Let's Live Kindly!

There was something I had to take care of before heading down to the Basement 4th Floor.

Lately, my name kept popping up all over the gallery, and it was starting to get under my skin. I tried to ignore it, but I just couldn't. How the hell had my information spread this fast? Who was the culprit? The Tower Management Bureau? Or maybe…

The culprit was the Shrine Maiden? Just how cracked was Japan's Shrine Maiden? Insane. How far could she observe? Wait—was I being watched right now?

Japan's Shrine Maiden, huh. Western Europe's Holy Maiden figured out my name too. Those divine-type classes really do have the intel advantage. Oracles and revelations will do that.

Which meant my job from this point forward was to fortify the barn before the enemies arrived. Nothing dumber than locking the barn door after the horse is gone.

And to protect the barn, I first needed to assess its condition…

"Ugh. Foreign criminals have gotten this out of hand?"

Lately the number of foreign criminals had been climbing. What was this country, a crime-experience theme park? Even if South Korea was a Tower backwater, there were still lines you didn't cross. Standards you were supposed to uphold.

"This is not okay…!!!"

Broad-daylight kidnappings. Murder and body dumping. Killing people and acting completely shameless about it. What the hell was this? Was this seriously happening in South Korea right now? They were smuggling drugs too? And human trafficking on top of that? This place was a full-blown trash paradise!

The perpetrators were all presumed to be unregistered illegal-resident hunters. Foreign hunters running wild on Korean soil—and the punishments were a complete slap on the wrist. Just deport them back to their home countries and call it a day? Then what about the victims? Who was consoling the bereaved families?

Looking into Korea's current situation made my blood boil.

"This is just too unfair."

Of course I was going to get nasty about it. No real punishment. Just because they were foreign hunters, they got to dance all over Korean law like it was a playground. Fine. Why should you guys have all the fun? I wanted a turn playing above the law too.

"Shall I play above the law a little?"

But before the fun started, I posted a warning on Babel Gallery first. Anyone who wanted to run could run fast. Anyone who wanted to talk smack could talk smack to the bitter end. I gave you a full day's notice, okay? Don't come crying later. That kind of warning.

But of course, posting something like this just once never worked. It'd get buried and vanish in no time, so flooding the board so every hunter could see it was mandatory. Time to put these fingers to work for once!

Good. That should do it. I'd clearly given the warning. I'd even granted a full twenty-four-hour grace period. If they still refused to leave after all that—well, that just meant they wanted to bury their bones in this soil.

Fine by me. I'd bury them myself.

Now, let's check the reactions.

The Basement Manager's area-of-effect aggro warning. The effect was tremendous! The moment the posts flooded the board, an exodus rush kicked off. They were shaking in their boots!

Afraid of the Basement Manager who'd casually massacred fifteen top-tier hunters from Tower-advanced nations? Well, okay, even I had to admit that was a little scary…

Had I pulled too much aggro? People who'd come to Korea for work and foreign hunters on vacation were bolting like mad. No—I'd clearly only warned the illegal-resident hunters. This looked like a mass foreigner deportation order…!

Was this a twenty-first-century isolationist policy? The late Grand Prince Heungseon was probably applauding from the afterlife.

"Ah…"

No! That's not what I meant! Tourists weren't the target! The real scumbags weren't reacting at all—why were perfectly normal travelers taking the hit…

I. With my own hands. Had ruined a family's once-in-a-lifetime trip to Korea…

"Illegal-resident hunters… I will never forgive you…!"

This was all your fault. Absolutely. Never. Forgive. You. Waiting a full twenty-four hours for garbage criminals was not the right call!!! The victims got hit with zero warning, didn't they?! Then you get hit with zero warning too!

The campaign to eradicate illegal-resident criminal hunters. Starts now.

A cluster of abandoned buildings in Incheon's Jemulpo District.

Large-scale drug smuggling. Organized stock manipulation. Illegal slush-fund money laundering. A gathering place for people who did everything except the things they couldn't.

Unregistered foreign hunters had trickled in one by one, gradually concentrating around this area, until it became a lawless zone the police themselves hesitated to patrol. And the massive criminal organization that had united those people: Yuranghoe.

The shadow cast over South Korea, a Tower backwater nation.

At its center, a gangster with the refined look of an intellectual in glasses pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"Teacher. Did you see the post that went up on Babel Tower?"

"Ah, yes. I saw it. Honestly, it's not even funny."

They shared information in clumsy Korean. The topic, as always, was the Basement Manager. The post she'd written today was the talk of the criminal underworld.

"Get out within twenty-four hours? Who does she think she is, the president of this country? Right, Teacher?"

"Exactly. It's not like we have to leave just because she says so. This country is already rotten to the core, isn't it?"

"Right?! It's not like there's just one or two of us. Even this country's government gave up. How's she supposed to find us all and take us out, anyway?"

