Chapter 185
Chapter 185
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 185
Chapter Title: Lee Do-won (5)
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One by one.
As I wandered around the area, several people popped out and began surrounding me.
"......"
The mana around here felt strangely hazy, and there were quite a few people, so I'd only been at the suspicion stage.
But now that they'd come out directly like this, could I even say I was grateful?
Instead of stepping back, I advanced even further forward.
There were storage containers scattered in dozens of places. I had no idea what was inside, but there were massive trucks used for loading and unloading.
Their gazes pierced my skin, filled with pure hostility.
-Thud, thud.
I walked deeper into the area.
The eyes of those closing in from all sides gradually changed, and my attention zeroed in on their pockets.
The fluctuating nature of their mana was a form I hadn't seen much before.
It flowed steadily in one direction like muddy water, but there were awkward shakes mixed in.
It was the strange mana only seen in Flower members.
-Thud.
I kept walking until I stood right in the center of them.
Flower men hiding against the walls around me or openly staring me down.
One might expect them to ask who I was, or pretend to be normal and tell me to leave, but they showed no sign of it.
Not that it would have made a difference—I'd have killed them anyway.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than one man stepped out from a container.
A young man with a sturdy-looking face.
But his eyes lacked vitality, and there was a faint smell of smoked cigarettes.
I walked toward the door he'd come from.
Our distance closed until I could reach him with a single hand extended.
"...Who are you? Heuk—Gulp!"
The moment the man opened his mouth—
I grabbed his face and shoved him back, entering the container and slamming the door shut.
Seeing the robed people standing inside, a savage smile crept across my lips.
"There's a lot of you."
-Boom!
I hurled the man against the opposite wall of the container.
A loud crash echoed, and the man who'd slammed into it crumpled with a caved-in skull, eyes rolled back, convulsing before sliding down the wall.
-Screech, thud!
The rough sound of the door slamming rang out like lightning.
I dropped the door handle from my hand and tossed it silently in front of them.
-Clunk, grrr.
The handle, marked with handprints where it'd been wrenched off, spun and came to a stop.
-Creeeak.
The door, its hinges torn away, swung open.
-Thud!
The moment the wrecked door hit the ground, wariness etched itself onto the faces of the robed people.
"Flower."
A panoramic vision of the future flickered at the edge of my sight.
Congealed blood. Cold skin. Eyelashes falling out one by one.
A phonebook that had vanished for some reason.
The lingering affectionate texts from the future me: Please get in touch. The last message sent to my master.
Her face, frozen in a smile, made it hard to even tell if she was dead.
"Is it you?"
Drip, drip.
It felt like I could hear the veins in my eyes bursting.
My coldly sunken mind, as if prepared for this moment, slowly revved up my heart.
Thump thump thump. The heartbeat roared noisily in my ears.
The tinnitus from the funeral flashed through my mind.
A gruff emotion caught in my throat before bursting out uncontrollably.
"Right?"
I kicked one of the scattered wooden planks.
It spun through the air and landed perfectly in my hand.
-Ssshh.
Flower operatives in my midst gripped swords and short wands, pulling them from their clothes.
Aiming them at me as if they were lifelines.
Yet none dared charge.
They only watched my face, gauging me.
"......"
There were no words around us.
No one asked who I was. We simply recognized each other as enemies.
-Tremble tremble.
One man's blade shook visibly before my eyes. It looked utterly ridiculous.
'You guys are human after all.'
Yeah.
Even scum like these had families. Siblings. Parents who'd raised them with love, no matter what.
Even orphans might have friendships. They might have dreamed of happiness through love or something similar, however briefly.
That's life.
Even those joining the worst terrorists were no different.
I knew it.
My father had shown that face.
When the stories first started circulating in online articles and newspapers.
-Thud.
I took one step forward.
All the robed people advanced toward me.
In my expanding field of vision, their faces looked so utterly ordinary.
Twisted with raw murderous intent that blended naturally into their averageness.
-Thud.
One step.
-Slash!
I brought the plank down.
Blood sprayed across the window like haphazard flower petals without pattern.
People collapsed like marionettes with cut strings.
Arms and legs twisted backward, dead right where they'd stood.
I stepped into the shadows.
I opened my eyes in a blood-soaked deep sea.
The terror just before surfacing from a dive.
But once you break the surface, it doesn't hurt that much.
That was the perfect metaphor for the feeling of tasting society's underbelly.
Normally, I'd adapt slowly, but I'd already committed dozens of murders under the Heavenly Demon.
I tossed the plank to the container floor.
-Boom!
The floor dented as the plank shattered into pieces.
I shoved the boiling emotion deep into my chest and walked out through the broken door.
The wind felt surprisingly cool.
As my feet left the container, my body vibrated lightly.
The commotion inside hadn't taken long.
-Click.
A silenced pistol and a sword crusted with dried blood pointed at me once more, without fail.
Despite knowing the dire situation, not one fled.
For criminals, their mental fortitude deserved applause.
They'd probably been rigorously trained.
