There Is No World For ■■

* * *

Early dawn, three days after Dung Beetle had burned down the corpse warehouse, and two days after he had purchased the weapons.

Hidden beneath the veil of the darkness of the night, a black sedan approached Pier 13.

The sedan, which was clearly expensive by anyone’s standards, made its way deep into the pier before coming to a stop.

In the darkness of the pier, where even the moonlight avoided casting its light, the sedan's headlights shone bleakly.

It was almost 30 minutes before anyone got out of the sedan, which had been parked for quite some time.

Two armed men and a man in a suit.

The man in the suit, looking extremely uneasy, was sweating profusely with a scowl on his face.

Is he from the government, or…?

Still unsure, Dung Beetle watched them from a distance. Werethey really the people the operations director had mentioned?

Was the government really running the Janitor Guild to sell corpses to Necromancers?

Using the same method as Park Seti, Dung Beetle began using the Flying Kick technique. Mana gathered under his feet, and then, he leaped from one container to another container.

- Damn… those fucking janitors… the warehouse… couldn’t even… job properly…

As he reached the container directly behind the sedan, he could hear the voices that weren’t audible from a distance.

…Sir… the potions… received… public official… hero…

Pouring mana into his ears and focusing on his hearing, Dung Beetle couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief.

Janitor, warehouse, public official, potions.

Yes, they were indeed government officials.

Dung Beetle fidgeted with his shotgun at his waist as the cold touch of the gun cooled his head.

Now, the Necromancer will also arrive.

Dung Beetle didn’t even have to wait for long. As soon as he took his position, the loud noise of an exhaust could be heard from the only entryway to the pier.

The first thing that caught his eye were the headlights, which were higher than most cars—and it was not just one pair, but five of them.

Trailers?

Five enormous trucks, each hauling containers similar in size to those at the pier, entered.

Although the combination seemed too conspicuous for a Necromancer, seeing the suited man look almost tearful and restless, confirmed that the vehicles did indeed belong to the Necromancer.

And on top of that, the smell…

As the trucks drew closer, the stench he had often encountered during his janitor days grew stronger.

It smells like rotting corpses…

Creak!

At some point, the trucks had reached deep inside the pier and lined up in front of the sedan. Then, the door of the middle truck opened.

“It’s been a while, Secretary.”

The person who stepped out of the truck was a man dressed in a neat formal suit.

His skin so white that it was practically pale, and the truck headlights shining behind him, he almost looked like a corpse.

“Y-yes, i-i-it’s been a while, Master Buzum. You’ve really, um, grown quite distinguished since we last met.”

The man in the suit bowed so deeply that it almost seemed obsequious.

The armed guards behind him also looked somewhat subdued, as if it were a meeting between a debtor and a creditor rather than a transaction scene.

And it seemed that even the Necromancer found this attitude strange as he narrowed his eyes and asked.

“Secretary, where are the goods? Have they not arrived yet?”

“Well, the thing is…”

“The thing is…?”

“There’s been a bit of a problem… So, the delivery… will be slightly delayed this time.”

As soon as the suited secretary finished speaking, the air around them turned frigid.

Even Dung Beetle, watching from atop a container, felt the chill.

“…Is there some sort of problem?”

“Well, due to an unforeseen accident… the corpse warehouse… w-was completely burnt down.”

“Burnt down? Are you saying everything caught fire?”

“Yes, that’s… what happened.”

“Sigh, I can’t believe this…”

Annoyance flashed across the Necromancer Buzum’s pale face for a brief moment.

“You must have a reason for coming here even though you don’t have the goods, right? You must have one!”

“Y-yes! Of course! The higher-ups are very apologetic about this situation.”

“And?”

“F-For the next transaction, we promise to deliver an additional 700 corpses along with the ones we weren’t able to deliver this time.”

“Next time. ‘Next time’, you say, huh…?”

The Necromancer scanned the secretary from top to bottom with a cold expression.

"Did you come here hoping that you could take the goods first this time?"

