Chapter 20

Chapter 20
## Chapter 20: The Pursuit of the Headless Samurai

The reanimated dead, governed solely by primitive drive, lacked the mental capacity to simply navigate around the obstacles. They persisted in their mindless charge, slipping and tumbling repeatedly toward the friction-stripped entryway.

“Ugh.”

While that specific bottleneck remained under control, a pained sound from Han Sang-ah drew my attention elsewhere.

“What in the world is that thing?”

A decapitated torso clad in traditional samurai plates gripped a curved blade, locking Han Sang-ah in a fierce struggle. She was losing ground. Behind her cowered a group of people who looked utterly lost.

They were in a wretched state—drained by days of starvation and thirst, coated in filth, their limbs raw and weeping from the tight cords that bound them.

“Trade with me!”

I saw her jaw tighten at my shout.

“Fine.”

She was clearly frustrated by her own performance, but she was too smart to let pride dictate her tactics. As she broke away to secure the captives, I stepped into the gap, intercepting the headless warrior’s strike with a spear wreathed in dark, flickering heat.

“Well, look at you. Did you decide to leave your brain behind and come here just to show off your footwork?”

Naturally, a man without a head wasn’t much for conversation. I deftly turned his blade aside with my polearm and slammed a heavy kick into his protected midsection. It felt like hitting a solid wall of iron, but the force sent the creature skidding backward.

“Freezing.”

I checked my leg as I backed off. A lingering hex. I used the Paradox Flame to incinerate the chill before focusing on its weapon. A foul, violet miasma pulsed along the steel.

It was a sickening energy—the kind of oily, predatory vibe you’d get from a lecherous old man eyeing someone young enough to be his grandchild.

— Offering… must defend.

“Good grief. The carcass talks? Seriously, how do you manage that without a throat?”

The entity shifted into a combat stance.

Despite the perverted nature of its energy, its fundamental technique was rock-solid—organized and precise, like a meticulously built tower. This wasn’t a common grunt; this headless thing was a unique specimen.

“How much longer do you need?”

Han Sang-ah’s voice drifted back.

“The last one is clear!”

With the objectives secured, there was no reason to linger. Fighting this thing to the finish wouldn’t be impossible, but it was unnecessary. Why waste the effort?

“It’s been a pleasure.”

As I bid it farewell and retreated, the samurai plunged its katana into the earth. The ground split, and that violet malice surged forth, manifesting as a spectral serpent snapping at my heels.

I didn’t bother blocking. I stayed mobile, sidestepping the phantom fangs and vaulting onto the roof of the mid-sized van.

“Since we’re in this neck of the woods, how about a little local flavor? Hey, okay!”

I bellowed the phrase and slammed my spear into the vehicle’s roof.

With a violent roar and the screech of rubber, the van lurched forward like an enraged beast.

“Stay away from the entrance! We’ll lose traction on that surface!”

“I have eyes, I can see the road!”

I shouted from my precarious perch, and the driver fired back instantly.

“Han Sang-ah, the blade!”

In response to my demand, an arm reached out from the window holding a sword. I snatched it, flooded my gauntlet with energy, and launched myself off the roof, flying forward.

Moving at a pace that outstripped the vehicle, I became a whirlwind of steel, hacking through dense brush, thickets, shambling corpses, and lingering spirits to forge a path.

“Push it! Faster!”

A single surge of mana caused dozens of spectral sword-trails to flicker in the air before vanishing.

They manifested in a heartbeat and disappeared just as fast.

“Just like my bank balance on payday.”

I sheared through the mountain’s overgrowth like a razor through hair, carving out a corridor until we finally reached a paved thoroughfare.

“I need to drop our speed—can you assist?”

“I’ve got it.”

Taking a deep breath at Han Sang-ah’s request, I leaped ahead of the van and planted my feet. As the heavy vehicle bore down on me at 150 kph, I extended my palms, channeling the full power of my bracelet.

I caught the momentum of the charging van, absorbing the shock and forcing its weight into a controlled slide, yanking its trajectory in line.

The acrid scent of scorched rubber filled my lungs as fresh black marks stained the asphalt. With a smooth motion, I jumped back on.

“Don’t stop until we hit the docks.”

If we reached the water, the rescue mission for the fishermen would be a success. Seven people saved.

“Less than I hoped for. No signs of the others?”

Han Sang-ah shook her head solemnly.

“Want to ask them for details?”

I declined with a wave of my hand.

“Not yet. Give them a moment to breathe.”

There was no telling the duration of their nightmare on this island. It had likely been an eternity. Priority one was warmth, food, and rest.

Though, feeding people who had been starving for that long was a delicate process. Refeeding complications were no joke. Regardless, they needed peace first.

The questions about the missing could wait.

“We need to alert the authorities and get some paramedics on standby.”

“Agreed.”

I wasn’t a medical professional; I had no idea what kind of specialized trauma care they required. I looked back at the huddle of survivors.

“Are there any others left behind?”

“They’re… all gone,” one man whispered, his voice a raspy ghost of itself.

“That settles it, then.”

