The World Does Not Exist for ■■

Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: ford53
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< Chapter 19: The Inevitable Encounter of the Mob (6) >

Amidst the unconscious currents, Dung Beetle watched the approaching waves.

A wave mixed with all sorts of emotions slapped against his body and passed.

Soaked by the heavy, sorrowful, and stinging wave, he thought of a word in his mind.

Mind Without Stay or Stray

To listen distantly with the ears and forget to listen with the heart, to feel the world with an empty mind, this is the essence of ‘no mind.’

To sit quietly and cast away distractions. To forget reality and oneself, this is the essence of ‘without stay.’

‘….’

Another wave surged and once again struck Dung Beetle’s body.

In the wake of the wave, the name given to him by the Cleaner’s Guild with the intention of praising his ability to clean up the mess—Dung Beetle—was washed away.

After the next wave hit, he forgot his memories. Angels and Mignium, comrades and revenge all disappeared beyond the waves.

As his memories were swept away, his emotions vanished along with them.

Sorrow, anger, joy, regret… Only after everything was gone did his heart become completely empty.

Slap!

Into the emptied heart, only the waves rose.

Once, twice, three times…

Countless waves crashed and accumulated in his heart. They continued until all the surrounding currents disappeared.

At some point, he could no longer differentiate himself from the waves. The wave was him, and he was the wave.

‘…!’

Yes, this was the true essence of Pyangyeol.

Realizing Mind Without Stay or Stray, absorbing the waves in his heart and becoming the wave itself.

No other explanation was needed. The forms and secrets were merely superficial.

Now that he had become the wave, when he put his heart into his fist, it was imbued with the power of True Strike, the Pyangyeol Punch, and when he moved his legs, it was the Pyangyeol Step.

Having realized this, Dung Beetle trembled at the depth of Pyangyeol. He understood why Seti had seen him as a lowly creature. If he had known such martial arts, he would have thought the same.

He wrapped up his enlightenment. Closing his joy and delight, he tried to open his eyes to reality.

But at that moment, a familiar voice echoed from beyond his heart.

“Looks like you’ve learned something interesting.”

The uninvited guest sealed within his heart.

The benefactor who revived his life and bestowed talent upon him… and a tremendous evil.

“…Mignium.”

Between the spaces where the waves of the heart fluttered, the shadow of a lady in a black dress revealed itself.

“My chosen one. It took you a remarkably long time to reach the entrance with your talent. You must have found a proper martial art. It’s undoubtedly the work of a grandmaster who poured his heart into its creation.”

“…Martial art?”

“Ah, perhaps they call it by a different name in your world.”

Mignium laughed with an inscrutable noise. Over the shadowy face composed of darkness, a long crack appeared—a smile in her own way.

“Anyway, my chosen one. I did not expect to meet face to face so soon. To think you’d fall into a state of no-mind already… Is this why those insignificant gods do not bestow talent upon humans?”

“If you’re planning to spout nonsense, I’m leaving.”

Dung Beetle brushed himself off and got up. Mignium’s head tilted quizzically.

“Leaving already? You must have many things you want to ask me.”

“Would you answer if I asked?”

“No, the pleasure of questioning will be postponed for later. This is not my dream but your heart, after all.”

“…I thought as much.”

If she had intended to tell him anything, she wouldn’t have kept her mouth shut last time.

“Let’s meet in dreams next time, my chosen one.”

With Mignium’s farewell behind him, Dung Beetle closed his eyes.

His heart stirred, and his heavy consciousness rose to reality again.

***

Upon opening his eyes in reality, an unfamiliar view greeted him.

The clearing where he was witnessing Seti’s martial arts was nowhere to be seen, and what seemed like a pile of rags was obscuring his view.

Upon a closer look, it wasn’t a pile of rags but a camping tent.

‘What’s this?’

Dung Beetle brushed himself off and stepped out of the tent. Outside was the very clearing where Seti had demonstrated her martial arts.

‘Did she set up the tent for me after I fell into a state of no-mind…?’

The answer to his guess was easily found. Three carefully written notes were placed at the entrance of the tent.

Dung Beetle read the notes slowly. As expected, they were from Seti.

The first note, written with pressure, began with the fact that he hadn’t woken up for a whole day, so she pitched a tent for him.

The second note expressed her wish to wait longer, but she had to deliver the unicorn’s horn first due to her sister’s urgency.

The final note stated that she would return with a new identity within a week at the latest, suggesting they meet again at Jangman’s bar, and included a phone number.

After reading all the notes, Dung Beetle shoved them into his pocket and slumped onto the tent floor.

‘…A day has passed?’

No, that wasn’t right. Considering the time it took for her to write the notes and leave, at least two days must have passed.

‘Was the time I spent in my heart that long?’

Dung Beetle thought about the time but shook his head.

It was pointless to think about how long the inner waves had piled up within his body. After all, isn’t it natural that happy times pass quickly and difficult times drag on slowly?

