Mistaken for a Genius Cadet

Chapter 29 : Chapter 29



Chapter 29 : Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Cruciatus (1)

Damn it.

If things had gone as planned, he should have been out of the Mystery Hall by now.

Balzac gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed.

Secure Seol Hayun and kill all the rest, turning them into corpses.

And then disappear leisurely. As always.

That was the plan.

But now?

“……”

He twisted the corner of his mouth and glared at the boy.

Ryu Jinwoo.

A discordant variable that kept messing up the flow.

A being that unfailingly twisted every link in the plan.

'That bastard knew what I was trying to do. Everything.'

He didn't like that.

A feeling as if his deceptions, his spells, and even his identity had already been exposed.

If not, how could he have ruined the plan and counterattacked at the exact right moment every time?

A dark killing intent flowed in Balzac’s eyes.

The Black Mage of Deception.

Those who knew Balzac willingly called him that.

A master of deception spells and tricks.

No matter who the opponent was, they were bound to become a puppet in his play.

But now?

'The one who's being leisurely right now is not me, but that bastard.'

He couldn't tolerate it.

A mere brat who had seen through his deceptions. Balzac felt a deep sense of humiliation from that existence alone.

'I must kill and eliminate that bastard.'

If he left now, there would be no way to soothe his sense of humiliation.

“I’ll finish all of you, right here and now.”

He slowly raised his hand.

From the gap in the center of his palm, stained with blood, an ‘eye’ emerged.

He hadn’t expected to use this here, but he willingly released the restriction.

[The Third Eye]

Shhh—

A frictional sound as if the air were being split arose.

Following that, a dark and strange pattern was engraved on Balzac’s back.

A moment of silence.

A quietness as if even breathing had stopped lingered.

But soon.

Wooooong-

The space began to distort.

Crack- craaack-

The walls, floor, and ceiling.

The air distorted, and rough cracks were engraved as if spreading from Balzac's periphery.

A scene where the entire landscape was distorted by the powerful magic power.

In the midst of it, Balzac lightly flicked his finger.

Click-!

[Symphony of the Grave]

And at that moment, the citizens all sat down.

“Aaaaargh! No……. No, never again—!”

“It wasn't me! I never did that! Let me go, let me go—!”

“Haha…… hahahahahahaha!”

Soon, each of them began to wail.

Someone scratched at their surroundings with their fingernails, and someone began to choke their lover while embracing them.

Guilt, anger, anxiety.

Each of their deepest darknesses was visualized and destroying them.

It was a hallucination.

But no one realized that it was a hallucination.

Now, they were all trapped in their own hells.

Balzac slowly savored the scene.

A satisfying sight.

As he turned, engraving the scenes of people trembling in pain into his eyes one by one.

“……Daddy?”

A faint voice was heard.

Balzac's gaze turned to that voice.

It was Seol Hayun.

She reached out her hand to the empty air with a look of disbelief.

Her eyes were directed at someone, but in reality, there was nothing at the end of it.

'She's properly caught.'

Balzac smiled and finally turned his gaze.

Standing there was that damn boy. Ryu Jinwoo.

“……”

The boy was looking around.

A hint of bewilderment entered his eyes.

Good. That was the reaction he wanted.

Balzac felt a deep thrill of pleasure welling up from the depths of his heart.

“Don’t worry, it’s a simple illusion. Of course, by my standards.”

Balzac smiled quietly and brushed off his hands.

“It might not be ‘simple’ for them, though.”

Then he slowly tilted his head and opened his palm.

In the center of it, the ‘Third Eye’ slowly blinked.

“No one has ever returned to normal after seeing this eye. It's the same for them, and for you.”

At those words, the boy cautiously opened his mouth.

“……For that, I'm perfectly fine, though.”

A pure question, not a provocation or a challenge.

The surroundings were in chaos, but he was the only one who was fine, so it was understandable.

“Of course, it is.”

Balzac spat out, as if chewing his words.

“Because I didn’t cast the illusion on you.”

Balzac thought.

He would show no mercy to this brat who had ruined his plans.

He would make him meet a gruesome end in reality, not in an illusion.

“You, at least, in this reality……”

He continued as he slowly approached.

