WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Episode 1: Opportunity (3)

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Mok GyeongUn died when his neck snapped.

The intruder stood stunned for only a moment.

Then...

“You bastard!”

Whoosh!

With fury rushing to their head, the intruder lunged at the boy, seized his throat, and slammed him against the wall.

Thud!

It was absurd.

Though Mok GyeongUn had little talent for Martial Arts and was no more than a third-rate martial artist, this boy was an ordinary civilian.

Even as a condemned criminal, the difference between him and someone trained in Martial Arts was immense.

Yet no matter how sudden the attack had been, how could Mok GyeongUn's neck have been snapped in an instant?

As the intruder stared in disbelief, the boy spoke with a blank expression.

“...Even if you used Sleep Fragrance, you shouldn't cause such a commotion.”

“What? You little...!”

The intruder frowned.

They had seized his throat, yet he showed no sign of pain.

He could even speak normally.

‘Come to think of it, why is his neck...?’

The muscles in his neck were remarkably developed, as though he had trained external energy.

At this level, it seemed they would have to use internal energy properly to snap it.

‘Could he have trained external energy? No. If he had, he should possess at least a little internal energy.’

Cultivating external energy also required circulating internal energy as a foundation.

Yet this boy truly had none.

He did not seem ordinary.

The intruder's thoughts were becoming complicated, but that was not what mattered right now.

“You lunatic. The young master gave you an opportunity, yet you've truly lost your mind. To repay the person who gave a mere condemned criminal a chance by...”

“Have I misunderstood the purpose of being a double?”

“What?”

“A double takes on dangers in place of the real person. Of course, for me, it is an opportunity to extend my life by about three days. But if you went as far as breaking a condemned criminal out of prison to make them a double, doesn't that mean you could discard me once I've served my purpose?”

“...”

The boy spoke calmly.

For a moment, the intruder was left speechless.

This fellow was cleverer than expected.

An ordinary civilian and typical condemned criminal would have been desperate simply to survive the crisis before them.

‘No, could he even do something like this in the first place?’

Not only had he seen through the situation in an instant, he was taking a gamble.

Even though he could die at any moment.

‘What sort of bastard is this...?’

As the intruder stared in disbelief, the boy opened his mouth.

“May I ask something?”

“This bastard still doesn't understand his situation...”

“You said you were a guard, but you are remarkably calm for someone whose master has died.”

“You little...”

“If you can remain this rational in a situation where you should want to kill me, it does not seem that you held much affection for your master.”

“Ha!”

The intruder was dumbfounded by the boy's words.

He had read their feelings with unpleasant accuracy.

As the boy said, the intruder did not hold much affection for this young master, who was little better than a wastrel.

They were merely flustered and angry at this unexpected turn of events.

Of course, that did not mean their judgment had become so clouded that they would kill the boy here and flee the government holding cell.

‘What a spectacle.’

To think they were being led around by a mere condemned boy.

As the boy said, now that things had come to this, killing him was the proper course.

But if they lost this boy as well after the young master had died, Yeonmok Sword Manor would demand that they pay for it with their life.

‘Damn it, this has become a proper mess.’

Their plan to make the third young master the Clan Head, become Yeonmok Sword Manor's chief steward, and spend their old age in comfort was about to crumble.

Because of this damned condemned brat, all the investment they had made would come to nothing.

As the intruder stood there in dismay, the boy said,

“If you do not care for him, why not switch carriages?”

“Switch carriages?”

“Wouldn't it be easier to think that the one lying on the floor is a prisoner who will be executed the day after tomorrow?”

The boy said it as though it were nothing.

The intruder was dumbfounded, yet a chill ran down their spine.

This damned condemned criminal was practically saying that he would become Mok GyeongUn.

Squeeze!

The intruder tightened their grip around his throat.

“Urgh...”

Only then did the boy let out a faint groan of pain.

The intruder glared at him.

“Did a mere condemned criminal like you kill the young master because you were aiming for that?”

The boy gave a faint laugh.

“Is there... any other reason?”

‘!?’

At those words, the intruder swallowed hard.

What kind of creature was this?

The way he thought was completely unlike that of an ordinary person.

His cunning was no small matter.

Perhaps that was why he had become a condemned criminal in the first place.

‘This bastard is dangerous.’

Regardless of whether Yeonmok Sword Manor would hold them accountable, perhaps it would be better to kill him now.

Their instincts warned them strongly.

Regardless of his Martial Arts or age, nothing good would come from becoming involved with this fellow.

Squeeze!

“Cough!”

They tightened their grip further.

With internal energy behind it, it would be difficult for him to endure.

“Don't be ridiculous. You are better off dying here.”

Kill him.

Even if it meant starting over from the beginning.

At that moment, the boy suddenly seized their wrist.

Smack!

“It is useless. I do not know whether you killed the young master through sheer luck, but I am different.”

The intruder tried to casually knock his hand away with their other hand, empowered by internal energy.

Smack!

‘This bastard?’

He withstood it.

It felt as though they had struck the trunk of an ancient tree.

There was elasticity in his wrist, but his muscles were incredibly firm.

Firm enough to endure a blow backed by internal energy.

In an instant, the intruder moved swiftly and tore away the sleeve covering the boy's wrist.

‘!?’

The intruder's eyes shook.

The tightly packed form of his muscles was plainly visible.

They nearly gasped at muscles so developed that they seemed to belong to someone who had trained external energy alone for over a decade.

Only then was the mystery solved.

‘...No wonder the young master fell victim to him.’

It had not merely been luck from a surprise attack.

