Mesath's Special Gift

I peeled off the gas mask with a sigh of deep satisfaction.

"Hooooooo…"

The moment I slipped free of the VR drone feed, the real world came rushing back. My head was ringing. Spending that long watching that repulsive cockroach Main in real time had wrung my nerves dry.

I let myself sink into the engine-room chair. How lucky I was to be piloting all of this from a place this safe. If I'd had to crawl down into those sewers in person, I really would have lost my mind.

Anyway.

"Another wonderfully productive day! Hiyohhohohot!"

My voice bounced around the empty engine room like an echo hunting for an audience that wasn't there. No spectators — but the performance never stopped. Articetia was sitting in the very next car, after all. Which meant rest was never really rest.

Sigh.

A spiral aperture irised open in the floor, and a lavishly wrapped paper box rose through it. Ah — so it had arrived. I'd completely forgotten I'd asked the boy to fetch this. A red ribbon sat tied across the lid in an extravagant bow.

"A man must always keep a Plan B in his pocket! Ksssss…"

I strode out of the engine room and into the passenger car with all the swagger I could muster.

"Hiyohhohot! Lady Articetia!"

I bounced down the corridor as lightly as if the floor were a trampoline. Articetia rose from her seat and turned, unhurried. I dropped to one knee in a flourish of white lab coat.

"Seoul Pest Extermination Operation: Complete! You may set forth whenever you please — okay! Kishishishit!"

I gazed up at her with shining eyes, fingers fidgeting, my voice pitched to the fevered register of an otaku at an idol fan meeting.

"Ooooh! The day the Republic of Korea kneels beneath the banner of the Mausoleum Temple is nearly upon us!!"

Durakh Han hoisted his head high on its chain and roared with laughter.

"Kwahahahaha! This fellow's got a spine of steel! Drowning the whole of Seoul in chaos in a single stroke! I like him!"

Beyond the windows, the entire city lay smothered in gas. Harmless to humans, they said — but what a spectacle. Anyone glancing up from the street would have sworn Hitler had just dropped a biochemical ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠warhead.

Noir pushed up his monocle and allowed himself a thin smile.

"I am ashamed to have briefly mistaken you for a traitor. Superlative results, Mesath."

No, no. I am a traitor, actually? I'll flip this entire operation the second I get an opening!

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Articetia alone watched the screens with no expression at all. I couldn't begin to guess what was turning behind those eyes. I had to strike first — before she wrote the invasion order.

Alpha. Time to kick off the operation.

Warnings bloomed across every pane of glass, from the ceiling to the walls.

I clutched my forehead and gave my head a theatrical shake.

"Hoyoyo. Well, well… and here I was wondering who it could be. The ranked heroes of the Republic of Korea!"

I had to hijack the conversation before anyone floated the lunatic idea of an all-out war. Especially the man of the hour — Durakh Han!

"Lady Articetia! Grant me the order to advance!! This Durakh Han shall behead every last one of those lively little heroes! Kwahat!!"

See? I knew he'd say that. Just because your own neck got chopped off, sir, doesn't mean you have to go around taking everyone else's.

I stood, dusted off my lab coat, and spoke.

"Durakh Han! Do compose yourself, if you would. War is not simply a matter of 'charge, forward,' now is it? Kssssss…"

Durakh Han thrust the head in his hand toward my face.

"A fine thought. But I've spent centuries on the battlefield, lad. I rather doubt my grasp of combat falls short of yours."

One look at him said everything — a medieval knight encased head to toe in full plate. In raw combat experience, he had me beaten, no contest. But this much, I'd already accounted for.

"Ahem, ahem. Alpha. Run the war simulation, if you please."

I snapped my fingers.

Tak!

A war simulation bloomed across the glass.

"Excellent. Now! Behold these beautifully arranged figures!"

A world map and dozens of graphs flared to life across the hologram at once.

"We seize the Republic of Korea with Seoul as our axis and bring down the Capital Defense Command along with the Association. Oh! The results are a perfect score! Civilian terror, governmental collapse, a foothold secured! The odds of the Mausoleum Temple conquering Korea sit at a magnificent 98.2%! However…!"

Alpha threw up a new analysis chart.

