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The Demon King of the Master Swordsmanship Chapter 20

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Chapter 20


Hunter.

A term that describes those crazed bloodhounds, driven by money.

It refers to the superhumans so materialistic that they would willingly crawl into hell itself if there was profit to be made there.

Are you curious why I’m suddenly talking about Hunters?

Well, it’s because the place I’m currently at is an auction hosted by the ‘Hunter Union,’ a gathering of those very Hunters.

It’s called the ‘Royal Market.’

“‘The Core of the Stone Ogre’! We’ve been searching everywhere, and it turns out the Union had it all along.”

“Oh? Chairman Park, you’re here too. It must be for the ‘Recovery Potion,’ right? Haha. It’s no surprise, is it? Let’s head in.”

“But the highlight of this auction has to be the ‘Blizzard Skill Book.’ A wide-area ice attribute spell with a freezing status effect… Damn, that’s incredible. I wonder who will take it home.”

“What’s that? ‘Cursed Demon Sword?’ and ‘Asura’s Corpse?’ They’re auctioning off stuff like that too? Tsk… What’s going on with the Union these days?”

As these elegantly dressed individuals, who looked like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine, casually sipped wine while reviewing the auction items, my mother and I strolled through the auction house, arm in arm, using it as a makeshift promenade.

“I must’ve surprised you, calling you out in the middle of your training. Sorry about that, son. But this is how these things work. They call it a guerrilla auction.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I didn’t have much going on anyway.”

“Oh, come on, don’t lie. You’ve got midterms coming up soon, don’t you? I know how nerve-wracking your first midterms can be—I saw it with Soo-hyuk and Min-ji.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got Merhem with me, after all.”

“True, having a competent friend by your side…”

“…!”

“Oh my, did I just say that out loud?”

Mom, I think you just let your true feelings slip…

“Forget what I said.”

“…”

“Forget it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ahem, but don’t overwork that poor princess.”

“I’m not overworking her, Mom. We’re friends, after all.”

“Oh, you…”

Mom lightly smacked my shoulder as I shrugged it off, pretending to be hurt.

But I know, Mom. I know you’re secretly proud. That deeper smile on your face says, “He’s just like me.”

“Ah, this is nice. Going on a date with my son after so long—it’s wonderful.”

“I think so too.”

“You know what? I’m in a good mood. If there’s anything you want, just say the word. Today, it’s on me.”

“Oh! You promise?”

“Of course. We’ve got some time, so how about we head downstairs? There’s a permanent shop down there, and you can sometimes find some decent stuff. Just follow me.”

As I followed Mom’s lead, my mind wandered.

Hunters, the Union, the auction house.

The Hunter Union was formed to protect and enhance the rights of Hunters.

In exchange for the membership fees paid by registered Hunters, the Union advocates for their interests in politics and business. It’s somewhat akin to a mercenary guild in the Empire.

This ‘Royal Market’ is essentially an extension of that advocacy.

Rare items, artifacts obtained from hunting in gates, and new products useful in everyday life are auctioned off, with the proceeds boosting the influence of the Hunters.

To put it bluntly, it’s like this:

You can buy these things because there are Hunters, right? Just give us money, and we’ll get you whatever you need. Where else will you find sellers like us? See, we’re awesome, aren’t we? So useful, right?

It’s a way of proving their value while simultaneously promoting themselves.

It’s an excellent strategy.

Especially for those who lack the ability to hunt but possess wealth and power. This kind of business is bound to succeed.

Here’s a perfect example.

“Huh? A ‘Healing Factor?’ ‘Give your skin a break?’ What is this?”

“It’s a cosmetic product. See? It prevents aging and reduces wrinkles. You press this button, and it helps regenerate your skin while you sleep.”

This ‘Healing Factor’ item lacks the magical energy needed to heal battle wounds.

In truth, it’s an artifact that doesn’t even meet the minimum standards.

But it was effective enough to rejuvenate healthy skin, making it desirable to wealthy people who seek youth.

They get rid of defective goods, make money, and build connections.

How thrifty is that?

They weren’t kidding when they said Hunters are obsessed with money. Their business acumen is extraordinary.

There are other subtle schemes at play here, but let’s leave it at that.