What needed to be considered now was… how deeply had he mastered Pyangyeol in the state of no-mind?

With that thought, Dung Beetle brushed himself off and stood up. He stepped in front of the tent, recalling the last punch Seti had shown and assumed the stance.

The punch that he had unknowingly named Pyangyeol Punch in his subconscious.

Seti had made the mana flow like water, creating waves from her fist. But Dung Beetle needed no such preparation.

The moment he clenched his fist, the mana flowing through it surged. That was the difference between one who had realized the essence and one who had not.

But…

‘Have I not fully incorporated what I’ve realized into my body?’

Dung Beetle frowned down at his own fist. He felt the difference between the mana waves felt in his fist and those in his heart.

If he had to gauge the completeness, it was only about 30 percent or even less implemented.

He threw his fist as if to confirm, striking the air.

!!!

As soon as the mana hit the atmosphere, a wave of mana erupted, knocking down the tent and causing leaves to fall.

It was an impressive result, yet Dung Beetle sighed and flexed his fist.

As expected, he was still lacking.

Apparently, to fully implement the same waves he saw in his mind into reality, he would need a considerable amount of training and a lot of actual combat.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, there were plenty of opportunities left for him to swing his fists. Especially in Incheon.

‘Before Seti returns… I’ll settle all unfinished business in Incheon.’

His gaze, coldly settled, looked beyond the mountains, towards the cityscape of Incheon.

***

Inside a hefty van parked on the outskirts of Incheon, a man took out a cigarette and put it to his lips.

Tap, tap.

Whether due to nervousness or the lighter running low on gas, the man’s lighter wouldn’t catch.

After trying to spark the lighter half a dozen times and failing, he eventually gave up and threw the cigarette and lighter onto the floor.

“Damn it, how did I end up like this…”

He sighed and opened the van door. A suit-clad man with a pig’s head mask approached him and bowed respectfully.

“Branch Manager, what seems to be the issue?”

“Damn it, stop with that branch manager crap. Call me Agent. Agent.”

While his official position was known to be the branch manager of the Incheon Cleaners Guild, he never once considered himself such.

There are levels even among figureheads. The Cleaners Guild of all places?

It was nothing more than a front imposed upon him to conceal his true identity as a secret government agent.

“Hey, shepherd.”

“Yes, Agent?”

“I really fucking hate this city, you know.”

“Do you?”

The pig-headed suit received the branch manager’s frustrations with a soulless voice. The branch manager wasn’t always such an insufferable boss. It’s just that the events of the past few days were enough to turn anyone into a nasty superior.

“Everything is named after MacArthur here—the streets, the mountains, even the markets… Even the street shamans worship MacArthur as a spirit. Damn it, is this America or Korea?”

“…”

“Dr. Ahn Jung-geun, a national hero, doesn’t even have a statue, but here we have MacArthur Park? Is it such a proud moment that MacArthur governed here through divine right?”

“…I’m not sure myself.”

“Of course, you’re not sure, damn it. If you knew, would you be a shepherd? You’d be a sociologist.”

Spit!

He spat on the ground and tried to recall why things had become so tangled.

It all started with the workshop manager’s disappearance. Truthfully, the manager had been a rather competent subordinate.

He had done his job quietly enough not to annoy the fake branch manager and completed his tasks efficiently.

But everything started to go awry when he suddenly went missing, and the government’s body warehouse he managed burned down.

First, the deal with the necromancer fell through.

Although the details of the incident were uncertain, the outcome was disastrous. A fourth-class civil servant sent to negotiate with the necromancer died, and the potion of awakening couldn’t be recovered.

By the time the Superhuman Division, desperate for the potion, dispatched people to the scene, everything was already over.

The only things left at the scene were broken potion bottles and traces of a fight involving an unidentified Korean agent and the necromancer.

That alone would have been enough to make one’s head explode, but then another problem erupted.

The agents investigating the scene all vanished, not a single one left.

It wasn’t a matter that could be simply overlooked this time. Three shepherds, including a high-ranking official known as the ‘bullhead,’ were brutally murdered.

While it’s true they couldn’t match a real superhuman or wizard, two pig-heads and one bullhead could at least have fled safely from a fight with a real superhuman.

But all three died? The answer was simple: the adversary was such a high-level superhuman that they didn’t even have a chance to escape.

By then, the government began to step back. They suspected that another major power or an unidentified superhuman organization might have been involved in the case.

However, they couldn’t immediately withdraw from the scene. There were matters of pride, and the morale of the field personnel was at stake.

In the end, the government threw in a reasonable pinch hitter… or rather, a scapegoat, and washed their hands of the case.

And that scapegoat turned out to be the branch manager himself.

It wasn’t for any significant reason. He was simply the highest-ranked agent sent to the scene.

Even knowing all the circumstances, nobody would be happy to be chosen as a scapegoat.

Especially for him, who had been managing the enrollment of young superhumans just a week ago, his sudden downfall felt all the more miserable.

