Failed Possession Chapter-55

## Ch-55.

—

He hadn’t come expecting a good reaction in the first place.

If the guy wasn’t a possessor, then some stranger had suddenly shown up spouting incomprehensible nonsense—getting attacked would be natural.

If he was a *possessor*?
Even if it was just a worn-down shack, he was somehow managing to live well enough. Of course he’d be wary if another possessor suddenly appeared.

But the reaction was far more violent than Yuri had expected.

Being attacked was one thing.

But the expression—

Something about it wasn’t normal.

Fear.

For two years, Yuri had lived a rough life.

Rather than getting entangled with orthodox martial artists or adventurers, he’d lived among black-path warriors and drifters.

Not that there weren’t decent people here and there—but most aimed for his pockets or the back of his head.

Even the hearty fellows who laughed loudly and asked him to join their sect or organization would turn into knife-wielding thugs the moment he politely refused, threatening him.

He’d nearly died many times, but always survived.

And once he survived, the positions reversed.

Even Roichi of the Hao Sect—who had smirked and said he wouldn’t get a letter of recommendation unless he paid—after Yuri killed all the fighters he’d brought along to set the mood, ended up dripping cold sweat, tears, and spit while begging for his life.

Whether cheap fear wrung out through knives—or fists—
Yuri was used to fear.

In those two years, there were far more times he returned fear to those who tried to kill him than times he himself felt it.

That was why the fear on Point-Ignition’s face felt both familiar—

and shocking.

Threat to life.

The collapse of everything he’d built.

A mix of emotions far thicker than any fear Yuri had seen before.

How to put it—

It looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Point Ignition, why the hell are you freaking out?”

There wasn’t time to mind pronunciation.

A red line shot from the fingertip.
An explosion erupted before his eyes.

Not relying solely on defensive aura, Yuri moved his body.

Boom—boom—boom!

Explosions chased him one after another.

He’d fought a fifth rank once before.

Rarer than the countless third and fourth ranks, but there were still plenty of fifth ranks stuck at their wall.

The opponent had been a swordsman.

It hadn’t been hard.

Obviously weaker than the Blood Fiend Ghost.

He hadn’t even used **Blazing Burst Fist** and still won.

But this was his first time fighting a fifth-rank mage.

The matchup between martial artists and mages depended heavily on distance.

At spell-casting distance, the mage had the advantage.

At striking distance, the martial artist did.

And in terms of distance, fighters had many disadvantages.

Against any weapon, their reach was shorter.

If they got in close, victory was almost guaranteed—

but getting in wasn’t easy.

Still, that disadvantage wasn’t especially troublesome for Yuri.

He was used to distance disadvantages.

For two years, what he’d pursued was a way to close distance decisively and boldly.

Naturally, that method was—

his **legs**.

How to move his feet.

Footwork in combat.

Movement techniques for crossing long distances.

Yuri’s body dropped low, almost lying against the ground.

Crack.

Internal energy burst from his dantian and settled into every muscle.

The direction the finger pointed was a feint.

The red line from the fingertip too.

Simple, blatant fakes—but precisely because they were blatant, they worked well.

But they meant nothing to Yuri.

His sharpened instincts and heightened understanding of mana let him see more.

The explosion hadn’t happened yet.

But magic explosions inevitably showed precursors—mana fluctuations.

Even if only for an instant—

Yuri never missed them.

The moment the precursor turned into reality—

he sprinted.

“!”

Point-Ignition had stepped forward to prevent Yuri from getting closer—

because this distance was optimal for casting.

Mages weren’t duller or slower than martial artists.

At fourth rank, they expanded their souls and gained appropriate senses.

At fifth rank, they maintained support spells constantly, aiding perception.

Point-Ignition too.

Switches flipped.

His thoughts accelerated.

Everything in his vision slowed.

More switches followed.

Corrections stabilized the imbalance caused by accelerated thought.

‘Crazy.’

—Bzzzzing!

A sharp pain stabbed his eyes and brain.

Not just because Yuri was fast—

the aura around him wasn’t simple defensive qi.

‘Magic?’

Most mages accelerated perception.

But Yuri’s aura writhed chaotically within that slowed vision, overloading his sight and brain.

Like staring too long at dizzying optical illusions.

Internal energy churned turbulently inside the aura, even warping nearby mana.

To Point-Ignition—

Yuri looked like a living flame rushing toward him.

He already felt fear—

and watching that blazing fire approach made it impossible to stay calm.

