Chapter 47
What would happen next was obvious.
Woojin instinctively stepped back. At that very moment, the wooden door split apart as a massive hand burst through it.
Crack—!
The hand clawed at empty air. Had he not retreated in time, it would have seized him.
Moments later, its owner tore the door apart and stepped out—a heavily built man, easily over two meters tall, shoulders broad like a wrestler’s.
The brute grinned at Woojin.
“Well now… what a funny little rat.”
“What’s funny about him?”
Another voice followed. The rest of the group emerged from inside.
‘Five.’
Woojin took in their appearances.
The witch disguised as a courtesan. A man with both arms wrapped in bandages. A short-haired woman wielding a chain-sickle. And… a man wearing a silver iron mask.
Strong opponents.
Even now, he could feel that unseen gaze upon him—something akin to a discerning eye. He suspected it was the masked man’s ability.
While Woojin assessed them, they assessed him.
“…What is this? Some idiot?”
The dark-haired woman muttered at the sight of him.
Understandable. He was dressed in ornate banquet attire and wore a mask.
Naturally, he carried no visible weapon. He looked like someone who had wandered into the wrong place.
“They’re underestimating me.”
It wasn’t just the clothes.
From the moment he began tailing the witch, Woojin had suppressed his presence to the utmost. It was a skill he had mastered—dampening his aura until he seemed like nothing worth noticing.
As a result, the dark priests failed to sense his true strength. To them, he was merely a feeble spy to toy with.
‘…Shall I bait them?’
Woojin slowly retreated as if frightened—then suddenly turned and bolted, stumbling like someone on the verge of tripping.
The enemies laughed as they watched him flee.
“Wow… he’s pretty fast.”
“Yeah. He’s gonna trip and smash his face at this rate.”
The dark priests chuckled leisurely. The masked man, who had remained silent, issued an order.
“Chain. Hammer. Chase him down and kill him.”
At once, the short-haired woman and the hulking man charged forward.
Woojin glanced behind him.
‘…The witch isn’t coming.’
Regrettably, she remained beside the masked man, clinging flirtatiously. Only two pursued him. His simple trick had fooled them all.
As expected, the masked man’s eye had flaws.
‘Inferior to the true discerning eye.’
Bow’s ability was rare—possessed by only a select few within the Order.
If the masked man’s sight were equal to that, he would have realized long ago that this “rat” was a predator with claws hidden. Instead, he saw only weakness.
The others followed his judgment blindly.
Whiiiish—!
A sharp rush of wind split the air. The weighted end of a chain hurtled toward Woojin.
He stumbled deliberately and ducked.
Boom!
The iron weight smashed into the wall just behind him. Woojin straightened and dashed into a shadowed alley.
‘…Did they notice?’
That movement had been suspiciously unnatural. If they realized he was luring them, it wouldn’t have been strange.
But his pursuers were not wise.
“Lucky, huh?”
The short-haired woman chuckled.
After considering it, Woojin realized—she trusted the masked man’s judgment more than her own eyes. The moment he misjudged Woojin as weak, that error spread to the rest.
Rely too heavily on a single talent, and it can lead to irreversible consequences.
Tap, tap—!
Light, rapid footsteps echoed. He glanced back.
The woman was vaulting between the alley walls—kicking off one side, then the other, flying toward him like she was airborne. In seconds, the distance closed.
She leapt high, passing over his head. Her shadow briefly covered the moon.
Clatter—!
The trailing chain whipped around Woojin’s neck. Landing smoothly, she tugged it with a sneer.
“Bark like a dog once. Then I might let you li—”
Before she could finish, Woojin yanked the chain.
She was pulled forward helplessly. Her movements were light, but her strength was lacking.
He reached out and seized her throat.
Her eyes widened in shock. Her face drained of color. Her lips moved soundlessly.
Crack.
Her neck snapped cleanly.
Her body went limp. Woojin tossed the corpse aside without ceremony.
As he unwound the chain from his neck, footsteps approached behind him.
“…What the hell…?”
The large man muttered. He had arrived a beat late due to his slower speed.
Woojin picked up the chain-sickle. It didn’t fit comfortably in his hand—he had rarely used such crude weapons.
‘Might as well practice.’
Conveniently, there was a suitable target waiting.
Woojin turned his head and looked at the man who had just arrived. As if struck by that gaze, the man unconsciously took a step back.
Swaeaeang—!
He hurled the weight straight at the man’s head. The man hurriedly twisted his upper body aside.
Kwaaang!!
The lump of iron smashed through the wall and lodged deep inside. To pull it back out, Woojin grabbed the chain and yanked with all his strength.
The chain snapped cleanly. A weapon ruined after being played with only once. In that moment, he found himself missing the machete he had left behind when heading to the banquet hall.
‘Guess I’ll have to make do.’
