I’m the Only One With a Different Genre - Chapter 54

Rumble.

“Ah.”

It was only after I saw the dust cloud rising from the crumbling wall that I came back to my senses. A gasp slipped through my parted lips.

[Good, then let’s move on to the next action…!]

‘Wait, wait, stop!’

[What? Why?]

The Demon Sword immediately relinquished control of my body, as if it were following its own earlier words. With the sword dangling in my hand, I gazed at the half-destroyed wall.

‘What should I do about this…?’

Thoughts like ‘It’s a place made for training, so it should be fine, right?’ and ‘What if they ask me to pay for it?’ clashed in my mind.

This kind of dilemma was something I had only experienced in elementary school when playing baseball with friends. Back then, we might break a window of a 98-story skyscraper (the ball bounced everywhere, wreaking havoc inside), or even accidentally crash a spaceship belonging to aliens observing Earth.

The solution to those past situations came to me quickly.

‘Gargandoa, could you go back into my forearm for a second?’

[But I was having so much fun…]

Despite its whining, the Demon Sword complied with my request. It turned a deep crimson and flowed like blood before being absorbed into the engraving on my forearm. The once dimly glowing mark quieted down in an instant.

“Heave…”

“What in the…?”

I glanced around subtly.

There were various slaves: one sitting on the ground trembling, another with their mouth agape in a daze, and yet another who had dropped their sword, just flapping their lips in shock.

They all stared at the ruined wall. I covertly stepped backward, eyeing my surroundings.

‘Alright, let’s take this chance to escape.’

In the world of comedy, it was a given that the last one left was stuck with the blame. It’s a terrifying world where the most clueless one must take all responsibility.

I stifled the sound of my footsteps as I hurriedly left the training arena.

‘I leave it to you!’

After silently bidding farewell to the remaining slaves, I quickly distanced myself from the training ground.

***

‘Damn, how am I supposed to kill this guy?’

A slave who had been crouching in the training ground swallowed dryly, unable to steady their quivering body. They recalled a conversation with a prominent client not long ago.

‘He said the guy’s just overconfident because of his weapon and has no real skill! How can that be just reliance on a weapon? And aside from that, he said not to worry, that he would take care of any monsters killed by the weapon from the storage!’

The slave remembered the trajectory of Lian’s swordplay: the smoothly curving spear and the sharp killing intent hidden within the neat movements. Had they been standing in front of him, they would have been sliced in half.

‘Shit, those guys talked nonsense…’

The slave thought back to another slave they had met recently, who had accepted the job to handle ‘Lian’ before them.

The guy who was always strutting around with his chest puffed out had gone half-mad, screaming not to approach Lian. It had seemed ridiculous at the time.

Wasn’t he just relying on his weapon?

The slave sneered inwardly but didn’t act rashly. Several other slaves were showing the same delayed reaction. That’s why the slave had planned to verify Lian’s abilities with their own eyes before proceeding with the job.

‘If I had known his skills were like that, I would never have accepted the job! They offered too much money for it to be simple…’

Cursing inwardly, the slave stood up, their legs shaking violently.

‘I can’t do it, I absolutely can’t.’

Money was important, but the most crucial thing was their life. Turning down a big client’s request was also life-threatening, but at least there should be a slight chance of survival.

The slave staggered out of the training ground and headed towards the big client.

***

“Tsk..”

Bulging eyes, a face full of wrinkles, a sleek head.

The one the slave referred to as the ‘big client’ sat on a luxurious sofa, tapping the round head of his cane on the floor.

“How can it be so hard to deal with one slave. As I thought, it wasn’t right to entrust this to the lowlifes who dwell in the lower floors!”

His voice was that of a raspy old man, not particularly pleasant to listen to. He tapped his wooden cane on the floor a few more times before stopping abruptly with a loud thud.

He narrowed his eyes and smacked his lips as if he’d spotted prey, like a frog eyeing a bug.

“Still, he seems like quite the useful prey… It might be fun to play with him myself.”

He chuckled and sprang up from the sofa. The small-statured old man, barely taller than an average woman, cast a long shadow as he stood. He tapped the ground with his cane as he exited the room, heading towards his associate’s room.

Having arranged a room nearby, he quickly reached the door of his associate ‘Totogen.’ His shadow stretched out long, and a man stepped out of it as if it were the most natural thing.

He stepped forward confidently and knocked.

Knock knock.

Without waiting for a reply, the man returned to the old man’s shadow. Soon after, Totogen’s servant opened the door.

The servant’s face paled slightly as he recognized the old man and quickly made way.

“Ah.”

“What brings you here, Bansook?”

Totogen greeted his associate warmly upon seeing his face. The old man, or Bansook, tapped his cane on the floor and sat across Totogen on the living room sofa.

“I hear you found an interesting slave recently?”

“Ah…”

Totogen let out an uncharacteristic sigh at Bansook’s words. Bansook’s lips curled into a bizarre smile, which made his wrinkled face twist even more.

“It so happens I’m also interested in that fellow… Can I join in?”

“You?”

“Yes. He seems mentally robust, just my type.”

Bansook laughed lightly, tapping his cane on the ground. Totogen was silent for a moment.

It was customary to let the person who claimed a slave first have their fun before offering it to another as a gift. However, this was rarely the case.

No one wanted to give away their toy just because someone else was aiming for it—especially if they were tired of playing with it.

Hence, anyone looking to claim a slave later, unless of high status, had to seek agreement in advance, just like now.

Totogen honestly wanted to enjoy Lian himself until the slave died. But…

‘It’s hopeless.’

They had failed to kill him with hundreds of monsters and even by pitting him against the top-tier slaves of the upper floors. Now, even direct torment had failed; there was no way left for him to break Lian.

Just in that situation, Bansook came offering help, making it hard to refuse.

‘…Alright, what I want is his despair. It wouldn’t hurt to join hands.’

Totogen looked at Bansook, who was making an equally unpleasant face.

Bansook and Totogen shared similar tastes. Totogen enjoyed watching the minds of pure children crumble, while Bansook took pleasure in breaking the will of strong humans through torture and subjugation.

They had become close for that very reason.

Bansook’s way of breaking a slave’s spirit was too direct for Totogen’s taste, but if it could break Lian’s spirit, he was indifferent to the method now.

“Fine, let’s do that.”

“Kukuk. You’ve made a wise choice.”

Totogen and Bansook joined forces to shatter Lian’s spirit.

***

[Partner, how about this line after defeating an enemy? “Ah, this is the difference between you and me.”]

Where does he get these lines from?

I observed the Demon Sword, which was more exuberant than before, and was now billowing with red energy.

[Or you could say it right at the scene with the sword in hand. “I will not move a single step from here. That way, we’ll be on the same level!” How’s that? Isn’t it great?]

I imagined the Demon Sword rolling on the floor, embarrassed by its own ‘black history’ as it matured, and recorded the line in my head.

[Why aren’t you responding? Oh, is my line too magnificent? It’s only natural since I came up with it. But remember! If you don’t practice, you won’t be able to shout it out when it matters. Let’s practice quickly!]

I looked at the Demon Sword and thought.

‘Did this thing eat something weird?’

As I thought this, I inadvertently looked down at my body.

‘…The Demon Sword only consumed my blood, right?’

Does that mean the growing adolescent angst of the Demon Sword is due to my blood?

‘Eh, probably not.’