blinding white.
‘That flashbang certainly packed a punch.’
As the blinding flash subsided, I pushed back my hood and stood up.
“Betting’s done. Shall I prove it?”
*Whoosh, patter-patter!*
I bolted.
My destination was Sinbad Arabica.
As I rushed towards him.
“Heh heh, it’s not my weapon, but… it should be fine, right?”
“Hmm?”
I glanced back.
Winz moved.
She snatched a pole from one of the women pole-dancing nearby and began to swing it.
Her movements were incredibly skilled and precise.
I watched as Sinbad Arabica’s subordinates fell one by one.
‘As expected of a prospective Weapon Master.’
Chuckling inwardly, I turned my head back to face forward.
I launched myself towards Sinbad Arabica, who was still disoriented from the flashbang.
*Whoosh! Thwack!*
I drove a flying knee kick into his jaw.
Startled, Sinbad Arabica recoiled, letting out a cry of pain.
“Ke-heck!”
I glared at him as he struggled to regain his composure.
He drew an axe and bellowed.
“Who the hell are you? Hmph, what kind of b*tch is pulling this kind of stunt?!”
“What about me?”
“How dare you ruin a good day? You b*tch, I’ll cut off your limbs and have you stuffed.”
“What a truly foul hobby. No wonder you have no friends, and no girlfriend.”
“Shut up!”
Sinbad Arabica roared, as if spitting out the words, and flung his axe.
‘What, he’s not swinging it, he’s throwing it?’
‘Is it a francisca?’
I twisted my head to the side, evading it.
In that brief opening, he aimed for my lower body.
‘A takedown?’
As I tried to subtly dodge to the side, his fist approached with surprising speed.
‘His movements are good.’
“Haa!”
Sinbad Arabica roared a battle cry as he unleashed his fist.
Of course, I easily dodged it.
His level and mine were equal.
This was, in other words, a fight between equals.
*Whoosh, thwack!*
I momentarily faltered from Sinbad Arabica’s unorthodox low kick.
‘So, this is how he fights without a weapon. Fitting for a mid-stage Runner.’
He truly possessed movements befitting his rank.
I bent my leg, checking and blocking the low kick that came flying at me again.
As if enraged, he sneered.
“Slow, you stupid b*tch!”
“Your mouth is just too loose.”
At my retort, Sinbad Arabica bit his lower lip and moved his body.
He circled to the side.
Breathing heavily, he threw a left jab.
I attempted to dodge with a weave.
As I tried to evade, he bent his right arm in an unorthodox move and threw an elbow.
‘His combat sense isn’t entirely that of a mere thug, after all? But.’
I swung my elbow in the same manner.
Of course, I wasn’t just swinging it aimlessly.
[Origin Divine Art – Paerin]
*Thud!*
It was Sinbad Arabica whose stance crumbled.
I watched him stagger violently, grinding his teeth.
‘He’s my equal. His stance will be broken for, at most, one second!’
I quickly closed the small distance between us once more.
I raised my knee and swung.
*Crack!*
I slammed a knee kick into his temple.
Sinbad Arabica groaned as he fell back, still twitching.
As I approached to finish him, he thrashed, throwing a fallen chair.
“Ke-heck, you damn b*tch!”
“Did your brain just rattle? Do you really want to use tools against a woman smaller than you?”
“Shut up! Winning is all that matters! I’ve always fought from a disadvantage!”
“Disadvantage, my ass. You’re just playing the victim.”
I had seen countless individuals who spoke like this.
Women who championed feminism, Joseonjok (TL Note: A term referring to ethnic Koreans living in China, often used in South Korea with connotations related to immigration and socioeconomic issues) who spoke of discrimination, and so on.
They were all the same: people who would extract every possible benefit, then immediately declare themselves victorious or cry foul the moment something displeased them.
*Thump, patter!*
I stepped onto a fallen table, closing the distance.
Sinbad Arabica’s eyes gleamed.
In that instant, Sinbad Arabica moved.
He lunged his body towards me as I prepared to land.
He was attempting to unleash his specialty: speed.
It was undoubtedly a speed that risked everything, especially for a mid-stage Runner.
At least, that’s how it appeared to me.
*Thud, thwack!*
He executed a double-leg takedown, bringing me to the ground.
Dominating me, he smirked.
“Now, let’s have a little beating. Time you learned how to obey a man, hm?”
“You truly are a bastard who shouldn’t have been born.”
*Whoop, thud!*
He threw a punch.
I dodged, and the wooden floor beside me splintered violently.
His strength was immense.
Another pound came flying.
I swayed my hips sharply from side to side, subtly disrupting his balance.
Grabbing his approaching arm, I deftly moved my lower body upwards.
“Ugh!”
*Squeeze!*
I attempted a triangle choke.
With the hold perfectly locked in, Sinbad Arabica’s face turned beet red.
“Kuh, keh-heck, this b*tch, how…?”
“Your face is damn red. Are you that embarrassed? Or is it ‘happy grappling’?”
“Shit, now I see, you, keh, you useless b*tch, that useless…!”
“Even when I give you ‘happy grappling,’ you still complain.”
I sighed, putting more force into my body.
If I kept the hold like this, he would have no choice.
He and I were equals.
In a pure grappling match, he had simply found himself in a disadvantageous position.
“G-g-g-gh…!”
Sinbad Arabica tried to stand, as if refusing to give up.
Grinding his teeth and drooling, he lifted my body and slammed me down.
