Chapter 11
Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 011
Chapter Title: Salvation from the Sky
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, thousands of evacuees headed toward the National Assembly building.
In their hands, they carried placards scrawled with desperate messages like
"Guarantee Us a Place to Live"
"Wake Up, Incompetent Government!"
Their procession began paralyzing the heart of Seoul.
Every lane of Yeouido Boulevard was packed with furious crowds.
"Give us back our homes!"
"Government, wake up!"
The voices of thousands merged into a massive roar, crashing like waves against the solid shield wall of police.
They were the evacuees from Hanseong Apartments—people, along with their families and acquaintances, who had lost everything overnight and been driven out.
Despair, exhaustion, and the venomous resentment of those who had given up on everything etched their faces.
The stifling heat rising from the asphalt, mingled with the sweat and rage of thousands, clawed at the lungs with every breath.
Park Cheol-min, who had stepped forward as the evacuees' representative, was shouting himself hoarse.
He thrust his phone screen—showing his empty bank balance—toward the cameras of the swarming reporters with trembling hands.
Just a few days ago at this hour, he had been lounging under the AC with his kid, watching TV... Bloodshot veins burst in his eyes.
"Look! This is the reality of Korea right now! The home I spent my life building, my car, my child's toys and photo albums—they're all trapped inside that monster's fortress."
"And what is the government doing about it? While some YouTuber up on that distant hill brags about getting a single gold coin, we're starving to death down here!"
His anguished cry finally broke the dam for a nearby mother, who burst into sobs she had been holding back.
"All my baby's supplies, our cash, the house deeds—everything's in there... Please, just let us go in, please."
Her wails ignited the fuse.
The scene turned into a hellscape of tears and fury in an instant.
Some fired-up protesters started banging on police shields and scuffling, curses and shouts erupting from all sides.
This entire spectacle was being broadcast live across Korea through dozens of cameras.
Go Se-gu of Channel Fact Checker stood atop a news van roof, a step removed from the pandemonium.
He shot an envious glance at the reporter who had just scored an interview with the evacuee rep, then unleashed a tirade at his own camera.
"Folks, it's a tragedy! An unbelievable tragedy unfolding in 21st-century Korea."
"But everyone, we must find hope amid this sorrow. The one entity that has opened a channel of communication with those unknowns? That's me, Go Se-gu."
"The government and guilds couldn't do it, but I will. Every one of your Super Chats is a huge encouragement!"
The president chewed his dry lips as he watched the live feed of the chaos outside the National Assembly on the central screen.
Thousands of citizens were crying out in agony.
The fury that the state had failed to protect them transmitted vividly through the screen.
"What in the world is this mess?"
The president's voice trembled weakly.
He stared at the large screen.
One side showed the faces of the major guild masters, and Ma Jin-tae, the Awakener Association president, spoke first.
"Mr. President, we can no longer stand by. The people's anger has reached the breaking point. The only solution is to convene the guild coalition immediately and suppress them by force."
Choi Kang-hyuk of Hwarang Guild coldly countered.
Fatigue and rage swirled in his eyes.
"Suppress them? Association President, those aren't the monsters we've been fighting. Have you already forgotten Hwarang's defeat? Rash attacks will only bring greater sacrifices. Our priority now is to figure out their intentions."
"Intentions? What more intentions could they have beyond driving people out and destroying the city!"
The defense minister raised his voice.
As the meeting devolved once more into finger-pointing and pointless arguments, Seo Jun of Black Forest Guild appeared on screen, lounging back as if sipping from a wine glass.
His voice was languid, but the elegant twirl of his wine glass betrayed a sharp sneer.
"Oh dear, does the national hero have some brilliant solution in mind?"
"Guild Master Seo Jun, are you picking a fight right now?!"
Choi Kang-hyuk bellowed, but Seo Jun just shrugged.
"Just stating facts. Black Forest has no intention of wasting our members' lives on a hopeless fight. We should use our heads like that YouTuber. That lunatic only paid attention to one YouTuber, right? Could be their level... or a cunning trap."
The conference room air turned icy at Seo Jun's words.
No one spoke.
A disaster solvable by neither force nor dialogue.
While they eyed each other warily, wasting time, things were rotting from the roots.
In the end, the meeting concluded emptily with a vague resolution for a joint guild coalition response.
Lee Jung-woo flopped onto the plush sofa and quietly watched the screen.
