TSBIRBV Ch 215

Chapter 215. Revelation (10)

Crash!

Yegyeol caught his opponent in his blurred vision.

Two of them? No. Just one.

It felt like there were two.

He was certain he had killed them, yet the sight of his opponent standing upright on two legs was absurd.

Was the blast too much of a shock?

The car had flipped without warning, its door torn off; even for an Esper, such an impact could have impaired cognition. Perhaps the enemy was a psychic Esper who had planted confusion in his mind.

Yegyeol forced himself to assess the situation calmly.

His opponent was speaking to him. The ringing in his ears from the explosion made it impossible to make out the words, but he had clearly said he was from the Anti-Esper Coalition. That fledgling S-rank had also claimed that if Yegyeol was not an ally, he was a threat to be eliminated in advance.

So they open with conversation—trying to win me over?

He deliberately avoided looking at the wreckage of the car. If his opponent sensed that his parents still distracted him, they might strike the car to divert his attention.

If so, his course of action was obvious.

Force them to see only me.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Yegyeol lunged.

Every nerve of his body burned alive with sensation. The instant he moved, his fury poured wholly into his leap.

His opponent had no intention of being taken so easily, dodging his first strike. Yegyeol had expected as much. He had never undergone real training, so he knew his opening blow would not land. This was merely a greeting.

The enemy’s reflexes were swift. They chose to deflect and evade rather than meet him head-on. Since the man wanted Yegyeol alive while Yegyeol intended to kill, there was still a chance.

Though an S-rank Esper, Yegyeol had little understanding of what he could truly do. He would learn only by fighting.

Victory would depend on whether Yegyeol mastered combat before his enemy gave up trying to recruit him.

In an instant’s judgment, he surged forward again. His opponent’s reaction was fractionally slower this time. His lips moved, but still Yegyeol could not hear the words. His ears were ringing.

Irritatingly, the spot his foe dodged into was blocked by an obstacle. He blinked, belatedly recognizing it as a large jeep—their vehicle.

You knew I was a lightning Esper, kitted yourself out in insulated gear, and now you hide behind a car?

Yegyeol’s hand did not falter. He pressed it to the hood.

At his touch, lightning coursed out like venom spreading through flesh. Black veins crackled across the frame like spiderwebs. The sight was sinister, foreboding.

When the black fissures reached the far edge, the massive jeep collapsed and disintegrated into dust.

The corner of Yegyeol’s brow lifted.

I expected it to explode.

There had been an engine, yet instead of combusting, the vehicle crumbled like ashes.

He lowered his gaze to his own hand. Another oddity revealed itself.

There was no trace of restraint. His output was overwhelming, as though no seal had ever existed. Ordinarily the pain of one’s brain searing would accompany such exertion, but instead he felt suffused with intoxicating omnipotence.

Perhaps this was the famed rampage.

Regardless—strength was strength.

Yegyeol bared his teeth in a feral grin.

I’ll kill him.

Everyone ever did was take from him. From his current life back into the countless past, the story was the same.

If it was all going to be stolen again, then clinging to at least an enemy’s life would make the theft less bitter.

Crash!

The asphalt split beneath him. His enemy continued dodging rather than striking, a pattern Yegyeol quickly memorized. Left or right? Every time, he observed.

Limited space meant predictable movement. Once he knew the habit, his predictions would be easier.

But even as he analyzed each motion, he failed to realize that this cramped space was not an open road but indoors.

He fought upon a narrow coastal highway; construction blocked one side, the overturned car the other. There was nowhere to retreat.

Again he launched himself, flooring the ground beneath his feet.

[…… ……. ……!]

A strangely familiar cry reached him, yet Yegyeol ignored it. His killing intent surged, and with it the power he had long suppressed. Lightning flared at his fists, golden bolts lashing his target.

Did I land it?

No.

He had thought his opponent distracted with persuasion, but their vigilance had never lapsed. They evaded again—by the thinnest of margins.

Before regret could surface, Yegyeol felt a chill along his spine. He withdrew swiftly. In the same instant, a silver serpent-like strike slashed through where he had stood.

That was close.

Instinct had saved him.

Clashing repeatedly, Yegyeol realized how sturdy his foe was. This was no ordinary Esper—they were built for direct combat. Even when he tried to shock them through skin contact, their insulation held.

One mercy: his body, burning like coal, felt lighter than in daily life. Always he carried the weight of an elephant upon his shoulders, but now his limbs obeyed instantly. It was wondrous.

He thought it was rage chasing off his migraines, but no—his head was eerily clear.

Even without a Guide, this is possible?

It must be the rampage, fleeting though it was. Yet he knew: time still remained to him.

Though confident he could move faster, he deliberately repeated crude strikes, luring his opponent into familiarity with his rhythm. He feigned weakness, waited for them to believe in a false limit.

Then once more, he leapt beyond expectation.

From his hand streaked lightning, rending earth and shaking the ground.

Crack—craack!

A roadside tree split in two, bursting aflame. Smoke stung his nose.

He did not need to look to know devastation surrounded him.

Still, he could not smile.

Even his finishing strike had not felled them. Through fire and ruin, the nightmare still stood.

Yegyeol’s chest chilled. This one would not fall easily.

Yet he would not surrender. Somewhere lay a weakness. If he burned his life to cinders, perhaps he could drag them down with him.

As he calculated furiously, his enemy suddenly reached out in haste.

The reason became plain—

The sky, the roof, was collapsing.

“What…?”

Yegyeol blinked.

Black shards rained down—but they were not sky.

At last he recognized the discord. This was no outdoor battle; he must be hallucinating from his rampage. He stepped back swiftly to dodge the falling debris.

But indoors, retreat had limits. His back struck against an untouched bed.

His face stiffened.

…So far I’ve been driven back.

In the illusion, his mind parsed the scene swiftly.

This was the car he had ridden with his parents. It had overturned in the attack, but within still sat two people.

Surely dead. If by chance alive, then only barely—without aid they would soon breathe their last.

Yet even so, he could not leave.

They were the ones who, like fools, had clung to a natural disaster in human form and tried desperately to cope.

They had never truly become a family. Still, he wanted at least their bodies intact.

He hunched, arms wrapping protectively around the wreck.

Why is my power never to guard or heal, but only to destroy?

He did not know. And perhaps, in this lifetime, he would never know.

Because here he would die.

Yegyeol shut his eyes. The firestorm closed in. This heat was familiar—he had already endured it once.

Wait… endured it?

Images flashed through his dimming mind—the roar of impact, a broken wrist on the steering wheel, an explosion kindled by his own hand. Blurred like overlapping film, incoherent fragments turned his stomach.

In that sliver of realization, his “enemy” closed the distance.

Crash!

As the ceiling fell, the man cleaved it away, catching Yegyeol in both arms. His grip clamped around Yegyeol’s head as if to crush it.

Madman.

Wasn’t this what he needed? Yegyeol struck him across the face. His palm stung—he had connected.

“Ah…?”

With that sensation, the world warped.

“…Guiding?”

Impossible. His foe was an Esper—he had to be.

As clarity returned, Yegyeol realized the man’s hand was not crushing but shielding his head. The roof, not the sky, was falling.

A Guide had cleaved the debris aside, protecting him.

The ringing in his ears faded. Sound returned.

[It’s time to wake up.]

And so he heard it.

The voice he thought never to hear again.

Disbelieving, Yegyeol opened his eyes.

And there before him was Haryang, blood-soaked, his face laid bare.