Star Instructor, Master Baek

Chapter 140: The Scarlet Tiger Boss (1)



Chapter 140: The Scarlet Tiger Boss (1)

TL: FoodieMonster007

“Ha, haha, hahahahahaha!” Mighty Blade laughed maniacally, his gaze fixed on the giant dao and severed arm lying on the ground in front of him. After more than twenty years as a freelancer, he’d never imagined he’d drop his weapon like this. What surged through him wasn’t pain, but a deep, overwhelming sense of futility.

“To think that I, Mighty Blade, was brought down by a mere brat,” he muttered bitterly.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto Wiji Cheon. The helplessness he felt quickly morphed into anger. He wanted nothing more than to tear the boy apart, but the reality of his situation was too dire. Begging for his life seemed more fitting, yet the thought of doing so didn’t even cross his mind.

That kid won’t kill me. He doesn’t have the guts to take a life. That’s why he kept adjusting his sword’s trajectory whenever it seemed like he was about to land a fatal blow, he reassured himself.

Mighty Blade straightened up, glaring confidently at Wiji Cheon despite his injuries. “Where are my brothers? Don’t tell me you’ve killed them already.”

“They’re fighting with the others,” Wiji Cheon replied, now looking as timid as ever since his sword was once again sheathed. “Our teacher told us not to kill if possible… so they might still be alive.”

Mighty Blade’s ears latched onto one particular word. “Teacher? Are you seriously telling me it was your teacher who planned all this?”

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Instead of answering, Wiji Cheon shot back, “Why do you people do this? Stealing more than half of what people earn in a day, beating them, killing them without a second thought…”

A faint glimmer of killing intent flickered in Wiji Cheon’s eyes. He had patrolled the slums and seen just how tough life was for the people there. Knowing this, it became harder and harder to restrain himself from killing Mighty Blade. Even now, the Killing Sword’s whispers echoed in his ears, urging him to kill, kill, kill.

“You’re strong and skilled in martial arts. If freelancing doesn’t work out, why not try farming?” Wiji Cheon suggested.

His childhood had been spent fleeing with his grandfather, hiding in remote mountain villages. Though they never stayed long in one place, he made many friends along the way who, though poor and ragged, were always kindhearted and found happiness in what little they had.

That was why he was devastated when, during his patrols in the slums, he saw children just like them, but not one of their faces showed even a hint of happiness.

Kill him.

Wiji Cheon clenched his fist. He had won the fight, yet the voice refused to leave him alone.

Mighty Blade, unaware of the boy’s inner struggle, forced himself to his feet and staggered toward Wiji Cheon, laughing, “Farming? Is this a joke, boy? Let me tell you something. That’s not how the world works. The strong crush the weak, take what they want, and devour them. The law of nature is survival of the fittest. Didn’t you cripple me with your fancy sword as well?”

Mighty Blade felt his confidence returning. He had lost the fight, but he knew that Wiji Cheon wouldn’t kill him, so he kept prodding, trying to rattle him.

“Eventually, you’ll end up like me. No, the orthodox sects are actually worse. They pretend to be righteous, but behind the scenes they’re involved in things so filthy that you can’t even imagine it.”

Wiji Cheon looked up at Mighty Blade in silence. One slash would sever his head. One thrust would pierce his heart. Or perhaps he could make a shallow cut and let the man slowly bleed to death.

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Kill him!

The voice was louder now, more insistent than during the fight. The man before him was worthless trash, a blight on the world.

If that’s the case, wouldn’t killing him be the right thing to do?

Wiji Cheon’s resolve wavered.

Sensing the boy’s hesitation, Mighty Blade pressed on, “You should quit this hero act while you still can. The longer you hold it in, the more it’ll eat away at you. Fufu. Not that it’s a bad thing.”

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“Stop…” Wiji Cheon mumbled, shaking his head as if in pain.

Mighty Blade felt a thrill run through him. Wiji Cheon was a martial arts prodigy—barely fifteen and already a peak master—but at the end of the day, he was just a kid.

Maybe I can feed his inner demons, Mighty Blade thought, licking his lips. He might not have won in martial arts, but he could still mess with Wiji Cheon’s mind.

“Fufu, I can see it in your eyes. You want to kill me, don’t you? But if you do, you’ll be just like me.”

“Shut up…”

A broad grin spread across Mighty Blade’s face. The thought of corrupting such a bright young talent excited him and made his heart race. Just as he was about to continue, though, a rock came flying out of nowhere, aimed straight at his head.

Mighty Blade jerked his head back, narrowly dodging.

“Keep talking, and I’ll rip your mouth apart,” Cheoldu growled as he strode over, taking his place beside Wiji Cheon.

Mighty Blade clicked his tongue in disbelief. Until now, he had assumed Cheoldu was down for good. “Hah. Cheoldu, you’ve grown some nerve. You think just because I lost an arm, the likes of you can take me on?”

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He glanced at Wiji Cheon, who had his eyes closed, muttering, “Stop…stop…” as if fighting an internal battle.

This is my chance… Mighty Blade considered his options. He might not be able to fight, but his legs still worked. If he launched a qi blast to distract Wiji Cheon and ran for it, the Ironhead Sect grunts wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Just as he wiggled his fingers, ready to make his move, Wiji Cheon opened his eyes. His expression was calmer, though the whispers of the Killing Sword still lingered.

“Mighty Blade, I won’t kill you,” he declared.