“D-don’t come!”

The scream sounded almost like a plea.

That only confused Yuri more.

Panic made sense—

but this reaction was excessive.

Boom—boom—boom!

Each time Point-Ignition swung wildly, lines of flame erupted.

The entire shack trembled.

Hidden spells underground activated.

A wall of crimson fire blocked Yuri.

He didn’t hesitate.

He kicked off the ground.

Suddenly he remembered a tokusatsu show from childhood—

a masked hero flying-kick through explosions.

He hadn’t designed it that way—

but Yuri’s kick looked exactly like that finishing move.

The fire wall split apart.

Point-Ignition’s wide eyes showed.

He kept casting spells desperately—

but couldn’t stop Yuri.

Crash!

The door shattered inward.

“Kyaaa!”

His domain had been breached.

Point-Ignition tried to flee through the window—

but Yuri moved faster.

**Black Fang** shot from Yuri’s waist.

“Hik!”

A barrier formed instantly—

but Black Fang, reinforced with aura, pierced straight through and stabbed into his robe.

Crash!

He tumbled.

He pointed again—

but Yuri was faster.

Thud!

A kick buried into his solar plexus.

“Kuh—!”

Even with defensive magic inside his body—

it felt like being stabbed by a giant blade.

Yuri had already held back.

If he’d used full force, the body would’ve exploded.

“Hard to control strength with kicks.”

Grumbling, Yuri removed his hood.

He’d planned to use only legs here, avoiding **Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist**.

But sealing his usual fists felt uncomfortable.

‘If needed, I’ll mix fists too.’

Maybe just seal **Purple Lightning Flash Art**.

Or simply leave no witnesses.

“Told you not to throw Black Fang.”

Haryeong entered, grumbling.

She propped the fallen door back up.

“What kind of sound transmission did you send to make him freak out like that?”

“Secret.”

“Secret my ass. Was it that ‘CatPanties’ thing?”

“Secret.”

“Crimson-Leg, I’m really curious. What is CatPanties? A cat wearing panties? Or panties with a cat drawn on them?”

“Noona, can we just not talk about it?”

“How can I not be curious?”

“I went crazy for a moment and said nonsense. Please erase it from memory.”

“Not easy.”

Chatting lightly, they lifted the unconscious mage.

“Tie him up?”

“We’re just talking. No need.”

Yuri scanned the house.

Nothing special—

just lots of spells.

He walked around and disabled each annoying spell one by one.

“You learned magic on your own too?”

“The common spells, yeah.”

“What about the ones you were gifted?”

Yuri didn’t answer. He just stared at Haryeong.

—Give up any expectation that Miss Elena is looking for you.

That had been the entirety of what Haryeong told him about Elena after they reunited.

And Yuri hadn’t asked further.

Honestly, he’d wanted to ask.

How had Elena lived these past two years?
Was she healthy? Eating properly? Lonely?

There were countless things he wanted to ask—

but he couldn’t.

Still, he’d heard rumors.

That the prodigy of the Dercia Magic Tower had reached fifth rank at twenty-two.

That she was no longer called “Marigold,” but **Mad Thunder**.

“…I learned that too.”

The three Heinderga spell formulas Elena had left behind two years ago—
he’d learned them as magic and fused them into his martial arts.

The reason Yuri earned the nickname *Thundercloud* wasn’t just the combination of **Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist** and **Purple Lightning Flash Art**, but also the Heinderga spells woven into his forms.

*Still full of lingering attachment, aren’t you.*

Beneath the fox mask, the corner of Haryeong’s mouth twitched.

Clinging to lingering feelings and deliberately looking away—

Elena wasn’t the only one like that.

*Should I have forced her to come?*

The thought surfaced suddenly.

Their last meal together the day before leaving.

Honestly, it hadn’t been cheerful.

They talked as usual, but the distance between them felt wider than the table.

It had largely been Haryeong’s intention.

Not to cut ties—

but to provoke Elena openly, hoping she would change.

If Elena had said she’d come along, Haryeong would’ve happily taken the coachman’s seat for her.

But Elena never said it.

As she had for two years, she turned away from her emotions and attachments and chose to remain alone in that empty, bleak mansion.

*I wonder if she’s eating properly.*

It wasn’t purely for Elena’s sake that Haryeong had brought up Yuri back then.

Those words had also been a kind of declaration of war.

Because she had grown interested.

Tempted.

