Rascal Baengnae
We had gathered all sorts of information. At first, we only meant to find clues about the market that was our quest target, but the more we learned, the more questions kept piling up. Let me give a few examples.
First, the dwarfs here lived in a rigid class society. The highest class was the priests. Ironically, despite being called dwarfs, they averaged over two meters in height. Yet there were no priests in the city. According to the guest dwarf, those of such lofty status never lived in places like cities. I found that piece of information very strange.
After Stage 4, dwarfs had stopped appearing altogether. Even according to Han Yua in Stage 7, it didn't seem like dwarfs inhabited that server either. And yet, information about higher-ranking dwarfs was described in great detail. Was this just some elaborate world-building? If the entire structure was meant to mimic a game, would they really flesh out nonexistent mobs this thoroughly?
'Well, moving on…'
After the priests came the ruler class. They were further divided into territorial rulers, domain rulers, and district rulers. The market, Altos—the target we needed to eliminate—was a domain ruler-class dwarf. In other words, this city corresponded to what the dwarfs called an "area" in scale. That raised the same question as before. If a city was the size of a domain, then a territorial ruler would govern something on the scale of a nation. Even if they provided details about higher-tier mobs, why go so far as to define land-based governance and its classifications? Compared to Stages 1, 2, and 3, this was excessively meticulous and precise. It was like a defense game suddenly turning into a simulation game.
Still, the setting itself could be explained away. Game details were up to the developers, after all. It was possible that the Stage 3 boss had simply ended up with a perverted one. But the real question was the existence of the "human breeding farm."
As the advertisements had shown, this city operated under the premise that human flesh was real. Of course, that could just be flavor text. But the dwarfs spoke as if human flesh actually existed. In fact, it was considered a high-grade product. It was common knowledge that high-tier buffs almost always required human flesh as an ingredient. In a world where human flesh was this commonplace, the breeding farm—due to the reasons above—was classified as a top-tier facility and managed directly by the market.
That led to an unavoidable fundamental question. Where had the first humans come from? It was possible that humans existed as a native species in this world. But look around. Tall buildings, hamburgers, cup ramen, beds, even perfume. Doesn't something feel familiar?
'We'll find out when we get there…'
I stopped thinking about it. There was no point in giving myself a headache over things I wasn't sure about. The breeding farm would answer all our questions—whether true humanity existed here or not.
I waited for night to fall. Since the dwarfs had such a strict class system, they also had a curfew. All sorts of useless regulations existed purely to maintain hierarchy. It resembled Earth far too closely to be a coincidence.
The worker dwarfs were divided into ten ranks. After curfew, only nobles and the highest-ranking workers—the overseers—had the right to move about. We planned to exploit that.
Remember the youth association president whose head I smashed? He was a third-rank worker. That was the main reason he had been so persistent with Baengnae. She was taller than the average dwarf, and greater height was a trait of the nobility. The youth president and the guest dwarfs had assumed she was some noble's illegitimate child.
'If they're going to misunderstand, we might as well use it.'
That was why Baengnae would now play the role of a rascal illegitimate child. The setup was simple: Baengnae, the noble's bastard, had led a hundred pilgrims to capture humans and was currently transporting them to the breeding farm. Any dwarf who interfered or got in the way would be summarily executed for obstructing official duties and insulting the nobility.
Operation name: Rascal Baengnae.
***
Death's Cat was attending a meeting taking place somewhere in a high-rise building. But she sat with her ears drooping, staring dejectedly at the floor. Present were not only the patrons from "Death" and "Heaven," but every corporate sponsor involved in the tournament. They were currently being held under the guise of a meeting.
After the summoner who had defeated the vampire giant in Stage 2 couldn't be found, the corporations had dispatched large numbers of employees to Stage 3. When no meaningful results came, the executives agreed on extreme measures. They would flood the system with rewards and concentrate them among a small number of individuals to artificially raise the difficulty. This way, they could bypass the central system's rules and give the summoners harsher trials.
They had gathered all the patrons here under the pretext of fairness. If a summoner overcame the trials with a patron's help, it would be difficult to properly separate the wheat from the chaff.
'She couldn't have died already, right…? If we retrieve them too late after death, their mind gets damaged…'
Death's Cat was anxious. The summoner she sponsored was a complete idiot. He had somehow received her sponsorship by chance and gotten dragged into the tournament without any particular talent. But she knew better than anyone that such excuses wouldn't let him avoid the trials, so her worries only grew.