“M-Master Buzum, you can… understand our situation, right? Just one more mage during this enrollment season…”

Just as the secretary was about to bash his forehead against the ground, Buzum waved his hand to cut him off.

“You can stop right there, Secretary. If we were to quibble over it, this situation isn't entirely your fault now, is it?”

“…”

“And it isn’t like we’ve been trading with each other for just a year or two; it's been more than a few years already. So, we should at least be able to understand the difficulties you're facing.”

As Buzum snapped his fingers, something walked out from the container at the back of the truck.

Rooooaaar…..

Was once human and still resembled humans, but was no longer human.

Zombies.

As if escorting it, they brought a carefully packaged box to the Necromancer.

Despite the disgusting sight of the zombies, which clearly were Korean corpses, there was no sign of revulsion or fear on the secretary’s face.

“Oh…”

It was because his eyes were fixed on the box the zombies were carrying.

“Please check.”

The zombies carefully opened the box they were holding. And inside it were three vials of potion, each emitting a brilliant glow.

“Awakening Potions… They are truly beautiful, no matter how many times you see them.”

The secretary inspected the vials, which were slightly smaller than a soju bottle, with the same care one would use while handling jewels.

At that moment, Dung Beetle, positioned above them, had the last of his doubts dispelled.

No, he was finally certain.

Although it was the Janitor Guild that had been gathering corpses for Necromancers, the Korean government was the one giving the orders.

All because of that damn potion…

His colleagues were killed. Although it was the player who wielded the sword, in the end, it was the government that had pushed them to their death.

As his suspicion turned into certainty, Dung Beetle pulled a grenade from his waist.

A brief moment was all it took for his anger to turn to rage, but his actions were swift.

He pulled the pin and tossed the grenade down.

By the time the Necromancer and the government officials looked up on hearing something fall, the grenade’s fuse had already detonated.

BOOM!!

It exploded just above their heads. The two armed men were swept away by the explosion before they could even let out a scream.

However, the Necromancer and the suited man managed to narrowly escape the blast thanks to the small secretary badge, which emitted a protective shield that barely shielded them, on the suited man’s clothes.

“It looks like we have an uninvited guest.”

The Necromancer turned to the secretary.

“I hope this isn’t a trap set up by the Korean government.”

“No way, Sir! Why would the government do something like this… O-over there!”

However, they were unable to finish their conversation as two grenades were falling towards them this time.

“Undead, block them!”

Following Buzum’s order, the surrounding zombies immediately threw themselves at the grenades.

BOOM! BOOOM!!!

When the two grenades exploded, the zombies swept away by the blast were sent flying. The firepower was simply excessive for just two grenades.

“...This isn’t an ordinary bomb.”

Buzum frowned as he stared at the spot where the grenades had exploded. The zombies that had thrown themselves at the grenades had died with ‘only’ their limbs blown off.

Since it couldn’t be a grenade blessed by the gods, it had to be an anti-magic grenade that was hard to come by.

“Does the Korean government have its tail followed?”

No, the important thing wasn’t about who was being tailed; the real issue was that there was a lunatic throwing grenades from right above them.

Buzum shook his head and began chanting a spell.

“Arise, Undead!”

Clunk, following his call, the sound of something happening beyond the container door at the back of the truck could be heard, and then the door creaked open with a screeching sound.

Rooooaaar…

Kkkeeuuu…

And beyond the door were newly awakened corpses, or rather, zombies.

“Protect your master.”

The zombies, packed tightly inside the container, crawled out one by one. And in no time, a barricade of zombies had formed around the Necromancer.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’ve picked the wrong opponent to mess with. Do you know who the hell I am?”

“A maggot feeding on corpses.”

Dung Beetle replied as he jumped down from the container. He landed as softly as a feather, and the Necromancer’s pale face contorted.

“A Superhuman?”

An anti-magic grenade and an unidentified Superhuman—The Necromancer quickly arrived at a conclusion.

“...It seems like information regarding the potion has been leaked.”

Dung Beetle didn’t respond and simply rushed towards him. The Necromancer immediately pulled out a wand from his robe.

