WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

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◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 52

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Growth

‘So he did hear.’ Yuri’s scowl deepened.

It all came back to that damned Blood Fiend and his nonsensical dying words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have used a telepathic message,” Haryeong replied, her tone infuriatingly calm.

“Shall I say it aloud instead?”

His brow twitched.

Killing intent, cold and sharp, leaked into the air. The grim aura, thick with the stench of blood, gave Haryeong a glimpse into the two years Yuri had lived since they parted.

He was no longer the promising novice from Rutlan. He was Thunder Cloud.

It wasn't a famous title yet, but whispers of it were spreading through the Underworld. By day, he hunted wanted criminals for the Union. By night, he was a fixer, taking on everything from proxy duels in minor disputes to full-blown conflicts between underworld sects.

The world was overflowing with 3rd and 4th-Circle martial artists.

Here, strength was survival, and more power meant more to gain. Those with ambition learned martial arts; those with intellect learned magic. Martial arts were the more accessible path.

A man could pick up a cheap sword, kill a few people, and with a bit of talent, awaken his internal energy.

Of course, such cases were rare.

The vast majority scraped by as sellswords before joining a third-rate sect that cared only for numbers. Those without potential died at the 2nd Circle, while the survivors clawed their way to the 3rd, and spent the rest of their lives languishing at the 4th Circle, the ceiling for an ordinary man.

Yet Yuri, a martial fighter in his early twenties, already possessed a power that belied his age.

The underworld sects that hired him did so for two reasons: to test his skills for recruitment, and to crush him before he grew any stronger.

He had endured it all and survived.

For Haryeong, who remembered the boy in the mansion, the killing intent he now exuded evoked complex emotions.

“I am not asking to threaten you,” she said, her voice softening almost imperceptibly.

“Let’s not aim killing intent at each other. We are friends.”

“Anyone would have taken that as a threat.”

“You seem to have forgotten what kind of person I am. It was a joke.”

‘She has a point,’ Yuri thought, relaxing his stance and withdrawing the killing intent.

If she had truly intended to blackmail him, she wouldn't have come alone.

“I don’t feel obligated to answer, nor do I see any reason why I should.”

“It’s disappointing when friends keep secrets.”

“You have many secrets of your own, Haryeong.”

“Then shall we exchange them? Are you not curious whether I am older or younger than you?”

“I’m certain you’re older.”

He didn't know her exact age, but as a 5th-Circle fighter, she had to be his senior.

“Then why don’t you call me ‘nuna’?”

“Alright, Haryeong-nuna.”

The word felt foreign, like chewing sand.

“Ugh.”

Her own reaction was no better.

“Let’s not.”

“Agreed.”

“But why are you so certain I’m older? Do I look that old?”

“No,” he admitted.

‘She could almost pass for being younger than me.’

His thoughts drifted from there, and he recalled what he was asked moments before.

[Are you, by any chance, the Young Leader of the Demonic Cult?]

He’d known, ever since the Blood Fiend’s last words, that he would one day have to face this question.

The name ‘Heavenly Demon’ carried an immense weight, separate from the cult he led. The rumour that such a legendary figure had taken a disciple had shaken the martial world.

“You said you were transmigrated at twenty,” Haryeong said, her voice low.

“Honestly, I find that hard to believe. And reaching the 4th Circle in less than six months after beginning your training?”

There were inconsistencies.

A 4th-Circle artist shouldn’t be able to use Ganggi. And where, in all that time, could he have possibly learned the Heavenly Demon’s Divine Art?

“I have never lied to you,” Yuri said, his gaze hardening.

‘I shouldn't press any further.’

Haryeong recognised the look in his eyes. There was a story there, one he would not tell. Keeping digging would be cruel.

She shrugged.

“My mistake.”

“Oi, you bastards!”

The interruption came from the clerk Haryeong had tripped. He stood there, hip cocked, flanked by a group of thugs brandishing crude weapons.

“You came here to eat, so you should’ve eaten your food and left. What’s all this trouble?”

Yuri sighed. He was aware that protesting his innocence was pointless. They would use any excuse to extort them.

Without further ado, he stood up and kicked the nearest man squarely in the shin.

CRACK!

“Argh!”

The man crumpled, screaming.

In the next breath, four more screams echoed as Yuri moved in a blur of motion.

“Let’s go.”

Haryeong blinked.

The five men who had surrounded them were now writhing on the floor, each clutching a broken leg.

“You’ve developed quite a temper,” she observed.

“This only happened because you caused unnecessary trouble.”

“I never asked you to handle it. I would have dealt with them myself.”

Yuri walked out without paying, and no one dared to stop him.

“Were you always like this?” she asked, falling into step beside him.

“Or did you change in the last two years?”

“I changed.”

“Will you accept my apology?”

“For now. But if you keep this up, we cannot be friends.”

He did not want to be her enemy. The time he’d spent in Rutlan, however disastrous its end, was a precious memory.

“I want to be good friends as well,” she said softly.

“I won’t ask any more questions.”