Mighty Blade smirked, as if he had expected that. “Typical orthodox brat. I knew it. You people always…”

“But!” Wiji Cheon cut him off with a sly grin.

Cheoldu shuddered. Wiji Cheon’s grin was eerily similar to the one Baek Suryong always wore right before giving his students a brutal thrashing.

“My teacher said that I’m free do anything as long as I don’t kill you.”

“…What? What are you talking about?”

Wiji Cheon unfastened his sheathed sword and tapped it against the ground as he stepped forward. “Mr. Baek taught us that whenever we come across idiots who can’t learn their lesson, it’s better to beat them until they wish they were dead.”

“Wait, wait! What kind of teacher…!” Mighty Blade tried to back away, but Wiji Cheon was already on him, slipping into his guard and swinging the sheathed sword upward.

“Teehee!” Wiji Cheon giggled, his face flushed, as the strike landed squarely on Mighty Blade’s jaw.

CRACK!

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With a single brutal blow, Mighty Blade’s massive form was lifted off the ground, but that was only the beginning. Wiji Cheon no longer hesitated, relentlessly bludgeoning him from head to toe.

BASH! SMACK! THWACK!

“Die! Die! Die! No, don’t die! Don’t die but still dieee!” Wiji Cheon shouted in a frenzy.

For a moment, even the Killing Sword in his mind went quiet, almost as if startled by his outburst.

“Hoo… Hoo…” After what seemed like an eternity, Wiji Cheon stopped and stood over Mighty Blade’s limp and battered body, panting heavily.

“You alright?” Cheoldu asked cautiously, stepping forward.

Wiji Cheon slowly turned to face him.

Cheoldu froze, feeling a chill run down his spine. What the hell is with this killing intent…?

Even though he was rarely agitated, he gulped nervously. The intensity of Wiji Cheon’s repressed qi felt like it was moments away from erupting.

“I almost killed him. No, even while I was hitting him, I wanted to kill him,” Wiji Cheon whispered, his voice strained and his fists clenched. He remembered Baek Suryong’s advice and did everything he could to control himself, but it was much harder than he’d imagined.

Slowly, though, the urge to kill began to subside.

“Well… you did good,” Cheoldu said, awkwardly patting Wiji Cheon’s head. Although the boy was much stronger than him, Cheoldu comforted him like an older brother. “You held back, kid. You’ll get better at it.”

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“Hehe, thank you.” Wiji Cheon grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, his innocent demeanor returning.

Cheoldu grabbed Mighty Blade’s leg and dragged him across the ground. “Let’s head back, shall we?”

“Yes!” Wiji Cheon replied enthusiastically.

The former Ironhead Sect, now rebranded as the Rehabilitation Sect, began cleaning up the area. The disciples Mighty Blade had brought had long since surrendered, and all that was left was to clear the remnants of the fight.

“Hey, are all the students at the Azure Dragon Academy as strong as you? You’re a first-year, right?” Cheoldu asked, curious.

Wiji Cheon nodded. “Of course. The seniors are all way stronger than me.”

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“Stronger than you?” Cheoldu’s jaw dropped, dumbfounded by the revelation.

Azure Dragon Academy students are all monsters… he thought, silently vowing to double down on his training in the Divine Rehabilitation Technique and the Thunderclap Axe when they returned.

Just then, Asam approached and reported, “Cheoldu, we’ve finished cleaning up.”

“Alright, let’s go…”

“How interesting,” came a sudden voice.

It wasn’t loud, but the moment Wiji Cheon heard it, every hair on his body stood on end. He whirled around, sword already drawn, pointing in the direction of the voice. His skin broke out in a cold sweat, and his heart pounded in his chest.

“Fufufu. Such a good reaction.”

A man stood on a nearby rooftop, his disheveled hair glowing silver in the moonlight. Although his figure was cloaked in shadow, his eyes shone a bright, eerie yellow.

With a graceful leap, he landed and began striding toward Wiji Cheon, saying, “I came out to see what all the noise was about, and it seems I’ve stumbled upon something quite entertaining.”

“The Scarlet Tiger Boss…” Cheoldu muttered, recognizing the man immediately. “I heard you were in seclusion training.”

“I was. And your name is… Cheoldu, right? I just finished my training. Had a small breakthrough,” the Scarlet Tiger Boss said, flashing a satisfied grin.

His attention then shifted back to Wiji Cheon, his expression turning curious. “Boy, I see you’ve started down the path of the Killing Sword.”

“……”

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“But why are you holding yourself back? It is the suppression of your desires that makes your sword qi unstable and feeds the inner demons in your heart.”

“……”

“I know you’re not mute. Do I need to kill a few people here before you’re willing to talk?” the Scarlet Tiger Boss asked with a faint smile, his eyes scanning the surroundings for a target.

Wiji Cheon narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been taught that I should control the Killing Sword with my will.”

The Scarlet Tiger Boss shook his head firmly. “Wrong. The Killing Sword isn’t something you control by suppressing it. You have to surrender to it, become one with it. Only then can you reach the next level.”

“……”

“You have been taught wrong. Completely wrong. Whoever taught you is a fool. An absolute fool!” he cackled, his yellowed teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Boy, let me show you the true way of the Killing Sword. Become my disciple.”

“No, my master is…”

“I don’t care what you think,” the Scarlet Tiger Boss interrupted.

In the blink of an eye, his blood-red nails lashed out, aiming straight for Wiji Cheon.


Translator’s Note: Ohh, this is the start of one of my favorite arcs!


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