SSS-Class Suicide Hunter

Winter.

“It's snowing. ”

The teacher's feet were light.

“Two days have passed since the start of the shampoo. ”

The teacher stepped on the snow as if slipping on an ice sheet.

A world covered in white.

The black edge of the teacher's clothes flowed like a brush on a blank sheet.

- How long can we run?

There was also a brush chasing the brush.

It was stronger, stronger, and more violent than the teacher's brush. It was a brush filled with food.

- I don't lose with a scrub.

The messenger steps forward, smashing the ice sheets, pushing his eyes down like a bulldozer, and rushing forward.

“The throne is confident that it will flee forever. ”

- But it'll be over.

“Don't you know, the world has become an endless snow field. There's no place to run, but there's no place to run. ”

- I won't let you.

The messenger jumps up and down, blaming the snow.

- If you really were in your prime, you could run away forever. But this is what's happening now. Considering the time you have left in your life, you don't have a second to face. The hourglass is running.Are you still going to run away?

“Aha. That's so gross. ”

- The truth is vile.

The messenger wields his sword.

“Yes, I admit it. ”

The teacher turns his neck and dodges lightly.

“The end of the throne is near. We can't keep running. ”

- Someday you'll see a battle.

“There's no reason that one day shouldn't be now. ”

- You're talking to me.

“Then.”

Master holds the scabbard.

“I'll show you the maximum power on the mainframe. ”

Archeon Necromancer Museum.

The most formal.

The Asayugum employee.

“-- Hunger is the gesture of a parent who changes their child and the child next door and eats them. ”

The blade cuts through the winter winds and screams.

“Have you heard the story of an adult who opened his neighbor's body with jerky and buried it in the snow? Have you heard the rumors of that town? If you dig into the town with a shovel in winter, have you heard the story of the village that young people get caught at the end of each shovel? ”

- That's sad.

Xiang,

The messenger stops the teacher's blade with his sword.

- I think it's the famine.

“Yes. The famine is like a spinning mill that returns at any moment. ”

- But it's a coincidence.

The messenger swings his sword in the winter wind.

- Accidentally rich and going into famine. There is no coincidence in Samran. If you mourn the tragedy of coincidence, in the same sense, you should smile and be happy with coincidence.

"......."

- The depth of a person's grief is exactly the same as the height of his happiness.

Cheering,

The two blades intersect.

The red Plum will fall.

I'll sing a happy autumn harvest.

My eyes and feet are like leaves.

- There was a day when I saw the horizon walking down the street. It was a day when the golden sea of hell spread to the horizon. Between paddy fields as tall as his height, little kids were playing hide-and-seek. The laughter is heard through the cracks of the lightning, then it is hidden and heard.

Autumn.

The wind blows.

The hillside is bitten red with a maple, and the horizon is bitten yellow as hell.

- Did you talk about the boy buried in the snow? I'll talk about the laughter of a child playing hide-and-seek down below.

In a world of red mazes.

The messenger wields his sword.

- Either is a coincidence on a coincidence day. If there's one thing I need to put in my sword, it's the sound of hell, and if there's one last thing I need to think about when I die, it's the scenery of children playing hide-and-seek. It's a choice.

“Really,"

Master cuts the maple leaf.

“How fortunate that sounds! ”

Archeon Necromancer Museum.

Transplant implant <UNK> .

The bayonet gum isn't ready yet.

“They are both accidental. But happiness doesn't kill people. The pain of hunger, the pain of thirst, kills people! Death is the end of eternity. It's over.”

Sun's coming down.

“I can't drink a sip of water, so I'll sing to the people who are dying! ”

Summer.

Heat Wind covers the world.

The alpine vegetation is parched.

Weeds turn yellow. Fruit shrunk, beetles slowed down, and dead fish carcasses spread by the river hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands. Elbow. There is no moisture in the fish's round eyes.

- Oh, my God.

Your sword becomes sticky.

Even if the messenger gets caught, the teacher won't back down. Rather, it sticks more. Ultra melee combat. It's close enough to feel each other breathing out. Chang! The eye becomes dizzy as the sword and sword rapidly blend together.

- When I close my neck in the summer, it's fucking cool.

The messenger was slain by the master's sword.

- You're teaching him the wrong thing.

