CHAPTER 230. SNIPING
“Thanks for letting me join the Messiah. But then again…”
Jangso-wi, who had been waiting for Black Scythe, suddenly felt a doubt.
“Will Black Scythe really come just because we tell him to? All the way out here to America?”
“He’ll come. Whether with good intentions or bad. Though odds are it’ll be bad.”
“What do you mean? If it’s bad intentions, are you saying he’ll come to kill us or something?”
To his subordinate’s question, Yang Chui-wen didn’t deny it.
“Yeah. He’ll probably come to kill us. He killed the other Twelve Apostles too—no way he leaves us alone.”
“Then shouldn’t we not be here? We should run right now—”
“Jangso-wi.”
Yang Chui-wen’s gaze toward his subordinate sank coldly.
“What are you doing that’s so un-Black Society? Are you suddenly worried about your life now?”
“No, it’s not that—look who we’re dealing with. Rather than dying for nothing, I’d rather—”
“Hey, what do you mean ‘for nothing’? Didn’t you hear the plan? Just getting Black Scythe to come here means we’re halfway successful. It means we’ve been given a chance to crack his skull.”
“Is that… so?”
“So don’t worry. Just stand with us and do your job—draw his attention. So Dark Soul can snipe him cleanly.”
“Understood, boss.”
After giving his shoulder a couple of pats, Yang Chui-wen held a hand out to Spaniard.
“Give me the radio.”
“Here.”
Kzzzt—
Yang Chui-wen turned it on and started with a mic test.
“Can you hear me? Dark Soul?”
-Yeah. Loud and clear.
“You see us?”
-I can see your nostrils in detail.
“Stop saying disgusting things and snipe properly. If you miss even once, you won’t get another chance.”
-Don’t worry about it. If the target stays still, it’s a guaranteed hit.
“Good. We’ll make sure Black Scythe’s attention is locked on us, so you just focus and shoot carefully.”
-I said don’t worry.
Pulling his hand away from the radio, Yang Chui-wen still looked unsatisfied.
“To think our fate’s in the hands of some Jap bastard. Annoying as hell.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
After muttering in Chinese, he handed the radio back to Spaniard and checked the time.
Ten minutes until the appointment.
‘Will he really come?’
He’d bragged confidently to his teammates, but Black Scythe might not show up.
‘It’s obviously a trap. If it were me, I wouldn’t go.’
But because it was Black Scythe, Yang Chui-wen also thought he might come precisely because of that.
Black Scythe would be confident enough to sneer at a trap.
Always at the top—his pride had to be enormous too.
‘And judging by how he dealt with the Twelve Apostles, he’s not the type to leave loose ends. It’s more likely he comes. So we can’t let our guard down.’
With a more serious face than ever, Yang Chui-wen looked at his companions.
“I’m saying this out of caution: if Black Scythe appears, don’t flinch. Look at him straight on. If you look away for no reason, Black Scythe will naturally turn his head too.”
“So you mean we should keep drawing his attention as much as possible, so it’s easier to snipe?”
“Exactly. Spaniard, you go first and pull all eyes with talk about surrendering. Act like you truly want to go under Black Scythe. If it comes to it, all three of you should even drop to your knees—create an opening where he lets his guard down. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now steel yourselves and wait. Today might be the last day of your lives.”
Gulp—
As they swallowed and waited in tense silence…
All three of their gazes snapped to one spot.
Step— step—
A figure in a white mask, carrying an enormous scythe, was walking toward them.
When Dark Soul first got the Sniper class, what he felt was pure ecstasy.
He’d already been an FPS game addict, so it was a familiar job.
‘Yeah. Sniper fits me. Nothing beats that thrill—dropping someone in one shot.’
But reality was, in crude terms, a cesspool.
A twenty-six-year-old otaku who never got a job and stayed home playing games.
That was Dark Soul.
So people around him didn’t look at him kindly.
Family, friends, society’s gaze—none of it.
‘Games are more useful than cigarettes. So why do people look at them through tinted lenses?’
