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The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master Chapter 246: True Madness

Chapter 246: True Madness

Dialogue‍ is probably the‌‌ most ideal way⁠⁠‌ to resolve conflicts‌‌ between people.

Unfortunately,‍‌ reality isn’t so⁠‌​ generous. Sometimes, there‍‌ are situations where‌⁠​ one must abandon⁠ dignity and resort‍ to violence. For⁠⁠‌ example, when the​‍​ other person doesn’t‌ listen—or when they’re​ crazy… or very⁠​ crazy.

Anyway.​‍‍

This‍ is exactly one‍ of those cases.‍ A moment when‍‍ dignity must give​ way to violence.‍​⁠ Because the President‌‌ of the Association,‍​ now fleeing and⁠ trailing blood, is‌ a lunatic with‌ whom dialogue is‍‍ impossible.

Thok.​‌

I couldn’t just stand​ there with a patient this critical,​ so I inevitably⁠‌ administered an injection—with‌⁠ my knife.

The‌​ President’s eyes flew‍⁠‍ wide open as‌‍‍ the sashimi blade‌​ pierced his side.⁠⁠⁠

“Gaaaaaaaaaaah!”‌‍

A bloodcurdling scream filled‌⁠ the laboratory. Since​‌ the entire interior‍⁠‌ was lined with‍‌⁠ metal, the echo⁠⁠ thundered back with⁠ force.

At‌‌ the center of‌ this hellish wailing⁠⁠ were him—vomiting blood⁠‍⁠ in torrents—and me.⁠

“It’s⁠‍‍ just a stab.”‍‌⁠

The⁠‍ President convulsed, foaming⁠⁠‍ at the mouth⁠‌ after taking the‌‌ injection to the⁠‍ abdomen.

His​‍‌ rolled-back eyes made​ it clear he‌‍ wasn’t in good​‌ shape.

What‍‌ a shame… His​⁠​ madness was worse‍ than I thought.​‍‌

In⁠​ moments like this,​ one has to⁠ harden their heart.‌‌‌ Hearing the screams‌ of a man​‌‌ over two hundred⁠‍ years old tears​‌⁠ your soul, but‌‌ this is all‍‍ part of the‍⁠ treatment.

And​ let me repeat⁠ this is not​‍⁠ gratuitous violence. This​‍ is medicine. It’s​ not like I want to treat⁠ the Director’s father‌ like this.

‘My​ heart hurts.’

As​‍⁠ if something were‍ being torn inside.​

Which​ is why I must cure his‌ madness as quickly‍‌‍ as possible. Besides,‌⁠​ I only had​​​ about 40 seconds​​​ left on my⁠​ [Blessing of Insensitivity‍ to Pain].

“I’ll‌ administer another dose.”‌⁠

“P-p…​‍ stop… please, stop…!”⁠​​

“If​‍ you move, it’ll​⁠‌ hurt more—ah, right.”‌⁠‌

I scratched my head‌‌​ with the hilt​‍‍ of the knife.​‌‍

“This​ is supposed to⁠ hurt!”

“Kaaaaa!”‍

Ignoring‍ his attempt at‍ resistance, I stabbed​‍ him again with‍​‌ the sashimi. Splash.​ Blood sprayed across‍ my cheek.

“Damn,‍⁠ I’m going to⁠‍ need a lot⁠ of soap to‌ wash my face.”‌‌

The⁠⁠⁠ President’s face began​‌‍ to turn as‍ pale as a corpse. It was​‍‍ the perfect moment‍​⁠ to activate the‌‌ [Blessing of Regeneration].​‌

This‌ kind of blessing‍ even regenerates blood,‍ so there’s no‍ risk of bleeding⁠⁠ out or dying⁠‌​ from shock.

If⁠​‌ timed right, the‌⁠​ patient won’t die.⁠ Or rather, they⁠‍⁠ can’t die. I won’t let them.‍​

Now‌ that I think‌⁠‍ about it, if‌​‍ this blessing were⁠ made widely available,‌​ the entire medical​⁠‍ system would collapse.‌

‘And​‌‌ even I, self-taught,‍ have already “cured”⁠⁠ several people.’

