There Is No World For ■■

The express train reached its destination at noon, the sun gleaming directly overhead.

Originally, they were supposed to arrive around dawn, but due to an unexpected stop along the way, the arrival had been delayed.

The train staff prepared a final lunch banquet as an apology, but the group politely declined.

Neti—because she was the one who stopped the train.

The Saint—because she didn’t want to run into the CIA agent.

And Yeomyeong and Seti... because they couldn’t resist Corvus’s nagging to disembark quickly.

“At this rate, I’m going to die.”

She said her organs were all twisted from keeping up the transformation spell too long, and the group got off the train with a mix of amusement and genuine concern.

Even so, Yeomyeong didn’t forget to bid farewell to Kim Mansu and Tian Lin.

—See you again sometime.

—Here, take my contact info. Call me whenever you’re in America.

Just like their lighthearted meeting, their parting was casual. And with that, Yeomyeong put a full stop on the short train journey.

As they stepped off the train and onto the platform, Corvus—now back in her raven form—was fluttering her wings.

Her voice, much more relaxed than when she was in human form, said:

“People ought to live as they were born to be.”

The whole group chuckled at the joke—except for one necromancer who, oblivious as ever, wrinkled her nose and butted in.

“...‘People’? Since when are beastkin considered people?”

What, gotten used to being a hostage these past few days? Hearing that cocky remark, Neti smacked her in the back of the head with telekinesis, as if dumbfounded.

There was some real emotion behind that hit.

Dilla clutched the back of her head and went silent. Corvus smoothed over the mood with a dry comment: “A beastkin’s more human than a damn corpse thief, don’t you think?”

Thanks to that, the atmosphere lightened even more, but Yeomyeong didn’t bother suppressing or disrupting it.

To be honest, he was a little giddy himself.

The familiarity he’d felt since arriving at the station was reminding him of one simple fact.

“Finally... I’m going back to Earth.”

There were still a few minor issues—like fake IDs and the mafia—but compared to everything they’d been through, those barely counted as problems.

Yeomyeong grabbed his suitcase and said,

“Shall we go? First, let’s find a hotel.”

“A hotel? Brother-in-law, what are you—”

Neti narrowed her eyes and trailed off. Her obvious misunderstanding was so cute that Yeomyeong gave her a light flick to the forehead.

“The Tindamel caravan’s cargo train won’t arrive until tomorrow. We’re not sleeping on the street while we wait.”

“....”

And so, with slightly buoyant steps, the group left the station.

Scarlett, who had been waiting for them at the lunch banquet like ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) a confused diner lady, arrived a little too late. Yeomyeong and his group had already vanished into the city.

****

Gemini City.

A twin city to Los Angeles beyond the dimensional gate—it was, to Yeomyeong’s eyes, the most “Earth-like” place he’d seen across dimensions.

Skyscrapers and buildings sprouting up like mushrooms, streets packed with well-paved roads and bustling cars.

Traffic lights, bus stops, even trash bins lying around in back alleys—how long had it been since he’d seen those?

Even the air smelled like a city: car exhaust, cigarettes, and the bitter aroma of coffee all blending together into that unmistakable urban scent.

If not for the massive dimensional gate flickering in the city’s western skyline, it could’ve easily passed for any major city in Korea.

The rest of the group seemed to feel the same way. There was a spring in everyone’s step.

But that awe didn’t last long. The deeper they walked into the city, the more surreal the scene became—like something only possible beyond the gate.

“I’ll do any work that pays! Just fifteen dollars! I’ll work all day for fifteen bucks!”

An orc holding a job sign, desperately looking for work.

“Mac—Call! Mac—Beer! Bar—ley bread! Grown by a dwarf himself!”

A dwarf selling food on the street.

And then... beastkin?

—We are not cannibals!

—Recognize beastkin as official subhumans! Give us the right to cross the gate!

—End discrimination at the dimensional gate! The gate belongs to everyone!

Sheep, wolves, foxes, bears, tigers—beastkin of all kinds were wrapped in red headbands, holding up placards with similar slogans and shouting them in unison.

Yeomyeong blinked at the surreal sight.

The others were just as stunned, staring blankly at the scene.

Corvus, perched on the Saint’s bag, clicked her beak—a noise that passed for a human’s awkward cough.

“They’re still doing that, huh? Must never get tired of it.”

The Saint tilted her head.

“You know about that protest?”

Corvus answered immediately, as if she’d been waiting.

“Nothing grand, really. It’s an old protest that’s been going on forever, asking for access through the dimensional gate.”

