WeTried Translations
Translator: Joy
Editor: Joy
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Damned Transmigration ◈
Chapter 53: Crimson Foot
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Sharp eyesight was a quality most martial artists needed, but assassins needed it even more.
An assassin’s basic weapon was a hidden weapon. Even a dagger held openly and swung in one’s hand could be considered a type of hidden weapon, but there were countless varieties beyond daggers.
Some were thinner than a strand of hair. Some were light enough to be carried by the wind. Some were as small as grains of sand. An assassin being unable to see the hidden weapons they used was unthinkable, so naturally, assassins needed sharp eyes.
The Dang Family had built its name on hidden weapons and poison, and ruled over the Salmun.
No matter how much she hated it, Haryeong had been born into the Dang Family. Circumstances had kept her lineage from becoming known outside the family, but among the Dang Family’s direct descendants, her talent for martial arts had been considered unmatched.
Yet even Haryeong had been unable to properly see Yuri’s movements just now. He had clearly been beside her, only to appear far ahead before she could even be surprised, and the legs of the swaggering men had already been crushed.
Ten.
Haryeong slowly blinked as she surveyed the area. Every broken leg was different, but the method used to break them was the same. From Yuri’s swift kicks, all Haryeong had seen was the reddish afterimage left by his moving leg.
‘Thunder Cloud, was it.’
Yuri had gained that alias because of the harmony between the Fist of the Rending Cloud and the Art of the Violet Lightning Flash. The Fist of the Rending Cloud was originally a martial art that contained swiftness, flow, and change. Then it was combined with the Art of the Violet Lightning Flash, a peerless lightning art.
His extremely swift fist paths resembled clouds carrying lightning, which was why he had been called Thunder Cloud.
But Yuri had not thrown a single punch just now. He had only used footwork and kicking techniques, and there had not even been a trace of lightning qi.
‘I'd seen his footwork in Logos, but still...’
His opponent back then had been a goblin that even an ordinary person could beat to death with a club, but Haryeong had seen the image of the Moonlit Reveller in Yuri’s footwork.
That image was absent now.
[What about the kicking technique?]
[I made it.]
So that was it.
With an expressionless face, Haryeong let out a hollow laugh and nodded.
That man had not simply raised his tier over the past two years.
He had hunted wanted criminals, worked as a fixer and mercenary in the Underworld, and repeatedly fought in real battles. Through it all, he had mastered his fist art and created the martial arts he needed for himself.
Realizing that, Haryeong understood just how much she had underestimated Yuri yesterday.
Estor Orsia, the Sword Dragon. A heaven-sent talent presented by the Orsia Family, who had stunned the world by reaching the fifth tier at the age of twenty-one.
From childhood, Estor had learned the Orsia Family’s divine arts and received sword instruction directly from the Sword Emperor. He had received the finest education for a prodigy in the world. And that was not all. Haryeong had heard that, while growing up, Estor had been given the Ascard Family’s elixir, said to be the finest artificial spiritual medicine, along with many other medicines.
But what about that man?
If Yuri truly had no connection to the Demonic Cult, if he was not the Heavenly Demon’s hidden disciple, and if he had transmigrated in the spring of his twentieth year and entered the path of martial arts for the first time then...
It meant that, in three years, he had reached the limits of the fifth tier, learned and mastered several martial arts at once, and even created the martial arts he needed himself.
That talent far surpassed the bounds of a transmigrator. Even the Sword Dragon would pale in comparison if their raw talent were measured against each other.
One by one, the screams from the entrance to the junkyard died out.
“That was intense.”
Clap. Clap.
Haryeong spoke as she applauded from behind Yuri, but Yuri ignored her. He finished off each of the gangsters sprawled in different places, then dragged their corpses deeper into the junkyard and tossed them aside.
Yuri rubbed the ground with the tip of his foot before raising his head.
There was a wide clearing and heaps of garbage piled as high as mountains. There were quite a few corpses among them as well. The bodies had not only been stripped naked, but had also had their eyes and hair torn out. They looked like mannequins.
“What the fuck?”
Six men burst out of a shack behind the heaps of garbage and corpses.
The ten men Yuri had crippled were barely third-tier trash, but these men all appeared to be at least fourth tier.
“An attack?”
A bald man with a particularly vicious face glared at them with wide eyes. Yuri did not answer and merely tapped the ground with the tip of his foot.
“Would you like help?”
Haryeong asked, but Yuri shook his head.
“That is a relief. My stomach is not feeling very well.”
“Why?”
