As if he had known in advance about the thrust I unleashed, the samurai blocked it and flowed seamlessly into a counterattack.
With a sharp clang, his attack was stopped by me.
The headless samurai, who had been about to continue his assault, suddenly flinched and jumped back. But I didn't do anything.
— ?!
He must have been convinced another attack was coming. After retreating, the headless samurai seemed to sense something strange and twitched.
I laughed to myself and continued. I simply stood there.
And the headless samurai, all by himself like a madman, raised his sword into a defensive stance or tried to counterattack.
Once again, as he charged at me and tried to swing his sword, the headless samurai abruptly pulled his blade back and leapt far away.
"What are you doing all by yourself?"
Naturally, the headless samurai didn't answer.
— This is…!
"That's none of your business, corpse."
What people call Mind's Eye is like a reflex born from long years of battle and experience.
To put it more bluntly—people who've been beaten their whole lives flinch automatically when someone so much as raises a hand, right?
The outcome is different, but the underlying principle is the same.
In other words, for a guy trapped in the illusion called Mind's Eye, all I have to do is make a slight motion as if I'm attacking—
— Ghk…!
And he reacts unconsciously.
Of course, exploiting it like this isn't easy. Even if Mind's Eye is an illusion, it's an illusion built on countless real combat experiences. If your feint is sloppy, they'll see through it.
You need movements that are fake, yet feel real. And to do that, the prerequisite is falling into that illusion once—and then escaping it.
And I succeeded in escaping the trap called Mind's Eye. I kept dragging unconscious reactions up into conscious awareness, over and over, until I finally managed it.
"These so-called 'realms' everyone talks about aren't all that special."
Mind's Eye, Mind Sword, No-Mind State, Unity of Sword and Self, All Rivers Return to One—those so-called "enlightenments." I've fallen for every illusion behind them, and I've also succeeded in breaking free from them.
"So, basically…"
Mind's Eye, sixth sense, all of it is illusion. Humans only have five senses. Even mana is perceived through those five senses everyone is born with.
I can state that with certainty—and I've earned the right to.
The corpse that confidently pulled out Mind's Eye as its so-called ultimate technique was now being beaten nonstop by me, like rice being pounded at a mill during the Lunar New Year.
"Come on!"
I stomped down hard on the sword I'd provoked, then smashed my fist down onto the arm gripping it. The armor wrapped around his arm crumpled like a cardboard box.
"That must hurt."
I'll make sure it doesn't.
I drove my spear with all my strength into the spot where his head should have been. The spear pierced straight through his body and burst out through his backside, while the Paradox Flame continued to burn.
— A… aaaargh!
Kicking off his chest to propel myself backward, I watched him scream. As he thrashed around, his once-intact armor creaked and collapsed inward, and black energy spewed out from where his head should have been.
From the gaps in the crushed armor, rotten blood and pus-like fluids spilled out, and with a dull thud, he collapsed.
I walked up to the corpse, pulled out my spear, and scratched my head as I examined the filth clinging to the shaft.
"Perfect for mixing into rice."
"That's unsanitary. You'd get sick if you ate it."
It's not like I was actually going to eat it. It seemed everyone had been moved to the hotel, because Han Sang-ah was standing nearby before I knew it.
After checking the smartphone issued by the Association, Han Sang-ah spoke.
"The Korea Coast Guard said they'll be arriving soon."
"That's a relief. At least now we've got an excuse to just head back."
At my words, Han Sang-ah replied,
"Aren't you going to deal with the corruption source?"
"No, we have to deal with it. But until the people we rescued recover enough to provide information, I don't plan on moving rashly."
At that, Han Sang-ah's expression visibly brightened. She's usually so expressionless she looks like a carved ivory statue—what's got her showing emotions all of a sudden?
"Then… could you help me with something?"
"Help with what?"
She hesitated slightly at my question.
"Swordsmanship."
"For free?"
There's no such thing as a free lunch. At the very least, she should prepare some kind of lesson fee.
"If it's money, I'm willing to pay generously."
Money, huh.
"What I earn from handling requests is more than enough."
Han Sang-ah clenched both fists tightly.
"Then tell me what you want."
"Let's hear the reason first."
At my words, Han Sang-ah opened her mouth.
"I'm going to end Club Shaddai with my own hands."
"Club Shaddai?"
At my question, she explained.
"One of the Great Eight. You don't know it?"
I knew it. One of the eight most dangerous corruption sources in the world. Club Shaddai is firmly rooted in Tel Aviv, Israel.
And it's also one of Korea's major sources of revenue. Since Israel alone can't contain Club Shaddai—one of the Great Eight—they naturally poured in massive amounts of money to hire hunter companies.
Naturally, Korea's top hunter companies are protecting Israel in exchange for absurd, name-your-price levels of payment.
"That's one hell of a goal."
You could say she's someone who became a hunter at the same time as me. And this is probably her second request as well, just like mine. Yet she's already set her sights on smashing one of the Great Eight.
At my words, Han Sang-ah replied.
"There's a reason."