Of‌‍ course, the blessing‍⁠ alone doesn’t perform‌‍‌ miracles. It’s thanks‌‍​ to my precise‍​⁠ cuts and genuine‌‌‌ desire to save⁠ lives that this​​ has been possible.⁠

At‍ this rate, shouldn’t⁠​​ I be considered⁠‌⁠ a divine doctor?‍‌

·
·
·

Well…⁠ maybe not.

***‌​

“It‍⁠ hurts, doesn’t it,⁠‌⁠ President?”

Thok.‍

“Feels​​⁠ like having a giant nail driven⁠‌‍ into your chest,​⁠ doesn’t it?”

Thok.‌​

“That’s​‍ the same kind​ of pain the⁠ Director felt just⁠ a moment ago.”⁠

Thok.‌⁠

“And‍⁠ don’t think it’s​‌⁠ only children who‍​‌ get nails driven⁠ in.”

Thok.‍

“Parents‍⁠ drive nails into‍‌ their children’s hearts‌ too.”

Thok.‍‌‌

“I‍⁠ know it well—because​‍‍ I was one​​​ of those victims.”‍

***​​⁠

“…Hey,​​‍ Geom-Ma.”

Media‍​ called out to‌​⁠ Kang Geom-Ma while⁠ witnessing the “madness‌​⁠ treatment” being administered⁠ to the President⁠ of the Association.‍

When​⁠ he turned around,‍ he saw her‍‌‌ completely pale.

“I​⁠‌ understand how you⁠⁠ feel, Director. It​ can’t be easy,⁠ especially considering it’s​‍‌ your father. But​ don’t worry, this‍‌⁠ will all be‍ over soon.”

Geom-Ma‍‌‌ tried to reassure‌ her, but Media⁠‌ lightly bit her‍‍​ lip and shook‌‌‍ her head.

“Geom-Ma…‌‍ No matter how‍ I look at‍​‍ it, this doesn’t​ seem like treatment—it‍ looks like torture…”⁠

“Director.”‍

Kang​‌ Geom-Ma cut her​​‍ off with a stern gaze.

“It‍​⁠ may seem a bit extreme, but‌‍ you know better‌⁠‌ than anyone that‌⁠‌ this is the⁠ only way to​ treat the President’s⁠‌​ madness.”

Media⁠​‍ didn’t respond.

“……”⁠‌​

But‌ she thought. Victor​ Poison was a lunatic, yes—but a lunatic who was‍ aware of his‍‌ own madness.

And‌‍ Geom-Ma? Though she​‌​ didn’t want to‌ think that way​ about a student​‌​ she cared for…⁠‍⁠ Kang Geom-Ma was‌‍ also a lunatic.‌‌ Just a glance‌‍⁠ at his record‍⁠⁠ was enough to‍​ see how unhinged‌ he was.

However,‌‌ under normal circumstances,​⁠‌ he acted with⁠‌ morality and common⁠⁠ sense. As long​‌‍ as his “madness‌⁠ switch” wasn’t triggered,⁠​‌ Geom-Ma was a model student.

Maybe‍ his premature maturity‌ and mental instability‌‌‍ were side effects‌ of growing up​ without parents.

In​​ this world, he​​ had no one‍‌ to rely on​​⁠ but himself.

And‌‌ despite all the‌ adversity, he achieved‍⁠ miraculous feats, as​ if Heaven had⁠⁠⁠ granted him a special talent.

‘Despite​ everything, Geom-Ma has⁠​⁠ endured.’

Media⁠ reminded herself it⁠ was her duty​‌‍ to act as​‍⁠ a guide, to‍ make sure that​⁠ this prodigious youth‌‍⁠ didn’t stray from‌⁠​ the path.

