Foreigner with Dark Hair in Another World

# 334

The heart sank colder than ever before, adding sharpness to the blade. Incredibly condensed anger made me feel kind of refreshed.

- Torr.

A sweat emanates from Keython's body, holding the doorknob.

You betray the organization, so you should be nervous.

But I'm going to die anyway, but I don't think I need to be nervous.

- Profit.

In the heat of tension, Kiston finally opened the door slowly, and the view inside came into his eyes.

"Kishon?"

"What is it?"

"Who the hell is he?"

Inside, it was like the office of a thug.

There was a window in the front, and a bald man was sitting in front of it. I looked at the dressed desk in my own way, and it looked like he was the boss. He's got a lot of scars on his head. Is that why you lost your hair?

And a few furnished tabletops and chairs with murderous looks are sitting around playing card games.

If it had been usual, I would have asked you to hug me, but now I had to figure out the structure of the room. I saw a staircase that rolled my eyeballs and went up to the third floor.

.. Maybe there will be support there.

"You! What are you! Answer me! Kishon!"

These are fucking little bastards.

- Urgh.

They immediately stand up with their extensions lifted. The ability to detect an unpleasant atmosphere is what it is. However, there was not a single person here who looked like a real exhaust expert.

"Keithon! What the hell is that son of a bitch? Why do you look like that?"

"Blood on the knife? What about the guard, Melson?"

"Did you kill him?"

And while they were in combat position, they spoke to Keython. I chewed the whole question and asked Keythorne.

"What about the boss?"

"That guy over there in front of the window is the boss..."

When he spoke, a message burst out of the mouths of the organizers.

"You son of a bitch! Keithon, what are you doing? Uh!"

"You betrayed the organization!"

There are a total of twenty organizers inside, with the head seated on the front. Who else might come down the stairs leading to the third floor? Let's be careful with that.

"Quiet!"

I'm measuring who I'm going to kill first, so the chief yells.

It's a grotesque voice.

"Brother, I haven't seen your face. What happened to my organization? Even with such a cruel weapon... I'd like to talk to you if you don't mind."

"Story? Is this guy talking differently than he looks?"

"If it doesn't work, you can't be in charge."

Of course, there are no problems that are solved verbally.

But there's only one problem that's solved with money.

In fact, if you give me back 100 silver of my money, I can get over this. I have a labour issue, so let's negotiate.

"Then sit these bastards down."

"I can't do that because of security regulations."

"You sound like a rule and you fall for it, you sons of bitches."

The conversation was closed.

"You bastard! Boss! Let's just kill him!"

Then one of the organizers raised his hand axe and shouted:

"I would have told you to be quiet."

"..."

I asked the chief if he had a proper charisma, and he threw down his tail in a word. The chief who looked at me for a moment opened his mouth.

"... so, brother. There must have been a guard at the entrance."

"I was taking a nap, so I just came up. He looked dishonest."

"Then what's the blood on the knife?"

"Keethorne gave me a hand. Look, you're bleeding now, right?"

"Why the hell? What did Keython do?"

"Let's talk nonsense."

I'm not here to talk about this.

I put the knife on my shoulder and said,

"Keythorne stole my money. And he said it was taken from the head of the organization. So I came to get it back. Do you understand?"

"..."

"If you don't want to search, give me my money."

"... how much? Looks like there's been a misunderstanding with our crew. I'll give it back to you, so take it out of your rage."

"100 Silver."

"What?!?!"

I mean, the chief was as frightened as if his head was angry again.

"Amazing? I'm surprised. Stealing 100 silver for my money."

In fact, the principal amount is 5 silver, but roughly 100 silver, combined with interest and labor and mental and physical misrepresentation.

Originally, it came out a little further, but I didn't want to kill useless, so I gave a lot of discounts.

"What nonsense...! Kishon! Tell me! What the hell is going on?"

"Two chiefs, so... that's..."

You son of a bitch... Are you not going to give me my money back?

Then we must kill all the people here.