"Family?"
"Yes."
Han Sang-ah nodded. Well, I guess her parents were killed there or something. I've heard countless long-winded personal tragedies from other people already, so none of it really moves me anymore.
I've learned, down to my bones, that there's no limit to the horrific things people can do to one another.
"Sounds like you've already said everything you needed to."
"I don't need advice. I need instruction."
After finishing her sentence, Han Sang-ah rummaged through her pocket and handed me a business card.
"Geumyang Group?"
"Market cap: 257 trillion won. My family owns it."
I let out a small whistle. Han Sang-ah was a chaebol heiress?
"So you're the daughter of a very impressive family."
I didn't bother asking why someone like her ended up doing something as dangerous as being a hunter. She'd said she had a goal.
"The current owner is my grandfather, and I've already given up on the succession fight. I have no influence over how the company is run."
In other words, Han Sang-ah didn't really have any power. Worse, if she tried to leverage the Geumyang Group owner family name recklessly, her relatives—locked in a succession battle—would immediately bare their fangs and try to carve her up. That was her explanation.
Instead, her grandfather seemed genuinely pleased that she'd chosen to become a hunter, and spared no effort in supporting her.
"Figures. You can't exactly run a conglomerate while working as a hunter."
"And on top of that, he's probably already heard that I have talent. If even one family member belongs to a hunter company—or succeeds in founding one themselves…"
That would be incredibly reassuring. In the old days, it'd be like a chaebol family producing a prosecutor or judge. Supporting Han Sang-ah was more than worth the investment.
"The reason my mana capacity is so high is because I received a lot of support."
I snorted at that.
"Mana capacity is important, sure. But there are plenty of things that matter more."
As I'd said before, Han Sang-ah's innate qualities were excellent.
In any case, one thing was clear: she had money. And befriending rich people is always welcome.
"I'll help you until the people we rescued regain consciousness."
"Thank you. And the price?"
I answered simply.
"Elixirs. But I won't ask for anything too hard to obtain. I'll make a new request every day. For now, this."
I pulled out my smartphone and showed her the first item on the list: a white serpent's gallbladder.
"Will that be enough?"
"More than enough."
I don't really need top-tier elixirs anyway. To strengthen my bloodline, it's enough to channel just a bit more mana than my body can safely handle at once.
"Let's start right away. Take out your sword and assume your stance."
At my words, Han Sang-ah obediently drew her sword and took position.
"The rules are simple. Look with your eyes, listen with your ears, feel with your skin, and smell."
Taste, honestly, isn't very useful in a fight. Combat is done with those four senses.
"But I've heard there's a limit to detecting attacks using just sight and hearing."
"Who told you that?"
What a load of nonsense.
"They say the human eye has a limited frame rate—"
"Right. Then does it make sense for a human to run faster than a truck?"
There are limits to human muscles. No matter how hard you train, you can't outrun a truck going 170 kilometers per hour.
But when we were rescuing people from the shrine and fleeing, I ran faster than the truck Han Sang-ah was driving.
"The physical limits imposed on humans can be overcome by using mana. And that applies to the senses too."
People say bullets are too fast to see and cut? With mana, you can absolutely see them and slice them apart.
"Don't fight on instinct. That's no different from firing long-range artillery without coordinates. Even if you succeeded once by sheer unconscious luck, what you should focus on afterward isn't relying on that instinct—but pulling it up into conscious control."
After finishing my explanation, I kicked my spear up from the ground and swung it sharply toward Han Sang-ah's left shoulder. She reflexively raised her sword and blocked the spear.
"That right there—that was you blocking on instinct."
Before consciously understanding my leg position, muscle movements, or line of sight, her body moved on its own. Once you start relying on that kind of animal behavior, you fall into the illusion called Mind's Eye.
"Think it through. Analyze it. Understand why you thought my attack was aimed at your shoulder."
Data only becomes information after it's analyzed, categorized, and turned into meaningful conclusions. Piling it up haphazardly just turns it into garbage.
And so, for about three hours, I attacked Han Sang-ah with my spear while she desperately blocked and tried to counterattack.
"Again…!"
But every counter was stopped before it could properly land, intercepted by my spear already placed along the sword's path. While we continued our sparring, the Coast Guard arrived with medical staff and began checking on the rescued fishermen.
"It'll take about a week for them to recover."
A week, huh. I nodded. That was plenty of time to have some fun. While the medical team tended to the fishermen at the hotel, Han Sang-ah and I kept sparring.
The sun set, the moon rose and set, and the sun rose again. Then that sun began to sink once more.
"Haa… hhk…"
And during all that time, our sparring never stopped even once. Han Sang-ah's pupils were unfocused, her legs and arms trembling uncontrollably.
"You still haven't snapped out of it."
As she slowly began to lose her grip on consciousness, Han Sang-ah raised her sword to block the spear I swung at her. In that instant, I relaxed my grip on the spear, rushed in, and slapped her across the face.
Smack.
With the sharp sound, Han Sang-ah's head snapped violently to the side.