Urban Vagabond: Reload

Kim Muhyuk stopped in place and stared at Gu Hyeonwoo.

He was wearing a white mask that covered only half his face. The mouthline visible beneath the mask was clamped into a straight line, as if speaking for a blunt personality, and the untrimmed stubble along his jaw looked filthy.

Why is he here?

Talbaek Sword Gu Hyeonwoo.

A sect leader of a mid-sized sect, he was also one of the pinnacle experts who represented Jeju Island—despite being only in his mid-thirties.

Kim Muhyuk kept thinking without taking his eyes off that back as it walked away somewhere.

Weren’t you... the one who tried to stop the bloodbath?

A tragic swordsman who stepped forward to prevent the bloodbath, only to be bewitched by Phantom Dream, harm over a hundred people, and then, after belatedly regaining his senses, take his own life.

Kim Muhyuk had believed he knew Gu Hyeonwoo well enough to recite all that in one breath.

But the instant he saw him in the arena wearing that mask, he couldn’t shake the thought that what he “knew” might not be true.

“Um... Mr. Goggle Killer?”

Park Gwangtae followed the direction of Kim Muhyuk’s gaze, spotted something, and—reading the room—started explaining.

“Do you perhaps want to go over there? That’s the lounge the arena fighters use.”

At the entrance to the fighters’ lounge, there was a statue of two demons stabbing each other’s hearts with knives.

After confirming Gu Hyeonwoo going inside, Kim Muhyuk nodded.

“Can I go in right now?”

“Of course! But I’m sorry—only arena fighters and their managers can enter. So the two of you will have to wait...”

As Park Gwangtae looked at Kim Bokja and Shin Kangheon with an awkward expression, Kim Muhyuk spoke to them.

“You two stay with the manager and look around or something. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Pardon? It’s your first time here, so I should guide you—”

Kim Muhyuk turned to Park Gwangtae and spoke quietly.

“I want to look around slowly, by myself.”

It was a calm voice, but it carried pressure that made refusing feel impossible, and Park Gwangtae nodded hard.

He dealt with vicious martial artists every day—seemed his sense for danger was sharp.

“Ah, of course! Take your time and look around! I’ll show these two how to enjoy the arena properly.”

As the two followed Park Gwangtae away, Kim Muhyuk sent them a voice transmission.

[Just in case, secure an escape route.]

[Don’t tell me you’re planning to cause trouble immediately.]

[I’m just saying we should be prepared for the worst.]

The two shook their heads like they didn’t buy it, then left. Kim Muhyuk headed for the lounge.

If Gu Hyeonwoo has Phantom Dream...

The fight over it could break out far sooner than Kim Muhyuk had expected.

*****

The inside of the fighters’ lounge looked like an airport VIP lounge.

There were sofas and massage chairs for resting, and he could see sleep rooms and spaces for washing up.

On one side, food and alcohol were set out so you could eat and drink anytime.

It’s higher-end than the arena I knew... but the atmosphere is the same wherever you go.

The lounge reeked of liquor and killing intent, yet overall it was fairly quiet.

A situation where you might have to kill the person sitting across from you in a few hours wasn’t exactly a good environment for friendly chatter.

“What, a rookie?”

“Is covering your face the trend these days?”

Men with rough scars across their faces started picking a fight the moment Kim Muhyuk walked in. It was behavior meant to crush his spirit early.

But Kim Muhyuk ignored them so cleanly it left them embarrassed, and walked right past. His gaze was locked on Gu Hyeonwoo not far away.

“Is this bastard deaf—!”

As Kim Muhyuk followed Gu Hyeonwoo’s back, one of the men reached out from behind to grab his shoulder.

No—he tried to.

CLAP!

The man dropped to the floor without even understanding what had happened. Only afterward did he feel the hot sting of pain blooming across his cheek.

“Ugh...!”

He was furious, but he didn’t dare shout. It wasn’t hard to imagine what would’ve happened if what Kim Muhyuk swung just now hadn’t been a hand, but a blade.

“...”

“...”

“...”

Kim Muhyuk felt more and more eyes turning toward him, but he simply kept walking at an unhurried pace.

Gu Hyeonwoo. What kind of person are you?