If she probed further, they would truly become enemies. Her desire to befriend him was genuine, so she had to curb her curiosity.

It had been a gamble to ask about the Demonic Cult at all, but the catastrophe two years prior had taught her a valuable lesson: a relationship built on lies will not end well.

She needed to know if he would push her away.

If he had, would she have clung to him? Or would she have simply accepted it and walked away? And if he had tried to kill her to silence her…

“Yuri.”

She pushed the thoughts aside and lowered her voice.

“I am from the Dang Family.”

“...?”

He turned to look at her, startled by the sudden confession.

“I know,” he said after a moment.

The Blood Fiend had spat her name as well as his own.

“Pardon?”

“You must have had your reasons for keeping it a secret, so I didn’t ask.”

“To think you’d make me out to be the bad one for prying,” she murmured, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

‘Most people would have at least tried to poke around.’

Perhaps, because he had so many secrets of his own, he respected the secrets of others. This comfortable distance was exactly what she had wanted.

Just as he would not speak of the Heavenly Demon’s Art, she had no desire to speak about the Dang Family, a family she loathed, a family she wanted to escape, but a family whose shackles she could never truly break.

***

The next day, Guzen’s face was a picture of misery.

“A pass for District 4 isn’t easy to get,” he whined.

“The supply is far lower than the demand…”

“Did what I said yesterday go in one ear and out the other?” Haryeong asked, casually laying the Scorpion Dagger on the desk between them.

“No, that’s not it! I did get it…” Guzen backpedaled, his eyes fixed on the dagger.

“But I didn’t get it for free…” He was asking for money.

Yuri raised a hand to stop Haryeong from speaking, then opened his bag and placed a small stack of coins, less than 100,000 sel, on the desk.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Guzen sputtered.

“Do you know how much these things cost?”

“Yuri, isn’t that too much?” Haryeong chimed in.

Guzen’s head snapped toward her.

THWACK!

The Scorpion Dagger was now embedded in the desk, inches from his hand. He swallowed the curse rising in his throat.

A thought occurred to him. Was it even real? The Dang Family was shrouded in secrecy. What if this was all a bluff?

“Do you doubt me?” a voice whispered in his ear.

The woman was suddenly standing right beside him.

Real or not, the woman was undeniably a 5th-Circle assassin. He could investigate later. For now, he needed them gone.

“N-No, of course not,” he stammered, handing over a black, intricately carved coin.

***

“What did you do?” Haryeong asked, examining the coin as they walked.

“You saw?” Yuri asked.

He had sprinkled something on the money he'd left behind.

“It was poison,” Haryeong said, her eyebrows rising.

“An assassin who dislikes using poison is a strange thing to be,” he commented.

“I find it cowardly,” she replied, “but I use it when I have to.”

Since he had questioned the dagger, he was not a man to heed a warning. Now, the 4th-Circle One-Eyed Badger would die tonight, and no one would know why.

“I have a rule against killing outside of a contract,” she added.

“Thanks to you, I’ve broken it.”

“Will there be any trouble?”

“He is someone whose death will cause no trouble. The moment he dies, some underling will be opening a bottle to celebrate his promotion.”

She glanced at him.

“District 4 will be more dangerous. Why don’t you turn back?”

“If you don’t want to go, then you can go back.”

“How can I let a friend go to a dangerous place alone?”

“I plan on doing a lot of dangerous things there.”

He lowered his hood, and his face shifted, the bones and muscles rearranging themselves into a completely different visage.

“Body transformation?” Haryeong breathed, stunned.

“Only my face. I made the technique myself.”

‘Made it?’

It was ludicrous, yet she knew his talent was anything but ordinary.

“Unfortunately, I do not know the Face-Changing Art,” she sighed.

“I can teach you.”

“I’ll just wear a mask.”

A pass was all that was needed to enter the insular 4th District. Anonymity was expected.

“But you came here on a recommendation from a man named Roichi. Is he trustworthy?”

“I killed him,” Yuri said, pulling his hood back up.

“He kept pestering me for money. Why are Haomun members so obsessed with money?”

“Wow,” Haryeong said softly.

It seemed Elena wasn’t the only one who had been twisted by the past two years.

“You’ve become truly hot-headed.”

She didn’t realise just how much until they entered District 4. Not ten minutes had passed before they were surrounded.

“First time here?” one of them sneered.

“Big bro will show you around,” another said, his eyes lingering on Haryeong.

It was a blatant trap: five men herded them towards a junkyard, where five more were waiting.

Ten pieces of filth about to become cripples.

When the ambushers revealed themselves, Yuri moved, and Haryeong’s eyes couldn’t follow him.

One moment he was beside her, the next he was a blur, a phantom of motion and violence. By the time her senses caught up, a fraction of a second later, the sound of snapping bone filled the air, and all ten men were on the ground, screaming.

She was a 5th-Circle fighter, skilled enough to kill any opponent of the same rank.

But what she had just witnessed… that was not the speed of a 5th-Circle fighter.

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