I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 241: Even a Ronin Has the Loyalty of a Ronin (14)

Qing turned fully to face him.

"H-hik!"

"Are you going to quiet down now?"

The one-armed warrior promptly stuffed his remaining fist into his mouth, desperately trying to silence himself.

Satisfied, Qing smiled sweetly and continued.

"Since you were being so noisy, you’ll just get ten hits.

But if you make a sound, we start over from the beginning."

She swung the severed arm with a brutal force.

For the poor man, it was an experience unprecedented in the history of humanity.

How many people could claim they’d been slapped with their own shoulder?

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The disgusting sound of flesh smacking flesh echoed through the underground.

Fluid splattered from the severed limb with every swing, and the warrior clamped his mouth shut with all his strength.

At last, ten hits.

Qing casually tossed the now half-shredded arm away.

It wasn’t much of a weapon anymore — too soft, too flimsy, and now, definitely unusable.

"Hmm.

I had something to say...

What was it again?

Hey, Grandpa Eunuch — do you remember what I was about to say?"

"You—you damn—"

Gyeong Damgan’s dreams of corrupting a pure, courageous beauty — a virtuous maiden of the world — were shattered beyond repair.

What stood before him now was nothing but a slaughtering demon in human skin.

"Oh, right!

Where's your boss anyway, Grandpa Eunuch?

I heard the Blood Core Vice Lord himself was supposed to be here, but all I see is the underling left holding the bag."

"Who are you calling an underling!?"

"Why so mad?

If you're the Vice Lord, doesn’t that make you the main guy’s little errand boy?

When the Lord goes to the bathroom, it’s your job to clean up with your tongue, right?

Sounds like an underling to me."

"Who said such blasphemous things?! Lies!

Outrageous slander!"

"But you’re the one getting angry, Grandpa.

When people get defensive like that, it usually means I hit the mark.

And what if that dead Blood Sect grunt over there backs me up?

Says he saw you and your Lord licking each other like degenerates?

Ugh, disgusting.

Everyone, can you imagine it?

Your great commanders... swapping spit with their tongues?

Ugh, I’m gonna be sick."

Of course, no Blood Sect warrior had actually said that.

Qing, who usually avoided outright lies, hadn’t said that anyone confessed it — just cleverly played with her words.

It was a minor trick.

But even so, it was impossible for the Blood Sect warriors to avoid picturing their vice commander as a revolting piece of filth.

"Lies! All lies!"

"I never lie.

I could even swear it on the honor of my sect and master."

"Lies!

You even drag your master’s name through the mud for your falsehoods?!"

"Hmm.

Isn’t that accusation a little much?

What do you all think?"

The Blood Sect warriors fell into total shock.

Their faces twisted as if they were about to vomit everything they'd ever eaten.

No wonder — they had just been force-fed the image of their commander as a disgusting degenerate.

Qing pressed on casually.

"So, about your little lover — I mean, your Lord — where is he anyway?

Still hiding his face?"

"Keep running your mouth like that and—!"

"See?

You’re trying so hard to cover for him.

If he weren’t your secret lover, would you really care this much?

Come on — Blood Sect never gave a damn about loyalty before.

Whoever survives becomes the boss, right?"

All the Blood Sect warriors turned to Gyeong Damgan.

And the more they thought about it, the more it made sense.

It was brilliant, surgical agitation.

Normally, one couldn't carelessly reveal a superior’s whereabouts.

But this was the Blood Sect — a den of cutthroats who’d betray each other without blinking.

Why protect anyone?

"Y-you fools!

You’re not seriously buying this bullshit, are you?!"

"And what about you, sir?

You never really seemed trustworthy until now.

Why should we suddenly trust you?"

"Graaaah!!"

Gyeong Damgan’s face twisted in rage.

At the same time, his Blood Sect warriors began to collapse, foaming at the mouth and convulsing violently.

It was the Queen Gu’s suicide command.

Qing felt it too — the violent thrashing of the Gu parasite squirming inside her belly.

The suicide command sent out a ripple, reaching indiscriminately in all directions — a death sentence meant to wipe out the gathered subordinates along with Qing herself.

Hmm.

Goodbye, little parasite.

If I’d known we'd part ways like this, I would’ve given you a name.

Too late now.

Farewell, my dear "Boozy."

Qing accepted the inevitable — saying goodbye to the Gu parasite who got its name only at the moment of death.

But...

Wasn’t that poison surge a bit too strong?

Are you...

giving me a farewell present?

Heh.

How sweet.

Maybe hearing her thoughts, the Gu's violent thrashing began to slow.

If the Gu could have spoken, maybe it would have said:

"It's fine, you stubborn bitch. I held on."

Huh.

Boozy’s... not dead?

Why?

Qing didn’t understand.

Even the greatest Gu experts in the world wouldn’t have been able to explain what just happened — a tiny miracle.

So there was no way a self-taught Gu amateur like Qing could.

Maybe it was the Blood Poison Human's bizarre resilience.

Maybe the accumulation of untamed toxins inside her helped the Gu develop strange survival instincts.

Or maybe Boozy just stubbornly endured to spite her.

Whatever the case, in the midst of the Blood Sect warriors dying agonizing deaths from the exploding Gu parasites, Qing sprang into action.

Good grief!

Wasting all these perfectly usable lives!

All these bodies — I could've had a week's worth of entertainment!

Qing darted around the dungeon, stomping heads and kicking throats to help the dying warriors along.

Luckily, they were rolling around in pain already, so their heads were right at kicking height.

Thanks to that, she managed to finish them off before any of them could survive the agony.

With one last kick that split a warrior’s skull clean in half, Qing lost her balance and tumbled head over heels.

Her muscles screamed, and her joints creaked painfully.

By the time her frantic final "soccer match" ended, Qing could only roll around weakly on the ground.