International law strictly barred entry through the gate for races deemed “unhelpful” to Earth—like beastkin and orcs.

At least orcs could cross over if they passed an ethics exam. But for beastkin, stepping foot on Earth was outright illegal—unless you were one of the few tribes relocated to Africa.

“...So they’re protesting to get to Earth?”

“To be more precise, they’re protesting to work on Earth for higher wages.”

“It's about money?”

“Not just a few bucks. The wage gap between Earth and this side is still about three to one. And that’s after it narrowed a bit in recent years.”

“...That sounds kind of unfair.”

Corvus shrugged her wings.

“What can you do? That’s economics.”

“....”

“Most humans don’t want to work alongside beastkin. So they’re pushed out of real business, and though they’re great at manual labor, there are fewer jobs and lower wages.”

“If they’re good at it, why are there fewer jobs?”

“It’s a simple concept.”

Corvus began to explain.

Take manual labor, like loading and unloading warehouse cargo.

If it took ten humans a full day to clear a warehouse, three beastkin could do it just as easily. Their physical specs even surpassed orcs.

“If they’re that efficient, shouldn’t they be paid more?”

“Aha, let me finish.”

If there were infinite jobs, maybe. But manual labor wasn’t in endless supply.

There were fewer jobs than workers. So the gate narrowed, and beastkin started competing with each other to squeeze through.

How? By undercutting wages.

A beastkin earning $10 a day would lose the job to another willing to do it for $9.

That cycle continued—$9 to $7, $7 to $5.

During economic downturns, there were beastkin willing to work for nothing but food.

The Saint, listening intently, hesitantly asked,

“Couldn’t they form a union or go on strike...?”

“There are plenty of beastkin looking for work. Strike? Another one would snatch that job instantly. And get branded a commie to boot.”

“....”

“If they don’t like it, they can always go back to the Great Plains and live like wild animals. Of course, if your neighbor gets caught eating someone, you might get executed too, just for living nearby.”

Corvus spoke as if it were someone else’s problem. Yeomyeong, impressed yet worried, asked,

“Are you okay with this? I mean... they’re your people.”

“My people?”

Corvus’s expression twisted slightly. Yeomyeong wondered if he’d said something wrong and reached out to her.

“Are they not?”

“They’re not. I don’t know how they see it, but I don’t consider them my people.”

She hopped up his arm and perched on his shoulder.

Standing atop the tallest one in the group, she had a perfect view of the crowd of beastkin.

“Look closely, my disciple. They all share one feature.”

A feature? Yeomyeong looked where Corvus pointed but didn’t notice anything special at first.

Carnivores and herbivores united in one cause...

Then suddenly, it hit him.

“...They’re all furry.”

“Exactly. You saw it right.”

“....”

“Back in the Great Plains era, the wolves and lions—who had the most power—divided the beastkin into four castes. Furred, feathered, scaled, and... bare-skinned.”

That was a story Yeomyeong had never heard before. Not in documentaries, not even in textbooks.

“These were the same bastards who used to eat each other. So when they set up a caste system, it went exactly how you'd expect. The furred beastkin put themselves at the top, and used their new hierarchy as justification to devour the others.” 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

“....”

“It was only when Earth began purging them that they held out their hands and started calling us ‘comrades.’ Some believed it. Others didn’t...”

There was a subtle undercurrent of disgust in Corvus’s voice. Reflected in her obsidian eyes were the furred ones marching in protest.

“I don’t trust the furred ones anymore.”

“....”

Yeomyeong could tell Corvus had her own reasons, but he didn’t ask.

Instead, with Corvus still perched on his shoulder, he turned to lead the group toward the nearest hotel.

He tried, anyway.

But they’d only taken a few steps before a group of wolf beastkin in suits blocked their path.

“...What is this?” Yeomyeong asked, frowning.

From among the group, a grizzled old wolf with graying fur stepped forward.

“You’re the ones who came in on the express train from the South Station, right?”

“And what if we say we’re not?” Yeomyeong replied.

“No, just being polite. We already know it’s you.”

The old wolf chuckled and gestured with his hand. The other beastkin began subtly surrounding the group.

Yeomyeong gave them a cool once-over, then looked the old wolf in the eyes.

“You planning to make threats in the middle of the city?”

“Normally, no. But that damn crow of yours just insulted the protest of our fellow kin. As their defender, I can’t let that slide.”

His clawed finger pointed at Corvus.

Without a word, Corvus leapt from Yeomyeong’s shoulder and perched atop the Saint’s bag.

To those who didn’t know her, it looked like she was scared. But in truth, she was just making it easier to draw her staff and level the place if needed.