“Will die in insane pain.”

Balzac’s ‘eye’ was fixed on Ryu Jinwoo.

And from his mouth, cursed words flowed out.

[Cruciatus]

The air sank all at once.

In the heavy air, the only thing moving was Balzac’s shadow.

It stretched out towards the boy at high speed, fiercely.

Ryu Jinwoo, who saw the scene, tried to hastily leave the spot, but it was already too late.

Finally, it touched the boy’s shadow.

The moment the two people’s shadows touched, black hands shot up from above them and floated in the air.

Hands covered in numerous wounds, blood, and blades.

They settled in the air above the boy’s head, and from the tip of each finger, thin, thread-like tentacles extended.

The tentacles cut through the air and stuck to the boy’s body.

The boy’s appearance began to look like a puppet.

A bizarre puppet show of bleeding hands.

As the tentacles began to squirm and dig into the boy’s body.

“Feel it.”

Balzac whispered as if chanting.

“The hell of real ‘pain’.”

At that moment, the blood-stained hands moved as if embroidering the air.

And pain slowly began to drape over the boy’s face.

And soon.

“Ugh…… gyaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

An unbearably heavy scream filled the air.

***

Something happened.

It was from the moment Balzac stretched out his hand.

His shadow began to creep along the floor, sharp and fast.

I instinctively threw myself back.

Because a strong warning that I should not touch it had flashed through my mind.

Thanks to that, I was able to avoid stepping on the shadow that had reached right in front of me.

But the problem was what came next.

The moment I stepped back, the light behind me shone on me.

And because of that, my elongated shadow touched Balzac’s shadow.

Click-

The moment the shadows made contact.

An unfamiliar sensation seeped through my skin.

A cold and damp sensation, as if something were digging into my body.

I lowered my head.

'Threads?'

Before I knew it, thin threads were entangled on my body.

Dark red threads with a strange color.

They squirmed creepily, like the legs of a living insect.

I instinctively raised my gaze.

Hands covered in blades, knives, and awls were floating in the air.

Threads were attached to each finger stained with wounds and blood.

And they were moving as if sliding. Just like a puppet show.

It was a somewhat familiar sight.

'Don't tell me this is…….'

This is coming out here?

It was a familiar spell. But it was a technique too heavy to appear this early.

The torture spell [Cruciatus].

A spell that forcibly amplifies sensations to destroy both the body and the mind.

I had seen it in the setting book.

The fate of those who were afflicted by this curse was set.

They would either bite off their own tongue in unbearable pain, die from a seizure, or go completely insane.

And now, I was about to be on the receiving end of that.

And that too, at a point where I had just entered the academy.

'This crazy bastard…….'

My heart pounded.

My fingertips trembled. My whole body tensed up and grew cold.

The fact that I knew the technique actually added to the fear.

“Feel it.”

Balzac’s voice brushed past my ear.

“The hell of real ‘pain’.”

Zzzzzzt—

Something inside my body began to twist all at once.

“Ugh…… gyaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

A scream erupted.

A sensation as if thousands of blades were tearing and rising along my spine.

At the same time, it felt as if a swarm of insects were crawling inside my bones.

A feeling as if every single nerve that made up my body was being severed and then sewn back together with rusty wire.

If my body were to be dropped into sulfuric acid that burns the flesh, with all my nerves exposed, would it be like this?

Even breathing felt like torture.

With every breath I took, a hot burning sensation flowed down my esophagus.

“Keoheok-.”

I coughed up blood and gasped for breath.

“What a good sight. Quite a spectacle.”

Balzac’s oily voice was heard.

“You’re collapsing from the inside. My magic power is directly entering your body and twisting everything from your organs to your cells.”

Words that were uttered without hesitation.

He filled every single word with a deep malice.

“This is the price for mocking me. Die in despair from the pain that is being engraved on your body!”

He began to let out a rough laugh.

And there was not a single lie in his words.

Because the pain, as if my body were being twisted at a cellular level, was continuously assailing me.

My vision trembled and a ringing echoed in my ears.

A feeling of my whole body being consumed by pain.

Before I knew it, I was collapsing to the floor.

Strength drained from my limbs, and my body began to collapse.

