There Is No World For ■■

Screech.

A heavy van, often called a “ban,” came to a stop at the dock entrance.

"They’re faster than I expected."

Before Seti could even finish her sentence, the door of the van slid open. Despite the size of the vehicle, only a single person stepped out.

Dung Beetle focused his mana into his eyes, scanning the person who had exited the van, and immediately furrowed his brow.

'...What the hell?'

The man who stepped out was dressed in a neat suit. The problem, though, was his... unusual head.

'A pig's head?'

Where a normal human face should have been, there was a pig's head—like something out of an ancestral offering table.

It wasn’t a simple pig mask or a costume head. There was no visible gap between the neck and the head.

Whether he had hollowed out a real pig’s head and was wearing it or if that was his actual head... either way, it was grotesque.

The pig-headed man sniffed the air briefly, then started walking toward Seti and Dung Beetle.

Dung Beetle tilted his chin toward Seti, silently asking, ‘What is that thing?’

Seti shrugged and replied, "A government shepherd and watchdog, following me around. He’s kind of weird-looking, huh?"

"...Is he a beastman?"

"Do you really think there’d be beastmen in Africa or one of the protected zones? No, he’s just a... modified human."

"...A human?"

It wouldn’t have been too far-fetched to believe he was some kind of monster from beyond the dimensional rift.

Dung Beetle bit back his further comments. When he thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising.

After all, this was the same government that built a corpse warehouse to deal with necromancers. Adding a monster to the mix was just another drop in the bucket.

"...So, is that pig head supposed to show me why you hate the government?"

"It’s one of the reasons. I’ll show you the real one soon. But before that... it might be a good idea to hide for a bit."

"Now? Where the hell am I supposed to hide...?"

Before Dung Beetle could finish his sentence, Seti dragged a bent metal sheet from the ground over to him.

Dung Beetle didn’t say a word as she covered him with the metal sheet.

"Hmm, this should be enough."

"...You call this hiding?"

"Yep, you look exactly like a corpse crushed under some debris."

"...."

"Just take a little rest."

Dung Beetle didn’t reject Seti’s suggestion. After all, the only reason he had started this ridiculous question game was to buy himself some time to heal.

In the brief silence that followed, Dung Beetle focused on his legs.

Pain was slowly creeping up from his toes and knees, a sign that his broken bones and nerves were beginning to mend.

By the time his body had recovered somewhat, the pig-headed man’s footsteps were nearly upon him.

The man stood just a step away and silently scanned the area.

The ground covered in filth, the remains of the explosion, the titan’s corpse... and finally, Seti, leaning against her war hammer.

After a brief moment of silence, the pig-headed man spoke to Seti.

"Candidate, you engaged in combat without authorization. That’s a violation of regulations."

His appearance was strange, but his voice was shockingly normal. Still, when Dung Beetle heard the man speak, he frowned. He could feel the mana laced within the pig-head’s voice.

Though Dung Beetle wasn’t an expert on magic, he could tell that the mana in the man’s voice was similar to the necromancer’s curse.

In other words, it was disgusting.

"You also used Thunder's Hammer without permission. Candidate, you broke two regulations. Do you take the rules as a joke?"

"..."

"Explain what happened here."

"I refuse."

"...What did you say?"

"I said, I refuse."

"Regulation 15: A candidate cannot refuse a shepherd’s order. The rules are there to be followed, Candidate."

As Dung Beetle listened to their bizarre exchange, he wondered what kind of conversation this was.

Shepherd? Rules? Candidate?

There were too many unfamiliar words to process, but one thing was clear.

Seti had shown him this scene for a reason—she had resolved to show him something.

There was no other explanation for the intensity burning in her blue eyes.

"Answer me, Candidate."

"No."

"Regulation 29: Disobeying orders is considered deviant behavior. Regulation 3: Deviant behavior by a candidate is subject to punishment."

"Do what you want."

"You’ve grown bold, Candidate. Do you not fear the sanctions?"

As soon as the word "sanctions" was spoken, the mana woven into the man’s voice stirred.

"This is your final warning. Explain the situation."

The mana began to arrange itself, forming a spell.

There were no visible signs or sounds, but Dung Beetle knew the pig-headed man had "loaded" a spell.

He tensed, ready to throw a grenade if necessary.

But before he could act, Seti subtly waved a hand behind her back.

-Watch.

Watch what? Dung Beetle relaxed his grip on the grenade.

"Candidate. What is your answer?"

"I have nothing to say."

"I will not tolerate further deviance. If you refuse again, I will punish you in accordance with the rules."

"Then punish me."

As soon as the words left Seti’s mouth, the man raised his hand, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

"Candidate’s deviance confirmed. Initiating sanctions."

Snap.

The pig-headed man snapped his fingers, and the spell he had prepared was activated.

Contrary to Dung Beetle's worries, it wasn’t a particularly impressive spell. It was simply the equivalent of flipping a switch—an easy spell.

But Seti’s reaction to the “switch” was far from simple.

"...!"

She immediately fell to her knees, her body trembling violently. Tears began to stream from her tightly shut eyes.

To an outsider, it might have looked like she was just enduring something, but Dung Beetle, who could sense mana, understood what was happening inside her body.

'...Her body is being twisted.'

Mana was reversing through her veins, stabbing at her muscles, and crushing her vocal cords and lungs, even preventing her from screaming.

Every movement of the mana inside her was meticulously calibrated to inflict pain.

