The Terminally Ill Young Master is the Mad Dog of the Underworld Chapter 166

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

Chapter 166: As for Me...

It seems I had set my expectations too high.

"Stop right there, you bastard."

I grabbed the wrist of the dealer who was clumsily trying to cheat.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Look at these ridiculous fools."

I tightened my grip on his wrist, and he let out a pained scream.

As he dropped the cards, I picked them up and smirked.

"...Cheating this blatantly is a bit much, don’t you think?"

The dealer, caught red-handed, looked utterly defeated.

Feeling the killing intent, the dealer tried to stammer out an excuse.

"...W-wait, sir, I mean—"

I raised a finger to silence him.

"Don’t raise your voice."

"Looks like you thought I was an easy mark, huh? You’ve crossed the line."

"Wait, sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding—"

"If you get caught cheating, losing a hand is the rule of the gambling world."

I turned to the onlookers and asked, "Isn’t that right? Am I wrong?"

"If that card was hidden in his hand, it’s clearly cheating."

"You guys have a good eye. Real veterans of the gambling scene, huh?"

"Haha, you’re too kind, sir."

I praised the onlookers warmly, then grabbed a stray die and smashed it down on the dealer’s hand.

The die, infused with my mana, crushed the bones in his hand, eliciting a pitiful and horrifying scream.

"What the hell! What’s going on?"

"That guy just smashed the dealer’s hand!"

"What? Who’s this lunatic?"

The guards, who had been patrolling the gambling den, rushed over.

"You! What’s with the ruckus in someone else’s establishment?"

A pig sized man with a spider tattoo shouted at me.

"If you’re here to have fun, have fun and leave. Why are you crippling people?"

I picked my ear and retorted.

"If you get caught cheating, you apologize. What’s with the audacity? Are you in on it too?"

The tattooed pig let out a hollow laugh.

"You’re no ordinary gambler. You’re a professional."

"Did you come here planning this from the start?"

‘Oh? How’d he figure that out?’

It was surprisingly insightful, but of course, I played dumb.

"Ridiculous nonsense. Is this how your establishment treats customers who catch cheaters? Getting angry instead?"

"Shut up and answer the question. Who sent you?"

"Now we’re onto conspiracies? You’re really something."

"Shut it. How many people on this street would dare act so boldly after seeing this spider tattoo? You’re no ordinary guy. You must’ve planned this from the start."

"Wow, that’s quite logical. What’s so special about that crappy tattoo that you’re so confident? Are you guys something special?"

The pig’s forehead bulged with veins.

"How dare you insult the Black Night Society and the Bisakino Brotherhood?"

"What are you talking about? I just said your tattoo was trash, and now you’re overanalyzing."

A punch flew toward me to end the argument. I hurled the bloodied die at the pig’s forehead.

The die, infused with the power of the Seven Stars of the Black Sea Technique, smashed into his nose like a hammer.

The pig, blood gushing from his nose, shouted as the guards swarmed me.

The fight had started as planned, so the first step was a success.

‘Actually, the incident that got me involved with the godfather Daikin started too.’

In that sense, the tattooed pig’s reasoning was quite accurate. Causing trouble in someone else’s establishment and using it as a pretext for a fight is a common way to build justification in this world.

For now, let’s focus on the fight.

I stood up from the chair and naturally moved into a gap in their encirclement.

In the process, I knocked out one annoying guy with a spinning backfist.

‘In a chaotic brawl in a tight space, even a master can’t do much.’

Controlling the distance and dealing with one or two opponents at a time is key.

I dodged a punch from the side and drove a sharp fist into the attacker’s jaw.

The big guy collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

I’m no slouch in hand-to-hand combat either.

To the untrained eye, it might look like crude and brutal punches, but that’s just prejudice from Karzan’s rough appearance.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh."

I weaved through the punches and kicks of several men, striking, kicking, and throwing them.

Then, a knife came at my side.

"Ooh. No hesitation, huh?"

I twisted the attacker’s wrist with a joint-locking technique.

The sound of bones and joints breaking at unnatural angles echoed.

I snatched the dagger he dropped.

"Even your knife is trash. Don’t you maintain it?"

Well, since I took it, it’s only natural to use it.

I stabbed the guy who tried to stab me three times in the neck and stomach, then used the opening to close in on another attacker and slashed his thigh deeply.

An alarming amount of blood poured from his thigh.

"Stop the bleeding. Unless you want to die."

The guy obediently backed off, tearing his clothes to staunch the bleeding.

In an instant, the situation escalated into a bloodbath, and a few guys hesitated, backing away.

"Damn it, everyone draw your weapons!"

"Get your heads straight! Anyone who backs off is dead!"

The senior members kicked the juniors’ asses with a menacing tone.

I clicked my tongue as they drew their blades.

"This is getting worse. You cheat, get caught, and then try to stab people?"

By now, most of the gamblers had fled like the tide, leaving only the Black Night Society members surrounding me.

Just as I was spinning the dagger in my hand—

A booming voice came from the second floor.

Krahel, who had been drinking and gambling on the second floor, stood up.

"And who the hell are you?"

"If you’re going to ask someone’s name, it’s common courtesy to give yours first."

I grinned, covered in blood. I must’ve looked pretty terrifying.

"Fair enough. You’re right."

