The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld-Chapter 119

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 119: The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

After returning to my residence, I placed a chair on the rooftop, leaned back, and enjoyed the view of Grunewald.

"I should've brought one up here sooner."

The scenery from up here had a different charm compared to what I saw from my room. The sea breeze blew in from all directions, carrying with it a mix of scents and sounds that gently stimulated my senses.

Looking back, even during my time in Karzan, I had always loved the quiet nights of that port town.

"Yaaaaawn."

I let out a long, drawn-out yawn, as if I were about to unleash a dragon's breath.

"Young master, if you're tired, you should rest inside."

At Peter's words, I shook my head.

"If you're sleepy, go ahead and sleep."

"As your attendant, I can't do that."

"Well, aren't you reliable?"

Jeffrey's guards were on watch, Olivier was busy with various tasks, and the other servants had either finished their long day and gone home or were already asleep. So, the only one by my side now was Peter.

'Looking back, quite a lot has happened.'

Today, I formed a blood alliance with Rudgarda and learned about Ereshkigal's secret. I also shared my own secret with Ulbhild.

"Peter."

"Yes?"

"How did I look from your perspective?"

At my sudden question, Peter blinked and then asked in return.

"Should I be honest?"

"Don't lie."

"Hmm."

Peter seemed to be pondering the right words, so I urged him.

"Stop hesitating and just say it."

"Alright."

Peter scratched his neck as he replied.

"To be honest, there were times when it was hard to keep up with your pace. I think anyone would feel the same."

"Hmm."

"One moment you're navigating the underworld, the next you're luring and capturing a spy, then using that spy to engage in a battle of wits with Young Master Verdzig. And you've also formed an alliance with the Sixth Commander Rudgarda."

"Right."

"Although I did have the chance to help in small ways, it's just... how should I put it?"

Peter spoke as if he were embarrassed.

"Sometimes I worry. Even in the midst of all that, you still find time to train in martial arts and strengthen your body. Aren't you pushing yourself too hard? If you wear yourself out, it could be a big problem. That's what I think."

"Listening to you, it's like you've become my father or something."

I chuckled and turned to look at Peter.

"Hearing it from someone else, I guess I have been living a busy life."

"Exactly."

"I don't have much time, so I have to be busier than others."

Moreover.

"I wasted seven years, so I have to make up for it even more."

"......"

I wouldn't say those seven years were entirely wasted. The steeper and more successful my path becomes, the more others will see it as thorough preparation to build my strength.

'If you think about it that way, misunderstandings aren't always bad.'

Some misconceptions can heighten fear and mystery about who I am. In that sense, it might also sow confusion among my enemies.

“What do you think? Do you think anyone could have expected me to join hands with the daughter of my enemy?”

“……It’s hard to imagine, honestly.”

Peter spoke in a heavy tone.

“Even for me, who’s not directly involved, the thought of you aligning with them feels strange and unsettling.”

“Is that so?”

“No matter how innocent someone might be, the mere fact that they’re tied by blood revenge can easily make people hate them.”

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Peter’s words rang true. How many innocent children had their lives ruined, either killed or enslaved, simply because they were from the families of traitors or enemies?

“To overcome that feeling and join hands with them… it’s something extraordinary, something someone like me could never do.”

“Right. But in truth, it’s simple. We share a common enemy—”

I pointed to the sky.

“And so, we’ve decided to dream the same dream.”

“……The same dream.”

Peter, standing against the sea breeze, suddenly spoke.

“If that’s the case, then I want to be a man who dreams the same dream as you, young master.”

I chuckled.

“It’s not easy. Even people sharing the same bed can dream different dreams.”

“……”

That’s precisely why it’s so rare to find someone who can bring together people from different walks of life and lead them down the same path.

I know this well. The bonds formed by something intangible and immeasurable—like loyalty and romance—can make people incredibly strong and united.

‘And that’s why, paradoxically…’

I need the self-control and principles to not recklessly exploit their trust.

‘If I don’t, I’ll become the very villain I despise—drunk on my own sense of justice.’

“The wind’s getting chilly. Let’s head inside.”

“Yes.”

As I turned, the cold sea breeze brushed against my face. I let the sound of the waves filling the quiet darkness fade from my ears and suddenly looked up.

“Wow, the stars.”

As the night deepened, the starlight grew even clearer. The shimmering halo around the moon shone like a ring carved from silver.

Looking back, how long had it been since I last felt joy at gaining a new ally under a starry night, instead of the anger and regret of the past?

It seemed like I’d be able to sleep deeply tonight.

* * *

Two days had passed since Zizek returned to the base. In other words, the three-day deadline set by Allenvert was almost up.

During that time, the subordinates who had shared the honey diluted with water, gifted by Balthazar, had each achieved significant improvements in their abilities.

‘It’s only natural, really.’

Most of the men in the underworld were in an unbalanced state, lacking mana compared to their combat experience. So, filling that gap naturally led to rapid growth.

This wasn’t so different from how the scions of prestigious families and clans, who had access to abundant elixirs, spirit medicines and superior martial arts, would experience dramatic growth after surviving real battles.

‘Now, the existing members have clearly surpassed the newcomers in skill.’

Incompetent veterans being looked down upon by newcomers would only lead to a breakdown in discipline.

This was the hidden reason behind Zizek’s decision to distribute the spirit medicines unevenly, acknowledging the contributions of the veterans.

‘But I can’t neglect recruiting new members either.’

We’ll recruit capable individuals, but they’ll be placed among the existing members and thoroughly vetted. Those with poor behavior or bad reputations will be weeded out.