Unregistered illegal-resident hunters had already spread across the entire nation. For Korea, with its small number of climbers, tracking down and responding to people who used superhuman abilities was a near-impossible task.

Armed with physical capabilities far beyond ordinary people, plus every kind of item and skill imaginable, there simply wasn't the capacity to catch them.

In the end, the criminal organizations had been left alone. They'd grown larger and larger, until now they were poking their heads above the surface and reaching into civilian life.

"Well then, Teacher. We'll continue with the project."

"Yes. Keep doing what you've been doing."

An executive of Yuranghoe. The man they called Teacher. A Joseonjok hunter named Jang Yeolji.

His class was Casting Maker. And he melted people down to create items.

Five years ago, he'd been caught doing the same illegal work in China and fled to Korea, and that connection had grown into this expanded business. He wasn't about to give up this position easily. He wasn't soft enough to shut down operations and leave in a single day, either. Come if you dare—that was his mindset as he continued the work.

In the basement of an abandoned building no one ever visited. A place they called the workshop. Once you were dragged down there, you never came back out—so the criminals of Yuranghoe called it the Hell Workshop.

"Hngh… P-please, spare me…"

"I'm sorry, but. The moment you entered this place, your life was already over."

"P-please…! We—we know each other, don't we?!"

"Tears, begging, more begging—none of it matters. The order's already been placed. I'm in the business of selling castings. I can't just let the materials go free, can I?"

"My d-daughter… my daughter's waiting for me… please…"

"What, want me to send your daughter along with you?"

"Ah…"

Jang Yeolji exhaled cigarette smoke as he looked at the man bound in chains. Anyone with a human heart couldn't do this kind of work. He'd discarded his humanity a long time ago. Money mattered more than lives.

"Just think of it as bad luck. You should've gone home early. Why wander the streets after drinking, hmm?"

Being able to walk around safely even at dawn was a thing of the past. As criminal organizations multiplied, Korea's nights were no longer safe.

"Well then."

Yuranghoe's Teacher drew a butcher's knife for the disassembly work. With emotionless eyes. With mechanical hand movements. He pressed the blade toward the sacrifice.

That was when it happened.

The air in the abandoned building suddenly grew heavy.

"…Hm?"

The Teacher adjusted his glasses. Interrupted before he could even start the work, his expression twisted with deep irritation. And if some justice-obsessed, chivalry-brimming climber had come to raid this place—well, he'd capture them in reverse and turn them into a top-grade casting. The thought made him lick his lips.

He climbed to the upper floor where he sensed a presence. True to his Casting Maker class, he'd plated his entire body in castings. Even if a climber who played around on the 50th floor showed up, he figured he could at least escape.

In short: Jang Yeolji was arrogant. Against the master of the basement, no less.

"…What the hell."

When Jang Yeolji climbed the stairs with his weapon in hand, something enormous stood on the first floor of the abandoned building.

There was nothing around it. The floor was simply covered in bloodstains. Twelve of his subordinates had been guarding the first floor—so where had they all gone?

Jang Yeolji stepped backward. That thing had approached without a sound and destroyed everything. With its neck twisted at a bizarre angle. Glancing around as if searching for something. Making strange noises.

Is that a person…?

Jang Yeolji had never seen a woman that large before. He'd never seen a woman like that silently kill twelve people and then just stand there in a daze, either. Even with every last subordinate gone missing, not a single security casting had reacted. A complete mystery.

Countless question marks flooded his mind, hooking into him like barbs. His feet wouldn't move, as if his ankles were snagged on a fishing sinker. He knew instinctively: there was no running.

"Shit…"

Tension crept across the face of a criminal who'd been overflowing with confidence. The executive of Yuranghoe—South Korea's worst criminal organization—who'd dismissed whoever might come, who'd believed in his own abilities to an excessive degree and grown arrogant, now found his hands trembling.

What is that…

He didn't know. He couldn't understand. His brain refused to process it. That was definitely not a person. Then a monster? Could monsters come out of the Tower? Cases like that existed. But none of the monsters Jang Yeolji had ever seen behaved or smiled like that.

"P-please, help me!"

At that moment, Mr. Park—the victim still captive in the workshop—screamed. From his perspective, it was a final struggle, a last desperate cry. And Mr. Park's agonized scream reached the ears of the entity on the first floor of the abandoned building, still searching for prey, with perfect clarity.

"…Ah."

Jang Yeolji groaned. In the brief moment he'd looked away, the woman ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over two meters tall had vanished. Where to? How could a woman that large just disappear in this building?

"……"

Something dripped onto Jang Yeolji's crown. With a trembling neck, he forced his head up and looked at the ceiling.

"Popopopo."

The Teacher vanished from that spot.

By the Basement Manager's order, the cleanup proceeded diligently.