“I think yesterday’s meal disagreed with me. If I had known this would happen, I should have broken their legs too.”
It was an exaggeration. The food had been tampered with, but it could not affect Haryeong, who had been born into the Dang Family.
“Who the fuck are you people?!”
The bald man shouted. He pointed a large saber at Yuri. Four others held sabers of similar size, while the remaining man did not hold a weapon. Instead, that man quietly retreated and pulled a short wand from their waist.
White saber aura flickered from the bald man’s blade. The other four produced saber aura as well, though theirs was weaker.
Five fourth-tier saber users, and a mage?
Unlike martial artists, whose tiers were openly apparent, a mage’s tier could only normally be determined once they cast a spell.
Normally, that was.
‘Fourth tier.’
Yuri did not know what other transmigrators were like, but he could discern the spell formula that formed the foundation of magic simply by focusing on it. As his tier rose, that sense had become even sharper.
To Yuri’s eyes, the soul power of the mage he was seeing for the first time, along with the flow of mana drawn by that person, was plainly visible.
‘Wind affinity.’
Wind magic was straightforward and easy to handle, making it one of the most common types of magic.
Three spell formulae blurred and collapsed into one.
‘It would have been nice if there had been at least one fifth-tier opponent.’
That was somewhat disappointing.
“I asked who the fuck you are!”
The bald man barked. The shouting itself was obnoxious.
Whoosh!
The mage’s spell, cast from behind the saber users, activated. A gust of wind rose high before crashing down on them like a wave.
At the same time, Yuri’s foot moved. He raised it to his waist and kicked through empty air.
With a sharp swish, his leg shot forward.
That movement replaced a spell formula. Inner power rose from his dantian and travelled through his acupoints into his leg, while his soul power responded to that inner power.
Magic was added to martial arts.
Whoosh!
The current of inner power swirling around Yuri’s leg pierced through the wave of wind. He had not kicked empty air. Yuri’s foot struck precisely through the center of the magic and collapsed the spell.
“Cough!”
Destroying the spell was not enough. The invading inner power reversed the flow of mana. The mage staggered back while vomiting blood.
The saber users were given no time to react.
Tap. Tap. Boom!
The foot that had been tapping the ground pushed off from it. Yuri reached the saber users in an instant.
The bald man hurriedly swung his saber. A foot wrapped in crimson aura force blocked the blade.
Crunch!
They had collided only once, but the saber aura shattered into pieces.
“?!”
Aura force!
For an instant, every possible choice in the bald man’s mind flashed through his head.
He could not contest Yuri in a contest of strength. He could retreat and send his subordinates forward first. He could forcibly alter the saber’s trajectory and cut somewhere else. He could allow the saber to break and aim for a counterattack. He could simply run away.
But he could choose none of them.
They both had bodies made of bone, flesh, and muscle, yet Yuri moved with the flexibility of water. The leg that had been pressed against the saber twisted in a grotesque motion, and before he knew it, Yuri’s sole was against his chest.
Boom!
The bald man could not even scream. Only blood came from his open mouth. By the time he rolled across the ground, his subordinates were still caught in awkward stances.
Had only a few seconds passed?
The subordinates recovered their footing and swung their sabers.
Saber aura flashed from every direction. Their combined attack formation was reasonably well formed. They seemed practiced at fighting in coordination.
Yuri had no reason to bother avoiding them.
From the fourth tier onward, pugilists became more troublesome than other martial artists. Before mastering Body-Guarding Aura, the defensive flame they used could contend with sword aura from martial artists of the same tier.
From that point onward, a pugilist’s entire body could be considered a weapon. Once they reached the fifth tier and manifested aura force, their whole body became a lethal weapon.
“Wow.”
Haryeong clapped as she let out an impressed exclamation.
Perhaps because she had concentrated this time, she did not miss his movements. His body swayed with every step he took. Most astonishing of all was the trajectory of his kicks. His attacks bent as though his legs were tentacles or whips, as though each joint had dozens more joints hidden inside it.
He was not simply using martial arts. Haryeong did not know what it was, but magic appeared to be mixed into his movements themselves.
That meant Yuri had entered the path of magic as well as martial arts over the past two years.
‘Is he not using his fists because they are not worth using... or because he wants to refine that kicking technique further?’
Watching quietly was getting boring, so Haryeong considered throwing a hidden weapon.
But the fight ended too quickly.
Haryeong quietly concealed the hidden weapon she had already been holding.
“Ugh...”
When the bald man opened his eyes while clutching his sunken chest, the only subordinate still alive was the mage, whose face had gone pale.