As long as I’m here to enjoy myself, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t have any dealings with the Hunter Union, so as long as my eyes are entertained, it’s all good.

The first place Mom led me to was a weapon shop.

We walked in because the exterior caught my eye, and the owner, recognizing my mother, rushed out to greet us at the door.

“Ah, my dear madam.”

“Oh, no need for all that.”

Heh, she scoffed, but I could tell she wasn’t displeased by her son’s recognition—there was a subtle, proud lift to her shoulders.

And when she asked, “Do you have any good items?” the owner’s eyes lit up.

As if he was about to reveal some hidden treasure, he cautiously brought out a sword, delivering the usual spiel about how he was showing it only to the “Madam.”

But in the end…

Crack!

“…?!”

“…??”

“…It broke.”

It was defective. It broke the moment I struck with it.

As the owner mumbled in disbelief, “This can’t be happening,” we quietly left the shop, leaving him behind with the broken sword.

Next, we went to the adjacent store, a general goods shop.

Once again, the owner came out to greet us at the door.

This time, he gave the same old line about showing something special just for the Madam, and then presented us with a Skill Book.

“I heard that your son has overcome mana depletion. This is a basic magic Skill Book. Once you ‘use’ this, you’ll be able to cast Fire, Water, Wind… er, um…”

The owner couldn’t even finish his explanation.

Because right in front of us, the very magic he was describing began to manifest.

Despite that, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the concept of a ‘Skill Book.’

Acquire skills just by using it? As far as I know, there’s only one method that can do that. If so, it would explain the shallow level of magic knowledge on this planet.

We continued to browse various stores, doing a bit of window shopping. We took a break at a lounge to have some coffee, and while trying to buy a gift for Jun-woo, I ended up breaking a few more swords.

At one point, I spotted a large, magnificent mace and thought about giving it to Merhem, but Mom stopped me, shaking her head with a firm, “Son, that’s not it.” We ended up choosing a hairpin with mana recovery instead.

After wrapping up a fun and productive shopping spree, just as we were about to head back to the auction hall, we stopped in our tracks.

We had come across a treasure I never imagined finding here.

“…Why is this here?”

A dusty glass jar filled with a vile, green liquid.

It was tucked away in the corner of the poison section, nearly invisible, even in that obscure spot.

“Son, what’s wrong? Hm? That’s ‘Beast Impurity.’”

“What did you say? Impurity?”

Why is this being called an impurity?

“When you defeat beasts or monsters, you sometimes get a substance like that. It’s useless, so we call it ‘junk’ or a ‘dud.’”

I was at a loss for words. Did I hear that right?

So here, this is…

“…Garbage?”

“Pretty much. If consumed over a long period, it can cause poisoning, but it’s so rare and so useless that it’s not even good as poison.”

“Can you get more of this?”

“Hmm… How much are we talking?”

“As much as possible.”

In barbarian tribes, during their coming-of-age ceremonies, they undergo a certain procedure.

It’s a ritual designed to give them the strength of a bear and the wisdom of an eagle.

A procedure that reconstructs their bodies to fully unleash their potential, known among warriors as ‘Purging the Marrow.’

And this substance is the key ingredient in that procedure.

It’s known as…

‘Evolution Fluid.’

The true identity of this so-called junk, dud, or Beast Impurity.

I had been complacent.

Why had I been letting the knowledge from my past life go to waste?

Something that was considered worthless in the Empire could be valuable here, and something considered trivial here could be unobtainable in the Empire.

The first example is the ‘Spirit Stone.’

When I brought Baphomet back, the lawyer mentioned that Spirit Stones were incredibly rare here. In the Empire, it’s just a stone, useless unless you’re a Spirit Master.

On the other hand, today’s acquisition, the Evolution Fluid, is a prime example of the latter. In the Empire, it’s worth a fortune, and you might not even be able to buy it, but here, it was gathering dust.

I was complacent, too complacent.

I was so focused on becoming stronger that I overlooked the jewels lying around me!

I must reflect on my past self and strive harder today.

As the auction began, my thoughts solidified into a belief—a certainty.

“Mom! Mom!”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“We have to buy that! We absolutely must!”