"Yes. The problem is international opinion! The probability that the hero coalitions of America, Japan, and Europe will move sits at 88.4%!"

I spun in a full circle, pressed a hand to my brow, and struck a pose.

"In particular — should France's Liberatin, America's Overseer, or Russia's Siberian King intervene, even the Mausoleum Temple would be forced to absorb a certain measure of losses!!"

I thrust a finger toward the ceiling as if pinning it in place.

"Therefore, Alpha! Render your judgment. Is launching an all-out war at this juncture a sound decision?"

"Correct! Hence the fact that a full-scale war is, at this present moment, inappropriate! Ta-daaa!!"

An awkward silence stretched out, and a cold sweat slid down my spine. Tsk… did I overdo it?

Fortunately, Noir inclined his head.

"There is reason in that. Should our strength be diminished, it would not be the heroes alone we need fear — the balance of power among the Seven Dungeons themselves would collapse."

I snapped my fingers and pointed straight at him.

"Exactly! Wow! You've struck the nail on the head! As expected of Lady Articetia's steward, Noir!"

Once Noir had sided with me, Durakh Han took a step back as well.

"They say a capable general wins without shedding blood. A victory purchased with heavy losses is no victory at all."

"Ding-dong-ding-dong! Perfect, Durakh Han! As expected of a war sage who has weathered centuries! Hiyohhohohot!!"

Good! A little flattery mixed in, just right! He's almost there. Now I only have to convince Articetia.

"Lady Articetia. Regrettable though it is — for the glorious future of the Mausoleum Temple, might I suggest a strategic withdrawal?!"

Honestly, I can't say it twice! I've got nothing left! Just nod your head!

But…

Contrary to every hope I had, Articetia wrote glowing blue letters in the empty air.

My face locked up at that single word.

"Eh…?"

The invasion of Seoul seemed to have been abandoned, at least. And yet. How to put it. It felt as though a stake had been driven through my heart. Why? I should have been celebrating. I'd just saved the world.

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Articetia's gaze dropped to the paper box in my left hand.

I snapped back to myself a beat too late and offered the box up in both hands.

"It seemed a matter of some concern to you, Lady Articetia, so I went to considerable trouble to obtain it. Ksss."

Articetia opened the box. Inside, a strawberry parfait sat arranged in all its splendor. She simply blinked, staring down at it in silence.

Ugh… now what. Articetia is disappointed in me. I've spent this whole time building up my right to speak on a foundation of trust — and next time, I may not be able to stop her. Damn it. Should I have forced the issue and kidnapped Baekho after all?

My temple had just started to throb when Articetia slowly wrote a single word in the air.

Ugh! What, a confirmation kill?

Huh?

My mind went blank for a second. Articetia closed the wrapping, passed the box to Noir, and wrote again.

My eyes flew wide.

Whoa whoa whoa! Holy shit!! Skeletal hands, bursting out of the shadows?!

Articetia stepped on the skulls as though they were a staircase and walked into the mirror-world inside the glass. Noir gave the parfait box a light little shake and smiled with genuine warmth.

"Heh heh heh. It would appear Lady Articetia was rather taken with Mesath's gift."

"See you next time, friend."

Durakh Han clapped me on the shoulder as he went.

Silence settled over the train car. Hongryeon approached with her hands folded neatly before her.

"Thou hast labored most diligently, Lord Mesath."

I hung my head.

What just happened? Did I seriously just stop the end of the world with a parfait? Is that allowed?!

I clapped a hand over my mouth.

"Kit!"

In the end I couldn't hold it in. The laugh tore loose.

"Kihihihihihihihihihit! I simply cannot contain myself! Tonight I simply must have a drink! Hongryeon, would you prepare a celebratory toast?! Kishit!"

However messy the process — the result had gone according to plan! A magnificent victory, all mine!

Hongryeon bowed at the waist with perfect courtesy.

"This humble one shall prepare the 1727 vintage Rüdesheimer Apostelwein, sealed by a legendary sommelier."

Huh? 1727 — that's a three-hundred-year-old wine?! Won't I die if I drink that?

Even so, I licked my lips. Ah, well. When else was I ever going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to taste something like this?

"Kishishishit! I can hardly wait!"

