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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Chosen Ones (2)
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Volume Four, the fourth prisoner.
In cases like this, he's usually called Four Zero Four. For example, the Fox of Bireung Mountain was known as One Zero One. But he calls himself Four Thousand Four. The 'Zero' has been changed to 'Thousand'.
The term "Four Thousand Four" sounds terribly unfamiliar to Vanguard.
He's used to hearing things like One Zero One, Two Zero Two, Three Zero Three, and so on. It's the first time he's come across a prisoner number with 'Thousand' in the middle.
The Warden scowled deeply as he spoke.
"You said Four Thousand Four?"
"I don't know who this Four Thousand Four is... but yes, I designated the fourth prisoner of Volume Four."
"That guy's Four Thousand Four. Vanguard, mind if I ask why you picked Four Thousand Four?"
Vanguard pointed a finger toward the sky, like a tall man gesturing for flattery.
"What do you mean by that?"
"It means I left it to the heavens. It's the will of heaven."
"The heavens, huh. Calling it the will of heaven doesn't make this any less grave. What do you plan to do, unleashing a demon spawn into the world? I advise you, Vanguard—don't you want to choose someone else?"
Vanguard didn't answer right away. Instead, he furrowed his brow and fell deep into thought.
This was the Nineteen Hells. Anyone imprisoned here could be taken away, no matter who they were.
The Warden had called Four Thousand Four a 'demon spawn'.
There wasn't a single soul here who wasn't a demon spawn. Especially those in Volume Four for murder—they were murderers among murderers, the kind you wouldn't even sit down to eat with.
Four Thousand Four seemed to be the worst of the worst in that regard.
As Vanguard pondered, the Warden added,
"I don't know how you settled on Four Thousand Four, Vanguard... but let me say one thing. There's no record of Four Thousand Four in the roster here. He exists only in the Thunder Prison, unlisted in any documents."
'No... record?'
'A prisoner not on the roster?'
The woman and the tall man exchanged glances.
They had no knowledge of such a case. As far as they knew, everyone locked in the Thunder Prison was listed in the roster.
Vanguard seemed to grasp the Warden's meaning, narrowing his brow even further.
The Warden said,
"Let's make this simple, Vanguard. Pick someone else. Even if you come back in three months instead of six, I won't say a word."
The Warden truly had no intention of releasing Four Thousand Four.
At that moment, the rotund guard—whose release was already confirmed—clasped his hands in a fist salute toward Vanguard and spoke.
"Vanguard, allow me to say something as well. If you insist on Four Thousand Four, I'll stay right here."
"...!"
"I can't share a pot of rice with that monster. He's... the scum of humanity."
Vanguard frowned.
To reiterate, Volume Four's roster listed those categorized under 'murder'. In short, it recorded killers—people deemed fit to be isolated from the human world.
Poisoners who killed with toxins.
Arsonists who killed with fire.
Blade murderers who killed with swords...
All sorts of killers were documented there.
There were plenty of murderers in the world. But not all were confined to the Nineteen Hells. Those in the Nineteen Hells were the ones who feared neither the laws of the land nor the righteous martial world—they mocked them outright.
The Nineteen Hells' Murder Block was a gathering of the worst of the worst.
Yet here, in this place, the guards who watched over these vile killers were refusing one, calling him human scum. If even the Warden was urging against it two or three times... what kind of monster was he?
Four Thousand Four wasn't even listed on the roster.
An unlisted fiend on the roster!
Only one type of prisoner was omitted from the roster entirely.
Those so perilously vile they must never take a single step outside.
The Heavenly Commander executed such prisoners on sight.
The murderers in the Thunder Prison had to have at least a speck of potential for redemption.
Whether they'd killed a few or dozens, if there was even a chance of remorse, a path was opened. Conversely, even a single murderer with no hope of redemption was executed immediately.
By the Warden's and Fatty's accounts, Four Thousand Four had no potential for redemption. Moreover, he'd killed multiple people—and brutally so, enough to make Fatty grind his teeth.
Why hadn't such a man been executed?
There was only one reason. Orders from above. Keep him locked up.
The organization figured he might be useful someday.
Was it okay to release a man like that?
Fatty said,
"He committed his first murder at seven years old. The victim was his sister. They apparently hushed it up back then, but at eight, he killed again. Victims: his parents."
"At seven years old..."
The woman gaped in disbelief.
Fatty ignored her, looking only at Vanguard as he continued.
"From then on, over the next fifteen years, the number he killed approached three hundred. His killing trait? He slaughters anyone he can reach, regardless of age or gender."
Fatty scowled as he spoke, wrinkling his face as much as possible.
Silence hung in the air for a while.
Fatty's words weren't just that Four Thousand Four had killed from a young age or killed many people. Every prisoner in Volume Four was like that.
What Fatty meant was a 'born killer'.
"A man who's killed that many must have quite the notoriety. Do I know him?"
Fatty shook his head.
"He killed two hundred and ninety-eight people without ever revealing himself."
No one even knew about the murders!
If that was true, he must never be let out into the world.
Gulp!
Vanguard swallowed dryly.
He had so many questions about Four Thousand Four.
Who were his victims? Was there proof he'd killed so many? If he'd murdered that much, he must have trained in martial arts—what sect? How skilled was he?
Neither the Warden nor Fatty would answer such questions.
In truth, what Fatty had already revealed was far more information than usual.
For people like Vanguard, what they needed from prisoners was strong martial prowess—and obedience.
Scratch obedience.
The Heavenly Annihilation Division could fully control Thunder Prison inmates. They could make them die without hesitation at a kill order. So obedience wasn't necessary.
What remained was raw power.