Even‍ if he swung‌⁠ wildly between sanity⁠‌⁠ and madness, with⁠ the right environment,​⁠ he could change.‌‍⁠

‘But⁠‍ the problem is…’‌​

Kang⁠‌​ Geom-Ma didn’t know⁠‍⁠ he was mad.⁠‌⁠ He wasn’t aware⁠‍‍ of it. He⁠⁠ genuinely believed he‍​⁠ was a normal⁠⁠ person.

“It‍ may look like​ simple violence. But‌​ to understand the⁠​ value of life,​​‍ one must feel⁠ the pain of‌ death firsthand.”

“……”⁠

“I​ don’t like doing‍⁠​ it. It’s uncomfortable.⁠ But it’s necessary.​‍⁠ It’s all part‌​ of the treatment.”‌‍

Even‍‌‌ then, while speaking​‌ as if convincing​ himself, Geom-Ma said‍⁠​ it with complete​ sincerity.

And‍‌‌ that’s exactly why‌⁠ he acted without‍​ hesitation.

‘Fine.⁠ Let’s suppose he’s​‌ right about everything.’​​

In‌ the world of‌‌‌ heroes, solving problems​ with violence wasn’t⁠‌⁠ that unusual.

Otherwise,‌ what Geom-Ma did​‍ to Kojima would’ve⁠‍‌ been totally inexcusable.​‌⁠

Media,‌​ for her part,‌⁠​ had her own​ reasons for not‍⁠‌ hitting him.

Even​⁠ though she would’ve​ loved to, she‍ restrained herself.

But⁠​​ Geom-Ma didn’t. He⁠​‌ went straight to⁠‌‍ the hospital and‌‌ stabbed him with​ sashimi. And deep‌ down, Media found​​⁠ it rather satisfying.‌​‍

‘With⁠‌ those high-and-mighty, arrogant⁠⁠ heroes, sometimes violence⁠ is the only‍​​ language they understand.’​‌⁠

After‌ all, she slapped​ her own father.‍‌⁠ The difference was‌ only in degree,‌ but in the​ end, violence is⁠ violence.

She‌‌​ couldn’t criticize Geom-Ma​ without being a hypocrite.

But‍‌‍ still…

“Aaaaaagh!”⁠‌

How⁠​ could he treat​ Victor Poison, the​‌ President of the​⁠‌ Hero Association, like⁠ a fish on​ a cutting board?⁠​​

‘And⁠‌ saying things like‍‌ “it’s just a stab,” “this is⁠ treatment”…’

And⁠⁠​ when she tried​ to speak up‌⁠​ about how extreme​​ it all was,​⁠ Geom-Ma just treated‍⁠⁠ her like she⁠⁠‍ was being overly‍‌​ sensitive.

‘They‌‍ say the mad‍ don’t know they’re‌ mad.’

Media‍⁠‍ sighed. She was‍ seriously starting to​ doubt whether she’d​​‌ ever be able‍‍ to “correct” Kang​‌ Geom-Ma. If his‍‌‍ madness was that‌‌⁠ pure and uncontrollable,‍​‍ then even she​‌ didn’t know how​ to deal with⁠⁠ it.

At‍ that moment—

“By‍‌ the way, wasn’t⁠‌‍ the President of‌​⁠ the Association a combat-type hero? I mean, he’s hanging‍ in there, but⁠ for someone in⁠ his position, he’s⁠‌​ weaker than I expected.”

Geom-Ma‍ asked casually while‍​ cleaning his knife⁠⁠⁠ on his sleeve.​​⁠ Next to him,‍​‍ the President sat⁠ unconscious in the‍‍ chair.

Media‍‌‍ swallowed hard before⁠‍ responding.

“My‌ father isn’t combat-specialized.‍ But he’s at⁠ least at an‍​ average warrior’s level.”​

“Really?”‍

Geom-Ma‍⁠‍ looked at him,⁠‍ surprised.

That​​‌ wimp who looked‌⁠ like a dainty⁠‍ noble?

“Doesn’t⁠‍‌ look like it‌​ at all.”