Study. How are you going to eat like that. Get a job. You loser bastard, and so on.
Even though he wasn’t harming anyone, people loved sticking their noses into his life.
‘It’s my life. Why the hell do they interfere and X around?’
You only live once anyway.
Rather than living long and thin, Dark Soul’s creed was to live thick and short—enjoy what you want and then die.
People called it rationalization and pointed fingers, but—
‘What’s the point of living hard? My grades were bottom-tier anyway, my life’s already ruined. Isn’t it fine if I just live however I want and go?’
Even if he endured and struggled and tried, could he ever catch up to the gold-spoon people?
He didn’t want to live desperately, scraping by on wages below average.
If so, Dark Soul figured it was more cost-effective to reduce effort and just eat and play.
‘These days, the only idiots are the ones who work hard. Look— I wished for it to go to hell, and now it really is going to hell, isn’t it?’
In the end, the world turned out exactly like Dark Soul thought.
Not only did effort not get rewarded—1.8 billion people ended up living on borrowed time.
Maybe he had unexpected talent, because Dark Soul had survived well up to now.
But his thoughts had changed.
‘It’s not talent. I just got lucky. And if I screw up, that luck might end today.’
If he missed the shot.
If he failed to assassinate Black Scythe.
Dark Soul’s life might end here.
‘You think I’ll miss? I’m Japan’s Rank 1. You know how many skulls I’ve cracked?’
The Sniper class didn’t require careful calculation like in movies—assembling the rifle, judging wind, distance, muzzle velocity.
All he had to do was pull his sniper rifle out of his inventory, take position, and lie down.
His [Rune of Sniping] boosted his accuracy anyway.
And if he used a prone position instead of a kneeling shot, it tripled.
Meaning he didn’t need to measure all sorts of nonsense like real life.
‘As long as I can put the target in my crosshairs like an FPS game, it’s fine.’
Of course, the rifle had a maximum range, so he did have to consider distance.
In other words, as long as you worried about range, even a complete novice could hit.
‘If I’m shooting prone, there’s no chance I miss. The moment he enters the scope, I can shoot and kill him.’
If he stacked the [Sniping] skill to boost bullet damage, plus the [Piercing] skill that ignored defense, plus the [Hundred-for-Hundred] buff—
He could put a hole in anyone’s head.
‘Come on. Just show up, you Chosun-jing bastard. I’ll kill you in a single shot.’
There was no fear of retaliation.
He was aiming from 1 km away—the maximum range of his current sniper rifle.
As long as the target appeared at the meeting place, he’d kill him.
He stared into the scope with that confidence when—
Kzzzt—
A silent transmission came through.
He couldn’t hear words.
But he knew it was Spaniard’s signal.
They’d agreed: if they spotted Black Scythe, they’d send a wordless transmission.
‘He’s here. Where?’
Through the scope, sure enough—
A suspicious man in a white mask was walking in.
‘That’s Black Scythe.’
He’d never met him in person, but he could tell instinctively.
The scythe in his hands was clearly not ordinary, and he wore the exact same mask he’d seen in the media.
Swallowing dryly, Dark Soul focused all his senses and tracked Black Scythe’s movement through the scope.
‘He entered range, just like the plan. The moment he stops, I shoot and kill him.’
The buff skills were already active.
Like a game, he just had to align the crosshairs and pull the trigger—unlike a real sniper rifle, the shot had no recoil.
Then, one hundred out of one hundred, the target would crumple—neck snapping like a puppet whose strings were cut.
Black Scythe was no exception.
He was human too.
‘Hoo… deep breath. This one shot decides everything.’
As he waited for Black Scythe to stop—
Stop—
Black Scythe finally halted.
‘Now!’
Fweesh—!
The instant the opportunity opened, his finger moved without hesitation.
So fast it impressed even himself.
In a blink, he saw Black Scythe in the scope collapse, spraying brain matter.
‘I… I killed him!’
Ecstasy bloomed across Dark Soul’s face.
“I killed Black Scythe. Hahaha! I killed him! I killed him!”
