Chapter 263: The Terror Live (2)

One of the terrorists reflexively looked down. The head of his companion, who had rushed out earlier, rolled to a stop at the tip of his shoe.

The eyes, already lifeless, seemed to stare back at him as if retaining a final glimmer of awareness. Those pupils, glazed with a white film, appeared to say.

‘See you in the next world, buddy.’

Terrified, the terrorist kicked the head away and panted as he looked around at the chaos.

At least that one had died decently. Compared to the others, whose heads were shattered like dice. An eyeball rolled across the floor, having come loose, and severed fingers lay around like sliced sausages.

Swallowing hard, the server looked up. With just that single attack, he understood who the middle-aged man dressed as a butler really was. His face seemed vaguely familiar, but after seeing those wire threads, there was no doubt.

‘Karon Rakshasa.’

In the criminal underworld, Karon was a legend. The beast that hunted heroes. A hitman who, once he accepted a job, acknowledged no hierarchy. A demon who massacred enemies with steel wires sprouting from his fingers like spider webs.

And that nocturnal demon was here? At the academy? Since joining the Nibelung, he hadn’t returned to the front lines.

Karon cracked his neck from side to side.

“Hmm. I’ve been away from the action too long. I wanted to take ten at once, but only managed five.”

“That’s why I keep telling you to come out with me more often.”

Shail replied, crouching into a jump stance.

“…If it means getting into a car with you, I’d rather rust in peace. Anyway, enough talk. Let’s burn this trash first…”

Before Karon could finish his sentence, Shail had already moved.

She appeared in front of the enemy in the blink of an eye, and his eyes widened just before a stiletto pierced his throat.

Splat—blood splashed across Shail’s cheek. She spun with a gymnast’s grace as knives skimmed past her waist.

In that opening, a swarm of wires snapped like a whip. Arms and legs were severed into square and triangular chunks. Shail finished the job with surgical precision.

“There’s only two of them! Let’s rush them all at onc—gghk!”

An arrow lodged in the shouting man’s throat. He tried to turn his neck with difficulty. In the distance, a girl with light blue hair pulled back her bow.

“Two?”

Ryozo tilted his head, his traditional Japanese hairstyle more striking than ever. He released the bowstring.

Thunk.

An arrow embedded itself between another terrorist’s eyes, and he collapsed instantly. As the others turned, another fell to a clean sword slash.

Slash.

Abel’s blade sliced through a collarbone and exited through the neck. He positioned himself beside Shail, exchanged a glance, and they stepped forward in unison.

The terrorists’ eyes darted wildly. Arrows rained from behind, bodies piled up in front. Though they outnumbered their enemies, they were the ones cornered.

Their plan to knock everyone out with sedatives and take hostages had failed.

They were supposed to act after the dance began, but that brat who looked like a punk had jumped in early. They tried to eliminate him silently, but even with his hand impaled, he knocked one of them unconscious.

That forced them to launch their operation prematurely. From there, everything unraveled.

The terrorist couldn’t believe it. How could they be so composed? Were they really students? Even if they were from Joaquin Academy, this was too much. Their composure surpassed even that of hardened criminals.

Their plan had accounted for many variables, but this was beyond anything they had calculated. It was like a brutal traffic accident.

“Damn it.”

At this rate, they wouldn’t buy enough time before he—Heavenly Sword—arrived. If Kang Geom-Ma showed up, it would be an instant massacre. They wouldn’t even have time to resist.

And even before that, nearly a dozen were already dead. Blood gushed through fingers trying to cover a shattered collarbone, and a net of silver threads continued trapping enemies. Those who tried to flee ended up with arrows or stilettos in their feet.

A full-scale ambush. Death groans echoed from every direction.

Finally, the man who seemed to be the leader of the terrorists could do nothing but scream, cold sweat soaking his back.

“F-fight to the death…!”

It was unclear whether it was a war cry or a plea. The only certainty was that it wasn’t something a terrorist should be saying.

***

What greeted us after bursting through the changing room door was a group of hooded figures.

“There’s a lot of them.”

Kang Geom-Ma muttered without emotion.

Like grease-filled pipes, the hooded figures packed the corridor tightly.

Beneath their masks, they wore waiter uniforms.

We understood how they had bypassed the academy’s tight security.

Camouflage.

‘Damn it.’

So close, and we didn’t see it. Of course, we’d thoroughly screened all staff through Vixbig. But there are always gaps.

‘I never imagined the hiring agency was a front.’

The most furious among us was undoubtedly Director Media. Her face twisted with rage as she screamed.

“You bastards! Do you even know where you are? And you have the nerve to come here, not knowing who you’re dealing with? You think coming in numbers will get you anything?”

That’s when a voice emerged from the back of the group of hooded figures.

“We don’t think so.”

The masked men stepped aside in unison, making way for a man who walked forward confidently.

“With the Heavenly Sword, the director, and the famous Media here—how could we possibly stop you?”

The man smirked cynically. Meain stepped forward, speaking on her sister’s behalf, who was still fuming.

“And what of it? Did you come here to die? Is that your plan?”

“Yes. Even though we’re nobodies, we can buy time. That’s why we’re here.”

“Haven’t you learned a damn thing? After dying like rats, you still come crawling out like cockroaches?”

“Insult us all you like. But our deaths are one more step toward the goal. No regrets.”

The man shrugged with a mocking grin.

“Oh, and just in case you were worried you’d be disappointed—everyone here can use magic. The non-mages were sent to the ballroom. But even among them, we chose only the elite.”