“That’s​‌ because you…”

…Are‍⁠​ ridiculously strong, Geom-Ma.⁠‌‍

The‍‍ words caught in‌​ her throat as​‌ she saw that‍​ Geom-Ma now had‍ two sashimi knives‍​ instead of one.⁠‍​

“If‌ he’s at warrior‌‍‍ level, better prepare​​‍ another just in‌‌⁠ case.”

“Don’t‌ you think that’s…‌ a bit much?”‌​

“Can’t‌ be too careful.”‌‍

Geom-Ma​ shook his head.​‍

“If​​‌ the President decided​‍‌ to resist seriously,‌‍ he might accidentally‌ strike a vital‌⁠‌ spot. It could‍⁠ be a fatal‍‍ accident.”

Geom-Ma‍‍ said it with‌⁠‍ utter conviction. Media⁠⁠⁠ could only rub‍ her temples, dizzy‍‌ with fatigue.

At​‌​ that moment, the‌‍ President, who until⁠⁠​ recently had hung‍‍ limp like a rag doll, cracked‌⁠‍ open his glazed​‌⁠ eyes.

It⁠⁠ looked like he’d​ returned from his‌‍​ third trip to‌‌‍ the other side.​ Victor groaned in‍​‍ pain. His gaze‍‌ was unfocused. Drool‍‍ slid down his​⁠‌ chin.

“Please…‌ save me…”

Hearing​‌‌ that, Kang Geom-Ma‌‌ approached.

“Say​‌ it clearly. Are‍ you asking to‌ be saved—or that‌‍ you want to​‌ live?”

“I—I​⁠ want to live!”‌‍

Geom-Ma​ lowered his voice.‌⁠ Then the President‍ began to beg⁠⁠‍ as if his⁠⁠​ life depended on‌​‍ it.

“Heavenly‌‌‌ Sword, thanks to⁠‍⁠ you I’ve realized‍​ that dying hurts⁠‌ more than living⁠‍‍ forever. I was‍‌⁠ wrong. Life isn’t‍⁠ a chain of‌ suffering. Even wallowing​‍‍ in mud is‍ better than dying…”‌​‍

“Shorter.”⁠

“I‍‌ want to live.‍​⁠ I don’t want‌‌ to die. I want to live—without​‌​ a doubt!”

Victor‍⁠‍ kept pleading for⁠ his life. A pitiful sight, nothing⁠‍ like the dignified⁠‍​ head of the‍ Association.

“Don’t‍ say that ‘I‌‌ want to die’⁠⁠ stuff again. Because‍​ if you do,⁠​ I’ll come again.”‍‍⁠

“Even‍​⁠ when my time​‌ comes, I’ll accept​⁠ intensive care if‍⁠ needed!”

Kang​⁠‌ Geom-Ma looked at‍⁠ him for a moment, then turned‍⁠‍ to Media.

“Looks⁠​ like the madness‍ treatment was successful.”​

Geom-Ma​⁠ smiled, baring his‌‌ sharp teeth. They​​‍ gleamed like blades.‌

“If⁠​ additional treatment is​​ needed, just let⁠ me know, Director.”‌

“……”​

Media​‌ couldn’t say a word.

She‌‍⁠ just let out‍ a sigh so‍‍ long it echoed‍​‍ like a fading‌‌ wind.

***‌​

Thus⁠​‌ ended the physical‍‍‍ therapy session. Media⁠‌ called the assistant‌⁠‌ and the secretary‌​ to return to​⁠ the lab.

“……!”​⁠​

The⁠ moment they stepped‌ inside, both of‍‌‍ them covered their‍​ noses. The stench⁠​ of blood hit⁠‌⁠ them like a rock to the‌‌⁠ head.

“What‌​‌ is this?”

The​⁠​ lab was splattered​⁠ with blood everywhere.⁠​‌ It looked like⁠ at least twenty⁠​ people had bled‌ out there.

Anticipating‍ their reaction, Media​‌⁠ briefly explained what‌‍‍ had happened. Both⁠ were left in⁠ shock.

