ABVSA 03

Chapter 03

“……?!!”

He can instantly move to any point within a 10-meter radius?

Good.

There was no doubt—it was an incredibly useful skill.

But its priority was lower than the Reaper’s Robe.

Above all, the Hell Points required were ten times higher.

“So items are ranked lower than skills…”

Well, it didn’t really matter.

The conclusion was already clear.

He bought both the [Reaper’s Robe] and the [Reaper’s Scythe].

Ding.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

“……?”

Who was it? There shouldn’t be anyone coming.

For a brief moment, a thought flashed through his mind—Had the tattooed thug’s death been discovered?

But he quickly shook his head.

There was a possibility, but realistically, it was close to impossible. He knew that better than anyone.

Even while knowing that, he subconsciously moved toward the front door, slowing his steps. He leaned in and listened carefully.

But there was no sign of anyone outside.

He cautiously opened the door—and found a parcel box sitting there.

“…?”

He hadn’t ordered anything. Where did this come from?

Two boxes.

There wasn’t even a typical shipping label.

Only a familiar red symbol—two crossed scythes.

The same emblem he had seen at the Hell Shop.

“Don’t tell me…”

So items purchased from the Hell Shop were delivered like this?

He brought the boxes inside and opened them immediately.

Inside were the Reaper’s Robe and the Reaper’s Scythe he had just purchased.

The robe looked like a tattered, worn-out long coat—almost like rags.

The scythe looked no different from a cheap agricultural tool.

“…Fine. Appearance doesn’t matter. Only effects do.”

He put on the Reaper’s Robe.

Despite its description saying it concealed the wearer, there was no visible change.

“Does it even hide me?”

He had assumed he would become invisible, but he could still see his own body clearly.

However, when he stood in front of the mirror, he understood.

“…!!”

There was nothing reflected in the mirror.

Not even the shadow cast by the fluorescent light.

The bizarre sight struck him with a strange sense of shock.

A faint thrill spread across his face as he picked up the Reaper’s Scythe.

It looked like nothing more than a cheap farming tool, but the blade was razor-sharp.

As a test, he lightly touched a water-filled plastic bottle—and it was sliced effortlessly without any force.

Without even bothering to wipe the spilled water, he continued experimenting, finding strange satisfaction in cutting various things.

After some time, he confirmed through testing that the scythe could be summoned and returned at will.

It required direct contact with the scythe using his hand or part of his body to return it; summoning it always placed it directly into his hand.

“So there are limitations, but it’s definitely useful for hiding weapons.”

It was optimized for concealing weapons and instantly summoning them for attacks.

In other words, it could hide the weapon used in a killing.

“With the Judgment Execution and the Reaper’s Robe, I won’t get caught.”

There were still many things to learn, but for now, he planned to begin his revenge using what he had.

“The Cheolsu faction… where do I even start looking?”

Until recently, he had been an ordinary person completely ignorant of crime.

He knew nothing about gangs, organizations, or the underworld.

The only thing he knew was the name “Cheolsu faction” mentioned by the man who killed him.

He tried searching online, but found nothing.

“…Huh?”

Then a thought struck him.

“There were drug users.”

Among those he had caught during a previous deal, there were likely drug users living in this neighborhood.

Or at least in the next town over.

“If I use the Reaper’s Eye to scan the area, I might find them.”

Then his eyes fell on a motorcycle helmet.

“That’s it.”

He had worked part-time as a delivery driver while preparing for employment.

A scooter could easily move around the neighborhood without drawing attention.

Delivery riders also wore helmets, balaclavas, or masks—faces were rarely visible.

It was a convenient means of transportation, and he could even earn money while searching.

Since the effect of the “Hell Mark” still had plenty of time left after dealing with the tattooed thug, he was not pressed for time.

He decided to search slowly using the Reaper’s Eye.

True to his nature, once he made a decision, he acted immediately.

Careful thinking, but decisive execution—that was his strength.

Without hesitation, he started working as a delivery rider.

For hours, he accepted orders only within nearby areas and ignored distant deliveries.

He spent a long time circling around, but finding the target was not easy.

However, he discovered something else.

“I don’t feel tired.”

It might have been psychological, but even after long hours of delivery, his body didn’t feel fatigue.

For someone like him, who had never taken care of his physical condition, it was a surprising sensation.

Thanks to that, he continued working for another five hours.

Then, as he entered a narrow alley—

In the dimly lit passage, he saw a man stumbling as he walked.

Instinctively, he activated the Reaper’s Eye and looked above the man’s head.

• Drug use
• Drunk driving
• Prostitution

Three sins.

But only one caught his attention.

Drug use.

“Found you.”

That was the same man who had vaguely appeared in the car while receiving drugs earlier.

He might be mistaken—but instinct told him otherwise.

This was the one he had been searching for.

He parked the scooter nearby.

He took out the Reaper’s Robe he had placed in his delivery bag.

Entering the alley, he draped the robe over himself.

And in an instant, his figure vanished completely.

Only the drunk man remained in the alley.

“Ugh… where was my house again…”

Reeking of alcohol, he staggered forward, slurring his words.

A typical drunk at night—no one paid him any attention.

The protagonist followed closely behind, hidden beneath the robe.

The reason he didn’t immediately use Judgment Execution or the scythe was simple.

Information about the Cheolsu faction.

The sins above the man’s head suggested he might hold useful clues.

So he followed, choosing caution over speed.

Eventually, the man entered an old apartment complex.

He took the elevator to the end of the hallway and stood in front of his door.

With trembling hands, he entered the passcode.

The door opened.

At that moment, the protagonist kicked him from behind.

“Oof!”

The drunk man collapsed and rolled across the floor, completely disoriented.

“Hehe… I fell again…”

As if used to it, he crawled toward the living room.

The protagonist quietly closed the door behind him and looked around in disgust.

What kind of life is this?

The living room was filled with empty bottles.

The table reeked of rotting food covered in mold.

The place was worse than a pigsty.

No one else seemed to live here.

No wonder—who would live like this otherwise?

The man crawled onto the sofa, preparing to drink again.

The sight made the protagonist’s disgust grow.

Suppressing nausea, he grabbed the man’s wrist.

“Huh?”

That was the man’s only reaction.

Since the Reaper’s Robe made him invisible, the man only flailed at empty air.

“Hehe…”

As if it didn’t matter, he reached for alcohol with his other hand.

The protagonist twisted his wrist violently.

“Ugh?! AAAAAAAH!!”

The pain finally hit him, and he screamed.

The protagonist shoved a filthy rag from the sofa into his mouth.

“Shut up. You’re noisy.”

Though the man’s struggling strength was abnormal, he was still just an ordinary human.

The protagonist, empowered by his new physical abilities, overpowered him easily.

He searched the man’s body and took his phone.

Unlocking it with fingerprint recognition, he said:

“Phones are convenient these days, aren’t they?”

The man only thrashed helplessly in response.

He wasn’t expecting an answer.

Crack!

He broke the man’s wrist completely and let go.

“Mmmph!!”

Ignoring the man’s agony, he began searching the phone.

He opened messaging apps and checked everything, eventually finding a locked app requiring fingerprint access.

He forced the man’s hand again and unlocked it.

At the top of the messages—

As expected, there was drug trade communication.

“Hmm.”

But that wasn’t what he needed.

He needed a lead—contact information, a way to meet them.

He scrolled upward through the conversation.

After a long search, he finally found it.

[“I’m the person who received a business card at XX Club last time.”]

The rest of the conversation was irrelevant trade talk.

What he needed was the word:

XX Club.