“Your name is Mak-cheol, right?”
Yuri sat on a large crate as though it were a chair and stared at Mak-cheol.
“You looked like the leader, so I kept you alive. There are a few things I want to ask you. If you start flapping your mouth for no reason, know that you will lose your teeth.”
“You bastard, do you have any idea where you’re causing trouble...”
Crunch!
Yuri stomped down and crushed Mak-cheol’s toes.
“Ughhh...!”
The pain was enough to make every hair on his head stand on end, if he had any. Mak-cheol trembled all over as a long groan escaped him.
“You said teeth... You said teeth...!”
The instant he blurted that out in disbelief, smack!
A large hand struck Mak-cheol’s cheek. Broken teeth mixed with blood and flew from his mouth.
“I broke your toes because I thought it would be hard to talk without teeth, but looking at your attitude, I could not hold back.”
“Wh-what... What do you want to ask...?”
Mak-cheol stammered as blood poured from his mouth. At the same time, he quietly circulated his inner power. If an opening appeared, he intended to attack.
Thwack!
Yuri’s toes stabbed into his dantian like a spear. The strike scattered the inner power gathered there. Mak-cheol’s eyes rolled back as foam mixed with blood filled his mouth.
“I admit that you have become good at fighting, but you have no talent for torture.”
Haryeong, who had been watching from behind, stepped forward.
“Torture is not simply about causing pain. Have you never heard of the carrot and the stick?”
“If you are confident, why do you not do it instead?”
“That is why I stepped forward. What do you want to ask him? The whereabouts of cultists? He does not look careless enough to tell us if we ask him openly.”
“A fifth-tier person who travels alone without subordinates.”
Yuri answered.
“A mage would be fine too, but I would prefer a martial artist.”
“Why are you suddenly speaking informally?”
“I was not speaking to you, older sister. I was speaking to Mak-cheol.”
Haryeong blinked at that answer.
“Older sister, all of a sudden?”
“Calling you by name would be awkward, so I will call you older sister while we are here.”
Thinking about it, he was right. Yuri had even changed his face through disguise arts, and Haryeong had covered her mouth with a mask. Calling each other by name under those circumstances would be strange.
“Then what should I call my younger brother?”
“Crimson Foot.”
Why Crimson Foot?
Haryeong did not need long to think about it.
“Crimson Foot because your kicks are red?”
“...”
“You answered immediately when I asked, so you must have thought about it beforehand. My Crimson Foot little brother has terrible naming sense.”
Clicking her tongue, Haryeong stood before Mak-cheol.
“So, Crimson Foot, you would prefer a martial artist? What weapon?”
“I do not care what weapon they use, but I would prefer a pugilist.”
“You say you do not care, but you have a lot of preferences.”
Mak-cheol could not say anything. His eyes merely rolled around before shifting toward the mage beside him. The mage, who had not even managed to properly use a single spell, had turned blue in the face and was gasping for breath.
“If you heard all that, answer.”
The reason Yuri had kept two people alive was to compare the information he obtained. Haryeong looked back and forth between Mak-cheol and the mage as she whispered.
“Th-that...”
“Wait.”
Just as the mage hurriedly tried to speak, Haryeong cut them off. She pulled a small pouch from inside her wide sleeve and removed two pills from it.
“What are those?”
“Truth serum.”
This time, Yuri blinked.
“Why are you only producing those now?”
“I was curious to see how Crimson Foot tortured people first.”
“What happened to the carrot and the stick?”
“I do not have a carrot or a stick, but I am an assassin with truth serum.”
With an unmoving expression, Haryeong grabbed the mage’s jaw and pushed a pill into their mouth.
“W-wait, I do not need truth serum. I will not lie...”
Mak-cheol shouted in panic, but Haryeong ignored him and tossed truth serum into his mouth as well.
“And one more thing.”
Yuri spoke while the truth serum took effect.
“The younger, the better.”
“Ah.”
Only then did Haryeong understand why Yuri had come all the way here looking for a fifth-tier martial artist or mage.
Someone with no subordinates, who travelled alone, was fifth tier, and young.
Yuri was searching for a transmigrator.
* * *
The residents of Sector 4 called this place the Foul Village.
People who had committed crimes or had other reasons they could no longer live outside. People unlucky enough to be born in the district and eventually drift here.
“What are you thinking about?”
A voice came from the pitch-black darkness.
Biyeon, seated on the windowsill, scratched the mask covering her face with her fingernail before answering.
“This place resembles Shinjeong.”
