There Is No World For ■■

"Why bother turning iron into gold? Doesn’t iron kill enemies better than gold?"

—Excerpt from a letter Stalin sent to the Nine Peaks, 11 days before the Soviet-Dwarf War began

Despite Siri's sudden entrance, she did not oppose or attempt to alter Seti's plan. In fact, it seemed that her earlier skepticism about Yeomyeong's value had been a ruse; instead, she actively endorsed Seti’s strategy.

"To put it bluntly, Sis’s plan all hinges on how famous you can get, Yeomyeong."

Fame.

To get the major figures in the Korean government to come to him, Yeomyeong needed to acquire a great deal of fame. But the question was how.

Yeomyeong looked quizzically at Seti, and she provided a straightforward answer.

“All you need to do is gradually reveal your talents in places that attract public attention, and the fame will follow.”

“Places that attract attention?”

“Academies, dimensional gates, conflict zones... Wherever there are superhumans, that’s where people are looking.”

After the dimensional gates opened, humanity's fascination with superhumans had only grown. Superhumans had become tools of propaganda from the very beginning.

Heroes of the people, proof of America’s divine favor, real-life Supermen, symbols of progress...

The Soviet Union may have fallen, and the Cold War may have ended, but superhumans were still revered and treated in the same way.

“There’s no need to overthink it. The public's obsession with superhumans is essentially the same as their obsession with celebrities.”

Yeomyeong immediately grasped her point. Books, newspapers, broadcasts...

Media outlets devoted themselves to covering every move of superhumans. Bookstores were filled with novels and comics about them, and dramas set in superhuman academies dominated TV ratings.

Financial papers critiqued the role of mercenary superhumans in swaying global oil prices, while academia explored the influence of classical philosophy on superhuman martial arts.

However, this was all a cultural phenomenon. Real information, like the essence of martial arts or magic spells, remained hidden from the public.

Even Yeomyeong, who had consumed numerous documentaries and comics, barely understood true martial arts.

“...I get the general idea. So, what should I do next?”

Seti promptly presented five documents.

An academy admission application, an acceptance letter, and three bounty posters.

“The choice is yours, Yeomyeong.”

He inspected each one, noticing that the names and dates on each document were all different.

‘So, she prepared all of this the day we left Incheon?’

After marveling at Seti's efficiency, Yeomyeong turned his attention to the acceptance letter.

It was from a PMC—a private military company. Specifically, Seonjook Mercenary Corps, which operated in areas like Manchuria and Kaesong, dealing with monster extermination and security services.

Even back when he was a janitor, Yeomyeong had heard of this mid-sized mercenary group.

‘They’re not the type to hand out acceptance letters so easily in just a few days...’

Studying the letter, he asked bluntly,

“...How did you pull this off?”

“Sorry?”

“The mercenary acceptance letter. It doesn’t seem like something one could get so easily.”

Before Seti could respond, Siri cut in.

“My sister spent a little money.”

“...Siri.”

“Honestly, she probably didn’t spend that much on the mercenary gig. Mercenary corps like that are losing people daily; it’s not that hard to slip a new recruit through the ranks.”

“....”

“But the academy application? Now that’s a different story. I bet she shelled out a small fortune for that.”

Siri pointed at the academy application with a grin. Yeomyeong looked over the document carefully. At the bottom, a note caught his eye: “Transfer admission into the second semester of the first year.”

“Second semester... so half a year from now.”

“I’m sorry. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t arrange for earlier admission...”

Seti looked downcast, and Siri chimed in beside her.

“With the semester about to start, how could they take someone in now? This isn’t a regular high school, you know. Security’s been tight ever since that terror attack last month.”

Yeomyeong nodded. It was understandable.

Unlike the academy portrayed on TV, a real superhuman academy functioned almost like a military base. In fact, it was impressive that Seti managed to secure an admission application under these circumstances.

‘...Perhaps I should have accepted the recommendation from the Holy Sword?’

He considered this briefly before dismissing the thought.

He wasn’t aiming to enter the academy for education but for revenge. If he were to commit murder after getting in on a recommendation, it would bring the wrath of the Holy Sword and the Australian government.

He didn’t need to make more enemies when he already had plenty.

Turning his attention to the three bounty posters, he saw they each featured a superhuman or a mana-wielding criminal. A murderer who killed with magic, a lunatic who fed people to monsters, and an escaped necromancer.

Meticulous notes, likely penned by Seti, outlined their recent whereabouts and favored spells.

As soon as Yeomyeong put the posters back on the table, Seti began explaining each option’s merits.

Joining the mercenary corps for field experience, capturing wanted criminals with livestreamers in tow...

Once she finished, Yeomyeong turned to Siri.

“Siri, when exactly is the academy entrance ceremony?”

“Didn’t my sister tell you? It’s in three days. It should have been two weeks ago, but it was postponed because of last month’s terror attack.”