“Damn it, why aren’t the others showing up?”

As the agent vented his frustration once more, a pig-headed suit standing by the van quietly took out a phone.

“There are 15 minutes left until the appointment time. They’ll arrive if you wait a bit.”

“Damn it, the kids on the field these days, none of them know how to be on time. Who arrives right on the dot when the boss is waiting?”

“…”

“When I was their age, we’d arrive 10 minutes early and wait… Sigh, call them.”

“But due to security reasons, we shouldn’t make calls…”

“Damn it, just do it if I tell you to!”

“…Yes, understood.”

Reluctantly, the pig-headed suit dialed someone. Beep, beep, beep. The standard ringtone played, and the other party picked up.

[Wh-Who is this?］

The voice came through with so much noise it was hard to hear.

[Cuckoo 11 here. I’m checking in to see where you are.］

[Can’t… hear you well. Cuckoo 11… right?］

[Cuckoo 11, I say again. Where are you? We’re waiting at the meeting place.］

[Sorry… I’m… lost…］

As soon as the voice said they were lost, the branch manager snatched the phone from the pig-headed suit.

“Hey, you idiot, we’re on MacArthur’s 3rd Road at the bridge leading to National Highway 6! Where else is there to get lost?”

[….］

“Stop bullshitting and get here within 15 minutes. Got it?”

[MacArthur…3rd…Highway 6…bridge. I’ll head right there…］

The moment he heard the reply, the branch manager felt something off.

What is it? Is it because I can’t smoke?

He shook off the uncomfortable feeling and called other subordinates, urging them to hurry.

After about five minutes of hounding his subordinates, a car approached the van from the distance.

“Finally, one bastard shows up.”

It was a familiar car. One of the vehicles rented for this mission.

But as the car drew closer, the branch manager’s brows furrowed.

Something was off about the approaching car… Blood was smeared on the windshield, and parts of the car were dented and flapping about. And, most importantly…

It wasn’t slowing down.

“Damn it, get out of the way!”

The branch manager was the first to leap out of the van. The pig-headed suit who had been receiving his complaints couldn’t escape and was caught directly between the car and the van.

Boom!

Both the car and the van were lifted into the air and rolled off the bridge.

Barely alive, the branch manager propped himself up on shaky legs and pulled out a handgun from his waist.

“Damn it, what the…”

He peeked his head out cautiously to survey below the highway. The van that had tumbled down looked like a crushed egg.

Fortunately, not everyone in the van was dead. A few shepherds were poking their heads out from the debris.

And from the car right next to the van… there was no sign of a body or even a shadow.

There had definitely been someone in the car before the collision, right?

Feeling a cold gaze at the nape of his neck, the branch manager tightened his grip on the gun and slowly turned his head.

There stood a young man wearing an old jacket and a hat pulled down firmly over his eyes.

“Who are you?”

The young man casually lifted his hat to check the branch manager’s face and spoke with a light tone.

“It’s been a while, Branch Manager.”

“Damn… that goddamn branch manager.”

Without a second thought, the branch manager fired his gun.

Bang! Bang!

The gun spewed fire, but the young man sidestepped with a slight movement of his upper body, dodging the bullets.

Superhuman reflexes and movements. Literally, he was definitely a superhuman.

“I’m screwed.”

The branch manager alternated his glance between the approaching young man and below the highway.

The height was roughly 5 meters. He made a quick decision. It was better to break a leg than to be caught by a superhuman.

He swallowed his spit and shouted down below.

“I’m jumping! Catch me!”

One of the shepherds lifted his head, and the branch manager immediately jumped off the bridge.

Thump!

Thankfully, one of the pig-heads managed to catch his body. But he couldn’t relax; the superhuman guy had also jumped down behind him.

“Kill him! That guy is the culprit behind this incident!”

The branch manager screamed furiously. Without any evidence, the pig-heads emerging from the van immediately charged at the man.

Whack!

The healthiest three attacked at once. The leading pig-head leaped, and the two behind opened their mouths wide.

A curse-laden voice filled with mana burst out of the pig-head.

The descending fist of the leaping guy dropped where the curse struck. It was a perfect combo attack.

“Tch.”

The unidentified superhuman didn’t dodge the attack. Instead, he clicked his tongue and thrust out his fist.

Was he preparing to take the hit? But it was clear which would be more powerful: a punch coming down with a leap or a hand just stretched out.

However…

The moment the superhuman extended his fist, something changed.

The branch manager, who couldn’t sense mana, didn’t notice, but the shepherds, who could sense mana faintly, did.

They were terrified by the mana rippling from the fist, but it was too late to retract the punch.

Fist met fist.

Crunch!

One fist shattered completely.

“Argh!”

The broken hand belonged to the pig-headed shepherd. He struggled to get away from the superhuman, but the superhuman didn’t give him a chance.

He immediately raised his left hand and struck the shepherd’s head. Something broke, and blood poured out of the pig-head’s eyes, nose, and mouth.

It was instant death.