Even when he zoomed the scope again, it was the same.
A pool of blood was forming from Black Scythe’s head, where he was smashed against the ground.
And the three apostles were smiling as they watched him.
The pride surged up in Dark Soul like a general who’d taken the enemy commander’s head—then a strange thought hit him.
‘Wait. Why isn’t a message popping up? If I killed him, shouldn’t I be the Zone Representative now?’
Was it impossible to steal the representative position by killing someone in reality?
He felt confused, but one thing was certain.
He’d killed the famous Black Scythe.
‘And I was already pissed that that Chosun-jing took first place in every zone. This is perfect. Heh heh heh.’
He was grinning to himself when—
“Found you.”
A voice came from behind his head.
Dark Soul spun around in shock, and his face froze.
Because Black Scythe—the one he’d just killed—was standing there in perfect condition.
“H-how…?”
“How am I alive? Because the one who died wasn’t me.”
At that moment—
Kzzzt—
The radio crackled with a frantic voice.
-What the hell happened, Dark Soul?! The bastard’s corpse suddenly vanished! I saw him spray blood and die right in front of my eyes, but like I was possessed by a ghost, it disappeared clean—hey?! Say something! Why aren’t you answer—
Dark Soul couldn’t answer Yang Chui-wen.
Because the “corpse” he said vanished was right in front of him, scythe leveled.
“If you don’t want to die, you’d better put that gun away. And don’t even think any stupid thoughts.”
Dark Soul flinched.
‘This bastard… his instincts are sharp.’
He’d briefly considered firing a no-scope shot by surprise.
But he decided not to.
If this was truly Black Scythe, resistance would be pointless.
“If you listen well, I won’t kill you, so don’t worry.”
“W-what are you going to do?”
“First, let’s go see your friends.”
When Ryu Min jerked his chin as if ordering him to lead the way, Dark Soul moved, watching his mood.
‘What is he thinking? He won’t let me live. Is he planning to gather everyone in one place and kill us all?’
If that were the case, wouldn’t it be better to resist until the very end?
‘Or maybe this is a chance. If I join with my teammates, maybe there’ll be an opening.’
His teammates weren’t the type to just take it.
Even if they died, they’d choose to die resisting.
Of course, Dark Soul didn’t want to die so meaninglessly.
‘I’ll watch for an opening, and when the others attack Black Scythe, I’ll run.’
If he used them, there might be a chance.
Shouldn’t he survive, even alone?
‘Please. Don’t be too scared, guys. Just make me an opening to run.’
With that desperate thought, he walked until the alleyway—the sniping spot—came into view.
At the entrance, he saw Yang Chui-wen, Jangso-wi, and Spaniard standing stiffly.
And an unfamiliar East Asian woman.
“Welcome, Master.”
The woman bowed politely to Black Scythe.
He didn’t know if it was Korean or what, but it wasn’t that surprising.
Even if a player like Black Scythe had a secretary, it wouldn’t be strange.
The problem was—
It wasn’t only her bowing.
“Welcome! Black Scythe-nim!”
Every single Messiah member was bowing at a ninety-degree angle to Black Scythe.
“W-what is this…”
Shocked by the situation—nothing like what he’d expected—Dark Soul trembled and bit his lip.
“You damn bastards—so you latched onto Black Scythe already!”
They’d clearly clung to him like leeches just to survive.
“I knew it! You shameless bastards with no pride!”
“You’ll be like that soon too.”
“What?”
Hearing Black Scythe’s words, Dark Soul snorted.
“Hmph. What a bakayaro. You can kill me, but you can’t do anything about my heart—”
“Dominate him.”
At Ryu Min’s single command, Yamtti stepped forward.
It didn’t take long for Dark Soul’s eyes to turn hazy.
“I greet you, Master.”
“No. From now on, your master is Black Scythe-nim. Greet him.”
“I greet my new Master.”
Dominated, Dark Soul bent at the waist and bowed.
Looking down at the back of his head, Ryu Min let out a quiet, mocking scoff.
With this, the organization called Messiah disappeared forever.