“...Three days, huh?”

“The students have been stuck waiting in the dorms without an entrance ceremony. That’s why we’re able to move around under the radar without the government breathing down our necks.”

“If that’s the case...”

Yeomyeong thought back to the conversation he’d had with Seti at Pier 13. She’d introduced herself as a “special admit to Road Howe Academy.”

“Then we should leave today or tomorrow.”

Seti didn’t deny it.

“Yes, you’re right. My sister and I will have to return to the academy soon. But... this isn’t goodbye forever, you know?”

“....”

“You have my contact info, right? Even while I’m at the academy, we can still keep in touch, and on weekends I’ll be able to—”

Yeomyeong and Siri both looked at her intently as she rambled. Under their gazes, Seti stumbled over her words and clammed up.

“Sis, Road Howe Academy is in Australia. How are you planning to meet him every weekend? Fly out Saturday, stay one night, and head back Sunday? Even married couples don’t meet that way.”

“....”

“Just be honest. We’re both government puppets. We can’t fight alongside him or even stay close. The best we can do is offer indirect support like connections or money.”

“...Shut up, Siri.”

Seti glared at Siri, who, rather than being intimidated, exaggeratedly rose from the table and quickly ducked behind Yeomyeong.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m wrong. I bet he already knew anyway.”

“...I just didn’t expect us to part so soon.”

“Oh, really? Well, that’s Sis’s fault for not telling you sooner.”

Finally, Seti shot to her feet, chasing after Siri.

Yeomyeong watched them chase each other around the room for a moment before addressing Seti.

“Seti, you said I could choose any of these documents, right?”

“Yes, of course. You can pick whichever you want.”

As soon as she answered, just as she was about to grab Siri, Yeomyeong picked up all five documents. Siri cocked her head in confusion, while Seti’s eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me... you’re going to do everything?”

“Why choose just one? Half a year is plenty of time. I can gain field experience with the mercenaries, catch all the wanted criminals, and then enter the academy.”

Realizing his intent, Siri let out a hearty laugh.

“Ha, that’s right! Why pick one when you can do it all?”

Seti looked between Siri and Yeomyeong, then nodded, as if reaching a decision.

“If that’s what you’ve decided, Yeomyeong, I’ll do whatever I can to support you.”

“Elder.”

Jang-man turned from watching the sea at the sound of his name.

Once known as Dung Beetle, now Cheon Yeomyeong, the boy approached him.

“Did the conversation end well?”

“Yes, I’m sticking to the original plan.”

“...So you’ll be leaving this city. When?”

“I’m leaving now. I came to say goodbye.”

“Is that so? Then there’s no need to delay any further.”

Jang-man didn’t ask where Yeomyeong was going. Where he would fight and with whom was none of his business.

But, as old men often do, he thought he could offer some small token of support.

He retrieved a large case he had stashed between the alley walls—a suitcase larger than his torso.

“Elder, what’s this?”

“Open it.”

Yeomyeong obeyed, clicking open the lock. When he saw the contents, he looked back at Jang-man in surprise.

“Your friend Seti told me you’d used up all the weapons from last time.”

Inside the case were replacements for the weapons he’d purchased from the black market: another Remington MH750, ammunition, and grenades, all neatly arranged.

“A man shouldn’t embark on a journey empty-handed.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

“No need to thank me. I’m giving this to you of my own accord, so just take it. Also...”

Jang-man produced another item wrapped in cloth: the imperial knight’s sword Yeomyeong had bought and stashed beneath the bar.

“You left this behind. I thought of throwing it out but decided to keep it.”

“....”

“There’s no need to tell me why you bought a sword you’ll never use.”

Yeomyeong took the sword in hand. Looking at the weapon, identical to the one the player had used to kill his foreman and comrades, filled him with a cold resolve.

Jang-man, observing his quiet contemplation, spoke again.

“Yeomyeong.”

“Yes, Elder?”

“May I offer you a few last pieces of advice?”

“...I’m listening.”

Jang-man lifted his gaze to the overcast sky.

“When you leave this city, trust no one. Suspect everyone, no matter who they are. You may gain nothing from relationships that way, but you’ll lose nothing either.”

“....”

“And... if you decide to kill, do it without hesitation. Kill first and ask questions later.”

With a sigh, he admitted his advice wasn’t wise or virtuous. It was the advice of a filthy black-market smuggler.

Had their relationship been more normal, he’d never have offered such words.

“...I doubt your foreman ever told you this. He may have cleaned up filth, but he was the furthest thing from it.”

Jang-man brushed his hair back, then looked Yeomyeong in the eyes.

“When it’s all over, let’s visit his grave together.”

“...Yes, I’ll do that.”

There was no need for further conversation. They both understood that goodbyes should be brief.

Yeomyeong picked up his case and sword, bowed deeply, and turned to leave the alley.

As clouds drifted across the sky, the smuggler and the janitor parted ways.