They​ looked at each‍ other, unsure of‌​ what to say.​⁠ From what the‌ director said, it​ seemed that the⁠​‍ Heavenly Sword had‌⁠ beaten the president.‌‌​

“I​‌⁠ know it’s hard⁠​ to take in.​‌ But please understand.‍​ Accept reality.”

“If‌‍⁠ you say so,⁠​ Director.”

“And⁠‌‍ of course, this⁠⁠‍ stays between us.​ If anything leaks,‌⁠​ you know what‌ to do. Understood?”‍​

“Yes,”⁠ the secretary replied.‌‌‌

“If‍‍​ anything leaks, we’ll‌‍​ both take our​ own lives. That‍⁠ was our vow.”​

“What?‌⁠ I never made⁠⁠‍ such a vow…!”​

The⁠ secretary shot him​‍ a glare. The‍⁠ assistant cursed internally.⁠⁠⁠

‘Damn‌​⁠ it…’

Always⁠ with the suicide‌ talk. And now‍⁠‌ that the president⁠‍ ended up like​​ this, the last‌‍⁠ thing he wanted‍ was to go​ down the same⁠ path.

Discreetly,​ he glanced toward‍‍ a corner of⁠ the lab. There,​ Kang Geom-Ma and‍‌ the president were⁠‌‍ chatting cheerfully in⁠​‌ front of an​⁠ old computer.

The‍ scene left him‍​⁠ speechless.

They​​‌ talked completely normally,​‌ as if nothing⁠‌ had happened.

Madmen⁠ operated on a logic beyond all​⁠‌ understanding.

“So,‍⁠‍ what the president‍​ wants is to​ launch these cyborg‍⁠ angels into space,​‌ right?”

Geom-Ma⁠ summarized the conversation​‍ so far.

“But‌​ why bother sending‍⁠‌ them into space?”⁠

“Sending​ something into space‍ does require a lot of resources,⁠ yes. But once​‌ they’re out there,⁠​ there are many‌⁠‍ advantages. For instance,‍ they use solar⁠⁠ energy, and the⁠ vacuum prevents decomposition.​ See?”

“That​ makes sense. But​‍‍ if you want‌‌ to launch them,​‌⁠ you’ll need help‌⁠ from the United​​‍ States. That would⁠‌⁠ take a long‍ time.”

“And​​​ why should I rely on the‌ Yankees? Beneath my‍⁠⁠ base in Antarctica,‍‍ I already have‍​ facilities ready to⁠‍ launch a rocket.‍​ I just have​⁠‍ to press a button.”

“By​ yourself?”

“I’ve⁠ got too much‌ free time to‍ do it all​⁠⁠ alone, but in⁠‍ other parts of​‍ the base I have robots that​‌‌ help me.”

Victor​​ operated the keyboard​‌​ and switched the⁠‍‌ monitor screen.

Robots​ appeared, working actively.​​‌ Though they had‍​⁠ quite humorous designs—penguins,​ seals, Arctic animals.‍

“Why‌ do they look‍⁠‌ like that?”

“Personal‌​ preference.”

“I​​ respect that.”

“In‍‍‍ any case, the⁠⁠ rockets will orbit‍‍​ the Earth like⁠ satellites. And they’ll​‌ only descend as‌‍​ meteorites if you,‌​ Heavenly Sword, give​⁠ the order.”

“Falling​ from the sky,‌‌⁠ that really would‌​‍ be a fitting⁠​‍ entrance for angels.”​‍

“If‍‍ we’re going to‌‌ do this, it‌⁠ should have style.‌‌‍ I’m sure if‍‍ angels fall from​ the sky, even​‍ Fermush will be‍ a bit intimidated.‌‍ What do you‍ think of my‌ plan?”

“To‌ be honest, it‌ sounds completely insane.‍ From start to‌​ finish.”

Kang‍ Geom-Ma said it​‍​ with utter seriousness.‍‌

“Let’s‍‌‌ do it.”

Humanity​ was ready.

All‍​​ that remained was‍ a worthy enemy—the‌‌ demon that would​ breach the gate‌‍ to invade.

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