There Is No World For ■■

A moment was all it took to cross the line; a day was more than enough to turn someone into a villain.

『An old proverb from the Deep Tower』

* * *

"This world is not real."

Said the ‘customer’, who had come to the cleaning site, out of the blue.

"It looks like the inside of a game I used to play, but that might not be it either. This place looks pretty similar to the comics, movies, novels, games from the franchise universe that dabbled in all forms of media, like an octopus."

No matter how much he babbled, the janitors didn't stop working as they had an unusually large amount to clean that day.

Two commie elves, four smugglers, and even some back alley thugs who were the smugglers' escorts.

The janitors bagged their bodies in plastic bags before they became maggot food and sprayed chemicals all over the blood-stained floor.

Perhaps he didn’t even expect an answer, as the customer kept chattering while sitting in front of the janitor's truck.

"Actually, I didn't think much about it, but I suddenly had this thought—Perhaps besides me, there are more people who have fallen into this world."

"You know, like the author who writes side story novels based on the fictional universe or even the commercial director."

"People like that wouldn't have become a game character like me... So, how did they get here? Transmigration? Reincarnation?"

His half-joking babbling lacked coherence and logic.

His voice, heard amidst the laughter, sounded like the ramblings of a madman one might hear in the corridor of a mental hospital.

A voice that was… somehow ominous and unsettling.

By then, a few janitors started observing that customer rather noticeably and warily.

Of course, none of the janitors took any action.

After all, no one wanted to fight a crazed murderer who had single handedly slaughtered over forty people, including elves.

Instead, they simply moved their hands and feet busily, hoping to finish the cleaning a bit faster.

"It looks like I'm the only one doing the talking here."

Did he pick up on the atmosphere? Because that babbling customer suddenly shut his mouth.

However, the silence didn't last for long.

Just as the janitors were about to toss the last plastic bag into the truck, the customer suddenly raised his hand and pointed at one of them.

"Hey, you there."

The one that the customer was pointing at was the janitor who was mopping the floor with a filthy mop.

Just like the other janitors, this one was also wearing thick work clothes and a gas mask over his face. He turned to look at the customer.

"Yeah, you. Let me ask you a question."

"...A question?"

The voice of a young man emerged from the gas mask worn by the janitor holding a filthy mop.

"Well, it's not a difficult question. If someone comes into this world through reincarnation, they're called a reincarnator, and if through transmigration, they're called a transmigrator, right? Then what should I be called since I became a game character?"

The janitor glanced at the other janitors before answering the customer.

"Maybe… a protagonist?"

"A protagonist? Why do you think so?"

"Uh, you said you entered the world of a game. Don’t you think that someone who experiences something extraordinary like that deserves to be called a protagonist?"

The customer smirked on hearing the janitor's answer. However, it was more of a sneer than a satisfied smile.

"You might think so, but you're wrong. This universe has another protagonist, you know."

"...Is that so?"

"I already told you, this is a franchise universe. How can some random game character be the protagonist? Think of another term. What comes to mind when you think of games?"

Even though the series of questions were unrelated to cleaning, the janitor holding the filthy mop pondered over it quite seriously.

Or at least he pretended to.

He kept doing so until his quick-witted colleagues snatched the filthy mop from him and cleaned up the remaining traces.

As soon as one of the janitors glanced at him to signal that the cleaning was done, he spoke up.

"...Player. How about that?"

"Player? Oh, I like that! Player, player..."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, the customer rolled the word ‘player’ around on his tongue several times and eventually smiled.

Then, he stood up after a moment and spoke.

"Since you've come up with a pretty good moniker, you’ll be the last one."

"...The last one? What do you mean by that?"

Instead of answering him, the customer 'grabbed' something out of thin air.

Then, as if it had always been there, a long steel sword appeared in the customer's hand.

"W-wait a moment...!"

Seeing the sword, one of the quick-witted janitors tried to pull out a gun. However, the customer was faster.

"Damn it! Run!"

"Alarm! Hit the alarm!"

"Arrrgh!"

A series of screams erupted, followed by the splattering of blood.

James, who was the first to draw his gun, fell without even letting out a scream.

Deokbae, who tried to press the emergency alarm, was sliced across his chest, and Chunsik, who was beside him, collapsed with nothing but a scream that wasn't even a dying wish.