At the very least, it meant we didn’t have to turn back for a suicide mission.

“They just don’t quit, do they?”

Han Sang-ah muttered, her eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where the tide of undead and spirits continued their chase.

“The leader is still on us.”

At the head of the swarm was the headless samurai I’d encountered earlier.

“I wonder where he parked his horse to start sprinting like that.”

Muttering to myself, I climbed over into the rear section where the survivors were resting.

“Found it.”

I spotted the sturdy green equipment cart we’d brought along.

“What’s the plan?”

“A little high-speed recreation.”

I secured the survivors with belts, lashed the cart’s handle to the van’s frame with a length of heavy rope, and kicked the rear doors wide.

“Keep it steady!”

With that, I took a leap of faith, riding the towed cart right out into the wind.

The van roared ahead. The cart wailed as its wheels screamed against the road. Balancing on the vibrating platform, I gripped the rope with one hand, tossing a smirk at the headless samurai leading the charge.

“Still following?”

The wheels were on the verge of disintegrating at this velocity—hardly surprising given they weren’t designed for highway speeds.

But it didn’t matter. I had already used the Paradox Flame to eliminate the friction within the axle assemblies.

Without friction, there was no heat to melt the components. Durability was the only real issue. The Paradox Flame was a tool of erasure—it didn’t reinforce or heal.

Even as my power grew, it only allowed me to burn through structural integrity faster. But I had a backup plan. I had already stripped the friction from the cart’s underside as well.

If the wheels failed? The frictionless chassis would glide over the asphalt like a board on snow, allowing this madness to continue.

“I’ve always wanted to try a stunt like this.”

I lunged with my spear in one hand; the creature leapt, parrying with its blade.

Steel met steel in a frantic rhythm, sparks showering the road with every contact. Each time the van swerved, my cart swung in a wild, wide arc.

“Just… give it a rest! Why are you so obsessed?”

I landed a solid kick on its chest, sending the samurai tumbling back. It flipped effortlessly in midair, landing in a sprint to resume the chase.

Being dead certainly had its perks when it came to stamina. Finally, a sharp snap signaled the death of the cart’s wheels under the strain.

The metal belly hit the road. Just then, the van veered into a sharp turn.

“Kh!”

I hauled back on the rope, and the momentum sent me and the cart flying upward in a massive, sweeping loop. Even then, the headless warrior and his cohorts didn’t miss a beat.

I shattered three skulls in mid-flight, deflected the samurai’s edge, and touched down lightly on the upturned cart, yanking the lead.

The cart slammed back onto the pavement, and I landed perfectly on top of it.

“Distance?”

“Nearly there! We’ve arrived!”

I exhaled as she shouted. Suddenly, the pursuing horde was bathed in a brilliant white radiance. Dark smoke began to hiss from their frames as they seized up, frozen in their tracks.

They had hit the boundary of the Talisman Drawing Method. The van screeched to a halt in front of the hotel.

“Yeah, I figured you could handle a little light, headless friend.”

The Talisman Drawing Method wasn’t an instant win against everything. The samurai was smoking like a chimney, but he continued to trudge toward us with grim determination.

The lesser spirits couldn’t withstand the barrier, but this one was clearly a cut above. Still, he wasn’t exactly in peak condition.

“Foolish corpse.”

He had been a match for me when he was whole—did he really think he could win after crawling through all that?

“Get them inside. No food or water until they’re cleared.”

Unchecked consumption could be fatal for them. The medical teams arriving by sea would handle the recovery. Our job was just to keep the perimeter.

Paradox Flame ignited along the length of my spear. Han Sang-ah began the delicate process of moving the survivors into the safety of the hotel.

Unable to simply watch, the headless samurai raised its sword and lunged toward her—but I moved faster.

“Where do you think you’re going? The party’s over here.”

My spear collided with his blade, the energy writhing like a school of predatory fish, seeking any opening in his guard.

— You…

The thing hissed a single word, then suddenly leaped back, centering its weight. It didn’t breathe, yet it looked as though it were gathering its focus.

“Mind’s Eye—he’s reading you. Stay sharp!”

Han Sang-ah, still occupied with the victims, noticed the shift and shouted a warning.

“Mind’s Eye?”

She explained as she worked.

“It’s a sense that transcends the physical—an awakening. He can see the flow of the battle before it happens. How can an undead reach that level…?”

“Oh, that thing.”

I let out a short, dismissive laugh.

That’s just a plateau you stumble into when you spend enough time swinging a weapon.

To put it simply, it’s a mental trick that people mistake for a ‘sixth sense.’

“Don’t underestimate it. It’s a state only master martialists achieve after a lifetime of discipline.”

“What about you? Can you do it?”

She shook her head.

“I’m nowhere near that level. It’s a distant peak.”

“…Pay attention. I’ll only say this once.”

I slid my hand down the shaft of my spear, my eyes locking onto the headless foe.

“The mind doesn’t have eyes.”

It’s a simple truth. Why do people insist on believing in illusions?

Fighting someone caught up in the delusion of the “Mind’s Eye” was actually much simpler for me.

I knew exactly how to break the spell.