The magical screen before him was split into several panels, each showing different scenes.
Crying evacuees, shouting reporters, and the movements of the government and guilds inferred from public news and info.
"Belial."
"Yes, my lord."
"What does all that clamor sound like to you?"
Belial paused briefly before replying in his signature cynical tone.
"Nothing more than the foolish whining of petty residents begging to have their comfortable lives restored."
"Right answer."
Jung-woo smirked.
"They're screaming for their lost homes and money. But that's not the real issue. Their society was already rotten, and I just poked the festering sore a bit."
He stood up.
"They want their lost property back? Then give it to them."
"Pardon?"
Even Belial couldn't grasp his intent.
Jung-woo stepped out onto the balcony and gazed down at his kingdom.
He pointed toward the former Hanseong Apartments complex.
"Collect every bit of wealth left in those apartments."
Belial's body trembled faintly at the order.
He had realized his lord's true purpose.
"Money, jewels, luxury bags, car keys, house deeds... everything the residents called their own, without exception. And... dump it all over the National Assembly skies."
"......!"
"Once we give them what they want, they won't make such a racket anymore."
A smile more demonic than any devil's—cruel and gleeful—curved Jung-woo's lips.
"Now they'll learn what their real screams sound like."
Belial bowed in reverence and withdrew.
He headed straight to the empire's heart.
His orders flowed through the soul network to the Wraiths and Specters.
Ethereal undead dormant in shadows across Necropolis opened their eyes in unison.
They slipped soundlessly, relentlessly into the remnants of the old Hanseong Apartments.
Interiors empty of life.
One Wraith passed through a sealed safe like a ghost.
Its translucent hand seized bundles of cash and jewelry boxes inside.
The laws of the material world meant nothing to them.
Another Specter plucked luxury bags and watches hidden deep in wardrobes, and smart keys from luxury sedans in the parking lot, phasing right through.
Thousands of phantoms plundering the city's wealth was more efficient and eerie than any army's raid.
In mere minutes, every valuable from the apartment complex gathered in the skies above the imperial palace.
They coalesced into a massive black cloud and crossed Seoul's skies toward Yeouido.
Outside the National Assembly.
The protest was growing more violent.
Some demonstrators tried to snatch police shields; the police prepped tear gas with warnings blaring.
A powder keg ready to blow.
That's when it happened.
"Huh...?"
Someone pointed at the sky.
All eyes turned upward.
A colossal black cloud surged toward the National Assembly at impossible speed.
"R-Rain coming?"
But the cloud's movement was too unnatural for weather.
It hovered overhead, then began dumping its load.
Not raindrops.
First came fluttering 50,000-won bills dancing down from the heavens.
"......?"
The plaza's roars and cries cut off instantly.
People stared blankly at the money raining over their heads.
One bill, two—one landed in a palm, confirmed real.
Silence shattered.
"It's money!"
A man scooped up a 50,000-won bill with shaking hands.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
He screamed wildly at those around him.
"Th-this is real money! Real damn money!"
His shout flipped the script.
Since the gates opened ten years ago, unleashing monsters and instability, many hoarded cash and precious metals over bank savings.
Not just bills.
Gold bars thudded onto asphalt.
Jewels scattered with tinkles.
Necklaces and rings studded with gems,
files stuffed with car smart keys and property deeds poured down like rain.
It was their lost property, returned.
"What the hell!"
"That's my watch!"
"That car key! It's mine!"
Order and solidarity collapsed in a heartbeat.
The single voice of the evacuees splintered into thousands of selfish grabs.
People shoved and trampled each other, clawing for the falling riches.
Neighbors who had chanted together moments ago now yanked hair and wrestled over cash bundles on the ground.
Park Cheol-min stared at the scene in dazed horror.
He saw the neighbor who had clapped his shoulder with encouragement hurl himself at a gold necklace on the ground, eyes bloodshot.
The mother who had sobbed with her child now shoved others aside to snatch a luxury bag from the pavement.
He tried to shout at them.
This was wrong—this was the monsters mocking them.
But his voice drowned in the frenzied roars for possessions.
Police, reporters—even Go Se-gu, broadcasting it all—were speechless before this ugly human drama.
Jung-woo watched it all from his sofa, thoroughly pleased.
A cold cola can chilled his hand.
He took a sip and murmured softly to Belial behind him.
"Belial. That's the true face of the people I'm going to save."