"You—you little bitch!"

Gyeong Damgan could only shout helplessly.

He hadn't even had time to react — Qing had moved at a speed far beyond anything normal, burning her internal energy and strength recklessly.

And so, wherever she flew by, heads were split, bodies severed, or warriors sent flying with half their skulls missing.

"Tch.

Rushing it like this... I didn’t even feel anything.

But Grandpa Eunuch — what now?

Just recruit new minions, right? That’s how you Blood Sect guys roll?"

"You—how...?"

"Dunno.

Thought I was gonna die, but guess I lived?

Anyway, quick question.

Those guys who just died — who killed them?

Was it Gyeong Damgan, who triggered the Gu suicide command?

Or the Blood Core itself that unleashed the poison?

Surely you’re not going to blame me for trying to ease their suffering?"

"W-what?

Ease their... suffering?"

Gyeong Damgan faltered.

It sounded absurd.

But at the same time, it somehow made sense — the kind of absurd logic that gnawed at the back of your brain.

Meanwhile, Qing got back up, dusted off her mourning robes, and yanked a sword from one of the fallen corpses.

Sana... Choryeo...

I’m sorry.

I guess I really am a swordswoman after all.

The moment the blade touched her hand, a deep, familiar sense of calm returned.

Qing gave the sword a few sharp swings.

Namgung Shin-jae had once said that Qing’s swordsmanship had reached the level of true sword affinity — the mastery of grasping a sword’s weight and center of gravity instinctively, treating it like a beloved companion.

The balance of this blade was a little off — cheap, no-name trash — but for a random grunt, it was probably good enough.

Holding the sword she dubbed Moonlight Sword No. 10, Qing spoke calmly. (For the record, the wooden swords she’d used for mock fights and the iron blade she killed with during matches were not recognized as "Moonlight Swords." To Qing, a sword was only a true sword once it spilled human blood.)

"Are you still trying to settle this with words?"

"Hah! How dare you! Let’s see what pitiful skill you have!"

Gyeong Damgan roared and charged first.

Qing easily twisted her body aside, redirecting his rushing strike — all the while running her mouth.

"Don’t senior martial artists usually give their juniors three moves' advantage? Did you shove all your manners up your ass with age? You should be ashamed."

"Hmph! Do you take me for one of your goody-two-shoes righteous sect softies?!"

"Oh, hardly. I took you for a filthy, shriveled-up old eunuch."

"Every! Damn! Word! Eunuch! Eunuch! Eunuch! I am not a eunuch!!"

With every sword clash, Gyeong Damgan shouted like a madman.

In contrast, Qing’s voice remained calm, unhurried — completely at odds with a battle against a peak-level master using condensed sword force.

"So, does your dick even get hard anymore? The last guy you killed left a dying message, you know. Said it was pitiful — watching you swing your limp dick around during executions."

"Die! DIE!!"

"Is that all you’ve got? Come on. Try a little harder."

Even without using the Queen Gu, Gyeong Damgan was supposed to be a transcendent master. Yet somehow, he kept getting pushed back by Qing’s sword.

Well, naturally. Qing’s blade was a slaughter sword — a true death sword.

And over the past month, she had been ruthlessly suppressing her best techniques, training without relying on her slaughter arts. It was no wonder her skill had skyrocketed.

Now, when Qing did unleash her slaughter sword, the blade carried the full weight of all the deaths she had piled up — denser, sharper, deadlier. Combined with her overwhelming raw strength, it was more than enough to counter the rough, unrefined sword force of a so-called peak master.

"Why?! Why won’t you die?!"

"Honestly? I expected more from you. You're even more disappointing than I thought. Now I’m just bored."

In that moment, Qing’s eyes flashed coldly.

Her sword traced a single, absolute line through the air — the laziest sword under the heavens, but a king's virtue is restraint, and when the sovereign moves, heaven and earth must tremble.

Slice.

Gyeong Damgan’s sword — and part of his wrist — clattered noisily to the ground.

Gyeong Damgan quickly pressed on the stump, fumbling to wrap it in a cloth. Qing simply watched from above, her gaze cool and detached.

"Why... why is a mere peak-level brat..."

"Hmm? Curious? I'll sell you the answer for five hundred coins. But really, isn’t it obvious? Of course I'd win."

"Ridiculous! The difference in realms—!"

"Eh. Back when you lost your temper earlier — instead of drawing your sword, you triggered your Gu parasite. If you were a true swordsman, you would’ve drawn your blade without hesitation after being humiliated."

"W-what are you saying?!"

"I’m saying you’ve relied on your parasite so much, you forgot how to fight. When’s the last time you swung a sword with real intent?"

"A... ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) ah..."

Gyeong Damgan was no fool. He understood.

The moment he lost his mind with rage, he had instinctively called on the Queen Gu’s suicide command — not his sword.

He had been so drunk on the power of the Gu parasite that he had long abandoned his true weapon. No matter how high his martial level, a man who had forgotten his blade was nothing.

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Qing had realized it from that moment. Peak master or not — he was already rusted through. He wasn’t worth fearing.

Raising the sword lightly, she pointed it straight at him.

"So. Where’s your boss?"

This was why Qing had bothered to return to the underground dungeon.

She'd heard there was supposed to be someone in charge — but hadn’t even seen their face. Not that she wasn’t also a little curious about teasing the old man and pulling apart some bugs for fun.

But more importantly, killing just Gyeong Damgan would’ve triggered a full auto-annihilation through the Queen Gu’s death command. However, there was apparently another Queen Gu floating around that she hadn’t found yet, and that bugged her.

"I don't know. I haven’t seen him since morning. Maybe he passed out drunk somewhere. Or maybe he found some 'materials' and is having his fun alone. How should I know?"