The bizarre wand with a raven skull emitted a green light as he pointed at Dung Beetle.

“Are you an amateur? Your method is too crude. What can a single Superhuman even do?”

Buzum channeled his mana into the wand and swung it. Flash! The magic contained within the wand reacted, causing a green liquid to spew out.

Dung Beetle instinctively avoided the liquid and changed directions.

Sssss! As the liquid passed by Dung Beetle and hit the ground, the concrete floor of the pier melted like butter.

“Those destined to die, bring death!”

Seemingly anticipating that the acidic magic would miss, Buzum immediately gave orders to the zombies.

The first to respond to his command were the zombies whose legs hadn’t decayed yet.

Kieeeek!

They charged at Dung Beetle fiercely, like beasts that had lost all reason.

And without any hesitation, Dung Beetle swung his foot toward them.

He executed the clean spinning kick demonstrated by Park Seti, causing the zombies rushing from the front to fall one after another.

However, taking out a few of them with a kick was just a minor setback. More and more zombies surged forward, trampling over the fallen ones.

Kyaaaak!

Dung Beetle distanced himself to avoid the flood of zombies. The zombies weren’t even able to graze his clothes as he moved using the Flying Kick Technique. However, the real problem was the Necromancer.

Dung Beetle frowned as he gauged the distance between them. Like a driven hunt, the zombies seemed to keep him away from the Necromancer.

Is this a delay tactic?

Zombies could never defeat a Superhuman.

No matter how much they bit at them or clawed with their decayed bodies, it was impossible to inflict any fatal damage on a Superhuman.

This was common knowledge, proven in the Miami terror attack that took place over thirty years ago, where hundreds of Necromancers were slaughtered.

And it was impossible that the Necromancer would be unaware of something that even Dung Beetle, who had become a Superhuman just three days ago, knew.

Dung Beetle used the Flying Kick technique to leap up and once he rose to about twice his height, he spotted the Necromancer hiding behind the zombies.

As expected, he was holding a wand with his eyes closed, muttering something.

So, he’s buying time to complete the spell.

Having confirmed what the Necromancer was doing, there was only one thing left for him to do.

Dung Beetle took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin… and threw it.

Seeing the grenade arc through the sky, the zombies hastily hurled themselves at the Necromancer.

BOOOOMM!

With a deafening explosion, a massive number of zombies were swept away.

Although the Necromancer wasn’t hit by the explosion, the hurried movement of the zombies interrupted his spell.

He glared at Dung Beetle with a fierce look in his eyes and said.

“Those bombs won’t last forever. Let me see for how long you can keep struggling.”

“It’s me who wants to see how long you can keep struggling with your precious zombies.”

Dung Beetle sprang towards the zombies as soon as he landed on the ground.

Kyaaaak!

Rooooaaar…

Dung Beetle let himself crash into the zombies charging at him.

As the zombie at the front opened its mouth to bite, he smashed its head.

Another zombie flew through the air, reaching out to grab Dung Beetle. Dung Beetle caught the arm of the zombie swinging its claws and tore it off.

Scratch, bite, hug… The zombies’ attacks were simple.

However, there were too many of them and they continued to surge towards Dung Beetle, like a swamp he couldn’t escape from.

“What a fool. Has he lost his mind?”

As Buzum prepared another spell, he laughed at Dung Beetle’s actions.

He was worried that the man might escape because of the slow zombies, but he was now charging at them.

The Necromancer felt like a fool for having been concerned about the number of grenades that remained.

“You filthy maggot. If you want to die so badly, fine. I'll grant you that wish...”

Just as Buzum was about to say that, a loud gunshot interrupted him.

BANG!

One by one, the zombies collapsed in the wake of the gunshot.

“…A shotgun?”

Seeing that the zombies he had carefully prepared were being swept away, it was clear that this shotgun, like the grenades, was no ordinary weapon.

“Crazy bastard, you really came prepared.”

Buzum’s voice grew grave as he prepared his spell, and the moment the zombies rushed in to fill the gaps, the Remington MH750 in Dung Beetle’s hand fired once again.

***

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