*Thwump!*
I felt as if my very soul might depart.
Intense pain shot through my back and neck.
A cough involuntarily escaped me.
He raised his arm again.
I quickly released my arms, instead bringing both feet together and kicking Sinbad Arabica hard in the face.
It was an up-kick.
*Thwack!*
Sinbad Arabica stumbled backward, reeling.
I couldn’t afford to give him another chance.
The Imperial Guards came to mind, but I shook my head.
‘Using a weapon against a guy like that is a luxury!’
Flexing my gloved hands, I darted forward like a squirrel.
Sinbad Arabica thrashed, throwing punches in desperation.
*Patter, creak! Slide!*
I circled to the side.
Exhaling lightly, I employed my technique.
“Here comes the national combo!”
[Origin Divine Art – Soaring Heavens]
*Whap, whoosh!*
I launched him into the air.
Dissatisfied with the height, I delivered an uppercut to his jaw.
*Crack!*
[Origin Divine Art – Torrential Palm]
*Thwack-thwack-thwack!*
I unleashed a barrage of blows with my hands and feet, pummeling his body.
It didn’t matter if he died; it mattered even less if he became half-crippled.
A torrent of consecutive attacks flowed, aimed solely at inflicting immense pain and damage upon him.
Sinbad Arabica, beaten like a dog on Boknal (TL Note: A traditional Korean dog-eating day, implying a brutal, merciless beating), flew into the wall and slammed against it.
Even then, he swung his leg.
While I highly valued his fighting spirit.
That was all it amounted to.
[Origin Divine Art – Paerin]
After breaking his stance with Paerin.
I drove him further into the wall with a flying knee kick.
Then, a spinning back kick sent him crashing again.
Finishing with Torrential Palm, I unleashed a furious barrage, pummeling him so relentlessly that it seemed he would break through the wall itself.
*Thwack-thwack-thwack! Smash! Gurgle.*
Sinbad Arabica collapsed, a complete wreck.
He coughed up blood and laughed.
It was truly astounding that he hadn’t lost consciousness despite being utterly pulverized.
“Ha, f*ck.”
“Any last words?”
“Can nobles just beat people up? You really are trash that shouldn’t exist.”
I simply shrugged.
I raised my foot and ground it into his lips.
“Honestly, you’re not wrong about that.”
“…Eh?”
“But even if it’s true, coming from you, it lacks conviction. Not all nobles are trash, and there are good nobles like me who give you a ‘proper education,’ aren’t there?”
“Kuh, bullshit. A slanted playing field and a glass ceiling—what are refugees like me supposed to eat to survive?”
“Have you even tried? I believe you’ve been given plenty of opportunities.”
I presented a perfectly rational argument.
When faced with this, people react in one of two ways: first, they admit defeat.
The second is…
“Shut up! You took everything! I’ve been discriminated against just for being Kroz!”
…they lash out with baseless, self-serving claims.
Well, I was quite fed up with this type of person.
I lightly tapped his cheekbone.
“Let me just say one thing. People like you, who don’t even try and just want to steal from others, are called parasites.”
“What do you know…?”
“Then what do you know about other people to spout nonsense about glass ceilings and whatever else?”
“Shut up, you b*tch!”
He seemed tireless, trembling before suddenly rising.
He only managed to lift his upper body before drawing a knife and swinging it.
He certainly had a lot of energy.
“Honestly, a man with a d*ck acting so spineless.”
The dying man’s desperate thrashing didn’t even pose a threat.
[Origin Divine Art – Paerin]
I deflected his attack with Paerin, and he stumbled back down.
As he slumped, I delivered a knee kick to his temple.
Sinbad Arabica collapsed, unconscious, without even a scream.
It was a fitting end for him.
However, it wasn’t over yet.
I looked around.
‘There are still a lot of his remaining thugs, aren’t there?’
Winz was fighting, but she would have her limits.
I intended to subdue these thugs without fighting them.
How?
*Thunk.*
I gripped Sinbad Arabica’s knife.
I began to brutally tear apart his limbs.
Like a butcher dismembering meat.
Sinbad Arabica’s screams, as he regained consciousness only to lose it again, echoed throughout the pub.
After severing important ligaments and muscles, I tossed the knife aside.
“I won’t kill you. The family head will punish you separately.”
“This is oppression, persecution… *cough*.”
“A useless b*tch taking down bad guys – is that so wrong?”
“Y-you… Ugh, aaah!”
I raised my foot and completely crushed his mouth.
The sound of several teeth breaking was refreshing to me.
Sinbad Arabica passed out.
[Enemy defeated!]
[Obtained 3000 Slay Points (SP)!]
[Emergency Quest ‘Rambunctious Sinbad’s Day’ cleared!]
[Obtained 3000 Slay Points (SP)!]
[Your achievements will be etched into the memories of all residents living in the Wednesday Territory!]
‘This is the clear reward? Will the territory residents finally think a little better of me?’
Just as I thought that.
*Thump-thump-thump, whoosh!* “Miss, kyaaah!”
Winz fiercely embraced me.
I felt her ample bosom press against my face, taking a deep breath.
Everything was handled.
I had done it with my own hands.
As I was basking in that satisfaction.
*Clank-clank, tramp-tramp!*
Heavy footsteps approached from behind, and heavily armed soldiers entered the pub.
Judging by their uniforms, they were familiar to me.
They were the Raindrop Guards.
