Bad Born Blood
Chapter 176

Chapter 176

I drove Ernest into a deserted alleyway. Here, I could finish things without anyone noticing.

Ernest must have felt uneasy, as he occasionally stopped walking and tried to talk to me.

"Do you need money?"

"For someone so well-educated, you sure spout nonsense. Is there anyone in the world who doesn’t need money?"

"...That’s true, but if money is what you want, targeting me isn’t the right answer, is it?"

Ernest was trying to stay calm. Even in this situation, he didn’t panic.

‘He’s managed to get away with committing murders, after all. He must have a certain level of sharp judgment.’

I shrugged.

"I don’t know what the right answer is. Aren’t all rich families the same anyway?"

"My family is a political family. We have influence, but we don’t have that much cash on hand. If you need money, there are people far easier and more convenient to target than me."

"So basically, you’re saying you’re a worthless hostage?"

"Considering the risk of kidnapping me, yes. If you walk away now, I’ll give you all the cash I can access. Not a bad deal for just a little work, don’t you think?"

I held back a laugh. Pretending to be a kidnapper after money, I took my time responding.

"How can I be sure you won’t come after me for revenge later?"

"If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do. But you haven’t actually hurt me yet. There’s no reason for me to hold such a deep grudge that I’d chase you down. Like you said, I was careless. Consider the money I pay you today as a lesson fee."

Ernest’s response was quite impressive. A clueless kidnapper might have been fooled by his words.

"Hmm..."

I stroked my chin as if considering his offer. As he walked, Ernest subtly turned his head back to glance at me.

Crack!

I had been waiting for that. I swung my fist and struck Ernest in the face. His nasal bone crumpled.

"I told you to keep looking forward. Ah, what a shame. Looks like I ended up hurting you. Tsk, now that you have a grudge, I suppose you will chase me down persistently, won’t you?"

Ernest groaned, clutching his bleeding nose and mouth. Rather than giving in to pain and anger, he was thinking fast.

"Kuugh, kugh... No, that was my mistake. I-it’s fine. Khaak!"

I slapped Ernest’s cheek and temple with my palm.

Thud!

The impact drove his face straight into the ground. His face swelled up instantly.

"Damn it, my hand slipped again. Man, with this, there’s no way you won’t hold a grudge against me."

I sneered as I approached the fallen Ernest.

He was clutching his face with one hand. Bright red blood streamed down his fingers. But within that bloodied mess, his eyes burned with hostility.

"You... you bastard... who the hell are you?"

"A kidnapper."

"You’re not after money."

"Shut up and walk. If you make a fuss, I’ll shatter your jaw."

Ernest struggled to his feet. We walked through the alley and under a dreary bridge. The sun was setting, leaving this area in complete darkness.

’Gabriel should be waiting on the other side with the car.’

All I had to do was shove Ernest into the prepared vehicle and move. Then this job would be done. I had already planned the entire route.

’With how Border City works, once someone disappears, it’s nearly impossible to find them again.’

Tonight, Ernest would vanish like a ghost.

"Are you planning to kill me?"

Ernest asked. The bastard was perceptive, and his mind was sharp.

I stayed silent and shoved him forward. He was deliberately dragging his feet, trying to buy time.

Thud!

I kicked Ernest in the back, sending him staggering five steps ahead.

"Move. You have no right to complain, do you? You’ve killed countless people weaker than you. Today, you’re just the one who’s weaker."

I could feel Ernest wavering. His emotions were laid bare. He must have been wondering just how much I knew about his secrets.

’You were impressive for a civilian, Ernest. But your armor was flimsy—it came off easily.’

His legs were trembling.

’My violence has driven a wedge of fear into him.’

There was no hesitation in my violence. My entire body sent a clear warning—I could kill at any moment. Even street thugs who were used to putting on aggressive bravado flinched at my violence. Because for me, it wasn’t an act. It was always real.

