Chapter 206 – Footprints (2)

He was around seventeen. Of course, I’m not talking about now—I mean in my previous life.

Anyway.

I’d gotten lost. But my “detour” wasn’t anything serious—I had just stopped going to class.

I had the kind of personality that kept me from doing anything truly bad, so “aimless” was probably the most accurate word.

I knew even then that I wasn’t at the right age to be going through that phase.

But looking at it another way, it was during those turbulent years that I managed to calm the storm.

At that time, I suppressed my teenage emotions and tried to imitate an adult.

Faking maturity, faking indifference.
A youth full of pretending.
That’s how it was until I graduated high school.

And it was all because of my family.

What I remember of my home life was the worst. Even if I tried to see it optimistically, it would be hard to deny it was absolute trash.

I won’t go into too much detail. I have no intention of digging up such a disgusting past. Besides, who wants to hear about miserable family tragedies? But if I had to sum it up—

It was a gutter life, lower than most could ever imagine.

If we had just been poor, I could’ve accepted that. But no—it was worse.

Even a world full of castes and demons seemed better than that.

The shadow of a “civilized” society can be darker than the demon realm itself.

In any case, it was because of that indescribable family that I ran away from home on the day I graduated high school.

I couldn’t live in that hellhole any longer.

I escaped.

Though more than an escape, it was a final departure. And I began wandering the streets.

I had left, but had nowhere to go. I was too old for a youth shelter and had no relatives I could turn to.

No money, and no way to earn it. In Korea, teens are strictly prohibited from working.

I felt like the whole world had abandoned me. I never caused a scene, never acted childish. And yet, the world showed me no kindness.

So my mind started to empty out. I was losing my will to live. And that was when I met my Master.

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‘…Hey, kid. What are you doing out here in the rain?’

A man approached while I was curled up in an alley, playing with cigarette butts.

The left sleeve of his shirt fluttered in the wind and rain.

He tilted the umbrella in his right hand slightly toward me.

Only then did the rain stop pounding on me. I looked up at him without a word and snapped coldly.

‘And who are you, old man? If you’re going to act like you’re in some drama, take it elsewhere. Don’t bother someone who’s just sitting here quietly.’

That harsh tone was just my way of protecting myself. I knew he didn’t mean harm, but at the time, I reacted like that to everything.

‘Well, look at you. You’re like a fish out of water, and yet you glare like that. But I like sharp eyes. That’s good.’

The man looked at me with an amused expression and gave a slight smile.

‘Also—if you’ve got that much energy to talk, do something about that stomach of yours. The rumbling was so loud we heard it inside the restaurant. Never heard anything like it.’

‘…R-restaurant?’

The man jerked his chin toward the brick wall I was leaning on.

‘The place you’re sitting against is my restaurant.’

I looked at the sign.

“Busan Bam-bada” (Night Sea of Busan).

Pretty cheesy name.

‘No wonder no customers came today…’

Although honestly, that name probably wasn’t helping.

‘If you stay here, you’ll scare off what little business I get. Go find somewhere else to squat.’

He said that, then turned and walked away.

Splash.

The rain began pummeling me again. The heavy drops slammed the ground and sprayed water in every direction.

Step.

He walked a few steps and sighed. Then he spoke over his shoulder.

‘And relax those eyes, kid. I’ve been using knives for twenty years, but you’re the one who looks like he’s about to stab someone.’

‘Old man… Are you a cook or something?’

‘Yeah. A cook with knives.’

I looked at his outfit more carefully.

A crisp white shirt and trousers. A navy apron tied around his waist. Clearly, a Japanese cuisine chef.

He tilted his head and added,

‘Anyway, if you’re going to loiter, at least come inside and get out of the rain. I don’t want to be hauling out a swollen corpse in the morning.’

‘……’

‘Today’s business is already a bust anyway. One more beggar won’t make a difference.’

I watched him walk away.

And for some reason, I stood up.

My feet followed after him.

The man gave a slight smile and opened the restaurant door for me.

That day, maybe he opened more than just a door.

…Or maybe he just gained a new worker he could exploit.

And it wouldn’t be a stretch—he cussed me out every hour of the day.

“You ruined the snapper, you moron! Do you know how expensive that fish is? Go apologize to it. Tell it you’re sorry for killing it twice.”

“I told you not to hold the knife like that, didn’t I?! Look closely! Rest your index finger on the sashimi blade. That’s the only way to get an even slice, you useless brat.”

“How does someone with two hands cut worse than me—with only one that works? If you’re gonna waste it like that, give it here, I’ll take it!”

“You’ve been getting cocky lately just ’cause customers praise you, huh? That’s exactly why you need to stay humble. Don’t you know mature rice bends low? There’s no end in the world of sashimi.”

One day, I snapped and shouted.

“My ears are bleeding! And every time you call me, it’s ‘Hey idiot,’ ‘Oi, you,’ ‘Useless punk’—why can’t you call me by my name just once?”

“And you? You’ve been living with me for two months and still call me ‘old man.’ Why can you do that and I can’t?”

“So what, I’m supposed to call you by your name? Want me to call you that?”

“There’s a decent word for it—Master.”

“…Master, my ass.”