Shinjeong.
The city ruled by the Heavenly Demon Cult was more commonly called the Demon Subjugation Palace than Shinjeong.
“The laws that preach survival of the fittest and the supremacy of the strong are the same. So is the sight of vicious beasts in human form roaming openly through the streets in broad daylight. To my eyes, this Foul Village looks as though it wants to become Shinjeong.”
Biyeon laughed in a cracked, hoarse voice.
It had already been a week since Biyeon arrived in the Foul Village.
People outside called the Foul Village a lawless zone, but that was not the truth. Tens of thousands of people lived here. There was an economy here, and currency. Without those minimal rules, a city could not function.
But all of it was insignificant before power. The people who established the laws were evil people to begin with, so anyone with power could mock those laws as much as they pleased.
To Biyeon, all of it was laughable.
Those who had gathered here because they could not live outside, or because they hated the outside, were now imitating the outside world. The sight of them prattling on about how strength was law was especially nauseating.
“I do not understand why this Foul Village is allowed to continue existing. Why does the Sword Emperor leave this city alone?”
“The residents of Panteleon’s outer districts alone number in the hundreds of thousands.”
The man kneeling in the darkness answered.
“With the Sword Emperor’s sword, he could behead all of them without difficulty. But if he did that, the world would condemn the Sword Emperor, would it not?”
“That is true.”
“Even if he forced them all out, people would condemn him. Yet he cannot take them all in either. That is likely why he leaves them alone.”
“In the end, the filth merely rots.”
“It has been fifty years since Ranalsa became a Rift of Chaos. By now, even this rotting cesspit has laws. The Sword Emperor is likely hoping they will rebel against Panteleon and start a riot.”
If that happened, the Orsia Family, which led Panteleon, would express regret and draw its swords. The Selvis Mage Tower, the Orsia Family’s longtime ally, would lend its strength as well.
“Waiting for sufficient justification. I finally understand my master’s assessment of the Sword Emperor.”
“What did the Cult Leader say?”
“My master called the Sword Emperor a coward who mistakes himself for being cautious and thorough.”
After saying that, Biyeon looked out the window again.
She had not come to this unpleasant city for sightseeing. She was here because of an arduous and harsh order from her master.
The Withered Crone.
That old monster, who had disappeared ten years ago, was said to rule over the Foul Village. Her master’s order was to kill the Withered Crone.
‘A sixth-tier mage...’
The Withered Crone was a mage who had fled from the Rudella Mage Tower. Biyeon did not know why her master had left the old woman alone for ten years, only to order her death now, but an order was an order.
If she failed...
‘He only told me to return alive.’
Her master appeared to want her to learn something from failure. But could she gain that learning even if she sought it? If the Withered Crone had crossed into the seventh tier over the past ten years, Biyeon could not even guarantee that she would escape.
Of course, Biyeon had not come alone. Sword Shadow was concealed in the darkness, but he would not lend his strength in a battle against the Withered Crone.
Creak.
Biyeon, who had been scratching her mask with her fingernail, frowned at the scene in the street.
A grimy child was being kicked by a man with a vicious face.
She could hear what had happened. Apparently, the alley belonged to the gang the man was part of, and the child had been pickpocketing there without permission.
“Will you save the child?”
“Is crushing the weak not the law of the Foul Village? It is not for an outsider like me to interfere.”
Even now, the child curled up while shielding their head was being kicked into a pulp by the passerby.
“Tsk.”
Biyeon clicked her tongue and closed her eyes.
She had no intention of intervening. Leaving aside the Foul Village and Shinjeong, weakness was a crime in this world. It was a world where one suffered every kind of terrible thing simply for being weak. Seven years ago, while struggling in the flames, Biyeon had understood that fact deeply.
Thud. Thud...
The sounds continued.
They irritated her. She had been trying to enjoy a peaceful rest, but the sounds of kicks and muffled screams disturbed Biyeon’s peace.
The Foul Village. The foundation of the laws that ruled this city was the supremacy of the strong. The strong could do anything they wanted. Biyeon was familiar with that logic.
The pickpocket child was being trampled because the child was weaker than the man.
Biyeon was stronger than that man. Therefore, Biyeon could trample him for no reason at all. No, it was not without reason. The fact that he had dared to make noise without knowing his place was reason enough to be trampled.
With that thought, Biyeon opened her eyes.
Thwack!
A loud sound rang out.
It was not the sound of the child being kicked.
“Aaargh!”
The passerby who had been cursing as he stomped on the child was screaming while clutching his newly broken leg.
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