’Ernest isn’t a soldier or a warrior. He’s never resisted someone else’s violence. He has always stood in a safe place, dishing out one-sided brutality.’

Take comfort in that, Luka. At the very least, you seek out the strong. You don’t hide in safety while enjoying the act of killing.

’I’m not like Ernest.’

At the very least, I was better than this bastard. I didn’t cross the line just to satisfy my desires. I had my own boundaries.

I had to think that way to keep my sense of self centered.

...Several Imperial Guards came to mind. Those who had maintained their sanity for a long time each had their own line they refused to cross. A line was like an anchor in a storm. Losing it meant being swept away by the current, unable to tell where you even were.

Right now, I was searching for people who deserved to die. Back in my cadet days, the Empire and the Imperial Guard decided who needed to die under the guise of a "mission." The Empire’s enemies were targets I could slaughter without hesitation.

’But now, there’s no one giving me orders to kill.’

Everything was my own choice. If I killed someone, it would be entirely my own judgment and decision.

’Be more careful. I might be losing my grip, but I can still control myself.’

I thought of Gaya. It was a relief that we hadn’t clashed. I had directed unnecessary hostility and aggression toward him.

Good. It seemed I was recovering. My rational thinking was becoming clearer.

"Ernest Borel, why did you kill people?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking abou—"

Revenge was Gabriel’s, but taking a finger or two for myself wouldn’t hurt.

Crack!

I flicked my finger and struck Ernest’s index joint. His finger broke and dangled unnaturally.

"Khuek, kgh!"

"Answer properly."

I swiftly pulled out a dagger and pressed it beneath his eye, the tip piercing through the skin and lightly grazing his eyeball.

"...Alright! S-stop! How did you find out?"

I slowly withdrew the blade.

"How else? It was a pain to track, but you were the one posting traces of your kills on the net."

Ernest’s reaction was strange. Mid-sentence, I felt an odd sense of unease and widened my eyes. My intuition picked up something wrong.

Viiiing.

Time in reality seemed to stretch, and a faint ringing filled my ears.

’I’m missing something. Something is off.’

Ernest stared at me with his battered face. His expression carried a mix of signals.

’Confusion.’

I frowned. As I pieced things together, the scattered fragments suddenly clicked into place.

"Shit. You weren’t the one uploading the murder photos, were you? Who else knows you’re a killer?"

"Photos? Online? That’s impossible—"

"You idiot. Someone’s been cleaning up after your murders, haven’t they? That person has been scattering your traces all over the net. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to find you."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Events that had seemed unrelated were now connecting.

"...There’s no such person! I’ve always been alone!"

Ernest shouted in panic.

’The unknown horizon.’

With just a single new piece of information, a vast, uncharted territory had unfolded before me.

I didn’t have enough information to grasp the full picture. The unknown, beyond the reach of my understanding, was incredibly dangerous.

But it was exhilarating. All sorts of threats were taking shape, preparing to lunge at me from behind. It was a thrilling sensation.

This was the feeling I had always lived for in the past. The boredom was finally lifting.

Swish!

I yanked Ernest by the arm and threw him against the wall. I didn’t immediately know why I did it. It was an instinct—almost like foresight.

Pft!

A silenced bullet zipped past the spot where Ernest’s head had just been. If I hadn’t thrown him aside, he would have been dead.

Well done, Akies Victima’s intuition. Another job well done today.

I turned toward the direction the shot had come from. A gun barrel had gleamed from the corner at the end of the underpass.

’They’re staying hidden.’

I drew my auto-tracking pistol. The heavy firearm, equipped with electronic targeting equipment beneath its barrel, rested firmly in my hand.

Bang!

I deliberately aimed in the wrong direction and pulled the trigger. The bullet curved along a pre-planned trajectory, arcing toward the blind spot behind the corner. But I didn’t expect the enemy to fall for such a simple attack.

"Enough with the cheap tricks. Show yourself."

I positioned myself between Ernest and the shooter, blocking the line of fire. The enemy had tried to kill Ernest.

