Chapter 23
Chapter 23: The Graveyard of Martial Artists.
Mu-yeong was in an exceptionally good mood.
Taking out Choo Geol-gae had earned him a bag stuffed to the brim with Fragmentation Grenades and Javelins.
Not a beggar at all—more like a gift bundle.
Even at a glance, the bags looked dense and considerably heavy.
And there were two of them.
Thud, thud.
Mu-yeong tapped the bottom of each bag to gauge the count.
At minimum, fifty each. Combined, the math came out to an absurd hundred.
Saying he'd swept up every explosive on the entire map wouldn't have been an exaggeration.
"Already the second safe zone, and the Gas moves fast."
Mu-yeong chuckled to himself and stood up.
Just as Choo Geol-gae had done, he slung a bag over each shoulder.
It wasn't as heavy as he'd expected.
If anything, it was on the lighter side.
Secondary weapons that weighed less than their size suggested.
Aside from a faint rattling when he moved, there was nothing inconvenient about it.
Loaded up nicely—time to get moving.
There was still time before the Gas closed in, but his body was itching and he simply couldn't hold still.
It wasn't as if there was any rule saying he had to wait anyway.
Pop!
Mu-yeong left the Swamp.
He headed toward the center, where the most enemies were likely to be.
Boom boom boom!
Bang bang!
Boom boom boom boom!
Explosions erupted everywhere Mu-yeong passed through.
Each time, a flurry of kill log notifications decorated the screen alongside panicked screams.
[WillWinTournament -> ChocolateLover — Blown to Pieces]
[WillWinTournament -> Cheongsonja — Blown to Pieces]
[WillWinTournament -> Dangsoso — Blown to Pieces]
"How exhilarating."
Had Choo Geol-gae been doing something this fun all by himself this whole time?
If he'd stuck to just a gun, he'd have missed out on half of life's pleasures.
Mu-yeong's grin stretched from ear to ear as he bounded about.
He spread his Energy Sense as wide as it would go, heading wherever he detected a presence.
At that same moment.
The commentary broadcast watching it all in real time erupted into chaos.
—Is this guy insane?? lolololol
—He's the real Bomber Killer lol
—Wasn't that Dangsoso he just killed?
—Yeah that's right.
—Guy was famous for handling Javelins well and he just got blown up like nothing.
Like some kind of death god, people died everywhere he passed through.
And not just ordinary players—these were people with respectable rankings.
From Gold at the lowest to Predator at the highest.
And he was handling them faster and more decisively than even Choo Geol-gae ever had.
Not a single throw wasted—calculated like a machine, tossing only the exact number needed.
And every one of them hit.
"Is this actually a legitimate play style? Even watching it with my own eyes, I can't bring myself to believe it!"
"I'm commentating right now, but I honestly don't know how to explain this. He looks like he's just throwing them randomly, but they detonate the moment they arrive…… This is—well, this is an extraordinary technique that gives you no time to dodge!"
"Exactly. Seeing even some of the top-tier players fall to it says everything about his level of mastery."
"Poison Phoenix Dangsoso, Peerless Spear Cheongsonja, Black Phantom Ghost Gu Yu-do…… My goodness, truly remarkable!"
Kim Cheol and Song Jae-woo had completely fallen for the mysterious player.
Using no gun in a gunfight—what a refreshing sight!
Recklessly roaming the entire map without sparing himself!
At times they found themselves unconsciously pumping their fists in support.
As commentators, it was only natural.
Having attended countless tournaments big and small, they'd come to notice one common thread.
Everyone would stoop to dirty tactics just to win somehow.
Holding a favorable position and camping for minutes on end, or picking enemies off from far away with a Sniper Rifle.
They were forced to keep watching that kind of yawn-inducing, tedious footage.
And they even had to commentate on it.
Of course, they understood.
Prize money and prestige were on the line.
That's what they were hired to do.
Bang!
"Ah, another victim has fallen! Who is it this time?"
"That was Master Tier's Sa Dal-pyeong! He's been eliminated without getting a single hit in. What a shame!"
"When explosives are being scattered in every direction like that, it's only natural you can't keep your head straight! Bombs are equal-opportunity after all!"