'What are they all thinking…? If they raise the difficulty this fast, the summoners might reach the truth…'
She recalled the memory of her own world's destruction. It was a pain she never wanted to experience again. If Earth's summoners—who had yet to open even a single "Gate to the Sky"—faced the truth, there would only be suffering. She believed it would be better for them to remain ignorant and slowly receive the growth the system provided.
At that moment, someone placed a hand on her head. When she turned, a very familiar figure was looking down at her. Death's Cat called out in a trembling voice.
"Boss…"
The one called boss chuckled.
"Worried your little one might get swept up in danger?"
"No, I…"
The hand slowly stroked her. The touch was gentle and delicate.
"A great predator's fear comes only from danger to her young. But there is no such thing as coincidence in this world. The fact that you couldn't choose a sponsorship target for three cycles, and the fact that you finally found someone this time—everything lies on the line of inevitability."
After speaking, the boss lightly passed by her and stepped onto the platform. Someone voiced their displeasure at her appearance.
"You're quite late."
The boss chuckled again.
"The later I am, the better, isn't that right?"
Their meeting had officially begun. The agenda was promising talents—and the destruction of the dimension called Earth.
***
We walked along the night streets. The guest dwarfs had only told us the general direction of the breeding farm and couldn't give precise guidance. It wasn't because they were deliberately hiding information, but because of the workers' chronically low intelligence. Still, there was no need to worry. There were beings scattered throughout the streets who could give us real-time directions.
Whenever Baengnae seemed lost, she would shout.
"I'm Baengnae. Where's the breeding farm?"
Whenever she did, nearby first-rank workers would rush over and kindly point the way. They didn't seem to understand why she kept announcing her name, but her confident demeanor made her seem even more like nobility. The overseers bowed without a shred of suspicion, fawning over the small zombie with her arms crossed. I also thought the oppressive atmosphere we gave off played a part.
The hundred zombies walked in formation with cloth draped over their heads. Even the dogs had cloth covering them, and Baengnae rode atop one. Beside her, I was handcuffed and chained, my leash held in her hand. To any ignorant dwarf, we looked exactly like nobles returning from a human hunt. Even I would have been fooled if I were a dwarf.
Once again, an overseer who had run over pointed in a specific direction with both arms while bowing.
"Breeding farm. That way. Go that way and you'll find it."
"All right. Go."
Another first-rank worker provided information and returned to his post. There were no variables. Nobles were too busy and lazy to wander the streets at night. We strolled through the streets without issue.
But not everyone was cooperative. Finally, one who had doubts appeared. His claim was that if she were truly nobility, why wouldn't she know the location of the breeding farm? At that, Baengnae snapped.
"It's dark, so I don't know!"
The overseer was at a loss for words. The dwarf lost even the will to ask further questions, his eyes darting around. But there had been a reason for his doubt. The breeding farm was just around the corner from where we stood. It was right in front of us, so his suspicion was natural. But Baengnae remained completely unfazed. She pulled out her thorn sword and poked the insolent first-rank worker who had dared to talk back.
He seemed to realize he had picked the wrong fight and could only lower his head without a word.
"This guy, this guy. Talked back."
'Hmm… She's a complete rascal.'
This was what a class society looked like. How dare a lowly worker talk back to the noble's illegitimate daughter? He deserved to die on the spot. After putting a few holes in the forehead and shoulders of the worker who had spoken the truth, Baengnae finally issued her dismissal.
"Go!"
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The dwarf scurried away in a panic. But I had seen it. Baengnae had just infected that dwarf. Since the destination was right ahead, she had taken precautions so that a natural commotion could break out from the outside. I smiled in satisfaction.
'Aigoo, our Baengnae's all grown up.'
She was doing well even without being told. She used to be a brainless little zombie who couldn't even speak, but now she had become a proper zombie who handled things on her own. While I was thinking how impressive that was, Baengnae turned to me and said,
"Don't cause trouble."
"…"
'This… this little punk?'
I couldn't answer because I was currently in the position of a prisoner. Not because of the mistake I made at the store, but because I was a captive being taken to the breeding farm. Baengnae clearly knew that and was saying it to tease me. She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. Then she pulled out the whistle and blew it wildly.
Whistle— Whistle—
The whistle's effect repeatedly signaled that Baengnae was right in front of me. The sound could only be heard by its target anyway. No matter how much she blew, that noisy signal only reached my ears.
Listening to the whistle, I thought,
'Death's Cat… That item was the worst sponsorship…'
Whistle whistle— Whistle whistle—
Stop it, save me!
Baengnae kept blowing the whistle the entire time we approached the human breeding farm.