Return of the Sword God-Rank Civil Servant-Chapter 479

After flying for quite a while, the place Su-ho arrived at was none other than the S-rank Training Center located inside Nexus Academy.

There was no staff.

Well, he hadn’t told anyone he was coming in the first place.

But it didn’t matter.

If it was Nexus Academy, and if it was Su-ho of all people, then this place was no different from his own master bedroom.

“Yeah. How did I not think of that?”

Su-ho grinned from ear to ear as he opened the center with his Master Card and went inside.

Then, after booting up Infinity—the virtual reality program that had been upgraded yet again—he started inputting the commands he needed.

'If I’m so strong that I don’t have any rivals, then I just need to downgrade myself.'

And on top of that, he could simply ‘create’ people who were stronger than him.

It felt stupid.

It was such an easy problem, and it was the core of it all, yet he’d overlooked it this whole time.

Thinking that if Destruction Fist got upgraded through Infinity, he should give Grid one Rune of the Seven Deadly Sins, Su-ho lay back inside the capsule device.

[ Starting the Infinity program. ]

A familiar notification.

Soon his consciousness was transmitted, and when Su-ho opened his eyes again, he had arrived in “Kunlun,” the place where he used to train Banshee and the kids all the time.

Su-ho immediately snapped his fingers and began activating the commands he’d input.

[ Starting the input program, ‘An Su-ho Upgrade Program’ . ]

Wiiing!

The program, “An Su-ho Upgrade Program,” began.

There wasn’t really a need to name it, but he’d slapped on a rough name so it would be easy to find later when he wanted to use it again.

As the project activated, an avatar with the exact same build as Su-ho was summoned before his eyes. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

The avatar had no name.

He just called it a dummy.

But that dummy was Su-ho himself, created in Su-ho’s image—because it didn’t only copy his appearance. It replicated everything: the techniques and skills he used, his stat values, all of it.

Su-ho snapped his fingers once more.

Then identical status windows with identical numbers floated above Su-ho’s head and the dummy’s head, and above them appeared the words, “Overall Combat Power : 100.”

Su-ho said with a grin,

“Alright, in front of my eyes I’ve got a duplicate that’s identical to me in every way. That guy uses my techniques, my habits, my behavior, my stat values—hell, even my combat sense is the same. Because I set it that way. And because of that.”

When Su-ho stepped toward the dummy, the dummy moved the exact same way as Su-ho.

And when Su-ho threw a straight punch at the dummy, the dummy also moved exactly the same—like Su-ho in a mirror, without even a hair’s breadth of error—and collided with Su-ho’s extended fist.

And the moment their fists met.

Paaang!!

For an instant, the sound of the air popping rang out, and a blast of pressure spread outward.

Heh—

At the flashy effect, Su-ho smiled.

“If we both swing the same punch like that, neither of us gets pushed back and only the air explodes. Sounds impossible? Sorry, but it’s possible. This is reconstructed through a program.”

It looked like he was talking to himself like a lunatic in a place with no audience, but Su-ho was diligently explaining it to the Transcendent Shiva, who was probably watching from somewhere.

“You’d better not dismiss this as nonsense. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your country India is better at this kind of stuff than you’d think—and knows it well, too. As a joke, back when math and science were hard, university students all over the world used to study by listening to lectures from Indian uncles on YouTube.”

No matter how ancient a god was, he’d know his own country’s traits, right?

Su-ho adjusted the program as he continued.

“Alright, so in that spirit—if I keep the dummy’s combat power at 100 and only lower mine to 90, then?”

Ding-ding-ding-ding!

Su-ho’s combat power dropped from 100 to 90.

After confirming the number, Su-ho swung his fist again, and the dummy moved with him.

And the moment their fists met.

Kwaaang!!

Earlier, the pressure had spread outward from both of them, but this time it blasted only behind Su-ho, as if spewing out in a single direction.

It was the effect of the dummy’s Overall Combat Power being 10 higher.

“How about that? You can definitely feel the difference in strength, right?”

Su-ho’s lips curled upward.

So, what now?

That was when—

[ ■■ feels interest in your trick. ]

A system notification.

When he saw it, Su-ho unconsciously scrunched up his nose and the space between his brows, feeling a jolt of thrill.

“Yeah! You sick pervert! You’re finally showing interest!”

Hah! Damn it! How long had he been waiting for this moment?

If he’d recognized the simple, basic rule Grid had talked about from the start, he wouldn’t have wasted time on those damn three islands.

But he decided it was fine anyway.

Because he’d realized an important fact he’d been missing—even if it was only now.

Raising his fist, Su-ho said,

“Watch closely. Watch how I overcome an opponent who’s identical to me, and yet stronger than me.”

This wasn’t some reckless empty promise.

He truly had confidence he could win.

How many times had he beaten boss monsters dozens of levels higher than him back when his stat values were lower?

Even when he wasn’t a regressor, it had been the same.

How many challenges had he thrown himself into just to bring down the Sword Emperor?

In the present, in the past, and in the future, he would always win.

'As long as I don’t get betrayed by someone I trust, anyway.'

After finishing his preparations, Su-ho shouted,

“Alright, let’s start!”

Bang!

The moment Su-ho stomped the ground, the dummy—until now like a mirror mode—finally began moving in earnest.

Was it an earthquake?

No, a better description would be being in the middle of a battlefield where artillery rained down.

The Kunlun created by Infinity looked exactly like that—like the center of a warzone under an artillery barrage.

