Chapter 42 - Found You at Last

“Hah, hah.”

A few old streetlights stood along the narrow, deserted road. Everything else was shrouded in darkness. He ran down it, gasping for breath.

“Haaah, haaah!”

He had pushed himself so hard that every breath stung his throat like a needle, and his heart pounded as though it might burst. Still, he did not stop running.

No. He could not stop.

He did not know where he was, why he was running, or even who he was. The only thing he knew was that he had to run.

CRASH!

“Ghk!”

Perhaps it was his haste. As he ran, squeezing out every last breath, his foot caught on a small piece of metal and he went sprawling. He fell so hard that his forehead was covered in blood and one ankle dangled limply, as though the bone had broken.

But he did not writhe in pain. He clawed at the ground, desperate to crawl even a little farther.

CREEEAK.

“...!”

Then his hands stopped. A sound like metal scraping against metal came from behind him, stiffening his entire body.

He must not look back. He was sure of that, yet his head turned against his will, creaking like a rusty tin doll.

What he saw was a piece of metal: the shabby, worthless scrap that had tripped him, the sort of thing that belonged in a junkyard. Yet his eyes widened, because it was changing.

As though time were running backward, rust peeled from its surface and the metal slowly rose out of the ground where it had lain buried. It was beautiful and antique, like a work of art, yet it gave off an eerie gleam even in the darkness. Without realizing it, he murmured, “A sword...?”

What was this sword? Why had it been discarded here? How had he managed to trip over it? The questions flashed through his mind and vanished even faster.

SHING.

As though it were alive, the sword drew itself from its sheath and floated into the air. Its blood-red tip pointed at him as it slowly approached, making his eyes bulge.

‘My body...!’

Instinctive terror made him try to crawl away, but it was hopeless. His limbs would not budge, as though he were caught in sleep paralysis, and his despair deepened.

‘This can't be happening.’

He could not move. He could not run. He could not turn his head. He could not even close his eyes. All he could do was watch the blade inch toward him.

‘This can't be real.’

He had worked harder than anyone, even cutting into the time he spent eating and sleeping. He had shaken off the hands that tried to drag him back and leaped over everything in his path. Though he had never reached the very front, he had made it close enough to stand in its glow.

That could not be how it ended for him. If there was a god in this world, it simply could not be.

‘This is a dream.’

The sword drew closer. The blade slowly grew larger before his eyes, its tip aimed unwaveringly at his eyeball. Staring wide-eyed at its cold, blue-tinged edge, he repeated to himself:

‘This is a dream!’

It was not real. It could not hurt. He could not die. He could not be cut. It would all be over in a moment. If he could just wake up, just wake up...!

‘This is a dre—!’

SQUELCH.

At that moment, a sound rang out like a spoon plunging into pudding.

* * *

“Aaaaaah!”

Park Hyeon-gun jolted upright with a scream. He spent a long while gasping for breath, his whole body drenched in cold sweat. Then he instinctively felt around his eyes. Only after confirming that both were intact did he recover enough composure to look around.

The chair he had knocked over as he rose. The desk with a few documents on it. The painting on the wall and the familiar ornaments. Together, they told him he was in the Infinity Guild's secretarial office. He wiped away his cold sweat.

“Did I doze off...?”

No matter how tired he was, a high-level player nodding off in his chair was embarrassing. If anyone had seen him, he would never have been able to hold his head up.

But Park Hyeon-gun felt no shame. An overwhelming relief unlike anything he had ever known crowded every other emotion from his mind.

‘What a horrible nightmare.’

Whether it was his awkward sleeping position or exhaustion from overwork, it was a dream he never wanted to have again. If exhaustion was to blame, he might seriously consider sleeping more from now on.

‘No, more importantly, what's happened?’

His relief was brief. Park Hyeon-gun's thoughts soon left the trivial matter of a dream and returned to reality.

‘Still no word from the Blue House? Or from the Monarch?’

Remembering what had troubled him before he fell asleep—the reason he had been working at the guild so late—he bit his lip.

It had already been a day since Lee Cheon-gi had gone to deal with Limon, who had taken hostages at the Blue House. Back then, Park had believed it would all be over quickly. There was no problem the Infinite Monarch could not solve in person.

His faith had not wavered when reports came in of tremendous blasts and flashes at the Blue House, loud enough to split the sky and shake the earth. Nor had it wavered when he heard that the commotion had abruptly ceased.