But what was that satisfying boom echoing in their ears, and that incredible speed of movement?
It felt like something had cleared up deep in their chests, like taking a digestive after a heavy meal.
Kim Cheol let out a low whistle and shifted in his seat.
How long had it been since a commentary session had been this fun?
He checked the remaining player count while watching the Unranked player's screen flash through one backdrop after another.
Eleven left. I'm hoping he plays it a little safe from here.
He was supposed to stay neutral, but not this time.
Now he just wanted him to hide somewhere—a building, a tree, anywhere—and secure a spot in the top rankings.
That way, they'd get to see him again in the main rounds.
Whether that wish got through or not, the runaway locomotive came to a brief stop.
It was the moment the next safe zone position was determined.
"Ah, this isn't good. The safe zone has landed completely on the opposite side."
"That means ten players will all be waiting in that narrow space—and he has to push through all of them."
"Everyone still alive at this point is no pushover…… Just how will he navigate this obstacle?"
Mu-yeong, now commanding the full attention of Kim Cheol and Song Jae-woo.
He was currently deep in thought.
The safe zone landed in the most wretched spot possible.
Maybe he'd picked up Choo Geol-gae's energy?
Of course, if he had the Peacemaker in hand, there'd be no need to worry like this.
But even after eliminating so many players, there hadn't been so much as a glimpse of the Peacemaker.
In a way, it made sense.
A gun that even pros struggled to use—why would anyone carry that heavy thing around?
They'd have discarded it long ago.
Still, ten players remain. I only need to deal with five more.
Even without Mu-yeong's involvement, if they started killing each other, the game would become much easier.
That would be the ideal outcome, but one could never be sure.
Assuming the worst at all times was the only way to avoid mistakes.
Mu-yeong stared steadily at the minimap.
The final terrain: a desolate stone rubble field riddled with rocks of every size.
Now, where would the ambushers be hiding?
Honestly, it was obvious.
They'd all be perched on top of those high rocks, waiting.
Trudge.
Mu-yeong walked slowly forward, spreading his Energy Sense as wide as it would go.
The first presence he detected was at the top of a rock diagonally ahead, about 100 meters away.
Hiding well, aren't you.
He would have loved to blow up that rock and send everyone tumbling down, but Battle Attack was a game that was simultaneously realistic and unrealistic.
What did that mean exactly?
Something like a glass window would shatter with a single tap.
But terrain features like buildings and rocks could take any amount of damage and never collapse or disappear.
An infuriating design choice, but it made no difference to Mu-yeong.
The so-called angle bomb—an angled throw.
Even without a direct line of sight, the ways to use it were limitless.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
One up, one to the right, one to the left.
He threw three Fragmentation Grenades with staggered timing.
"Wha—what!?"
A startled cry, and the kill score ticked up by one.
At the same time, bullets came flying in from the left.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
A hyena.
The type who always held back while others fought, then swept in to steal the spoils.
Their oversight was that Mu-yeong was at full health.
He sent the same gift bundle of three their way.
Boom boom boom!
Then, as if a competition had been triggered, gunfire began ringing out in the distance.
[No Song-baek -> Danwije — G201]
[No Song-baek -> Naengcheonhwa — G201]
"This works out nicely for me."
His bags had lightened up at just the right time.
Mu-yeong moved at a leisurely stroll, as if out for a walk.
The survivor count dropped rapidly, and the game was over in less than a minute.
.
.
.
.
The fierce qualifier had come to an end.
The final five survivors from Mu-yeong's bracket were as follows:
Predator Rank 12, No Song-baek.
Predator Rank 37, Hundred Herbs.
Grand Master Rank 352, Kim Ji-su.
Master Rank 804, Yang So-min.
Unranked, WillWinTournament.
The Daehwasan Sect's sect leader, Mae Han-gyeom, slapped his knee upon seeing the results.
"Hahaha! That's my disciple Song-baek for you! Just as I expected—passing with an absolutely overwhelming record!"
"Did he not win pro-level tournaments as casually as eating a meal? A result like this was only natural."
"That's right, that's right! That's exactly why I can't help but dote on Song-baek! Handsome, kind, and strong. He's truly a blessing to Daehwasan, a blessing!"