Knowing a prisoner's nickname or martial origins made selection easy.
The strong were picked first.
To prevent that, the roster omitted nicknames.
It focused on murder methods, frequency, habits—analyzing the killers' mental states and behaviors.
Four Thousand Four had none of that information.
Compared to that, the Warden and guards had given away too much.
Vanguard clenched his molars as if resolved, then said,
"Hand over Four Thousand Four."
"Then I'll stay here. My pride won't allow me to roam the jianghu with a monster like that."
Fatty clasped his hands in salute.
"No, you're coming too."
Vanguard stared straight at Fatty and said,
"Your selection is already done. In our world... there's no begging off with regrets. Remember this: no stepping back, not even an inch. Only forward. Forget that, and in six months, someone else will stand in your place."
Vanguard had selected One-Four-Six.
Now it was up to the Warden whether to release them or not.
Selections were at Vanguard's discretion. The Warden could comply. But he could also twist it. That was his authority.
"You've refused compromise."
The Warden muttered to himself.
"I can guess what choice you'll make, Warden... but I need the strong ones anyway. And... I'm already marked from above. You hate me too. What's one more mark on a man already crossed out left and right?"
As he spoke, Vanguard unfastened his sword and placed it on the table.
The choice now rested with the Warden. Vanguard had made his intent clear. He'd accept whatever the Warden decided.
The Warden said,
"Four Thousand Four or nothing? Hah hah ha! Don't you know curiosity brings disaster?"
"Honestly, until moments ago, I knew nothing about Four Thousand Four, so no attachment. But now? I have to have him."
"My blocking only piqued your interest more. Even so, the price you're paying is too steep."
As the Warden spoke, he glanced at Fatty.
Fatty smiled faintly as if it was fine and nodded.
He knew what was coming and was signaling it was okay. Let the Warden do as he pleased. He couldn't go with Four Thousand Four.
The Warden's authority... was combat.
The ones Vanguard chose would fight the ones the Warden chose—and win.
The ratio: ten to one.
One person had to defeat ten.
Conditions were identical: martial arts sealed, no weapons. Only fists, feet, and innate strength to kill the opponents.
If Four Thousand Four passed, he'd be released.
If Four Thousand Four failed and died to the ten murderers... Vanguard would be imprisoned. Stripped of all authority, thrown into Four Thousand Four's Thunder Prison cell.
That was the power the Heavenly Commander granted the Warden.
The Heavenly Commander gave the Warden this to ensure each squad leader managed personnel carefully.
Leaders like Vanguard, who lost many members, drew ire. They could be twisted at any time. Maybe this was that time.
Indeed, it was.
From the moment he saw Vanguard, the Warden thought: don't hand over the prisoners easily—twist it this time.
'Just pick, and I'll twist it right away.'
But when Vanguard picked Fatty with flesh and blood ties, he reconsidered. He had to.
If he twisted it, all of Vanguard's selected prisoners would face the same fights.
Deception vs. Deception. Strength vs. Strength fighters. Murder vs. Murder.
With martial arts sealed, even Fatty would face a tough battle.
Fatty was like a little brother—could he make his path even harder? Better to let him go easily.
'Vanguard, you're lucky. Fine, go this time.'
He'd changed his mind. For this once, no twist—he'd release them.
Vanguard seemed to sense the concession but still insisted on Four Thousand Four. He even placed his sword on the table, urging the Warden to use his authority.
Using Fatty as a hostage?
Now the Warden couldn't back down. Pride wouldn't allow it.
As the Warden took Vanguard's sword, he said,
"Then, by the authority granted me... I'll have Four Thousand Four killed. Deception-Strength means nothing here, so Deception-Strength vs. Deception-Strength... and murder vs. murder."
No sooner had the Warden finished than the woman snorted derisively.
"Hmph! That fatty's pissing me off from the start. What's this favoritism? If you're forcing fights, make 'em all fight fair. Deception vs. Deception, Strength vs. Strength, Murder vs. Murder. Deception-Strength vs. Deception-Strength? What's the point if they pit twenty against us? We'll clump our two together. You think a fatass with no weak spots from good eating can't handle some cold-fist-rice-munching inmates, so you're playing games? And Four Thousand Four gets one vs. ten?"
The woman shot at the Warden in crude, informal speech.
The Warden didn't get angry. Instead, a smile crept onto his lips as he replied.
"You don't understand this fight yet. Since you don't know the rules, you must not be from the Thunder Prison. Trained in the Martial Camp, huh? Figures... only One-Four-Six survived the chain kicks."
The Warden shook his head and continued.
"When I call for a fight... all the ones you designated must survive, Vanguard. If even one dies... you go into that cell! That's what this means. In other words! I'm showing mercy right now. Giving at least two a better shot at survival. Hey, girl. Wanna yap some more? Then I'll make it fair."
The woman clamped her mouth shut.
A cruel sneer curled the Warden's lips—a nasty, mocking smile.
"Fatty, you brought this on yourself. No grudges."
Clap!
Fatty clapped his hands vigorously. The sound echoed like thunder.
"Commence!"
In an instant, the guards behind Fatty extended their fingers straight. Then they unleashed a merciless barrage on him.
Thud! Thud-thud-thud! Thud-thud!
Fatty took hits from head to toe, forehead to feet—at least a hundred strikes.
"Huff!"
Fatty let out a sharp gasp.
The Warden eyed the staggering Fatty, as if from anemia, then turned to Vanguard.
"Four Thousand Four's on Basement Level Four. I'll leave ten there and seal the rest. No time limit. Fox of Bireung Mountain's on Basement Level One. Just put him there alone... and leave twenty. Confirm?"
Vanguard shook his head from side to side.