Your Brothers' Scheme? Ordering Yoon Chang-wook to Kill the Kids

"I'll let you live. On one condition: by tomorrow morning, you publicly confess to the world that you and your brothers were behind this terrorist attack."

As the recording played, the cavern fell deathly silent in an instant.

Just in case, I paused the playback and added a helpful explanation.

"Those who know will already understand. I'm talking about the suicide bombing in Korea three days ago."

I glanced around, and quite a few people nodded knowingly while shooting side-eyes at their neighbors. For those who looked clueless, someone nearby kindly chimed in with, "You know, that thing."

And Milo flinched hard the moment that incident came out of my mouth.

Starting to catch on now, are we?

I'll make that popcorn taste sweet for you, Mom.

"I looked into the perpetrator right away. And from the terrorist we caught at the scene, I found an emblem proving he belonged to Sword and Glory."

Of course, the emblem bit was total bullshit I made up. Can't exactly say I read his memories with Greed Photography, right?

Anyway, the real meat starts next. I cranked the recorder's volume to max so even the hard-of-hearing could catch it.

- Bullshit. I let you yap just to see how far you'd go... What? Let you live? Make it public?

A man's voice rang out crystal clear through the stunned silence of the cavern. Just audio, but no one here wouldn't recognize its owner.

"Th-that voice is definitely..."

"Vice Guild Master Paul's...?"

"The accent and speech pattern are spot-on like the Vice Guild Master's..."

No one would fail to recognize the voice of their own guild's vice master. Thankfully, there were no idiots in this crowd.

- Cocky little shit. Do you think we took a bullet to the head? You must be insane to think we'd expose that.

Slash!

That was when Milo's gladius whipped through the air. The crescent trajectory solidified into a tangible sword beam hurtling straight at me—or more precisely, at the recorder in my right hand.

World Rank 13 wasn't a poker bluff; the speed was impressive enough to draw gasps.

But what could he do?

"Tsk."

Thanks to High Sense, I'd already predicted he'd flip out like this. A slight twist of my body, and his sword beam sliced empty air, smashing into the cavern wall.

BOOM!

The wall exploded violently where it hit, spewing thick dust.

I glanced at the wrecked wall and chuckled.

"Fitting name, 'Sibling Wrecker,' huh?"

Then I glared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at Milo, his face twisted like a demon's.

"Thanks to you hoarding that recording like I said, your precious little brother looks like a madman now."

"Cut the bullshit village drama...!"

Right on cue, I hit play again.

- Those awkward half-human, half-monster brats. Ugly to look at, and worst of all, sharing the same air as them makes me sick.

- So we'll roll up our sleeves and clean house for you.

The more Paul ranted from the recorder, the darker the guild members' faces grew. Especially Milo's.

Yeah. Watching that bastard's face is making me crave popcorn too.

"If you're so innocent, why not hold hands and head to France? You know Jean Berry? The 'Man Who Discerns Lies.'"

"......"

"His Crystal of Truth will give you the answers. What do I gain by framing the leader of a major British guild for no reason—"

Having said my piece, I pocketed the recorder.

"—or are you just the psycho bastard who tried to bomb those poor, innocent kids who had nothing to do with it?"

With that, the cavern plunged back into silence. Milo trembled, veins bulging in his eyes.

「.......」

The shocked guild members just stood frozen, eyes darting, before one by one... clink... clink... they lowered their weapons toward me.

Finally, a female player stepped forward as their representative, addressing Milo amid the chaos.

"Is what he says true, Guild Master?"

"......"

"If it is... I'll be really disappointed in you."

Grip. She clenched her fist in anguish, biting her lower lip.

"So... tell us it's not true. Scold us for being fools swayed by such flimsy lies!"

Eyes that had been on me now pierced Milo. Surrounded by over twenty pairs of contemptuous, disappointed gazes, he started breathing raggedly. Like he was having a respiratory crisis.

Mom must've polished off the popcorn. I was about to put the finishing touch on this untimely exposé—

Rumble.

—until one of the cavern's iron doors burst open, shattering the silence. The one that hadn't opened during the second trial.

"......!"

All eyes, including mine, locked onto it.

Thud!

A massive rust-red foot stomped over the threshold.

Reading its history, I felt my rationality fray for a split ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠second.

"...Yeah."

One word: that bastard was the one who, back in that ridiculous barrier, ordered me to kill my mom and dad?

Escaping that barrier, I'd vowed deep in my heart: I'd tear that fucker apart with my own hands.

***

"Wh-what the hell is that monster?!"

"Battle stations!"

"Doesn't feel like a pushover! Everyone, stay sharp!"

The guild members panicked but formed up flawlessly. Tanks and DPS drew weapons and advanced, supports hanging back to buff or prep ranged fire.

Just as their formation locked in to wipe a single foe—

I haven't even properly introduced myself, and we're already getting red-faced?

Thud!

The thing lifted its stubby leg and slammed the ground. A wide mana shockwave swept everyone present.

But, "...Wh-what?"

"Nothing happened?"

"Just trying to psych us out?"

No visible changes, so they buzzed uncertainly.

Of course.

I could see it clear as day.

Casting a wide-area debuff without a word. Sneaky.

Hard to gauge exact power without clashing, but instinct flashed: this slime might be stronger than Cheonrang.

"Don't panic! Together, one like that's no problem!"

"From the way it talks, that's the dungeon boss! Take it down quick and get outta this creepy hellhole!"

Realizing nothing happened, they rallied and charged—

"Urk, urghhh—!"

"Ugh?!"

—if not for some starting to puke their guts out.

Probably that Vomit Induction skill. Lives up to its name disgustingly well.