With the deaths of those three as the start, the rest of the janitors were ruthlessly slaughtered. It was swift and brutal, like taking out the trash.

"Why... isn't the alarm..."

The foreman was the last to fall. He kept pressing the unresponsive alarm desperately until his last breath.

It was clear that the signal had been sent, but no sound came from the alarm.

"Of course, it won't ring. I’ve already settled the payments for your lives a long time ago."

Seemingly amused by something, the customer smirked and stomped on the foreman's corpse until the freshly cleaned floor was stained with blood once more.

Only after the foreman's upper body was mangled beyond recognition did he stop and turn his head. The janitor, who had given him the moniker, was trembling as he stared at him.

"Wh-why did you...?"

“Oh, don't misunderstand. It's not like I have a grudge against you guys or anything.”

"..."

"I was slightly short of the XP I needed to level up."

The player laughed as he wiped the blood splattered on his cheek.

"...XP."

"And since I have just started with the prologue, it's better to be a level 10 than a level 9. That will allow me to unlock attributes and learn new skills… After all, progressing through  the academy route becomes easier if I start strong."

The customer shook his sword clean while nonchalantly rambling like a madman. Drops of blood spattered on the floor.

"As promised, you're the last one. And it looks like the XP will be just about right."

The player approached him, but the remaining janitor didn't even attempt to flee. He simply stood there, glaring at the customer—no, the player silently.

Was it because of courage or was it because he had given up, knowing he couldn't escape? Well, it didn't matter to the player.

"Hey, what's your name?"

The player asked as he pressed the sword against the janitor's neck.

"...Dung Beetle."

"Ha! Are you called a dung beetle because you handle crap? You have a terrific naming sense!"

The player applied a bit of pressure to the sword. The blade dug into Dung Beetle's neck, and blood trickled down.

"So Dung Beetle, any last words? I'll listen to them, in honor of reaching level 10."

"...How much was it?"

"What?"

"The price for our lives."

"The payment? It was cheaper than I thought. 250,000 won¹ for each of you. Perhaps he would receive the rest from your wages."

Dung Beetle clenched his fists tight, his body trembling. He bit his lip and held his breath to stifle a scream.

"...Shit."

He tried his best to come to terms with reality. Their boss himself had sold them out. Just to save on labor costs.

…Was this truly reality?

No matter how much he questioned it, reality remained harsh. His fellow janitors, with whom he had been through thick and thin, now lay as nothing but blood and filth on the floor. And soon, he, too, would meet the same fate.

"Don't think too badly of it. Isn't that what mobs are?"

"Mobs? You’re calling us mobs? You! The ones you have killed... Did those people look like mobs to you?"

As Dung Beetle spat out those words, the player snickered and responded.

"Mobs are something that drop XP and items when you kill them. Can you even consider them to be people?"

"You insane, psychopathic son of a... keugh!"

The sword passed through his neck, Dung Beetle’s last words were cut off; and instead of his final words, blood gushed out.

Then, the headless body and the head wearing a gas mask fell to the ground.

"Level up."

The player didn't even glance at the pile of corpses he had just created.

He fiddled with the empty air as if something was there, mumbling about strength and agility, and then left the scene.

Thus ended the act of slaughter in the dead of night. No witnesses, no survivors; it was a quiet ending.

...However, the story didn't end there.

From the spot where the player had left, the headless corpse rose.

Unable to find direction, the corpse wandered aimlessly for a while, circling the same spot. Groping around the floor with its cold, dead hands, desperately searching for something.

Splat.

After wandering around for some time, the corpse found what it was looking for in a pool of blood; its cleanly severed head.

The corpse lifted the head carefully and placed it where it belonged.

Hisss—

As the head settled back onto the neck, black smoke rose from the wound caused by the blade. Then, the flesh and blood began to reattach.

While it seemed to be miraculous, the corpse remained just that—a corpse. The lifeless body, with its stopped heart, remained cold and did not breathe.

However, it wouldn't take long.

The dead janitor would soon come back to life. He would become stronger than before and more... lively.

『Oh, my Chosen One.』

At the place where the player had scattered death, 'it' laughed silently.

***

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