But at the same time, something strange was happening.

'……!'

The muscles that had been limp suddenly twitched.

My whole body tensed up in an instant, as if a thread had become taut.

The posture of falling forward came to a sudden stop.

And then I quickly recovered my balance.

The pain, as if I were about to die, was still there, but an unknown power had invaded and filled the gap.

A sensation as if all my muscles were being tightly squeezed by iron chains.

What is happening?

The moment that question arose.

Chwarararararak—!

The sound of paper being rapidly unfolded echoed.

A familiar presence.

A sight that was now all too familiar.

'……Mimic?'

But this time, something was different.

The guy who always ran around and spouted nonsense was now surprisingly quiet.

He was floating motionlessly in the air. While his whole body was trembling.

[Ouch! Tingle-tingle! Itchy! Hot! Zappy!]

And at some point, he began to mutter like crazy.

Restlessly, ceaselessly, he listed pain and sensations, aches, all of it.

And every single one of those words perfectly overlapped with the sensations I was feeling at this moment.

I soon realized.

The fact that the Mimic was feeling the same pain that I was feeling.

[It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It huuuuuuuuuuuuuuurts!]

A scream filled with pain erupted.

And that was also brief.

[Keeheeheet! Goood! More! More! More!]

I was creeped out by those words that followed.

He was accepting the pain and taking it as ecstasy.

He’s crazy. He’s definitely a crazy bastard.

I myself was on the verge of biting my tongue from my whole body being twisted, but he was enjoying the situation?

A shiver ran down my spine.

Fear and disgust mixed together and turned my stomach.

[I'm full! I feel like I'm going to burst!!!!]

Finally, as the Mimic’s shout hit my ears.

Dding—!

[Tactical Manual]

[The 'Mimic's' energy capacity has been exceeded.]

[Excess power will be forcibly distributed to the 'Player'.]

A system message popped up in front of my eyes.

[Player Information]

[Name: Ryu Jinwoo]

[Strength: 11(+22)]

[Stamina: 14(+22)]

[Agility: 11(+22)]

[Dexterity: 10(+22)]

[Will: 10(+22)]

[Durability: 10(+22)]

[Magic Power: 0]

Power began to well up.

And it didn't seem to stop.

A fierce sensation of adrenaline exploding and spreading throughout my body in an instant.

The numbers continued to rise.

I could immediately tell what this power flowing into my body was.

Because it was the same power that filled my body the moment I used a skill.

When I used a skill, the Mimic gave me power, and immediately after, it inflicted pain on me through ‘Settlement’.

This time, it was the opposite.

The pain that had seized my body was giving him power, and he was returning it.

In the extreme pain that was squeezing my body, ironically, I did not break.

At the same time, I clearly felt it.

That this time would not be long.

My instincts screamed that I had to utilize this power that had occupied my body to the fullest.

***

“Can’t even scream anymore? It seems to be ending soon.”

Balzac approached the boy with a snort.

The boy, who was barely standing on the floor stained with coughed-up blood, was just trembling.

Depending on how you looked at it, his body was already dying.

“You’ve learned your lesson enough, right? Then die now.”

Balzac raised his fingertips.

The pieces of flesh scattered around squirmed and clumped together.

Veins and entrails entangled and shot up, soon becoming a sharp spear and aiming for the boy’s chest.

Shik-!

The spear shot straight out, cutting through the air.

A perfect trajectory.

It was about to pierce the boy’s heart and cut off his breath.

Thwuck-

However, the spear did not hit its mark.

A spear lodged in the empty floor.

The boy had disappeared as if he had evaporated.

“What, what is it. How?”

The moment Balzac let out a questioning groan.

Thud-!

A terrible bursting sound echoed.

The boy was already standing right next to him.

With his own neck in his grasp.

When Balzac lowered his gaze, he saw his own back with the spine protruding.

“You.”

Balzac didn't see the movement at all.

Because it had happened so quickly.

Beyond Balzac's line of sight, the boy quietly raised his head.

A face smeared with blood.

A face horribly distorted with pain, but his eyes were not broken at all.

“What is your identity……?”

Something was wrong.

An eerie sensation brushed past the back of Balzac’s neck.


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