Life is Easier If You're Handsome novel Chapter 257

From the moment they’re born, all people eventually die.

They just aren’t born for the purpose of dying.

As a child, I realized that truth faster than anyone else.

“The weak die. Because they are weak, because they are pitiful, Heaven takes pity and lets them die.”

Is that why Mother died?

At the time, I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud.

My father’s words sounded too cold—too solitary.

Like if I approached carelessly, he’d cut me.

“You must grow strong. Stronger.”

What is strength?

My father never stopped repeating that he was “the strongest under Heaven,” though he lived in a narrow, rural village.

He’d boast about uncertain tales from his past.

Talk about being the best.

Flex his prowess before farmers who had never wielded anything but a plow.

What was the point of any of that?

How foolish is it to grip a sword in a land at peace?

From the moment that thought took root—somewhere in my heart, I began to look at my father with pity.

No matter how good the martial arts he taught, no matter how righteous his lessons—

That gaze within me never softened.

If you compare yourself to the heavens and call yourself the strongest, how can you not see how pitiful you are?

An arrogant sky is no sky at all. You mustn’t keep staring at a setting sun.

The moment I realized that, I decided to leave home.

Because in that tiny world, I could never be the best.

From that moment on, I fought like mad to escape the well I was born in.

“Surpass me! If you surpass me, you’ll be the strongest under Heaven!”

The first thing I did was beat my father.

Breaking the link of blood—that endlessly suffocating chain.

And whether it was fortunate or not, I’d inherited his talent.

“Guh-ack...!”

At an early age, I managed to bring him down.

I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t.

It’s not like you can kill someone with a wooden sword.

All I did was sever it.

The chain of blood.

The knot of fate.

Once I cut it that first time, everything else became easy.

I thought I could sever any tie that bound me.

Until she appeared before me.

The woman who said I’d once saved her life.

Who said she nearly lost her chastity, but thanks to me, she kept it.

She came running to me, saying she wanted to stay by my side forever.

No matter how many times I threatened to kill her, she didn’t flinch.

She said she was already living on borrowed time.

That she didn’t care when she died.

And somehow... that reminded me of my mother.

A scent I didn’t even remember began to # Nоvеlight # flood my senses.

And so the urge to kill her grew stronger.

Scrrrrk.

I drew my sword.

The longer blade, and pointed it at her.

“I know. I’ve been dead since that day. You may as well kill me.”

“...”

That was the moment I realized—

I had never once prepared myself to die.

I prided myself on living closer to death than anyone else.

But I had never carried the same resolve she had.

Eyes trembling, tears gathering... and yet she still came toward me.

The fact that she didn’t hesitate even when my blade touched her throat—

Wasn’t because she wasn’t afraid.

But because she had already accepted that fear.

The more I thought about it, the more frightened I became.

Of her—

this woman with delicate wrists, incapable of even lifting a sword.

Because somehow... she seemed to be living stronger than I was.

And so I let the sword fall.

Clatter.

All that talk about being a Musha, a samurai, a warrior on the path of carnage—

All of it lost meaning. My earlier threats now hollow.

I crumbled in the face of her step alone.

“What... what the hell is this...”

I couldn’t cut her. The moment I realized that—

I panicked.

And suddenly—

I embraced her.

Like some dumb animal burying its head in the dirt to feel safe because it can’t see danger—

I did the same.

“...What is your name?”

“What name does a dead woman need? But if you must call me something, then... please choose one.”

“Then... I shall call you Youko.”

Youko.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The name of the woman who first taught me what death truly looked like.

And the name of the formidable foe I met on the path of carnage.

A woman I must cut—

And perhaps the one I might one day embrace.

Leaving behind that tangled heart,

I picked up the fallen sword.

One arm held the woman.

The other held the blade.

What greater luxury could there be?