The wolves snickered, misreading the gesture entirely.

Yeomyeong sighed. They hadn’t even met with the mafia yet, and already things were getting annoying.

“What do you want?”

Blunt. Direct. The old wolf licked his snout before answering.

“Nothing difficult. Just come with us to our hideout. I give you my word—on my honor—that you’ll be safe. Scarlett O’Hara.”

“....”

“Our boss... wants to speak with the CIA.”

This bastard... really got the wrong target. Yeomyeong shook his head.

“You’ve got the wrong person. Scarlett O’Hara? She’s still on the train. We’re a different group that got off earlier.”

“...What?”

“The train staff offered a lunch banquet. We didn’t eat, so we left early. But she probably stayed for it. So if your boss doesn’t want to get his ass kicked... you should run back to the station right now.”

Not that it'll matter—she’ll be surrounded by the Seonjuk Mercenaries anyway. Yeomyeong held back that last part and signaled the group with a glance.

Let’s go.

Neti, who’d clearly been hoping for something more exciting, couldn’t hide her disappointment. But a forehead flick from her sister quickly got her moving again.

The wolves didn’t try to stop them. They just turned to their leader, who suddenly raised his head.

“Wait.”

“What now?”

“Leave the crow.”

“....”

“Anyone who insults their fellow kin needs to face consequences.”

The moment he finished speaking, Corvus slipped a foot—no, a claw—into the bag.

She was clearly drawing mana. Preparing a high-level spell that would obliterate the area.

Yeomyeong knew this had to end with him. Clean, and quick.

He let his hand drop loosely to his side and asked the old wolf:

“Hey. What’s your name?”

“...I’ve no name to give to the likes of you.”

“Oh yeah? Then are you left-handed or right-handed?”

“Trying to stall for time with bullshit? Doesn’t matter—there’s no police comi—”

Before the wolf could finish his sentence, Yeomyeong moved.

As his shoulder tensed, his hand clenched—and from his inventory, a sword materialized.

In a single motion, he drew the blade, slashed, and returned it to the void.

No flash. No sound. Not even an afterimage.

But the result was immediate.

Thud—

In the next instant, every wolf in a suit dropped their left thumbs to the ground.

They stared in stunned silence at the fingers lying at their feet.

It wasn’t because beastkin were tougher than humans. It was because they didn’t even understand what had just happened.

What the hell just happened?

The old wolf trembled as he looked at his bleeding hand. Even though he’d been watching from the front, all he’d seen was a vague shimmer.

Then Yeomyeong lowered his hand again and spoke.

“No police, huh? Think they’ll stay away even if heads start rolling?”

A heavy silence.

The old wolf looked at Yeomyeong with wide, confused eyes. He couldn’t feel a trace of mana—how was this even possible?

Yeomyeong didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed his fingers at their throats.

“You’ve got three seconds.”

The old wolf grabbed his severed thumb and turned to run.

Suit be damned—he bolted on all fours, clearly terrified.

The group watched the wolves vanish into the distance.

Corvus clicked her beak and said,

“Disciple, you should’ve taken the whole arm. It would’ve grown back eventually.”

“....”

Yeomyeong didn’t reply.

****

Central Gemini City.

In the VIP lounge of a towering skyscraper that overlooked the main plaza, a middle-aged man gazed down at the beastkin protest.

The people below looked like specks—but he didn’t mind.

With mana infused into his eyes, the scene below was as crisp as a photograph.

“Filthy mongrels who don’t even understand the meaning of honor... The moment the old man took his hands off things... They dare...”

He ground his teeth as he watched the beastkin. Give him a gun and he looked ready to shoot them all on the spot.

Just then, a group caught his eye. They were facing off against some wolf thugs.

Four women, one man, and one massive raven beastkin.

From the luggage they carried, he figured they were tourists from Earth. Rich ones.

Their one misfortune? Getting hassled by those nosy wolf bastards.

Wrong place, wrong time, the man thought. Poor Earthlings.

He crossed his arms and watched.

If the wolves ended up hurting those humans, he could use it as justification to wipe out all the city’s beastkin.

But then...

It turned out the ones in trouble weren’t the tourists—it was the wolves.

The man with the golden eyes moved with such shocking skill that he severed dozens of thumbs with a single swing.

The technique was worthy of admiration, but that wasn’t what surprised the man most.

It was the way the sword disappeared and reappeared with just a flick of the hand.

“...Inventory?”

He stared in awe for a moment, then immediately called his assistant.

“Bring me my sword. Right now.”