TL/Editor: raei

Status: 5/week mon-fri

Illustrations: posted in discord

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A mysterious glow surrounded the building.

Built as a massive art museum and enhanced by the Association President's residence, this place was truly the headquarters of the Artists' Association - the Palace of Arts.

The directors of the Artists' Association had gathered in the meeting room, speaking in hushed voices.

"The Association President went to collect artworks personally. I wonder how many she'll bring back?"

"Well, I doubt she'll be able to gather as much as we'd hoped."

The directors, who usually argued over artistic differences and ideological disagreements, were now united in anticipation of the Association President's return.

Rescuing artworks from destruction in war. Making the Palace of Arts even more splendid.

How many works would the Association President bring back?

One director with earphones plugged in focused on the sound for a moment, then shook his head.

"The afterlife world has collapsed. Looks like she'll only be able to salvage about three fragments."

Despite hearing that the world the Association President had personally visited had collapsed, none of them seemed concerned for her safety.

These directors served directly under her. They understood what she was better than anyone.

They were merely disappointed that the results didn't meet their expectations.

"Three... I hope they're good pieces."

"Our fragments should be falling this way. I wonder where she is now."

The directors all looked out the window at once.

Sure enough, three translucent meteorites were falling from the blue sky, tracing bizarre trajectories.

Ahead of their path, clouds parted on their own, rainbows appeared, and trees and grass bloomed. All to welcome her.

The directors' faces lit up like children waiting for presents.

Then, the face of the director who had received the news turned pale. The news from his wireless earphone had shocked him.

"Uh, uh."

"What's wrong? We need to go greet the Association President."

The directors who were getting up stopped with strange expressions, and the one who heard the news grimaced as if he had accidentally destroyed a nearly finished artwork.

"The Demon Self-Governing Region, the demons and worshippers in the district were taken out by the Association President."

"..."

For a moment, the directors doubted their ears.

Honestly, they had expected other groups to warn the Association President about anomalous entities on par with her. They were prepared for that.

But the Demon Self-Governing Region? The main base that demon worshippers had barely managed to establish by taking advantage of the anomalous climate?

Wouldn't this drive the other side mad? This wouldn't end with just warnings or checks, would it?

They muttered to themselves without realizing it.

"Have the demon worshippers gone insane? What do they gain by dropping their headquarters into a warzone?"

"The Demon Self-Governing Region? Why? How?"

"Could it be the work of the Doomsday Cult?"

Amidst the confused voices, a gentle voice was added.

"Greetings, artists. I'm a legal councilor from the Demon Self-Governing Region. I've come to discuss this incident."

The directors were startled and turned around to see a man with silver-rimmed glasses and a suit, exuding a professional aura, bowing his head to them.

He reeked of demon. Despite his seemingly fragile appearance, the directors dared not underestimate him.

"A greater demon? Listen to us first. Attacking your headquarters wasn't our intention. It was an accidental incident."

It was an attempt to buy time.

The Association President would arrive soon anyway. Once she arrived, there would be no problem.

Whether the demon knew this or not, he nodded and continued.

"I'm a demon who knows propriety. I abide by rules and laws. I intend to proceed with this matter in a reasonable manner as well."

"Ah, that's a relief. We admit our fault. No, let's sit down and talk about this."

The directors bustled about awkwardly. Being usually immersed in artistic creation, they were unaccustomed to such matters.

Searching for insufficient chairs, wondering what to serve, busily moving around the barren meeting room.

"Where's the water? Cups? Don't we have cups?"

"We don't have enough chairs? Ah, that's the Association President's chair. Don't sit there."

"Why did you move the Demon Self-Governing Region to a warzone? Honestly, your side is also at fault..."

"That's right. What kind of demon are you?"

The demon's eyes narrowed into crescent moons.

"I have many names. Demon of Revenge, Demon of Hammurabi's Code, Demon of Retribution, Demon of Mutual Assured Destruction, Demon of the Doomsday Machine. Today..."

That name. The name of the avenger who roamed the world like a nuclear submarine, moving when the Demon Self-Governing Region was attacked.

The bustling directors froze. They immediately assumed combat stances. Gripping sculpting knives, hammers, clearing their throats.

The demon spoke.

"Don't worry. I came as the Demon of Hammurabi's Code. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

The demon spread his arms wide. As if overcome with joy, a smile threatened to burst across his face.

"Since our headquarters was raided, yours should be raided too. How fair is that?"

Rumble-

The Palace of Arts trembled. The artworks within shuddered. Even the directors couldn't escape its influence.

It felt as if they were enveloped in layers of invisible nets.

Artists focused solely on their craft were powerless before the greater demon's ambush.

A sculptor trembled, clutching a sharp sculpting knife.

"You! How dare you try to steal my children!"

"That's not all. You're all targets for execution. Why, you ask? Because the demons and worshippers have all lost their minds."

"The Association President will be here soon!"

The directors struggled desperately. To buy as much time as possible.

But the greater demon just giggled, looking at them like toys.