Kim Muhyuk was forcing himself to press down the killing intent rising inside him.

When he first heard the news that the bloodbath had happened—

Kim Muhyuk had despaired and raged at the fact that his parents’ enemy had been a heroic swordsman who tried to save people, and also at the fact that he was already dead.

Even so, how many times had he imagined taking revenge? He’d dreamed—hundreds, thousands of times—of killing Gu Hyeonwoo in the cruelest, most horrific ways.

But later, I tried to understand you.

As he got older and time passed, there were more than a few among the wandering fighters who got bewitched by anomalies, and there were times Kim Muhyuk himself had ended their thread of life.

As The Lone Ghost Kim Muhyuk witnessed, over and over, how people bewitched by anomalies broke down and how much they suffered, each time he realized it was impossible for human will to escape after being swallowed, his urge to kill Gu Hyeonwoo faded a little more.

And after regression, the fact that both of his parents were alive and healthy soothed that old rage.

But what if Talbaek Sword Gu Hyeonwoo had actually been a villain? What if he killed my parents not because he was bewitched by a sword, but by his own will?

“...Then the fantasies I had on all those nights... might become reality.”

At Kim Muhyuk’s murderous mutter, a few people glanced at him.

A moment later, Kim Muhyuk stopped at a distance from Gu Hyeonwoo. He was talking to a man who looked like his manager.

“How many times do I have to tell you! Your matches aren’t fun, so the spectators don’t bet money!”

The short, fat manager looked furious.

And the back of Gu Hyeonwoo—far bigger than him—looked strangely pitiful.

“...This time it’ll be interesting.”

Gu Hyeonwoo replied in a low, hoarse voice. But the fat manager snorted.

“You think I’ll fall for it again? Do you know how much they ride my ass upstairs because of you? They’re screaming at me to cut you loose!”

“This time—”

“That damn ‘this time’! ‘This time’! ‘This time’! You can’t even kill one person, so why the hell did you crawl into an arena in the first place!”

“...”

Gu Hyeonwoo just lowered his head and silently absorbed the man’s rage.

Then an announcement came over the speakers.

“Soon, the match between Hell Hound and the White-Masked Swordsman will begin! Spectators, please finish your betting before it’s too late!”

Gu Hyeonwoo ran a hand over his white mask and said in a calm voice,

“Today, I’ll show you with results.”

He took the elevator inside the lounge down to the arena.

“Hah! Bullshit. You think talking all low makes you something? Who doesn’t have a story in a wrecked life... And who the hell are you?”

When Kim Muhyuk met the fat manager’s eyes, he shrugged.

Then he turned and sat down where he could see the TV clearly.

The screen was already showing the place where the fight would start. It was a cage—walls on all sides—about a twenty-meter radius.

“The fighters are entering! First up, Hell Hound—14 wins, 0 losses, 14 kills! He’s one of the craziest bastards in the arena when it comes to going loud and hot!”

The moment the man called Hell Hound appeared, the crowd’s roar poured down. With tattoos carved all over his face, Hell Hound roared at the spectators.

“On the opposite side, the White-Masked Swordsman enters! The gentleman of the arena! He’s writing a new record—15 wins, 0 losses, zero kills! Will he be able to continue that monumental record even against Hell Hound?”

Before the faintly snide introduction even finished, boos rained down from the crowd.

“Both fighters, prepare! You know the match starts when betting ends, right? Ten seconds remaining!”

The two martial artists faced each other in the center, and on the electronic board attached to the ceiling, the amounts were climbing in real time.

Not just picking the winner or loser—bets on how many minutes until the outcome, whether someone would live or die, which side’s arms or legs would go flying, and more.

On a board the fighters themselves couldn’t see, numbers piled up fast—numbers backed by the fighters’ lives.

“Alright! Betting ends now! 5, 4, 3, 2, 1—match start!”

“WRAAAAGH!”

The instant the match began, Hell Hound charged with a shriek. Fast enough that even a first-rate expert couldn’t afford to be careless. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance and swung his blade.

“Was Hell Hound always that fast?”

“How much shit did they jam into him?”

While the martial artists in the lounge watched Hell Hound’s movement in shock, Kim Muhyuk was watching something else.