“You dared to touch my students?”

“Ooh, scary, Director. But come on, this is textbook. What terrorist doesn’t take hostages? If you want to save those precious students, it’s simple—kill us all. That’ll clear the way.”

The man spoke with confidence. He was already resigned to death. He had nothing left to lose. That boldness came from that place.

“Well, instead of wasting time, why don’t we…”

Step.

A single step cut his sentence short. Kang Geom-Ma stepped forward.

Everyone instinctively tensed. Just by walking, he filled the corridor with pressure.

“Overwhelming with sheer numbers I see you at least tried to prepare for me.”

These villains weren’t fools. Kang Geom-Ma had fought them countless times.

They probably guessed that his ability was like a short explosion—a sprinter.

“But what good is that if you’re still a bunch of idiots?”

His pupils sharpened. The man, startled, gave the order.

“Attack!”

But their bodies moved before his voice did.

Kang Geom-Ma held Murasame short. He stabbed the blade into the wall. Crimson energy seeped into it, then expanded throughout the hallway.

[Underworld King’s Horn Power activated.]

The formation that filled the corridor collapsed instantly. They fell like wheat under a hurricane.

“……!”

Only one man remained standing. All those presences, gone. The group was annihilated so easily, they didn’t even manage to buy time.

Media and Meain were left stunned, as if cold water had been thrown in their faces. They expected a chaotic, prolonged battle. They were completely wrong.

‘I thought I couldn’t be surprised by Kang Geom-Ma anymore.’

But he always did. The sisters fell silent. They knew what came next.

‘The finishing blow.’

And they moved without hesitation. They executed the survivors like hyenas cleaning up scraps. The corridor was drenched in blood.

The man stumbled backward, tripped over a corpse, and fell. Kang Geom-Ma slowly approached, stepping over piled bodies.

“Humans learn from their mistakes.”

His cold eyes stared through his bangs. A chilling gaze.

“But you stopped being human, so you just keep repeating the same ones.”

At that moment, the man who had accepted death clung to life once more. He wanted to live. He wanted to escape.

Before he knew it, Kang Geom-Ma was in front of him. He crouched. While the corpses exploded around them, silence filled the space between them.

The man thought to resist but couldn’t. He was frozen with fear.

Kang Geom-Ma brushed his messy hair back. He tried to loosen his bow tie with a finger, then stopped. That knot was a memory from the stylist.

“The purpose of the infiltration.”

His voice was brief. When the man didn’t respond, he grabbed his hair and whispered in his ear.

“The purpose.”

“T-t-that…”

The man sobbed and drooled. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn’t move.

“Villains always break the same way. What happened to all that bravado?”

Tsk.

“Die. I’ll ask someone else.”

Murasame moved. In an instant, it was stained red.

Thud.

A round mass hit the floor. Kang Geom-Ma flicked the blood from his sashimi blade. The blade trembled—it had been damaged when stabbed into the wall.

Frowning, he stood up. Then looked back. Everything was under control.

Without waiting for the twins, he left immediately. His destination was the ballroom, where true chaos awaited.

***

The confrontation in the ballroom had reached a critical point.

“They’re possessed by rage.”

Karon clicked his tongue. The terrorists were resisting with wild stubbornness.

“They weren’t nobodies, after all.”

Moreover, the fire of determination burned in their eyes. At first, they had been intimidated, but they recovered quickly. A cornered mouse can bite a cat.

“Numbers win! Push forward!”

One of the terrorists shouted as he dodged nimbly, waiting for the right moment.

In the dressing room where the Heavenly Sword was, all the magic users had been dispatched.

They knew they would be annihilated, but with luck, they could hold out for about twenty minutes.

They had to take control here before that happened.

Unlike the group in the dressing room, those on this front were fighting to survive. As they fought, they searched for escape routes in case everything went wrong.

‘Still, reinforcements will arrive soon.’

Then perhaps they could turn the tide. The terrorist suppressed his agitation and led the offense coldly.

Creak.

Suddenly, the ballroom doors swung open.

The terrorist’s face lit up. For a moment, it looked like reinforcements were arriving.

But in the next instant—

Everyone, including him, was frozen in shock. Because the person who entered was someone they never wanted to meet.

“Ah…”

Someone let out a sigh of despair.

An accident can be managed. But in the face of a calamity, there is nothing to be done.

And in the end, calamity arrived.

Kang Geom-Ma stepped through the entrance, drenched in blood from head to toe.

Behind him, corpses mutilated by sashimi littered the floor.

All hope the terrorists had vanished as if it had never existed.

“Right now, if I gave in to my emotions, I’d kill every last one of you.”

Kang Geom-Ma said from the threshold, disdainfully flicking away the bits sullying his sashimi.

“But I have questions, so I’ll leave one of you alive. I’ll give you a choice—decide who it will be. You can let me choose, or settle it among yourselves.”

At that declaration, the terrorists glanced back and forth between their weapons and their comrades. You could almost hear their eyes creaking as they darted around frantically.

“And let me warn you, I have no patience.”

Kang Geom-Ma pressed on with his tone. The terrorists’ decision was unanimous.

Uwooooh!

Their morale reignited—but this time, the tips of their weapons turned not toward the enemy, but toward their own comrades.

“I never liked you anyway!”

“Says you, bastard! Just die already!”

The desperate screams of those clinging to survival echoed through the ballroom like a pitiful, pathetic wail.