I played a little prank on your bodies. So mind your manners. I value etiquette highly, you see?

Its pudgy finger pointed at the vomiting members.

Otherwise, you'll end up like them. Doesn't look like just an upset stomach, right? Internals wrung like a soaked rag, esophagus rotting away. Heh.

The examples were now coughing blood past bile. The others froze, realizing this slime could plunge them into agony at will.

Good. Now we can have a civilized chat. Let's see... you.

This time, it pointed at Milo Holt, standing dumbstruck closest to it.

"...Me?"

Yeah. You looked in a tough spot earlier. Am I right? Of course.

"......"

So how about I lend a helping hand? Interested?

What's this slime scheming now? I was sick of it, ready to sew that stinking mouth shut—

"......"

Mom's giving odd advice. Not mere curiosity...

Fine, I'll play along.

"A helping hand...?"

I was pondering the final trial. First time seeing troublemakers like you. Everyone picking option 1 in the second trial? Fairy tale shit.

It sighed genuinely disappointed no one picked 2.

For the finale, I gotta screw you over somehow. Perfect timing—great idea hit me. Win-win for us both. Oh, choice is still yours, of course.

"...Get to the point."

The point is... hmm. Excluding you as rep, 53 total?

Yellow drool dripping, its mouth split in a grin.

Sacrifice 43 lives to me. I'll count the final trial cleared, reward you, and let you out.

Gasp after gasp rippled out.

...Now it clicked. Why fewer than ten survived the 'Altar of Proof' in my first run.

"Shut your bullshit mouth! Why the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hell would I—"

Why? The remaining 10 leave with memories altered. Here, I'm no different from a god.

Back then, Milo had blamed unprecedented strong monsters for low survivors. Not wrong, exactly.

43 die, 10 leave with tweaked memories... oh? Then no one left knows your crimes?

"......"

But survivors weren't from fighting strong monsters. Just sacrifices thinning the herd.

Different reasons back then, maybe survival desperation or 'fitting rewards' blinding them.

No way to know now. But,

Your call. Show touching camaraderie? Fine, everyone leaves knowing your sins.

If Milo sacrificed them now,

"I, I..."

The reason would be obvious.

"......"

Milo trailed off, quietly bowing his head. From our angle, only his back visible. Without Throw Eye like me—

—hard to read his true heart.

He slowly turned, facing the guild members.

"...Sorry, everyone."

I could see right through his inner glee, you bastard.

"What?!"

"F-fuck! What the hell, Guild Master?!"

"You demonic shit!"

The guild members, thunderstruck, unleashed curses and shouts.

Kuhaha! Humans are so refreshingly honest with their instincts!

"Can you at least make the 43 sacrifices painless? That's the last thing I can do as their guild master—"

I cut him off right there.

"—Shut your mouth."

Any more, and even with debuff immunity, I'd puke.

"All you shits are getting torn apart by me anyway. Too chatty."

Stepping forward, the slime and Milo both focused on me. The slime especially cocked its head in confusion.

Why isn't Vomit Induction working on you?

"Oh, it worked fine. My stomach's really upset."

I patted my solar plexus. Not really indigestion—the Igor's Necklace core processed there handled it.

Crackle!

I held my hand to the sparking core, then addressed the stunned guild members.

"One request."

Wouldn't change my actions regardless, but courtesy.

"Mind if I rough up your guild master bad? Worst case, he might die."

No reply. Taking the silence as assent, a soft grip wrapped my hand.

"No objections? Cool, permission granted."

The red knot wrapping the hilt.

Shing.

Next instant, a sword emerged from the core.

"...「Sword of Salvation」?"

Someone murmured softly.

Yeah. No human alive today, regardless of borders or race, wouldn't know this blade.

It's the sword that gave countless people their 'today'—my mom's beloved weapon.

And with Mom's sword, I'll cut those bastards down.

Screeeeech!!

Mana of rotation coated the blade, tracing a helix in the air. That was enough.

"......?!"

Eh...?

The space-slicing, sound-devouring spiral beam ravaged the area. Dozens, hundreds of branches tore through—

First severing Milo Holt's right shoulder entirely,

Grk!?

Then shredding the slime's bloated body to the bone.

"Gasp...!"

The guild members behind gasped in horror at the destructive technique.

But those two weren't pushovers either. Milo barely dodged, merely losing an arm and tumbling away. The slime, rag-like, still clung to life.

"Proficiency [4] Storm Slash, and they tank it."

Makes sense. One's World Rank 13 mega ranker, the other's stronger than Cheonrang and rules this dungeon.

No expecting a one-shot.

So,

"Guess I'll have to shove the blade in personally."

BOOM!

I kicked off explosively, kicking up massive dust as I charged. First, the unpredictable slime.

Raising 「Sword of Salvation」 before the writhing thing—

Swish.

Killing intent streaked from nearby, grazing my spine.

"Not... without a fight...!"

Milo Holt. Down to one arm, gripping his gladius for a last stand.

I spared him a glance, then ignored him completely.

"I can handle trash like you with one arm tied!"

Anyway, not my job.

Flash!

A blaze of white light erupted in Milo's path. He winced and halted momentarily.

Opening his eyes to face it, confusion flooded his features.

"Paul...?"

The summoned spirit shimmered like a carved sun. But Milo would notice: the form resembled his brother exactly.

"P-Paul. Wh-what the hell hap—"

Crack!!

Guryeokmon's hands snapped Milo's neck 180 degrees.

Simultaneously, my plunging 「Sword of Salvation」—

Crunch!

Guh... uh...?!

—pierced the slime's gut, snuffing its life in one go.