Gu Hyeonwoo’s sword.

It’s not a cursed sword.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

The sword Gu Hyeonwoo used to block the attack was an ordinary iron sword.

It couldn’t fool Kim Muhyuk’s spirit sight. Phantom Dream wasn’t on Gu Hyeonwoo.

But he didn’t completely discard his suspicion. There was still the possibility it was stored elsewhere.

Gu Hyeonwoo is holding back on purpose.

Even though there were opportunities to kill Hell Hound several times over, Gu Hyeonwoo fought defensively, doing nothing but blocking and knocking attacks away.

BOOOOOOO!

Boos immediately poured down. To spectators who wanted blood spilling while bodies smashed together, Gu Hyeonwoo’s refined swordsmanship was nothing but a yawn.

“This time my ass—! That bastard—!”

The fat manager’s thick curse burst out, and at that moment, Hell Hound—whose attacks kept getting blocked—forced a reckless rush.

“WRAAAAGH!”

In that instant, Kim Muhyuk’s eyes widened.

Amazingly, Hell Hound’s attack landed.

SHAAAAK-

Blood sprayed into the air. Right as the fight was turning dull, the crowd erupted for the first time.

WAAAAAAAH!

But Kim Muhyuk tilted his head.

The one bleeding from the chest and staggering right now should’ve been Hell Hound, not Gu Hyeonwoo.

He could’ve blocked that... so why?

A moment later, Kim Muhyuk understood the reason.

As if he’d been waiting only for this moment, the announcer shouted.

“White-Masked Swordsman in a life-or-death crisis! Starting now, you have exactly ten seconds for additional betting! Will he fall like this, or will he pull off a reversal—!”

The moment the announcer finished, the numbers on the board started climbing like they’d gone insane.

Out of that, after fees, the winner took five percent. If you simply survived, even the loser could take one percent.

It was an absurdly irrational figure, but the amount alone was reason enough to kill an opponent in the arena.

“Kill him! That white-mask bastard—never liked him from the start!”

“Ten times payout on the upset—LET’S GOOO!”

The martial artists watching from the lounge were swallowed by madness in an instant.

They, too, were gambling addicts who bet on other fighters’ matches.

That was when Gu Hyeonwoo started moving.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

He blocked every attack he’d been letting slide until now, and at the same time stabbed his sword into Hell Hound from all directions. It was movement too fast to believe came from someone with a deep wound in his chest.

Hell Hound, who’d thought he’d already won, faltered in panic and took wounds across his body. His arms and legs were cut, he staggered, and finally he collapsed, unable to support himself.

The blood-drunk spectators shouted as one.

KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!

KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!

KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!

It was an enormous, frenzied scream—so much that killing the opponent felt natural without even realizing it.

Gu Hyeonwoo stood over the fallen Hell Hound with his sword raised. He clamped his blood-soaked chest with his left hand, and in his right hand he held the iron sword, aiming it at his opponent.

“P-please... spare me...”

The man trembling in terror hardly fit the nickname Hell Hound. The crowd’s screams to kill only grew louder.

Even the announcer, voice feverish, urged the White-Masked Swordsman toward murder.

“This is a new record—the highest betting total in any White-Masked Swordsman match so far! If you achieve a kill, an additional two-percent bonus will be paid out! Even with that, you won’t kill him?”

At that moment, the White-Masked Swordsman—who’d been staring down at Hell Hound—swung his iron sword.

THUD!

Gu Hyeonwoo drove the blade in beside Hell Hound’s face, then turned toward the crowd as if it was all over and gave a formal fist-palm salute. It felt less like greeting and more like mockery.

BOOOOOOOOOOO!!

The spectators who hadn’t had their bloodlust satisfied hurled boos and curses, but Gu Hyeonwoo left them behind and staggered out.

“That useless bastard!”

“Give me that bonus! I’ll go cut his throat right now!”

While the enraged martial artists in the lounge cursed and condemned Gu Hyeonwoo, Kim Muhyuk stood up and quietly left the lounge.

“...Doesn’t look like he needs to be killed immediately.”

Outside, Kim Muhyuk went to find Gu Hyeonwoo himself.