The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 24: The Final Kiss- Part 1
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- The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin.
- Chapter 24: The Final Kiss- Part 1
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The Final Kiss- Part 1
“Hey, old man! Another one!”
The man at the counter shouted as he raised his empty ceramic mug.
Even though it wasn’t even noon yet, the man downed drink after drink at an alarming pace, practically drowning himself in alcohol.
The owner of the eatery, unable to hide his exasperation, sighed heavily as he handed over another mug.
“Hey, maybe you should take it easy, don’t you think?”
“Ah? Shut up! I’m the customer here, you idiot!”
His slurred speech, barely intelligible, came from a mouth that couldn’t even form proper words anymore. His drunken eyes, on the verge of closing, glared at the owner with a flushed face.
In this town, there weren’t many bars open in the morning. This establishment was just a small, unremarkable diner that happened to serve alcohol. Yet, once or twice a year, some loser—perhaps down on their luck after a gambling loss—would stumble in, day-drunk, just like this man.
The man’s name was Toruk.
Now, he was a miserable wreck, but just a few hours ago, he had been riding high on the peak of happiness.
It had all started early this morning. Toruk had been rudely awakened by the innkeeper of the cheap lodging he had been hiding out in. The man had pounded on his door and shouted the news: Hiluluk was dead.
“They say one of his own men killed him!”
The innkeeper, clearly thrilled by the juicy gossip, rattled off what he had heard, though he didn’t seem to know many details himself. Yet, the moment Toruk heard this, a strange sense of satisfaction welled up within him. Of course, he thought. That’s how gangsters like Hiluluk end up. It was only a matter of time.
That said, Toruk wasn’t naive. If the rumors turned out to be false and he bumped into Hiluluk alive and well on the streets, he’d be in a world of trouble.
Taking no chances, Toruk hastily gathered his things and left the inn.
Under the cover of the dim early morning light, he made his way to the red-light district to check the situation for himself. Sure enough, when he arrived at Hiluluk’s brothel, the place was crawling with guards, the streets in front of it cordoned off.
There was no doubt about it—Hiluluk was dead. The moment Toruk realized this, laughter bubbled up uncontrollably from his throat.
Until then, Toruk had been skulking around, hiding in fear, but suddenly it all felt absurd. Without thinking, he stepped boldly into the middle of the street and laughed loudly. He couldn’t hold it back. Even when the women hurrying home from their night jobs looked at him like he was some sort of lunatic, he didn’t care.
Now, there was nothing left for Toruk to fear.
Returning to his inn, he pulled all of his belongings out from under the bed, packed up, and left the place for good.
He had money—money he’d gotten by mortgaging the Ward Workshop. There was no reason to keep hiding in a cheap inn like this anymore.
Toruk couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild.
He would get everything he ever wanted. He would buy a small house on the outskirts of town and live there in seclusion, indulging in a debauched life with Shia, the girl who had fallen into slavery.
He dreamed of that beautiful body he had yearned for so long. He imagined tormenting her to his heart’s content until she was utterly dependent on him, unable to leave him.
What kind of sounds would Shia make?
He pictured those sweet lips calling his name, whispering breathless sighs of longing, and he stomped his feet with excitement.
Leaving the shabby inn with a figurative kick of sand, Toruk hopped down the street in high spirits, heading toward the upscale residential district.
His destination was the office of the city’s most prominent slave trader, Kurikara. There, he would finally claim the girl he loved—Shia, who had fallen into slavery.
It was a twisted love, but after years of yearning, he would finally make his dream come true. Just the thought made him hum a cheerful tune.
His eagerness swelled, but it was still early in the morning. When he arrived at the office, the shop was, of course, still closed. Toruk sat down in front of the entrance to wait for the doors to open.
As he gazed at the brightening sky, he reflected on his journey.
In the first place, the reason Toruk had apprenticed himself to that neurotic, irritable old craftsman was because he had once seen Shia by chance in the city.
Shia had been only nine years old at the time—a child. But she had been an angelic, breathtakingly beautiful child.
Toruk, who had spent his days idle, hating the world and being hated in return, scraping by like a thug, had been struck dumb. He couldn’t believe that in this filthy, wretched city that had rejected him, something so pure and beautiful could exist.
The moment he laid eyes on her, an emotion he had never felt before stirred within him.
“I want that girl.”
To put it plainly, it was love at first sight. A desire so overwhelming that it grew stronger within Toruk with each passing day.
Day by day, that desire swelled until merely watching her from a distance was no longer enough.
Desperate to possess the young girl, Shia, Toruk thought long and hard about how he might make her his. After much deliberation, he decided to apprentice himself to the Ward Workshop.