Judging from the density of this boy's muscles, it would be difficult to injure him without considerable Force of ki.

His body alone had surpassed what a third-rate martial artist could handle.

‘If a fellow like this had properly learned Martial Arts...’

He might have become a master of considerable skill.

However, to properly cultivate internal energy, one had to begin between the ages of five and ten.

Starting too late allowed impurities to accumulate in the meridians throughout the body, slowing the circulation of internal energy.

Squeeze!

Then pain shot through the wrist gripping the boy's throat.

The boy was exerting force, trying to pry their hand away.

‘What kind of strength is this bastard using?’

They were using Force of ki at the seventh level, yet he was trying to throw it off through brute strength.

Calling him a giant of strength would not be an exaggeration.

If they let their guard down, he might truly break free.

‘This will not do.’

The intruder used a grappling hold.

Releasing the hand around his throat, they seized his wrist, twisted the joint, and forced his arm behind his back.

‘Huh?’

It happened in an instant, and the boy could do nothing as his wrist was twisted.

‘How did they do that?’

Was this also Martial Arts?

If so, it was remarkable.

They had used his own strength to twist his wrist.

Still, the hand around his throat had been released, making it easier for him to breathe and speak.

Shing!

The intruder drew something from their waist.

A Short Sword.

They appeared to intend to stab him with it.

The boy spoke.

“Is there really a need to kill me?”

“What?”

“Without the antidote, I will die anyway. Doesn't that mean I have no choice but to obey you?”

The intruder paused before driving in the Short Sword.

The situation had been so absurd that they had forgotten, but the boy had taken the poison pellet they brought.

Remembering that made the matter even more absurd.

‘Ha!’

This lunatic had taken a poison pellet and still done something like this.

If they did not give him the antidote, he could not live anyway. It was enough to make them wonder why he had done such a thing.

‘Does he think that if the young master dies, there is no replacement but him?’

His cunning had gone too far.

Then the boy said,

“I have no interest in Yeonmok Sword Manor or being the third young master.”

“No interest? Then why are you doing this...”

“I merely have a reason to live longer.”

“Live longer?”

What was he talking about?

As the intruder wondered, the boy spoke meaningfully.

“You possess the antidote, so you can control me like a puppet as you please.”

The intruder hesitated at those words.

Until now, they had only thought their plan for a peaceful old age had been ruined.

They wanted a comfortable life unlike the one they had lived in the past.

The thought of going somewhere else and investing more time into it was exhausting.

How much investigation and time had they spent searching for the most ideal place?

‘Control him as I please...’

For a moment, they fell into thought.

The offer was tempting, but they were not a fool.

They had only dealt with this boy briefly, yet he was dangerous beyond measure.

He was too cunning to control easily.

Still, if he was this obsessed with living, then for the time being, the poison pellet alone would prevent him from defying them.

‘...Should I use this as an opportunity to switch patrons?’

There had been only one reason to seek a double in the first place.

It was to save the young master's life.

But the young master was already dead.

If so, using this fellow to switch patrons was also a good option.

Becoming the power behind the scenes and controlling this fellow from behind would only give them worse headaches with time.

‘Yes. I will use him and discard him.’

After brief consideration, the intruder made a decision.

They would use the boy only until they could switch patrons.

The intruder warned him.

“If you show even the slightest improper intention, I will kill you. If you disobey my orders, I will kill you.”

“Understood.”

The boy answered without the slightest hesitation.

“If you do not take the poison pellet's neutralizing agent within twelve two-hour periods, the poison will spread through your Five Viscera and Six Bowels. Remember that well.”

Smack!

The intruder released the arm they had twisted.

Then they said to the boy as he stood.

“From this moment on, you are... Mok GyeongUn.”

“Understood. Should I call you Guard Gam?”

“Yes.”

“I may speak informally before others, correct?”

“...Yes.”

Guard Gam did not want him speaking down to them, but there was no harm in making it clear.

Then the boy, no, Mok GyeongUn, approached the fallen “real Mok GyeongUn.”

He began taking off the corpse's clothes.

‘Hm.’

Guard Gam watched with displeasure.

No one had instructed him to do so, yet he was already trying to exchange clothes with the real one. He truly was exceedingly cunning.

Only the dead “real Mok GyeongUn” was pitiful.

Rustle, rustle!

Mok GyeongUn took off the upper half of his prison uniform.

‘...Look at this bastard.’

His upper body was covered in remarkably developed, dense muscles.

Blood-stained bandages were wrapped around his chest and abdomen, yet his muscular form was still clearly visible.

That alone showed how developed they were.

‘To think this is a body that has not trained external energy.’

Guard Gam had been surprised before, but seeing it now was even more astonishing.

As Guard Gam stared intently at Mok GyeongUn's upper body, their eyes narrowed.

‘He appears to have been seriously injured enough to need those bandages, yet why does he look perfectly fine?’

That was the question.

It could be understood if the wounds were old, but they were recent.

Yet Mok GyeongUn's complexion and movements seemed unaffected.

‘What in the world is he?’

Guard Gam grew curious about what this fellow had done to be captured as a condemned criminal.

It seemed they would have to meet their acquaintance in officialdom again.

Then Mok GyeongUn, having changed clothes, turned to them and said,

“May I borrow the Short Sword?”

“The Short Sword... Why?”

Mok GyeongUn pointed toward the dead “real Mok GyeongUn's” head and spoke casually.

“The young master's body is slimmer than mine, so I think we should leave only the head and take the body.”

It certainly made sense, but this fellow still made them uneasy.

It seemed best to switch patrons as quickly as possible.

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