"No, it's real. Listen, I'm here to get my stolen money back. Just give it back to me and I'll be able to move on without killing anyone. You'll also get a split payment, so choose wisely. I can actually search everything."

If you have a willingness to repay, you can see it.

"Damn it! You sound like a dog and fall asleep! This is not a fucking asshole! Boys, kill him! That kitten must be captured alive!"

- Roger that, chief!

- Whoa!

- Son of a bitch!

- Whoa!!!

- I've been looking for you, you son of a bitch!

The screaming organizers rushed in with an extension.

"These unattractive bastards."

In the end, as always, there was no problem solved by words. I tried to solve it with enough conversation.

- So you don't have to put up with anger anymore.

"Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"

The world was going to look red to see if the blindfold exploded with great anger. Are you trying to kill me because these bastards don't even know how to touch my money?

It's simply beyond audacity, so it's just ridiculous. In the end, we must kill all of Montana.

"Search!"

Organizers with hand axes in three directions have been staring at my head. However, the drunken swordsmen die and are slower than the murderous bees.

You're just gonna catch me at this rate?

"I'm not producing!"

- Boo-hoo!

Swing the knife as it is.

Weapons and armor are higher this way. The only disadvantage I have is my head. But I was no different than a combat expert.

- Faster than anything. At the same time, the heaviest of all.

"Uh-huh?!"

"Knock, knock! It's huge!"

As Claymore's big blade cuts through the space, a fivora emanates between the trajectories. I opened the abdomen of the two of them in an instant, and I put the tip of the knife in the other one's agary.

- Fusik!

"Angle... caution!"

"You know how to take away only the others!"

I killed three in less than three seconds. The members of the organization who had almost landed the assault stopped moving. I was terrified. I read fear in their eyes.

I can't believe these cowardly bastards are making money for robbery. It is indeed a marvelous thing. In battle, there will be a frightened side first... but you don't even know the most basic.

A competent warrior knows how to exploit weakened gaps.

And I am.

- Thousand horsepower.

A competent warrior.

Immediately perform a drill to kill the one who is standing still. Defeat the space itself with swords and barbs, while cutting off the breath of the man who entered the circumstance!

- Wedge!

"Hiiq?!"

"Human scum!"

- Thistle!

Cut off the fourth one's branch.

"Well, what are you guys doing! Kill him! Kill him!"

"Ahhhhhhh!"

"Kill!!!"

Instead of running away from the leader's clashes, the excitement of the organizers pulls out their weapons and enters. I saved the benefits of a long sword and pierced their bristles lightly like a skewer.

"Huff?!"

I repeated it a few times, and in an instant, the organizers died.

These bastards thought they'd rip the slums apart. They'd never fought a full-scale battle or a warrior. They haven't used that many heads at all, and they've never responded to my attacks.

And that's the difference between experience and courage.

- Push.

Already in the office, there was a bloody bump. Red adenocarcinoma bites walls and ceilings and rolls like a watermelon with a cut off head.

Eight members of the organization took less than five minutes to slaughter.

"Die, you twins!"

We need to get rid of these society rocks!

These bastards are the ones who killed Lina's grandmother! Take away the laughter of the bastards! Take my money! Dropping the morals of the world to the ground!

You Nazi Belgian bastards!

This is a light blade with the tears of the Congolese and Jewish people!!!

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"

"Pretty much!"

It was these bastards that Kim Katt, a giant astrologer, was supposed to judge. If it doesn't work, use a knife. Violence alone is a genuine means of communication. I used the knife to talk to Gdrey's cutting edge.

- Bummer!

"You fucking criminals!"

Break chairs and tables with kicks and spread the M.O. to steal everywhere!

"You fucking murderers!"

I can't win even if the bastards who used to roll in the Slum attack in flocks! No Drywards! No Kobolt Guardians! Orcs! Undead didn't kill me either!

"Khhhhhh!!!!"

The limbs and fingers of tissue members exposed to splattering knives embrace the void. It felt like a kind of murder constellation.

