Worse Than Beasts

Humans are animals who, unlike ordinary beasts, possess both reason and intellect.

They carry morality and conscience, and can distinguish good from evil.

And yet—

They are also capable of becoming more savage and barbaric than any other creature alive.

When they decide that no one else's gaze matters. When they come to believe they hold power superior to everyone around them. When they realize that no chain in existence can hold them—

That is when humans bare their true nature.

Of course, not everyone does. Most people still cling to human dignity, keep their reason intact, and conduct themselves as thinking beings.

But a few are different.

And the trouble always started with those few.

"Goddammit, shoot! Just shoot them!"

Ratatatatatat-!

Bullets poured down like hail. A dozen-odd police officers and a SWAT team emptied everything they had.

It made no difference.

"Mark! Fuck, Mark's down!"

"We need a medic!"

Four men were already dead—all because of those damn players.

The three of them had walked out of the Tower and gone straight for a bank. They stopped bullets with transparent barriers, hurled fire that set off explosions, and somehow sensed every stealth approach the SWAT team tried as if they had eyes in the back of their heads.

So the police were getting crushed by a mere three bank robbers.

And it wasn't only here. Three incidents in the United States alone. Nearly twenty worldwide if you counted everything. The absolute numbers weren't enormous—but there was no good way to stop them.

Players stood so far beyond ordinary human capability that no one could find a proper response. Arrest was out of the question; even killing them wasn't easy.

Overwhelming firepower could theoretically do it, but—

"Lethal force is absolutely forbidden!"

Orders from above.

"You crazy son of a bitch! We're all going to die out here!"

The men on the ground protested, but the order stood. The reasoning was simple: players climbed the Tower to keep the world from ending. If their numbers thinned in the real world, climbing the Tower would only get harder.

It was nonsense—but an order was an order.

"They want us to try talking them down instead! Tell them we won't press charges for the crimes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if they just stop resisting and surrender…"

"Does that sound like it makes any sense?!"

Police officers were dying right now. And they were supposed to promise no punishment and ask for a nice peaceful surrender? Had anyone even thought about the fallout?

If they neither arrested nor killed these people here, player crime would explode. No—it was guaranteed to explode. This godforsaken country worked that way.

The on-site commander was grinding his teeth, staring at the burning bank, when two unhurried voices drifted up from behind him.

"Look at those idiots. Still at it even out here."

"Right? They kept causing trouble inside the Tower, and now they've finally blown it this big."

The commander spun around, startled.

"Get back! Can't you see there's gunfire everywhere?!"

Civilians. A completely ordinary-looking man and woman, dressed like they'd just stepped out for a neighborhood stroll. They even had ice cream cones in their hands, watching the scene with open interest.

"They're not going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to stop that, are they?"

"Probably not. Trash as they are, their skills and traits were decent enough."

"What a mess."

"What do you think you're doing?"

The commander scowled, caught between disbelief and irritation. Civilians were still people he was supposed to protect. Like them or not, he had to get them clear.

"Come with me. It's dangerous here, so—"

"Want us to give you a hand?"

He reached toward the couple—only for the woman to slip past his hand as if it were nothing.

"Do we have to? We're on vacation."

The man didn't sound eager either.

"But if it stays this loud, we won't be able to enjoy ourselves."

"True enough."

"And AETHER already sent a cooperation request this morning. They'd probably be thrilled if we bagged these guys."

"Hmm."

The man thought it over for a second, then nodded.

"Fine. Let's finish this quick and get back to the vacation. We've only got three days left."

"W-wait—!"

The commander blinked and stretched out a hand—but they vanished with a soft whoosh, like a mirage.

Heart hammering, he swept the area. And there they were: the same two people who had been standing in front of him a heartbeat ago, now already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the bank entrance.

They subdued the three players in an instant.

He never saw how. Whatever they did simply exceeded the limits of his perception. Between one blink and the next, it was over.

The couple planted their feet on the backs of the unconscious criminals and calmly licked their ice cream.

"We cleaned up a nuisance for them. Think we can ask for a little more money?"

"Of course. They'll probably give us whatever we want."

"I still don't get why these idiots chose the hard way when there's an easy one."

The man clicked his tongue and put weight into his heel.

Crunch!

The sound of a spine shattering was sickeningly clear.

"Just as you said before, incidents caused by players who have come outside never seem to stop these days."

Lee Ki-seok left the warehouse, arrived at a research lab, and settled into a chair as he spoke.

"If it weren't for you, we would have had a hard time responding at all."

SID.

Roughly translated as the Special Irregularity Department, the organization had been born entirely from Yujin's words. Broadly speaking, its role was to support everything players needed to climb the Tower. On a smaller scale—

"Fortunately, no major crimes have broken out in our country."