"...Impressive judgment. I doubt you’ve used an auto-tracking pistol as your main weapon before, yet you can already apply it like this. I can tell you’ve spent your whole life fighting."

The enemy spoke with admiration as they finally stepped into view.

Ting.

A bullet tip fell from their hand. They had caught and stopped the shot mid-air.

I observed the new arrival. Dressed in a suit, the man had his eyes slightly narrowed. It didn’t seem like he was glaring—more like his natural expression.

’A full-body prosthetic. A high-output combat model, at that.’

I was immediately certain. Not because of the glowing electronic circuits running like tattoos across his hands and neck.

’It’s the feeling.’

There was a subtle but distinct difference between flesh and prosthetics. Hard to put into words, but those small differences combined into something undeniable.

And combat prosthetics, with their high output, felt even more unnatural.

’Not an easy opponent.’

The man before me wasn’t someone I could handle while keeping an eye on Ernest. But I couldn’t just let Ernest escape, either.

"Gabriel, we have a problem. Get over here and take Ernest Borel."

I covered my mouth with my collar and spoke into the communicator. Gabriel’s response came immediately—he was already on his way, spitting out curses the entire time.

"Y-you? Valek? Why are you here...?"

Ernest, who had been slumped against the wall, came to his senses and muttered the man’s name.

Valek. A new piece of information. Ernest knew this man. The puzzle in my head started coming together.

"So Ernest was bait to lure me out. You were the one following his murder trail, taking photos, and uploading them online. Let me guess—your official status is something like a bodyguard or an attendant for the Borel family. That way, it wouldn’t seem strange for you to stick around Ernest. And... you’re the one who manipulated him into killing Gabriel’s girlfriend, aren’t you?"

An Akies Victima adept. Gabriel’s acquaintance. The intersection of those two conditions was the only way someone could track down Ernest. And in this world, the only person capable of that was me.

’The moment I appeared in Border City, I was bound to find Ernest.’

That was the design all along.

"I’d love to give you a standing ovation, but I’ll restrain myself. Truly impressive. To gather clues and information so quickly and arrive at such a plausible conclusion..."

And at that moment, I became certain.

’An Akies Victima user.’

It was evident in his speech. He had a deep understanding of Akies Victima—and he was a practitioner himself.

Conversations between Akies Victima users often involved logical leaps. They omitted details, assuming the other would naturally understand.

’He knows me well. And more than that, he was waiting for me.’

Only one conclusion remained.

"Where is Kinuan?"

Of course, I didn’t expect an answer. This was just a way to gauge his reaction.

"I often heard stories from my mentor. He spoke of an unparalleled genius, a disciple with talent surpassing even his own. Someone who, with that ability, left a mark on the Empire far greater than he ever anticipated. That disciple’s name... was Lukaus Custoria."

"Thanks for the introduction, chatterbox."

I gripped the hilt of my sword. I was going to need it today.

Chiiik, chik!

As I drew the Firelight Saber from its sheath, sparks scattered. The inside of the scabbard had a high friction coefficient, making the blade scrape against it roughly. Most people wouldn’t even be able to unsheathe it properly.

Viiing.

The friction-heated thermal wire along the blade began to glow faintly. The heat amplification process had started.

Valek raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm, Firelight? You must be out of your mind to use that."

"Surprised?"

I sneered.

"No. I just realized we have more in common than I thought. I’m out of my mind, too."

Valek drew twin swords from his waist. The blades, about the length of his forearms, were sharp and—

Kaaang! Kiiing!

Valek scraped the two swords together, making them clash. The thermal wires reacted, radiating a deep red glow.

"I’m using Firelight Twinblades, Models 1 and 2."

Hmm. This fight was going to be tricky. I’d have to push my movements to near-acrobatic levels.

...What I meant was, if our blades clashed, we’d both die. The plasma explosion would scatter searing-hot fragments in every direction.

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