Wanted to claim first.

Not romantic jealousy—

but better to tell first and ask permission than sneak around and reveal it later.

“Should I wait outside?”

Haryeong glanced out the window.

Subduing Point-Ignition hadn’t taken long.

But the explosions and flames he’d thrown around had been loud.

Even if the shack was isolated, this was still the middle of the slums.

People were gathering.

“If you stay outside, you’ll stand out more.”

Yuri raised his finger and drew lines in the air.

Mana gathered and formed a spell.

—Whoooosh…

A soundproof barrier spread around the shack.

“You’ve gotten quite versatile.”

“…”

“If it’s good, say it’s good. This noona isn’t stingy with praise.”

“…It’s nothing special.”

“Seems you didn’t hear many genuine compliments these past two years?”

More than that—

being praised by someone from two years ago felt strangely nice.

Of course, he didn’t show it.

Haryeong would tease him.

“Ugh…”

He poked Point-Ignition’s pressure points.

The man groaned and woke.

“Hah…!”

“Don’t scream.”

No more “usa” this time.

Yuri pulled over a chair and sat in front of him.

“Your neighbors are worried. Go to the window and say you’re fine.”

“Y-you… you…!”

“Don’t do anything stupid. You know it, right? Nothing you do can stop me.”

“….”

“I didn’t come to kill you. I just want to talk. But talking only works if you cooperate. If not… we’ll have a different kind of conversation.”

Before coming to this world, Yuri—Lee Suhyeok—had once heard Lorellia say:

—Violence is an excellent means of negotiation and dialogue that works in most situations!

Back then it hadn’t resonated.

But for two years, he’d felt it to his bones.

Showing the difference in power first made negotiations far easier than trying reason or emotion.

Point-Ignition hesitated, then slowly walked to the window and waved to the onlookers.

Then he returned and collapsed into the chair.

“…Really…?”

he panted.

“You’re… really not here to kill me…?”

“I’m not.”

“Then… then what was that way of speaking…?”

Fear spread across his pale face again.

“B-bunny… Bunny Star! Usa!”

“Bunny Star?”

Haryeong tilted her head. She hadn’t heard the sound transmission.

“Usa?”

“Hey, Point Ignition, stop saying useless stuff.”

Yuri tried to cover his mouth, but the guy was half-panicked, rambling.

“What you said… through sound transmission! Bunny Star… you came from Bunny Star!”

“Shut the hell up.”

“To meet me! R-revenge? Revenge? You came from Bunny Star to get revenge on me?!”

“Please, stop—”

“Usa, usa… usa!”

Whatever trauma that word held—

Point-Ignition grabbed his head and started shaking violently.

His whites darkened like ink spreading.

Black blood ran from his nose.

“Heart demon!”

Haryeong shouted.

A mental breakdown.

Anyone could have one.

Embarrassing childhood memories flashing back was a mild form—

but this was severe.

For mages or martial artists, such mental collapse could cause internal energy or soul power to run wild, leading to deviation.

“U… usa… usa…”

Blood poured from his nose.

“Crimson-Leg, his mind might collapse at this rate!”

“What… what do I do?!”

He’d experienced a lot in two years, but not this.

“Whatever you said through sound transmission plus the pressure of this situation triggered it. Calm him down first!”

Yuri bit his lip.

[Are… are you okay, usa? Get a hold of yourself, usa!]

“Sound transmission won’t reach him now!”

“Ah, damn it…”

He felt like he might get a heart demon himself.

Still—

he had no choice.

“G-get a hold of yourself, usa!”

“…?”

“I—I didn’t come to kill you, usa! Not revenge, usa!”

He cracked one eye open.

Haryeong lifted her fox mask.

He realized—

she wanted him to see her expression.

Her usually blank face was twisted.

Clear disgust.

“…Hah…”

After several rounds of “usa,” the mage calmed down.

Focus returned.

He vomited black blood and gasped.

“Y-you really… didn’t come to kill me…?”

“R-right, usa.”

It felt like his dignity had been shaved away.

Yuri recited the incantations of **Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique** to suppress the murderous intent rising inside.

“…Then why did you copy that demon woman’s speech and setting? That demon… isn’t dead… did she send you to kill me?”

“…What?”

Yuri froze.

“Demon woman?”

More shocking than the possibility USAUSAMI might be dead—

was the fact that they were a woman.

“USAUSAMI… was a woman?”

He asked again, unable to believe it.

—