I didn't want to go back. But what choice did I have? It wasn't as though I had anywhere else to go.

I shoved the engine-room lever all the way forward.

"Let us return!"

Wheeeeeeeeen—

"My sweet home! To the Super-science Dungeon!!"

Hainan Province, China.

Land that had once belonged to humanity was now the insect-type Mains' dungeon — The Swarm.

Vines hung in dense curtains from what had been glittering resorts. Tropical plants had swallowed the city whole. Giant ants prowled between the buildings, and the sky seethed with cicada swarms the size of human faces, shedding a stench of rot across a landscape out of nightmare.

The Royal Crown Hotel had once been the landmark of downtown Sanya — a peculiar, apple-tree-shaped pile of architecture that looked as though it had been built from enormous Lego blocks. Now it was a colossal beehive, slathered in sticky crimson wax.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz—

Wingbeats like helicopter rotors sent a tremor through the entire hive.

"Kh…!"

The cockroach Main was being hauled along by worker bees, both arms wrenched behind him. Green ichor leaked from the shell they dragged across the red carpet.

A few steps above sat a throne. Upon it, with effortless grace, reclined the Insect Lord — Mandarinia. Her black compound eyes curved in a cold arc.

"Hmph…"

She wore armor banded in gold and black. Long crimson hair spilled to her waist. Two red antennae stirred restlessly on her brow. At a glance she might have passed for a woman of devastating beauty — until the four arms gave her away as a Main. Her dress seemed to breathe with living wasp-stripes. She crossed one sensual, sculpted thigh over the other.

"You look a wreck, Cucaracha."

The queen's lips curled in a faint sneer. The cockroach Main's antennae drooped in misery.

"I… first… something to eat…"

Ichor dripped steadily from the legs they had dragged him in on. Mandarinia tilted her head a fraction; her antennae traced an elegant curve through the air.

"But of course I'll feed you. A loser you may be — but there is still loyalty among our own kind, is there not?"

Cucaracha's antennae fluttered with something like joy.

"That's our Mandarinia! Generous as a queen should be!"

Worker bees approached and unfurled a banana leaf before him. What lay upon it, however, was…

A dead cockroach. His own kind.

Cucaracha's face curdled in an instant.

"Well? You said you were hungry. Why aren't you eating?"

Mandarinia whispered it with a languid, honeyed smile.

"Kh."

Cucaracha glared up at the queen then and there.

"They said as much at the Mausoleum Temple. That a mere bug shouldn't put on airs."

At that single sentence, Mandarinia's brow gave a sharp twitch. Cucaracha flung all four arms wide.

"Kikikik! Me, a loser? No — the one who survives is the victor! Therefore, until we cockroaches go extinct, this is no defeat!"

His eyes bulged; he jabbed an antenna at Mandarinia like a spear.

"But you, Mandarinia — you'll be different. This is not the Mausoleum Temple of old. Articetia… that woman… she didn't spend centuries hiding on that little peninsula for nothing!"

The cockroach's head snapped back as he burst into laughter.

"Kihihihik! A cockroach may live — but The Swarm will not escape its—"

Whiiiiip!

The air tore.

KRAK!

A lance flew from the throne, punched through Cucaracha's face, and burst it apart. The cockroach Main crumpled to the floor in a single heartbeat. Mandarinia's black compound eyes shone with a killing frost.

"A loser who merely refused to die — and still you talk too much."

She twined a lock of long crimson hair around one finger.

"Hmph… a mere bug, was it…?"

She licked her lips, slow and sensual.

"A corpse… getting above itself, is it?"

Her antennae lashed with naked fury.

"Mantis."

At her summons, a praying-mantis Main whose forelegs gleamed like drawn blades shifted on four hind feet.

"……Your command, my Queen."

Tiny wings along the lance fluttered, and the weapon sailed back to Mandarinia's hand. She snatched the long spear from the air.

Tak!

She drove the lance into the floor with a heavy thud and let her voice drop low.

"Go to Korea. Carve the majesty of The Swarm into the Mausoleum Temple — down to the marrow of their bones."

Mantis struck its bladed forelegs against the floor and bowed its head.

Chang!

"By your will!"