"Quite so! Look at every other sect and you won't find anyone like him! Hahaha!"
Combat Commander Jang Mu-ryeong laughed along, joining in wholeheartedly.
Mae Han-gyeom clapped until his smile reached his ears, expressing his delight fully.
"How did the others fare? Did many pass the qualifiers?"
"From what I've heard, two from Shaolin, three from Wudang, and one from Kunlun."
"Fewer than I'd have thought?"
"Surely the result of neglecting their training."
"Tsk tsk, serves them right. Should've managed their disciples properly."
"Thanks to that, your presence at the next gathering will carry quite a bit more weight, won't it? The other sects haven't produced anything noteworthy lately."
"Ha! This is going to be quite something, seeing the looks on their faces."
A peaceful era, unlike the old days when the threat of war loomed constantly.
The sect leaders of the various sects, with more time on their hands than they knew what to do with, held monthly gatherings.
And what did they discuss at these meetings?
Bragging about their disciples, naturally.
—Ah, nothing remarkable, but apparently one of mine took first place in the rankings this time around? Though it's not a very well-known game, so I'm a little embarrassed to mention it.
—Haha, one of mine set a new speedrun record recently. Though the time gap wasn't that large, so apparently he intends to try again.
—My youngest didn't set a record per se, but apparently came close? Already such a promising child for the future. Haha!
This sort of roundabout, barely-disguised bragging had become fashionable.
Of course, it wasn't a culture entirely absent from the Martial World either.
The frequency had simply increased.
Why, one might ask? Because there was nothing else to do.
There was no longer any particular need to run a sect with burning intensity.
They still trained disciples, yes—but not with the bloodshot dedication of the old Martial World.
And on top of that, the government issued subsidies in the name of keeping them out of trouble.
Paradise.
A paradise where you could idle all day long.
"The last time, that fellow from the Cheongseong Sect just wouldn't stop running his mouth. My ears ached just from listening, really—over something so trivial."
"This time, you'll be able to pay him back in full."
"Exactly. By the way—what on earth is that?"
Mae Han-gyeom picked at his ear and jutted his chin toward the TV.
The screen was displaying the list of main round qualifiers.
The Combat Commander, sensing his sect leader's irritation, spoke carefully.
"The Unranked player…… is that what you mean?"
"No matter how I think about it, I can't make sense of it. From what I hear, his level is only 17—how can he possibly be in the same bracket as Song-baek?"
"We haven't been able to gather any information yet. Even the commentators seemed completely in the dark."
"Hmph, I don't like it. At the start, the cameras were fixed on our Song-baek—and then from the middle, that nobody stole all the attention."
"That is so."
"What's so impressive about throwing a few little bombs accurately, I ask you. Tsk."
Mae Han-gyeom stroked his mustache and quietly leaned forward.
"Look into it. He could well be someone the Nine Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Families poured everything into raising. No matter what, his identity must be uncovered—and faster than anyone else."
"Understood."
"The Shadow Corps can be dispatched if necessary. I'll give them advance word."
"Th-those people are……?"
"Now now, reconnaissance. Reconnaissance. Though an accidental clash could, of course, occur."
"……Understood."
With the Combat Commander's reply, Mae Han-gyeom dismissed him.
Left alone, Mae Han-gyeom took a quiet sip of water.
His glistening lips parted softly.
"Daehwasan must always be at the top. That has never changed, and it never will."
Anyone who stood in the way of that would not be forgiven.
Mae Han-gyeom's sharp gaze was fixed on the official broadcast as it compiled the final results.
[Kill Score]
No Song-baek: 13 kills.
WillWinTournament: 12 kills.
Since the qualifier only required surviving until the final five, there was no need to fight to the very last player.
Which meant that on rare occasions, someone who clung on with sheer stubborn survival would slip through.
Once in a blue moon, one or two players.
Officially, they were all the same main round qualifiers—but an unspoken ranking formed based on how many enemies each had eliminated.
Most people would likely see his disciple and the one with the arrogant username as equals.
"I don't like it."
Mae Han-gyeom's displeasure only deepened.
As he watched someone eliminating Choo Geol-gae with a grenade in the highlight reel.