Recently, Zizek had been expanding and refining the organization based on these principles.

The wise old man Balthazar took on the role of elder, while the young, strong, and energetic Knut assumed leadership, injecting strength and vitality into the group.

The way this organization operated gave Zizek a lot of inspiration.

‘Fortunately, Rob is smarter than I thought.’

Through this ordeal, Rob had reached the 2nd-tier, gaining enough strength to stand out among the average members and take on a leadership role.

“Smile! Put on a smile! Dress neatly and comb your hair! Just doing that will make you look like fine men from a martial organization, not gloomy underworld thugs!”

With his newfound authority and the position of a leader he had subtly acquired—

“Got it? If you understand, answer me!”

“Yes, sir!”

Rob took charge of whipping the new recruits into shape, preparing them for tasks like assisting in the general store and pawnshop, patrolling, and various other business operations.

“He’s really in his element.”

Zizek chuckled as he watched the scene from the window. Thanks to his experience working in the guild, Rob was handling the instructions and tasks smoothly on his own.

‘But…’

While Zizek nodded inwardly at the sight, he also felt a sense of unease.

‘Time is running out.’

If things went well and Allenvert allied with Eisenach, it would mean Allenvert had secured a solid alliance.

‘There’s an enormous gap in strength, influence, and experience between them and us.’

Zizek’s organization didn’t have the ability to sell exceptional spirit medicines or herbs like Eisenach, nor were their martial prowess anywhere near comparable.

‘But given their position, it’s unlikely they’ll step forward openly.’

It’s no coincidence they’ve been hiding their identities and living in seclusion all this time. As survivors of Eisenach, they inevitably attract many enemies.

‘That’s why we need to grow stronger. That fact remains unchanged.’

By becoming stronger ourselves,

and strengthening the organization,

we’ll eventually swallow up the higher organization, the Black Night Society, and someday…

“Well, well.”

Zizek never imagined he’d harbor such ambitious, almost delusional dreams.

‘It’s absurd.’

But why did he find this absurd thought so appealing?

Whoosh!

Zizek gathered aura at his fingertips. He watched intently as the pulsating aura struggled and writhed with power.

‘Imagine compressing the aura into a round sphere.’

As he did, the aura gained density.

‘Density equals destructive power.’

In truth, this was just a technique he had seen during his time in the underworld—something he thought looked cool but never understood the meaning of.

‘But now I get it.’

If he could wrap this compressed aura around his sword, he could potentially shatter the weapons of opponents whose skills were inferior.

‘…So that’s how it works.’

Zizek was beginning to understand the joy of growing stronger, learning, and evolving.

A man from the underworld, thirsty for knowledge, is different from a man from a prestigious family or clan who finds the flood of learning burdensome and tedious.

He was in a position where he had to cherish even the smallest lessons, savoring them like a drop of water to a thirsty man. Just as Karzan had done, and as the awakened Allenvert was doing now.

‘I’ve grown stronger, and I’ll grow even stronger.’

If he could perfect this technique, he would undoubtedly achieve that.

“Ugh.”

Unable to withstand the surging aura any longer, Zizek hurled it away.

KABOOM!

The aura exploded, crumpling a steel plate. That small, glowing sphere contained enough power to shatter even armor.

“Hahaha.”

Zizek laughed heartily. How exhilarating it was to realize one’s own strength.

“Just a little more, and I’ll have it.”

Once he refined this into a blade-like form and could unleash it as a slash, Zizek would officially reach the 4th-tier.

‘Unexpectedly, I’ve stumbled upon a great opportunity.’

Thanks to his encounter with the Eisenach clan and his subsequent return, Zizek had grown even stronger. With his mana deficiency resolved, it was as if a dam had burst—his power surged, and he reached the late stages of the 3rd-tier in a short time.

Yet, there were still many mountains to climb.

“Just how strong is the boss?”

And Knut and Balthazar—how powerful were they?

The gap was so vast that he couldn’t even begin to gauge their strength. It was like an ant trying to imagine the strength of a human.

“Sigh.”

Zizek let out a deep breath and pulled out a piece of paper. Bridget would arrive after lunch. If he wanted to pass a note to the child, he needed to hurry.

‘…I should also relay that story.’

Zizek began jotting down the things he needed to write.

The tragedies of the Eisenach clan, the existence of Balthazar, Knut, and Tara. The handwritten letter from Lady Lusatia, which they demanded as a condition.

And then…

“Actually, there’s something noteworthy about the Young Master’s terminal condition.”

Before sending Zizek off, Balthazar had lowered his voice and hinted at this.

“Is it some kind of curse?”

Balthazar shook his head firmly.

“It’s different from that.”

Then what could it be?

Zizek pondered as he wrote down the phrase “clues about the terminal condition” and took a deep breath.

“Ugh, I can’t write this. Should I just have Rob ghostwrite it for me?”

To him, the pen is mightier than the sword.

“Calm down, Zizek. It’s not like you’re writing a formal letter—you’re just organizing information to report.”

Muttering to himself, Zizek exhaled deeply and finally wrote the first sentence.

- Young Master Allenvert, I am Zizek, who has pledged loyalty to you under the command of Boss Karzan…

It was an opening line that would undoubtedly make Allenvert laugh, though Zizek had no way of knowing that yet.

“Why is it so noisy outside?”

Zizek raised his head at the commotion coming from somewhere. Opening the window, he saw a few Security Guards from Grunewald standing outside.

“…!”

The sudden arrival of these uninvited guests stiffened Zizek’s expression.

‘Why are they here all of a sudden?’

[Translator - Pot]

[Proofreader - Kawaii]