“… What? ”

- Sorry, that was a little harsh. I teach too early, rather than being wrong.

The backman's sword flows like water.

- I like singing the pain of the world. It's good to turn your eyes away from other people's pain. But I can't keep doing that forever.

“Why?”

- It's just, I'm tired.

Chaang!

The red sargassum petals are over there.

- The Duke hasn't tasted the world's joys yet.

The air suddenly changed.

- You have to taste it so you can mourn people who can't eat it for the rest of their lives. Wrap your neck in the summer. If you wind it up, there's no water. Sid can cry for people. The heart of man is the wick of the candle. Once it burns, it burns.

- Did you know that? He's never loved anyone yet. I've never been in a relationship!

Firecrackers pouring down like waterfalls.

- But you're already acting like you've got all the pain and sadness in the world. Impersonation! Ha. Don't even think about it. Your teachings are too early!

It rains like rain.

- I'm gonna teach him how to be happy.

It's raining.

- I'll teach you how to smile without hypocrisy. I'm going to teach someone else how to shoulder strap. I have to be happy to be with someone, I can't help it. That way you'll never stop grieving!

“You…. ”

It rains on dry ground. The river is wet with rain. The bodies of fish float in the river. The trumpet flower opens its purple tongue, drinking raindrops.

The sound of frogs crying.

“Are you going to be the master of the throne's disciples? ”

Archeon Necromancer Museum.

The third formula: .

Drowned bayonet gum.

- Yes, sir!

“How dare you!”

Like the rain never stops.

Gunfire strikes again and again.

“Where do you covet the sole proponent of the throne? ”

In the middle of the summer.

The rainforest is flooded.

The river flows with tens of thousands of red roses.

I was originally planning on taking her place!

The reservoir collapses and the town is submerged. Sleep is full to the top of the mountain. Above the soaked water, the teacher and the guardian are stuffed. Splash! The waves rise at the surface of the water where two people can walk.

- I taught him how to pick an Orc's head! I am the one who taught you how to manage your errors! I've grown old and soothed a bastard who has no martial arts talent, so I've only made him useful! The head of social media is interfering!

“What, socializing?! ”

Then what's a bridge?

The two of you slide over the surface.

Get kicked out.

The waves are hitting the road.

Chase.

The rose petals on your toes are crushed.

The shadows of the two drop on the waves and petals.

- Swinging a sword is fun!

On rainy days, the smell of water.

The floral scent is dull.

- Tell the Jade Emperor! A sword that wields pain, pain and pain by pain! What is that? It's too magical! The joy of smelling flowers and singing the joy of hitting summer rains naked is not enough!

“The Prince! The disciple of the throne! I was born to be the next bishop of the Church! ”

- That's why I'm a sociopath! He's a heretic!

Hundreds of millions of roses.

I don't see any recent floods. I can't see my sleep. Roses, petals, all covered the surface.

The world turns red into a flower garden.

"■ ■ ■ ■, ■ ■ ■. ■ ■ ■ ■."

- ■ ■ ■, ■ ■, ■ ■ ■ ■. ■ ■ ■!

Spring.

Flowers flow.

Red orange blossoms sag and fly into the sky.

“--I will cut out your Cervical Blood with the sixth herbal turbulence of the neck turbulent sword."

Chaang!

Two petals, cut by the blade and crushed.

- Two steps away from the snowflake.

I see it.

“... I will blow you away with the Magician's Seventh Herbal Sword." ”

I hear you.

- Fight against the fourth herbalist of the Hatchling Strike.

I see two swords.

I can see the saffron blossoms, trampled, by both of you.

A red egg that has been trampled to burst its scent.

"......."

Only you can see it.

Teacher.

The Catholic Church is losing.

"...... I will resist with the Magician's eighth herbal sword. ”

Under the cloudy sky, the teacher shed blood.

It's bloody.

The difference between the teacher and the guardian is obvious. No matter how hard you try to escape, it is impossible to chase behind you. In exchange for trying the impossible, the teacher shed red blood on his arms, legs, and shoulders.

- Mmm-hmm.

Behind the scenes.

- The first herb of the dairy sword, the bayonet gum.

The teacher's breath sounds a little thinner.

I'm running low on internal air.

It would be an exaggeration, to try to be compassionate.