Though the chain had broken, the sickle blade hadn’t been used yet and remained intact. Woojin gripped it and advanced toward the man.
Facing him, the man clenched both fists. He clearly wasn’t some nobody.
‘Feels like I’m looking at a heavyweight boxer.’
The man stood with both fists raised close to his face. When Woojin stepped closer, the man threw a punch as if he had been waiting for it.
Woojin brought the sickle down onto the man’s wrist.
Kaang!!
A dull metallic clang rang out. Both men stepped back a pace. Putting some distance between them, Woojin checked the condition of the sickle.
‘…This one broke in a single blow too.’
The tip of the blade had gone blunt. It somehow held its shape, but it was riddled with fine cracks, making it unlikely to withstand another swing.
Meanwhile… despite being struck by iron, the man’s wrist remained completely unscathed. Woojin knew the name of that ability.
‘Stone Skin.’
This wasn’t some ordinary level of skill. The man flashed an unpleasant grin and raised his fists.
Kkwadeudeuk!
Brown rock began to envelop his fists. It didn’t stop there, gradually spreading across his entire body. It looked as though the process of mold spreading had been sped up several times over.
The outer clothes the man wore tore apart, revealing a vicious body made of stone.
‘…It’s been a while since I’ve seen a skill at that level.’
Even at a glance, its caliber was high. The woman whose neck had snapped earlier probably possessed a similar-grade ability.
“Ready to have your limbs torn off?”
The man said as he approached. His aura was savage—likely harboring resentment over the death of the woman with sideburns.
Woojin tossed the sickle in his hand to the ground. Seeing this, the man curled his lips upward.
“What? Going to surrender now?”
Instead of answering, Woojin poured strength into both hands.
Udeuk, udeudeuk—
His finger joints creaked loudly. Soon, gray scales began covering his hands. They gleamed like freshly oiled armor.
The man stared blankly. Even at a glance, it was no ordinary ability.
“W-wait a second.”
Naturally, Woojin did not stop. He stepped forward toward the man.
The man kept retreating until he was driven against a dead-end wall. No escape. Realizing this, he threw a punch with all his might.
Woojin calmly met it with his own fist.
Tteoeoeong!!
An explosive boom erupted as their fists collided. For a moment they seemed locked in a contest of strength—then the rock covering the man’s fist began shattering from the front, exploding apart in sequence.
“Wait… hey, let’s talk this out!”
The man shouted as if something urgent had come up. With no intention of wasting more time, Woojin pressed the attack without hesitation.
Both fists hammered mercilessly at the man’s entire body. A relentless barrage with no room to breathe. Each time his fists struck stone, shards flew everywhere, like a demolition crew tearing down a brick building.
“Y-you fucking…!”
The man dragged out every ounce of strength to fuel his ability. Rocks continuously sprouted from his skin without pause. But Woojin shattered them far faster than they could form.
How the hell did it come to this?
The man felt wronged to the point of madness. Where had this monster suddenly appeared from? And why had the Iron Mask issued a pursuit order?
But what angered him most was something else entirely.
“Hey, you damn bastard! Why the hell did you run away earlier? You could’ve beaten us all to death!!”
Even if five of them had attacked at once, their odds of winning would have been slim. So why had this bastard run?
At that question, Woojin spoke for the first time.
“Chasing each of you down is a pain.”
You can’t hunt five weasels at once. Once one dies, the other four scatter and run in every direction.
So you thin their numbers first.
No matter how exceptional Woojin’s ability was, he still had only one body. Fighting five at once was burdensome, and chasing down those who scattered mid-fight would be troublesome.
Anyway—
“…I’m in a hurry, so go to sleep.”
Woojin clenched his fist. That was the last thing the man saw.
Kkwaaaang!!
The punch caved in the man’s face. Along with the rock covering it, the head inside shattered like a watermelon.
Two pursuers eliminated.
Woojin rummaged inside his coat and pulled out a concealed dagger. Without delay, he slit the man’s chest open lengthwise and extracted the inner core. Then he went to the corpse of the woman he had dealt with earlier and did the same.
Two inner cores secured.
‘About… nine minutes have passed?’
Most of that time had been spent playing cat and mouse.
The fight had ended faster than expected. The woman with sideburns had grown careless and died a dog’s death, and the big man had been a fool relying on a single ability.
What about the remaining three? To find out, Woojin turned back the way he had come.
‘They haven’t run off already, have they?’
He had made some noise killing the stone-bodied man, but the dark-side priests were likely still waiting there for their comrades to return. They wouldn’t imagine the two pursuers being taken out instead.
Even if they had fled, it wouldn’t matter much.
Not much time had passed. Tracking them down would be easy.
‘…It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on several precious inner cores.’
Woojin’s steps quickened of their own accord.