“Son, those are cursed weapons. They may look impressive, but they’re practically useless. They’re trash.”

“A curse is still a curse, isn’t it? Just think of it as a gamble and buy it, please. Hurry, hurry! I’ll make you a rich woman, I promise.”

“Sigh, you’re acting strange all of a sudden… Fine, fine. You’re as stubborn as your father.”

Mom picked up the phone in our room, and the auctioneer on the screen immediately reacted with excitement.

“50 million! We have 50 million! The three swords once wielded by ‘Asura,’ known as the six-armed demon god in China, are now at 50 million! Considering that an uncursed Asura sword starts at 10 billion, these three swords for just 50 million! Any higher bids?”

The auctioneer was practically shouting himself hoarse, but the response was pitifully cold.

Why? The answer was simple—they couldn’t remove the curse.

When I first heard this, I was shocked. What nonsense is this? They’re discarding such legendary swords just because they can’t lift the curse?

At best, they’d end up as display pieces, gathering dust in some wealthy collector’s vault.

And even then, it’s unlikely, considering the nature of the curse.

“Sigh, I won the bid. Why did I buy this? I must be losing my mind.”

“You did well, Mom.”

“Ugh, I bought it because you wanted it, but this is dangerous. These are swords cursed by ‘Asura.’ You can’t just mess around with them.”

“Don’t worry about it. You won’t regret today’s choice, I promise.”

Heh. Curses? That’s my specialty.

And, ‘cursed by a demon god’? They’re calling that thing a demon god? Can I laugh at this?

If that’s a demon god, then the stray dogs in the streets are Fenrir. What nonsense.

I know a thing or two about gods, and one thing is certain—they wouldn’t curse something out of pride. Think about it: does a human get angry and curse at an ant? It’s the same thing.

Occasionally, on the rarest of occasions, a god might truly get angry enough to curse something.

But even then, they wouldn’t waste their time cursing an object. Cursing a soul is more effective and efficient—why would a god be foolish enough to curse an inanimate object?

I’ll have to examine it later, but this so-called ‘Asura’ they captured from China is probably at most a high-ranking demon. Maybe on par with Baphomet.

In other words…

“It’s a great source of nutrition for me.”

I licked my lips in anticipation.

And speaking of which, I should make one more thing clear.

“Mom, can you also buy Asura’s corpse for me later?”

“The corpse? Why?”

“I want to make a ‘left arm’ out of it.”

“Left arm?”

“Yes, I already have a right arm, so I need to make a left arm too.”

“My head hurts…”

“I’ll pay you back with one of those cursed swords.”

“…I give up.”

So we eventually scooped up the Asura corpse and a bunch of other overlooked, supposedly useless items like contaminated mana stones—items that everyone else had dismissed as junk but were priceless gems in my eyes—and headed home.

“Haha.”

Making money sure is easy.

A few days later, Kim Yeon-hee stared at the sword in front of her with a complicated expression.

“It’s real.”

The words her son, Park Gi-hyuk, had said at the Royal Market a few days ago came to mind.

“I’ll make you a rich woman, Mom.”

She thought it was a joke.

She assumed her youngest was just being childish.

To Kim Yeon-hee, it was an unfamiliar sight. Since he was young, Park Gi-hyuk had been quiet to the point of timidity.

He was a child who always hesitated, always cautious.

To her, her youngest was always the child that tugged at her heartstrings, and seeing him so determined and assertive was both surprising and endearing.

That’s why she bought him the gift without a second thought, even though she had her doubts.

Her youngest wanted it, after all. His resolve was adorable.

She wasn’t going to crush his spirit over a few bucks.

But then, two days later…

A surprising gift arrived.

From her youngest, Park Gi-hyuk.

Shing!

The blade, drawn from its sheath, gleamed sharply.

This was the real deal. A true masterpiece.

An invaluable sword whose worth couldn’t be easily measured.

And it was certainly not cursed anymore.

“He really… lifted the curse…”

Her son’s confident face flashed through her mind.

So you were serious when you said you’d make me rich?

She felt proud, impressed, and grateful.

“As expected.”

My youngest really does take after me.

Kim Yeon-hee smiled as she admired the reflection of her face in the pure white blade.

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