“Ha… You little brat. Close the shop! No fish today—I’ll fillet you instead!”

“Officer! This ex-gangster is trying to kill me!”

That was our daily life—constant chaos. And before I knew it, a year had nearly passed. It was early winter.

One day, the old man suddenly asked me a question.

“Don’t you ever feel frustrated?”

He wasn’t even looking at me.

He was watching some students walk past the shop.

“Frustrated? About what? That you work me to death for a few coins?”

“No point in using formal speech if you’re just gonna talk back. I’m not talking about that. I mean… don’t you want to wear a school uniform? Study like them? Live a normal life?”

I tilted my head while still sweeping the front of the shop.

“Frustrated about that? They and I just live in different worlds.”

At those words, he looked a bit sad. Then, with a firm voice, he said,

“You’re also just a regular teenager. You have the same rights as anyone.”

“What, have you been drinking in broad daylight? Why are you saying all this out of nowhere?”

“I want you to go to school someday. Whether it’s university, grad school, or even an academy.”

“All of a sudden? Besides, I only finished high school. I’m not interested in studying.”

“You need to learn how to interact with people. You can only get that by mixing with people your age. You, who have no social skills whatsoever, need it more than anyone.”

“……”

“If you really want to go to school… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

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Now I finally understand.

“Come, Balor Joaquin.”

Now I understand why the old man said those words.

“Kill Lycan… and guide humanity’s survival. Then you’ll become the founder of all heroes.”

***

Two beings walked across the vast, boundless territory of the Demon Realm, Gehenna.

Both pointed their swords at each other, tense, unwilling to yield even a single step.

The air trembled, releasing a sound akin to a beast’s howl.

The entire atmosphere quaked under the pressure of their presence, a clear omen of the imminent clash between light and darkness.

Boom!

At the moment the lightning struck, Lycan launched his attack.

The ground burst beneath his feet as he exploded forward, closing the distance to Balor Joaquin in the blink of an eye.

At close range, Lycan swung his lightning-forged sword, crackling with thunder.

A yellow trail cut through the air, aiming straight for the human’s throat.

So absurdly fast that no mortal could possibly react.

And it wasn’t a metaphor—every one of his movements truly flashed like lightning.

But Balor’s eyes followed that trajectory precisely.

His senses, pushed to their limits, approached perfection.

In that instant, when time itself lost meaning, Balor raised his Sacred Sword, Gram.

Black and white. White and black.

Two opposing forces collided at a single point.

Ssshhhh—

Instead of an explosion, a searing white hum burst forth.

The impact was so massive that the very sound lost its shape and function.

Balor twisted his waist with force.

The blade of Gram, as it swung, absorbed the light and tore through space as if devouring it.

Faced with that terrifying arc, Lycan responded instinctively, using lightning magic both to defend and counter.

Bolts of lightning began crashing into the ground.

“Chain Lightning.”

Another roar of thunder echoed.

From there, everything was ruled by instinct.

There was no longer room for thought—only the body’s reactions remained.

Balor cut through the lightning with his blade.

Some fragments of shattered lightning shredded the air.

The lightning blade clashed against Gram.

Beneath them, the ground began to melt from the heat.

Lycan drew back his sword slightly, then thrust it forward in a stabbing motion.

He wasn’t defending—he was forcing a counterattack. Balor held his breath and raised his right arm. From below, a pillar of light surged skyward.

The sword’s energy split the clouds. The two combatants traded blows without moving from their places.

Even so, their surroundings were utterly obliterated.

The land trembled, swaying like a swing, losing its axis.

Lycan was awestruck. What a waste that someone like him was still just a mortal.

Most of all, that steadfast will and unshakable power—his own arm, the one that had attacked, felt stiff from the resistance.

This man defied all logic.

In wonder, Lycan unleashed even greater power.

“Lightning Punishment.”

Crash! Boom! Rumble!

Lightning rained down without end. Hundreds, thousands, millions… the bolts, yellow at first, then blood red, lit up the sky.

The mountains of flesh and blood that blanketed the area were reduced to ash. Balor swept his right arm horizontally.

A white wave devoured all the lightning in its path.

In the midst of that chaos, Balor gathered even more power. Then he brought his sword down.

Slash!

A pure white ray grazed Lycan’s shoulder. The ground beside him wavered like a shimmering heat haze.

Balor’s strike had carved a void. The air, once filled with magic, became a total vacuum.

The echo of that emptiness rang out coldly.

Lycan froze in disbelief. He shivered—and then, like a madman, burst into laughter.

“Yes… it’s a shame someone like you can’t become a hero.”

“…….”

“But I’ve had enough warm-up.”

Lycan’s eyes began to glow with a verdant light. Balor pointed his blade at him and replied.

“Let’s end this, Lycan.”

Smoke rose from his left arm. Flesh and bone began to disintegrate.

Lycan’s pupils shrank.

“The power of ‘Him’… Not even you, Balor Joaquin, can withstand it in that body. Such an incredible… and cruel power. But still, show me.”

Balor calmly gazed at his dissolving arm. He thought an arm is a small price to pay for this power.

Lycan spoke again, his voice mad with euphoria.

“The power to Defy the Heavens—The power that can even cut down the gods.”