But now, a full day later, he could no longer hold back his mounting anxiety.

‘Where on earth is the Monarch, and what is he doing?’

Judging from when the commotion stopped, Limon must have been dealt with by Lee Cheon-gi yesterday. The question was why Lee had not returned. Knowing how much importance Lee placed on reporting in, Park found this sudden loss of contact all the harder to understand.

He had even sent Tracers to gather information about the Blue House. But they had accomplished little. No skill, from 『Clairvoyance』 to 『Answers from the Stars』, could spy on its interior. It was almost as if even the great constellations were afraid to look inside.

“... I really must be tired.”

A constellation, afraid of something? He muttered to himself and scoffed at his own absurd thought. Then he calmly made a plan.

‘I have to investigate.’

His conclusion was simple: if there was still no word by morning, he would send in the Infinity Guild's raid team to investigate the Blue House firsthand.

Of course, he was not the deputy guild master and had no authority to deploy the guild himself. But he knew how to get the deputy guild master to act.

‘He's crazy about items... Give him a duke-class item from the guild's storeroom, and he'll gladly do me a favor this small.’

That would plainly exceed his authority as a secretary. As always, though, Park Hyeon-gun paid no mind to such a minor issue. He took out his phone, considering which item to offer.

“Let me make sure of something first.”

“...!”

Before he could place the call, Park froze. It was not merely the unfamiliar voice speaking in the secretarial office, where he had been alone moments ago.

“Your name is Park Hyeon-gun, right?”

The window now stood wide open. Perched on its sill was a white-haired man, watching him with golden eyes. The sight left Park stunned.

“L-Limon Aspelder?”

“What, am I your friend, you little shit? Calling me by name when we haven't even introduced ourselves?”

“How did you get in here...!?”

How could Limon, who should have died at Lee Cheon-gi's hands long ago, be standing before him alive? Even in his shock and confusion, Park instinctively reached beneath the desk.

Limon made no effort to stop him. He merely spoke in a languid voice. “You'd better give up hoping someone will come to help you.”

Park flinched. It was not just that Limon had seen through his attempt to press the emergency button. Only then did he realize how unnaturally quiet it was around them, even for the middle of the night. It was as though everyone but him had vanished.

“What have you done?”

“That's none of your business.”

How had Limon gotten in? What had he done with the guild members who should have been there? Limon brushed aside the question that held all of Park's doubts. Resting his chin on one hand, he said, “You only need to answer one question.”

“What do you...?”

Park bristled, about to protest the way Limon demanded an answer without granting him the right to ask anything—as though an answer were his due simply because he had asked.

“Were you the one who took the kids at Hanbit Orphanage hostage and made Na-gyeong carry out a suicide bombing?”

The moment he heard the question, Park felt his blood run cold. Not merely because he had never expected it. Limon was watching him intently, as though looking forward to his answer. One look at those strangely still golden eyes told Park that his fate depended on what he said next.

It was only a gut feeling, the kind Park Hyeon-gun would normally have laughed off.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Yet when he opened his mouth, he denied it firmly. Even setting instinct aside and thinking rationally, he had nothing to gain by admitting anything that would put him at a disadvantage.

“You don't know?”

Limon tilted his head slightly, as though surprised. Park met his gaze and said with confidence, “The Monarch personally handled matters concerning you. Some orders were issued without going through me.”

“So you're saying the Infinite Monarch was the one who ordered me killed, and you know nothing at all about Hanbit Orphanage or Na-gyeong?”

“That's right.”

“Hmm. Is that so? You don't know.”

Limon nodded to himself as though he had heard something important. Park did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. Unbeknownst to others, his unique skill, 『False God's Renown (僞神威名)』, was powerful enough to rival an Absolute Skill. No Tracer had ever detected his lies. It was impossible for Limon, who had no skill at all, to see through them.

Limon studied Park for a moment, then laughed.

“Heh. Heh, heh, heh...”

His shoulders shook. At first the laughter was faint, little more than air escaping his lungs. It grew louder and louder until he threw back his head and roared.

“Bwahahahahaha!”

He laughed uproariously for some time, as though it were too funny to contain. Then he stopped abruptly and slowly raised his head. Looking at Park Hyeon-gun with the eyes of a predator that had found its prey, he said with a growl,

“So it was you.”