"Even I can't handle the Association President. My powers wouldn't work on her either. But will she be able to come here?"

"What do you mean..."

Just then, a faint shadow, the shadow of a massive meteorite, passed over the Palace of Arts. The light streaming through the windows flickered for a moment.

The directors' faces hardened. This was impossible.

"Did the Association President want to go somewhere else?"

"Wake up, you senile old fool! It's another group! Another group is interfering!"

It was just as he said.

Golden Omnipotence, having gorged on gold, was granting the Club President's wish.

The greater demon glanced at the ceiling, sensing the chaos in the sky. The aftermath of the collision between the world moving for the Association President and the force imposed by Golden Omnipotence.

The leaders of two groups, the core anomalous entities of two groups, had twisted the world.

And.

A certain power that had spread through the world before this war began.

The possibility of causing misfortune to specific targets. The fading misfortune tilted the world one last time.

The greater demon's expression was subtle.

'Misfortune to my enemies. Seems the company laid the groundwork in advance. Did they know things would turn out like this?'

Indeed, the war had begun even before the battle. The foundation laid by the company was taking effect.

It was all a misunderstanding. Lee Yeonwoo had simply rolled the dice on a whim to get revenge on the information broker.

But the aftermath was still having an effect now.

"Confiscation!"

As the greater demon raided the directors and the palace for prisoner exchange,

Several dangerous fragments fell towards Yeonwoo's enemies. Towards the Doomsday Cult. Towards their hidden hideouts.

---

---

The Doomsday Cult members were each hiding in their hideouts. The humans who survived the Reptilian boss's rampage, or those who didn't participate in the gathering in the first place, planned to launch synchronized terrorist attacks under the Hijacker's command.

"How long has it been since the war started?"

"Not even an hour yet."

At the height of the war, when the Hijacker opened portals to each hideout, they would terrorize all sorts of cities.

The Doomsday Cult members were checking their explosives, poisons, and anomalous entities when they suddenly looked up.

Translucent meteorites were crossing the sky.

"Isn't that the afterlife? Why is it falling?"

"Did someone proceed with the plan unilaterally? We shouldn't have the resources for that."

Bewildered feelings, excited feelings thinking it was a good thing, and then terrified feelings seeing the meteorites falling towards them.

Three high-ranking Doomsday Cult leaders each saw massive fragments falling towards their hideouts.

The hideouts transformed. Into the afterlife world that had been at war.

"..."

A smoker, who had been deeply inhaling his cigarette and exhaling black smoke, trembled. He saw the afterlife world that appeared before him, a battlefield where all sorts of plants had grown lush.

"The Green Association? Of all things?"

The misfortune that had been tormenting them in small ways had brought him his most lethal enemy.

A human from the Green Sect with flowers blooming on his head and a plant alchemist holding seeds looked at him with puzzled expressions, then glared at the smoker before them.

"A smoker? This won't do! What if He gets exposed to secondhand smoke!"

"He's harming the Association President of the Artists' Association, let's capture and kill him."

The plant alchemist sprinkled seeds, and as the Green Sect's priest clasped his hands, plants grew rapidly.

Plants that absorbed and purified the black smoke.

"..."

The smoker began to flee without looking back. The black smoke exploded in an instant, killing the surrounding plants.

Similar incidents occurred in various places.

Fragments showering down on the Doomsday Cult members' heads.

"I can't win this."

A martial artist boasting superhuman physical abilities saw the Red Giant and ran coughing in the opposite direction.

"Ah... This is."

An electronic ghost made of green character strings suddenly came to his senses, only to come face to face with a mind-eating bird blinking before him.

---

---

At that moment, Yeonwoo was on a call.

"The Club, you say?"

In the hospital, now safe thanks to the cooperation of the company employee ghosts. Yeonwoo had returned to his room and was waiting for the company's contact when he received a call from the Club.

"This is the chief secretary under the Club President. Yeonwoo, you said you'd sell the dice usage rights. We want to buy them now."

"...Now?"

Yeonwoo asked suspiciously.

It was still wartime. Should he take a request from the Club, a hostile group, right now?

The person calling himself the chief secretary spoke calmly.

"The company has approved it."

"If that's the case... What would you like me to roll?"

"The Artists' Association President. It doesn't have to be a full-scale attack. Just enough to be a nuisance would be fine."

He said the Artists' Association President and the Club President were fighting, and asked for even a small interference.

Yeonwoo's voice immediately sank.

"I can't. I cannot do that."

"...Did you perhaps watch it?"

"I did watch it, but."

"Please wait a moment."

The chief secretary covered his phone and said something.

Immediately after, the Association President's influence that Yeonwoo had buried deep in his mind disappeared.

Yeonwoo felt his cleanly washed mind and was bewildered. The twisted psyche, the nonsensical thoughts, the mindset that wasn't like him.

That extensive and severe mental contamination.

"No. Uh."

"We've removed the influence. Will you accept the request?"

"No. I really can't."

Yeonwoo answered sincerely. Get involved with such a monster? It gave him chills.

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