—to stop players from committing crimes. Those two purposes were why SID had been founded.

"Countries like the United States must be in serious trouble."

"As it happens, we've already received reports of considerable damage. I hear they've started forming organizations similar to ours to respond."

"They would've benchmarked this place. With their intelligence networks, there's no way they wouldn't know about SID."

"We think the same."

Lee Ki-seok nodded and continued.

"Apparently they've gone as far as hiring players, promising them all sorts of benefits, and using them to restrain the worst actors among their kind."

"That's the easy way, sure."

It had been the same in the first round. Not just the United States—the whole world. Korea too. The name had been a little different back then, as he recalled.

"But we've chosen a somewhat different method."

Lee Ki-seok opened a safe set into one wall of the lab and drew something out. A faint spark of energy returned to his thoroughly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exhausted face.

"This is thanks to you as well."

A sheaf of paper—maybe a hundred sheets. With a small smile, he lifted one of them.

"Binding [E]."

Fwaaaaaash—!

The paper dissolved into light and reformed as a single thick rope. The luminous strand shot forward in a flash and bound Yujin's body tight—literally activating the skill Binding [E].

"Oh. You've already made scrolls like that?"

Even Yujin, who was rarely surprised by anything, let his eyes widen a fraction. The speed far outstripped his expectations.

"Indeed. We have produced a total of one hundred five scrolls of comparable quality."

That was not all Lee Ki-seok had brought out.

Shhhrrring—.

A single blade. A straight sword forged as one continuous piece from tip to hilt.

"A blade made of carbon nanotubes. Modern technology alone can't achieve this level of finish yet, but we managed it through item combination."

"Whoa…"

It looked cool. A little sci-fi, even. Strength and cutting power both seemed excellent.

Yujin flexed just enough force to tear the Binding [E] ropes off himself, then reached for the straight sword.

"Mm."

Lee Ki-seok's eye twitched at the sight, but Yujin paid it no mind.

"Pretty solid."

He flicked the edge with a finger as he spoke.

"One of our more confident pieces, I must say."

The look on Lee Ki-seok's face was the look of a man whose child had just been praised.

"Still a long way to go, though."

By item grade, even a generous reading wouldn't put it past D-grade. On the higher floors, it would struggle to cut the hide of a single ordinary monster. On the lower floors the story was a little different, but still—

"Can the others take this inside with them?"

The raw materials themselves were real-world goods, so it should have been impossible—but the form was structured as an item. That might make it viable.

"As it happens, a player is returning tomorrow. I intend to run an experiment."

"Ah, is that so?"

Yujin nodded. On the lower floors—especially at the point most players currently occupied—something like this would still be useful. The majority of them didn't even have a proper weapon. One of these in hand would raise their odds of survival.

"And this."

Last of all, Lee Ki-seok produced a syringe-like device.

"We call it a Burster."

"What's the effect?"

"It restores non-critical injuries."

"Oh?"

A recovery item, then. Yujin's party had Vivian, so they didn't desperately need something like this—but other players were another story. At this point in time, the number of players with healing skills could be counted on one hand. Even for Yujin it could be useful in an emergency—if Vivian went bankrupt, for instance.

"I really like this one."

"The effect isn't particularly outstanding yet. Further research is still required."

"Even so, this is fine. How many did you make?"

"Materials were short, so only five in total."

Material shortages. Lee Ki-seok and SID depended on Yujin for nearly all of their supply. Other players never even thought of stockpiling enough to bring out with them.

But that didn't matter.

"I've got plenty of materials."

Yujin picked up Chunbae and shook the little thing upside down.

"Kkyaaaaaaang—!"

Material items poured out of its mouth in a cascade—several times the volume of before. Lee Ki-seok's expression brightened at once.

"Please make everything you can with these. Especially that Burster—or Burstah, whatever it's called. Prioritize those, then the scrolls."

"Understood."

The carbon-nanotube weapon was tempting, but the other two would do more good.

"Shall I give them to you?"

"No. First find every player who's out on leave and distribute them. They're still pathetically weak, so this kind of help will be desperate for them."

"I'll see to it."

"Ah—and tell the other countries as well."

"…Is that all right?"

Everything SID had produced was classified to the extreme. Even within the Republic of Korea, almost no one knew about it. Yujin didn't care.

"Once the Tower appeared, nations and governments stopped meaning much. We all have to work together."

"Mm."

Lee Ki-seok considered for a moment, then nodded. It wasn't wrong. The world might end—hoarding information here wouldn't help anyone. Convincing the people above him was another matter, of course.

"By the way, how many players have come out in Korea?"

"Excluding your group, we have confirmed seven so far."