"The script is……"

Teacher's lips open.

“Originally, I couldn't complete the Magician's final sword. There is only one reason. The death rooted in the heart of the throne since childhood is the verb. Abandoned by her mother, left alone in the snow, freezing to death. That was the end of this. ”

The teacher raises the sword high.

“But.”

The tip of the blade points to the middle of the sky like noon.

“Paradoxically, after the end of the world, he was able to complete the Great Sage's ninth sword. ”

"......."

“Heaven in Heaven, Toddler Zone. ”

, ⁄ ්.

“If you look up at the sky, if you walk under the sky, it's only me. I hope, I hope. Agabhara, one candle is bought because the world is winter. My song alone is the song of the world, and my death is the death of heaven and earth. White, white, white again. ”

The sword.

Cut through the sky.

"My potion will hang in the snow. ”

Archeon Necromancer Museum.

Old fashioned .

Poisonous Gogh Gum.

"------."

Winter.

Cut spring.

The red sky of a petal splits. A crack. A white winter swells through it. Swinging down, petals turn into snow, and hundreds of millions of eggs turn into hundreds of millions of snowballs, freezing the world.

A lone sword.

A blow that sings the thousand horses' lonely deaths.

- Yes, it is.

The turbulence of winter strikes you, and the messenger quietly raises his gaze.

- Solitary. Is that how the Bishop of the Church chose death? Yes, I admit it. It's a perfect fit for the last unmanned attack on a doomed world.

A lonely smile hangs over the messenger's mouth.

- But when it comes to solitude, I know better than you.

The messenger holds the scabbard.

- How long did you last in the world alone, three years, two years? No, I haven't lasted a day. Because there was always a man beside you. When the monk died, you lost your mind and you lost your mind.

The tip of the blade moves.

- I'm sorry.

And...

- I survived 130 years alone.

Empty-free ❗.

Formless .

One Sword only.

.

The saffron flower.

.

winter, spring, summer, fall,

autumn, winter, spring, summer,

Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring

Spring New, Summer, Fall Winter,

Plum, Moran, Rose and Master Painter,

Bronze and Plum and Moran and Roses,

petals, petals, petals, petals.

Red, red, red, red.

Winter.

It's red.

When winter returns,

Winter.

Breathing.

.

Stop, stop, stop.

.

"------."

I have regained my breath.

"----Tsk!!"

I didn't see it.

I couldn't hear you.

I just couldn't understand the strike.

“Hah, ugh, ugh...! Ah, ah... ”

But...

There is something more important now than understanding the sword.

“Master."

"......."

“Master, are you okay…? Body, are you okay? ”

The teacher was silently looking up at the winter sky. There was no focus on the eyes. My heart was beating. I stubbed my teacher's hand. I stuttered a few times to find out how she was doing.

I'm running.

Alive.

He's still alive.

“Master.”

"......."

The teacher slowly opened his lips.

“I see.”

Yes, "said the teacher.

“I see.”

He said, "I see." The teacher looked me in the eye.

“A pupil.”

Silky eyes.

“He's my pupil. You've been trying to help me from the start. ”

“I heard that you came out of the bird to admire the fame of the throne.... Lies, red lies. Why didn't I know when I lost? My disciple will not cross the world by seducing fame..."

Voices.

His voice became smaller and smaller.

"Thank you."

"......."

“Apprentice, were you happy to see you? ”

I nodded.

“Yes."

“Can the throne be remembered for you as a flower of a leaf?"

“Yes, Master. ”

“I want to know what kind of flowers. ”

“To Moran..."

I hugged her body.

“I'll remember it as red Moran. Teacher.”

“Aha."

The teacher smiled.

“Beautiful."

The teacher stroked my cheek.

“You're beautiful..."

And...

The teacher motioned toward the sky with the remaining one hand.

The baby bird was just born with a flimsy, light hand gesture like its wings.

“My disciple..."

No sound.

Without a sound, the mountain was cut off.

The snow was split in two, as it had always been.

The teacher breathed white.

You're trying to dream white.

“Master..."

I buried my face on her shoulder. With the breath stopped. Time. To someone who was born with the scent of snow.

“Winter is out. Teacher..., winter is out. ”

That day.

The winter of the world was cut down.