It was a technique designed solely for suffering, allowing neither death nor unconsciousness.

There was no way to defend against it, no way to resist—because the mana attacking her was her own.

Dung Beetle quietly watched as Seti writhed in agony.

Part of his mind toyed with the idea of escaping now, but his curiosity held him in place.

Why was she showing him this?

Why had she asked about his bloodline, about why she hated the government?

And most of all... why had she helped him kill the necromancer?

There was no real connection between them.

A few days ago, they’d fought briefly. He had stolen some of her martial arts, and they had agreed to trade the unicorn horn for their mutual benefit.

That was all. At best, their relationship was barely better than that of a street vendor and a customer.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Seti’s voice interrupted his contemplation.

"This... should be enough... to show you... I hate the government...!"

The pig-headed man tilted his head as if confused by her words, then activated the spell again.

As the soundless scream began again, Dung Beetle sighed softly.

If he wanted answers to his questions, the only option was to continue their game of questions.

His decision was quick, and his actions even quicker. He shoved the metal sheet off of himself and stood up.

He could feel his broken bones reknitting, his torn muscles realigning. He wasn’t in peak condition, but he wasn’t at his worst either.

"...A zombie?"

The pig-headed man tilted his head, confused as he watched Dung Beetle rise. Given his torn clothes and bloodied appearance, it wasn’t an unreasonable guess.

But no zombie would suddenly throw a grenade.

"You crazy—!"

The pig-headed man cursed as the grenade exploded.

Boom!

The explosion echoed, and Dung Beetle shot forward, closing the distance almost instantly, his legs carrying the momentum as he aimed a kick at the pig-headed man’s neck.

Despite the surprise attack, Dung Beetle clicked his tongue. There was no impact from the kick.

Taking a step back to assess, he saw a blue shield covering the man’s neck.

"Feather Step? You’re using Feather Step?!"

The pig-headed man seemed to misunderstand, his body shaking with fear.

"How dare you...! A candidate attacking a shepherd!"

Enraged, the pig-headed man began preparing the same spell he had used on Seti.

Dung Beetle made no effort to correct his misunderstanding. In fact, he leaned into it, moving as if trying to dodge the man’s spell, deepening his misconception.

"You filthy traitor! Do you have no patriotism after all the blood and sweat shed for Feather Step?!"

"...A patriotic pig-headed man? George Orwell would be horrified."

"Shut up!!"

The pig-headed man charged at Dung Beetle, fueled by anger and certain of his victory.

The disgusting mana quickly completed the spell, and without hesitation, the man snapped his fingers.

Snap.

The spell, launched at an unavoidable speed, hit Dung Beetle.

But the spell had no effect on him.

He wasn’t a candidate; he had no idea what that even was.

"What? How... Keh!"

Dung Beetle’s foot slammed down on the pig-headed man before he could react.

Though the protective shield activated, the force of the stomp far exceeded the shield’s limit.

Crack!

The shield shattered, the mana dissipating. The pig-headed man’s body couldn’t withstand the impact and split in half.

As the pig's flesh and cartilage tore apart, the man’s true face was revealed.

"Khh... ugh..."

His face was just as grotesque as the pig’s head had been, with mummified skin and charm papers stuffed into his eye sockets instead of eyes.

Through the blood and flesh of the pig, the true face was just as hideous.

"My... my head..."

Dung Beetle narrowed his eyes, examining the man’s mana.

"...An undead?"

It wasn’t as twisted as the titan created by the necromancer, but the mana coursing through the man was far more twisted than that of a regular zombie.

"...Despite his appearance, he’s still alive. The government uses necromantic curses to create modified humans like this. They’re considered quite valuable."

Seti’s voice broke the silence. When Dung Beetle turned, he saw her using the war hammer as a crutch to pull herself upright.

"This?"

"Even without knowing how to use mana, they can cast spells as long as they have a medium. Simple curses and basic spells, but still enough."

Dung Beetle stared down at the modified human for a moment, then reached out and grabbed his neck.

There was a brief struggle, but when Dung Beetle squeezed harder, snap—the man’s life was snuffed out.

"Ah..."

Seti, clearly surprised, looked back and forth between the corpse and Dung Beetle.

"What, did you think I wasn’t going to kill him?"

"No, it’s not that... I just thought you’d question him a bit more before finishing him off."

With that, an awkward silence settled between them. Seti caught her breath while Dung Beetle collected his thoughts.

A few moments passed before Seti spoke again.

"Shall we continue the question game? It’s your turn to answer, Mr. Dung Beetle."

Dung Beetle remembered the last question she had asked. Why had he killed the government official?

He responded calmly.

"The government killed my comrades."

"..."

"They sold their lives for a handful of money and then tried to sell their bodies to the necromancers."

Dung Beetle paused before adding,

"I intend to kill everyone responsible. That’s why I threw a grenade at the government guy and why I snapped the neck of the modified human just now. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, more than I expected."

"Then it’s my turn to ask."

Dung Beetle fingered the last grenade at his belt, contemplating.

What should I ask? There were plenty of questions swirling in his mind.

What exactly is Feather Step? Why were you stalking me, and what’s your connection to the government?

Why did you show me that scene earlier, and why did you help me kill the necromancer?

...Why, why, why?

Countless questions bubbled up but sank back beneath the surface before they could take shape.

But one question pierced through them all and escaped his lips.

"Seti."

Dung Beetle asked quietly,

"What do you want from me?"