"Die!!!!"

"You barbarian!"

The two attack again at the same time, but those who have no armor and no swords to dig through the gap can't dig through my gap at all.

"Kehek!"

Immediately stabs a knife and kills one. Immediately, he retreats step by step, pulling the knife, and then punches again.

"Huff!"

Unilateral victory.

I slaughtered almost all the organizers in the field before I even felt fatigued. All the fatigue was offset by Manah, who was fiercely scouring the whole body. In the red world, the appearance of the enemies was more pronounced than anything else.

"This is what it means to turn this thousand dollar kimcott's wallet."

- Argh...!

- Khhhhhh!

- Mom, Mom...!

"All die. Everyone dies. I beg for my life, I don't beg for my life."

- Phew!

Put a knife in the mother's branch.

"It's all dead."

- Sicilian blood.

"Your miserable life ends here."

The only thing left in the room that was fatigued was the three organizers and the chief. And it was Keithon who sat in the corner and peed, and Lina who hid behind him.

You can't beat me unless you're a skilled warrior in the first place.

"You didn't know it."

Expertly trained muscles and skilled swordsmanship to the extreme.

And an overflowing manna and an absolute ability to operate it.

"Because I did."

This gap cannot be filled with thugs' heads.

"Extermination."

I don't have all the courage, courage, strength, muscle, skill, or experience. You're not touching me. I was kind of thirsty with the blood upside down.

Weak.

Too weak.

At least you can see the tenacity of stealing 100 silver of my money..!

"Hiiq?!"

"Huff!"

Looking at the rest of them, one of them almost blinded and tried to cast a Code of Conduct. Are you preparing for the magic of the spleen?

Immediately pops out and cuts off his branches.

- Yikes.

The flying head fell on the chief's desk.

"I can't believe it! I mean, Joe, the organizers can't, in an instant...!"

The disappointed leader shouts in a desperate tone.

"It's a clear reality. You knew this would happen if you took someone else's money."

"What the hell is going on... why... what, more than anything, did a skilled man like you take 100 silver from Keythorn?"

Oh, that.

"In fact, the money taken was five silver."

"What, what?!?!?!"

I was astonished with my eyes wide open as if my dead mother had come back alive.

"Then what the hell! Why! If you had answered that, I would have given you all my money back! But why would you lie like that?"

I grabbed my head and said,

"You must repay the stolen money in return, you bastard. Don't you know that?"

"Twenty times as many...! There's no money like that!"

Of course not.

"That's why I said split-payment is fine."

"I can't... I can't, I can't...! Sugaaaaah!!!!!"

The leader, who was almost panicked, began to deny reality. I certainly gave you a way and a concrete solution from the beginning.

No matter how out of reality, this is a clear reality.

The boss is responsible for all the murders I've committed.

"Mercin... yes! There was Mercin! We have to get Mercin! Hey! Go upstairs and get Mercin! Quickly!"

"What? Mercin?"

- Pa!

Are you a skilled member of this organization?

"Mercin!!!! Mercin!!!!!"

"Mercin!!!!"

At the end of the day, the last two survivors swiftly protruded up the stairs to the third floor.

"Where are these hounds running off to!"

- Wedge!

Nothing is easier than killing those who show their backs. I immediately threw a sword at the two men who were opening Mercin. "Krog!" "Argh!" It took exactly six seconds to kill the two of them.

"Who the hell is Mercin..."

It was then that I saw the other side of the stairs talking.

"Hah. What idiot came in again?"

- Tough buck.

Someone, someone came down the stairs on the third floor. The voices heard were very neutral.

A man or a woman? Not for a minute.

"You woke up."

Finally, I saw him.

One of the guests in Cipherian costumes walked down from the third floor.

Seeing his face, he was a man who looked like some crazy murderer. Is that voice because of the oral structure?

Anyway, he had a long intestine, and the strangest thing was the tone and tone of his voice.

What are you talking about?