In a world where war and strife were never far away, a blacksmith’s trade was one of the most secure and sought-after professions. Normally, it wouldn’t be easy to gain such an apprenticeship.
However, at the time, the Ward Workshop was in a peculiar situation. Shia’s father—the master of the workshop—was widely regarded as the finest blacksmith in the city, but his extreme neuroticism had driven away every single apprentice. No one stayed, and the workshop was critically short on hands.
When Toruk—a thug with no prior blacksmithing experience—suddenly appeared, claiming he’d turned over a new leaf and begging for an apprenticeship, the master reluctantly agreed. With no other choice, he swallowed his pride and took Toruk on.
Toruk still remembered the look the master had given him at the time—a gaze as if he were staring at vomit.
But Toruk had a plan.
If he could become a skilled blacksmith here…
If he could dedicate himself to the master and earn his trust…
Then one day, he might inherit the workshop. And with it, he might be allowed to marry that beautiful girl.
It was a faint, almost naive hope, but it gave Toruk the strength to endure.
The master was as unreasonable as they came, his temperament so bad that no apprentice had ever stayed. But Toruk endured.
Living under the same roof as Shia made him feel as if he were walking on air.
However… things started to go awry when the master succeeded in crafting Dark Green steel.
One evening, the master made it abundantly clear: the successor to the Ward Workshop would be his son, Peter. Until Peter became a full-fledged blacksmith, the secrets of crafting Dark Green steel would remain with him and him alone.
And as for Shia?
He was exploring connections to see if she could marry into nobility—even as a second or third wife.
That was the master’s plan.
No one—absolutely no one—except Toruk himself had ever envisioned a future where Toruk and Shia would end up together.
And yet, in his selfishness, Toruk thought:
I’ve been betrayed.
He had endured the master’s tyranny, day after day, giving everything he had. And now, all his hopes and schemes were crumbling into nothingness.
It was during this time that Hiluluk approached Toruk.
“Obtain the formula for Dark Green steel. If you do, I’ll turn the little miss into a compliant slave and hand her over to you.”
How Hiluluk learned of Toruk’s obsession with Shia was a mystery, but the offer was far too tempting to refuse.
And so, Toruk finally killed the master.
Not because Hiluluk explicitly ordered it. Toruk’s pent-up resentment toward the master played a much bigger role.
The overly meticulous master had certainly documented the formula he had painstakingly discovered. To get his hands on it, Toruk realized the master was nothing but an obstacle.
However, even after the master’s death, no matter how thoroughly Toruk searched the workshop, the formula for Dark Green steel was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, Hiluluk’s demands grew relentless, urging Toruk daily to deliver results.
Eventually losing patience, Hiluluk ordered Toruk to sell the mansion.
The plan was to corner Shia, claiming the master had left behind debts, and force her to sell the formula for Dark Green steel. To achieve this, it was inconvenient to have other valuable assets in play.
The proceeds from the mansion sale were supposed to be handed over to Hiluluk. But this was where Toruk betrayed him.
Toruk already knew that no matter how much Shia was cornered, the formula for Dark Green steel would never surface.
However, if nothing came of it for too long, Hiluluk might take direct action against Shia. And that, Toruk could not allow.
To Toruk, possessing Shia was all that mattered. The formula for Dark Green steel was irrelevant. Twisted as it was, Toruk saw himself as a knight protecting Shia by betraying Hiluluk.
In the end, Toruk outwitted Hiluluk, made a fortune, and skillfully manipulated Shia into becoming a slave herself. With that accomplished, the next step was simple: buy Shia as a submissive slave and escape this country.
That was the plan.
At least, it had been.
But now that Hiluluk was dead, there was no longer any need to flee the city.
The only part that hadn’t gone as planned was that the money Shia had received from selling herself had been stolen by her younger brother, Peter. Still, in return, Toruk had managed to get rid of that pesky brat.
Though it was little more than petty spite, Toruk blamed that brat for his failure to inherit the Ward Workshop. Peter had escaped, but not before Toruk broke his leg and stabbed a knife deep into his thigh. With injuries like that, Toruk was certain the boy had already died miserably somewhere.
The master, Hiluluk, Peter—everyone who had stood in Toruk’s way was now… gone.
Now, he would have Shia serving him, submitting to his every desire. The mere thought of indulging himself in her body at will, starting tonight, made his heart race with anticipation, his arousal so intense it hurt.
At that moment, Toruk was at the pinnacle of happiness.
A alguien me recuerda la fiferencia de edad entre toruk y shia?