...Or Flower had them firmly under control. One or the other.
"Who are you?"
One man spoke.
"What does it matter if you know?"
I sneered at his question.
"......"
I wasn't dumb enough to go around announcing my name.
"Flower?"
Instead, I threw the same question back at him.
"......"
The man remained silent.
Maybe he'd left a recorder running. Not a bad idea.
If they denied being Flower, I'd just be a murderer. Easy to spin in the media.
Mass murder in a factory. Dozens of bodies found, shock ensues.
Of course they'd hunt the culprit, and a normal person would get caught right away.
I stepped toward the man with burn scars on his face.
Once again, a gunshot rang out from him.
-Bang!
The crack of gunpowder and a grunt from the shooter.
The glowing red barrel.
A line slashed through the space.
In the sunlit factory district, a human-shaped shadow was bisected. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "......So?"
"Died in consecutive explosions. That's how it was reported."
A robed man delivered the information calmly.
Explosion incident. Mana traces mixed with mana processing had burned the area barren, not a blade of grass left.
The human and property losses stung badly.
"I see."
The man with a circular pattern etched around his nose twisted his rotten face.
"Heard it was just one guy...... Skilled bastard."
The terror method used by Flower.
In other words, similar mana residue to the explosion from the Ent incident before.
Someone had forcibly replicated that explosion.
The police naturally linked it to the prior event upon seeing the mana traces.
And concluded it was Flower terrorism.
"Kekeke. Us setting fire to our own rice bowl?"
Cistus. Third Leaf's sub-executive.
Livestock manager Tuberose.
He stroked his heated head and tossed documents at the man before him.
"......Yeah. Money's rotting away anyway. Mana processing isn't exclusive to that place."
A few percent of the world's capital flowed into Flower without issue—what was a factory fire?
But getting wiped out without laying a hand on a single enemy? Hard to swallow, even in sleep.
Tuberose ground his teeth, approached the man, and shoved his shoulder.
-Boom!
The man flew limply into the wall.
"Guh, kuhk."
"Be more careful next time. Handle it yourself. If our reputation gets dirtied again...... I might have to step in."
"Y-yes, understood."
Tuberose rubbed the back of his neck and left the office, heading underground.
Unlocking the iron door with a key, a thick floral scent hit his nose, drawing a lustful smile.
"If one moneybag disappears, we just make more here."
Numerous female Wood People shackled in iron cuffs, locked away and unconscious.
Each had a flower blooming on their head.
Tuberose grabbed two vials from a nearby desk and approached one woman.
Red hair shimmering. A single apple tree.
"Aigoo...... Used up a ton. Told those bastards not to overuse since it drops the merchandise value."
He drew the first drug into a syringe, shook out the air bubbles.
"Mm, yeah. Been waiting?"
He injected the syringe, pumping in the drug.
At that instant, flowers burst forth from the apple tree Wood Person's head.
Injecting the other drug made fruits grow on her head.
The only way to pluck flowers and fruits she'd never bloom in a lifetime, over and over.
The flowers and fruits of female Wood People held immense value in themselves.
Rumors said they enhanced talents. Just brewing and drinking the flowers was good for health.
Reason why the rich paid top dollar.
'Weird bitches. Started with simple drugs, now they seek happiness and lock themselves up willingly.'
Injecting drugs continuously, Tuberose cast a cold gaze downward.
All the Wood People here had once been treated like nobility.
Now, they were among society's discarded dregs. Their classification was simple.
Wood People stripped of noble status by World Tree decree.
Or those ruined in fierce family feuds, sent here.
Women caught abusing young boys, escaping only to hide in the shadows and get recaptured.
All started as 'customers' escaping reality, then came back as 'merchandise' on their own...... Money incarnate.
Plenty of pathetic, bug-like women.
Tuberose was the left hand of Cistus, the executive managing this livestock pen.
"Tuberose."
"......Do you always appear so suddenly?"
A child's cold voice pierced from behind Tuberose.
"Heard something happened this time."
"Yes."
The young girl's face, fragile enough to snap in his hands, exuded an intimidating pressure hard to behold.
Even this was one of Cistus's clones.
No subordinate of Cistus had ever seen his true body.
Hence the creepy rumors.
That he hid his true self among clones, executing the slothful on the spot.
Tuberose smiled awkwardly.
"You know what I'm going to say, right?"
"......Yes."
"Prepare sacrifices for new clones."
Sacrifices for clones.
Ten young children.
No matter how trashy, Tuberose had his limits.
Seeing kidnapped kids' crying faces soured his mood.
These livestock chose to ruin their lives with drugs for escape.
But kids were mostly snatched from slums.
Or from prostitutes.
"And—if things go wrong, you move personally."
The third-ranked executive's direct subordinate moving would declare war on the Hunter Association.
Knowing that, Cistus still demanded it.
A belligerent executive.
That's why he liked it.
This man was the first to use him, who only knew drug production and brothels.
"Yes."
Tuberose nodded firmly.
Eyes filled with madness and unyielding conviction.