And at the center of that barrage-like noise were none other than Su-ho and the dummy.

The two of them fought viciously.

They couldn’t not.

The dummy was an avatar Su-ho had created by inputting all his own data.

That was why, for the first time in a very long while, Su-ho was feeling genuine thrills in a fight against another person.

'This is the first time I’ve felt this tense since Girard.'

Yeah.

This was a real fight.

Looking at the overall score, Su-ho was clearly the one being pushed back.

Because the two of them moved almost the same, most exchanges became attack versus defense rather than attack versus evasion.

And defense isn’t invincibility.

Even the act of guarding itself racks up damage, big and small.

But Su-ho’s mouth was smiling brighter than ever.

Because it was fun.

At his core, Su-ho was a martial artist who had walked the path of the sword—a stubborn, single-minded type.

Someone who felt ecstasy not from money or fame, but from defeating an opponent and achieving mastery in swordsmanship.

But unlike the old chain-killing maniac “Mad Sword,” Su-ho had one clear difference: he possessed a firm sense of purpose—humanity’s peace.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Their exchanges continued without pause.

So far, Su-ho had not allowed the dummy a single clean hit.

Because since the opponent was him and he was the opponent, he knew better than anyone how the dummy would move.

But even if he wasn’t allowing clean hits, chip damage through guards and blocks kept accumulating on his body.

Of course, the dummy was in the same situation.

The dummy also did not allow Su-ho any solid, effective blows.

But the dummy’s Overall Combat Power was 10 higher than Su-ho’s.

At a glance, it might seem like only a ten percent difference—yet in battles between masters, victory is decided by the thickness of a sheet of paper.

There’s a reason people say fights between masters are decided by their condition on that day.

But the gap between Su-ho and the dummy was unmistakable.

Like measuring with a ruler, like weighing on a scale—because Su-ho had lowered himself by exactly 10.

That was °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° why, even while pounding the dummy nonstop, it was Su-ho whose body and fists were the ones accumulating damage.

Baaack!!

The dummy’s fist whipped into Su-ho’s forearm.

It hurt so much that even knowing the other person was him, his expression slipped for a moment.

But only for a moment—Su-ho’s fist immediately hammered the dummy again.

No items were used.

No skills were used.

There were no rules.

And with no rules, naturally, there was room for foul play.

This wasn’t a sport.

It was a duel, a brawl, a battle.

Su-ho kept throwing punches any way he could to devour the dummy that looked exactly like him.

And he got hit.

It hurt.

But the pain faded quickly.

Thanks to the adrenaline surging explosively through him.

Through his numb forearm, the bastard’s fist wormed in again.

The same pattern again.

Persistent bastard.

You really do keep hitting the same spot, don’t you?

But that’s also my style.

If you hit the same place repeatedly, eventually it becomes a weak point—and you make a hole that collapses.

Watching the dummy’s fist flying at him, Su-ho thought about many things.

If he parried that and counterattacked, then it would come in like this and that again.

So what should he do?

The accumulating physical damage didn’t feel unbearable, but he couldn’t ignore it completely.

If he died here, Infinity would auto-revive him anyway—but what, did he come here to play a game?

He needed victory.

It didn’t have to be overwhelming.

A single win—strong and unmistakable.

A win that could stimulate the nerve endings of that damn perverted God of Destruction watching from somewhere.

He had to think.

He had to find a way to beat a duplicate that followed him like a ghost.

Victory through sudden skill evolution?

No.

He didn’t want that.

There wasn’t even a skill left to evolve in the first place.

It wasn’t a joke—there truly weren’t any skills left for him to evolve.

Especially in this barehanded fight, unless Shiva chose him, there would be no further development for his Destruction Fist.

That was why he had to win this fight cleanly and nobly.

Using nothing but the body he’d been given.

Think. He had to think.

Something I would never do.

A choice I would never make.

An action I would never take.

The dummy’s fist, swung like a whip, was now right in front of his nose.

In that sliver of time, Su-ho thought of countless things.

And when the bastard’s fist came truly close—almost touching—white lightning struck through Su-ho’s mind.

'Yeah. This is it!!'

Kwaaaang!!

A collision of immense power.

A massive blast of pressure born in the process.

The dirt and dust flew in a vicious cloud.

And through that vicious, swirling dust—

Kwaang! Kwaaang!! Kwaaang!!

The insane sound of bombardment began echoing again.

What was it?

What on earth was happening?

The dust grew even thicker.

The barrage-like impacts kept ringing out.

Then, at some point, they cut off—abruptly.

“......”

Silence fell over everything.

Like the silence of a battlefield after a storm of shelling has swept through.

Then the dust cleared.

Within the cleared dust, there was a gigantic crater, as if an actual bombardment had hit.

At the center of the enormous crater, one person was holding a limp corpse.

But he wasn’t simply holding it.

The arms of the one standing and the arms of the limp body were grotesquely tangled together.

One thing, however, was certain: the one standing was gripping the other’s flesh hard enough to draw blood.

Shiva’s eyes shifted.

And when he looked at the number above the standing man’s head, he began to chuckle.

[ ■■ bursts into loud laughter at the sight of you. ]

The reason Shiva laughed—

Was because the number written above the standing man’s head was “90.”

And at the same time, the words Su-ho had wanted so desperately began spilling out from his mouth.

[ ■■ acknowledges you. ]

[ ■■ feels a very great interest in you. ]

[ ■■ introduces itself as the ‘God of Destruction’ . ]

It was the moment of the succession rite.