Krahel also smiled, his expression filled with killing intent.

"My name’s Krahel. I’m an executive of the Black Night Society."

"Krahel, huh? Got it."

Krahel urged impatiently.

"Why? Now it’s your turn to give your name."

"Don’t feel like it."

Krahel seemed to sense something from my attitude and chuckled.

"This bastard really did come here planning this. He’s trying to provoke everyone."

He was more perceptive than he looked.

"Everyone, clear out. We’re closing for today."

As soon as Krahel gave the order, the gamblers who had been watching from a distance quickly gathered their winnings and fled.

"Those pathetic bastards."

Even in the chaos, they were still so thrifty.

"You’d better tell me your name now. I’ll need it for your tombstone."

"So the Black Night Society is in the funeral business too, huh?"

I held up the cheap iron dagger to the light, checking the condition of its blade as I responded.

"Stop with the nonsense and let’s get down to business. First, how do you plan to compensate me for trying to cheat me?"

"You’ve lost your damn mind, haven’t you?"

Krahel let out a hollow laugh.

"You’re the one who ruined today’s business. Don’t expect a painless death."

At least I won’t feel too guilty when I kill you.

"By the way, Krahel."

"Feel like making a bet with me?"

Krahel frowned at my sudden proposal.

"This is a gambling den, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we settle things with a proper wager?"

Krahel gave me a look like I was insane and waved his hand.

The members of the Black Night Society closed in, pointing their spears and swords at me.

I raised my hand to stop Krahel.

"What’s your game now?"

I gathered my share of the winnings and stuffed them into a pouch. It looked like a small, ordinary pouch, but it was actually an artifact imbued with spatial magic. It couldn’t hold people, but it could store a fair amount of items.

‘I didn’t think I’d end up using this here.’

It was originally a gift from Ulbhild, along with the bracelet sword, but I hadn’t had much use for it until now.

"This? It’s an artifact, as you can see. It’s enchanted with spatial magic."

Krahel’s expression changed.

"...You came all the way here to earn pocket money, carrying something that valuable?"

"You’ve been spouting nonsense since earlier."

I scratched my ear and retorted.

"Can’t rich people come here? Weren’t you planning to fleece someone wealthy anyway?"

Can’t deny that, can you? I’ve already heard all about your tricks from Zizek.

"From what I’ve seen, you guys are terrible at running a business. If you’d just apologized when you got caught messing around, we wouldn’t be in this mess."

"Sounds reasonable. But you planned this from the start, didn’t you?"

I smirked. Well, he’s been around the underworld long enough to read the situation.

"Let’s get back to the bet."

Krahel nodded, as if to see how far I’d go.

"The terms are simple. If you kill me, you get the winnings and this artifact."

"And if we can’t kill you?"

"Then it means you’re all dead. I’ll make sure to collect the price for your lousy business practices."

Krahel burst out laughing.

"Are you serious? You think you can take on all of us by yourself?"

"Would you accept the bet if it were any less?"

"You’re completely insane. Are you on something? You’re way too fearless for it to be natural."

Even Krahel, who had been suspicious of my intentions, now seemed convinced I was a madman.

"Do you think I’d stoop to the level of those degenerates?"

"Then you’re just plain crazy."

"You can refuse if you’re scared. So Krahel of the Black Night Society is just a timid man after all."

Krahel gestured, and his underlings brought over a heavy pouch filled with silver, copper, and gold coins.

Krahel tossed the pouch with one hand, despite its considerable weight.

"That’s the wager. If you win the bet, take it."

"Putting on airs, you pathetic fool."

I raised my dagger and declared, "With this, our bet is set."

"What are you all doing? Go and kill—"

Just as the one-sided slaughter was about to begin—

A slow, deliberate applause broke out, completely out of place in the tense situation.

"Mysterious stranger, your bravado is truly impressive."

A nobleman who had been drinking next to Krahel suddenly started clapping.

"Truly remarkable guts. To think there’s still a man in this district who can stand so boldly before Krahel."

I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath.

"Putting on quite the show. Who the hell is this idiot?"

The nobleman, who had just been praised, clutched his chest in shock.

"How... how vulgar! I feel like washing my ears out right now!"

"Wash your ears? Stop overreacting, you spoiled brat."

"W-what did you say? Spoiled brat?"

Despite his attempts to look dignified, his plain face made him pitiful. His face turned bright red.

Krahel seized the opportunity to score points.

"Shall I bring you the head of that insolent fool?"

"Yes! That’s a splendid idea!"

The nobleman pointed at me.

"I thought you were a bold man, but you’re just a foul-mouthed, vulgar brute. Such a man doesn’t deserve to live. Kill him at once."

Anyone watching would think he was the one fighting.

I muttered under my breath, amused by his pompous attitude.

"All talk, huh? You look like you’ve never wrung a chicken’s neck with your own hands."

Instead of the enraged nobleman, Krahel stepped forward.

"Show some respect. This is the third son of Clan Cardovan."

I snorted in response.

"Just a long-winded way of saying you’re a fool."

"Pathetic, if not downright absurd."

How dare a brat from a minor noble clan act so high and mighty?

‘The kingdom’s laws have truly fallen.’

‘I’m the fourth son of the great Grunewald, you fool.’

[Proofreader - Kawaii]

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