Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: The Reactionary, the Egoist, and the Commie (5)
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The sudden interrogation(?) proceeded in a gentle atmosphere.
Josef and the Brute had suggested breaking a limb or two, but Yeomyeong refused.
Was it because he seemed friendly with Ballagu? That was certainly part of it, but more than anything, it was thanks to the knight Dovan opening up so willingly.
There was no need to break limbs, let alone torture him. The moment alcohol touched his lips, classified information poured out smoothly.
"Uh... weird... stuff? His Lordship is... burp— weird as always?"
"Not that kind of thing. Recently, has he done anything out of the ordinary, like suddenly appointing unfamiliar people... something like that."
Yeomyeong poured him a beer and asked.
Dovan stared down at his beer glass, face red all the way to his nose, then bit into a potato before answering.
"If it's weird people... Lady Ekaterina?"
"...Ekaterina? Who's that?"
"A knight who wields a spear as big as a person's torso... incredibly strong... beautiful... and..."
"...And?"
"No matter how I think about it... she seems like an Earthling."
"..."
Earthling? Well, the name Ekaterina was Russian-style from the start, so the odds were high.
As Ballagu started to say something, Dovan added on.
"His Lordship hates Earthlings... burp— weird, right?"
"..."
"Sometimes it even looks like His Lordship is bowing to her... maybe she's from some great background...?"
Just as his rambling started to drag on, Ballagu cut in.
"Besides her, has the South Palace Lord himself been acting strange at all?"
Dovan shrugged.
"His Lordship is... always weird, I tell you? Doesn't give a damn about the city, just holes up in the palace... ah, right."
Mid-sentence, he seemed to remember something and slammed his glass down.
"...Come to think of it, he hasn't made preparations this year."
"Preparations for what?"
"The Emperor's birthday."
The Emperor's birthday. Yeomyeong was familiar with the term.
The public holiday of the empire beyond the dimensional gate—the birthday of the emperor currently ruling it.
"Every year on the birthday, he'd send gifts until he went broke... burp— this year he threw a fit about ordering dinosaur bones... but in the end, did jack squat for prep."
"...Dinosaur bones? That's peculiar."
"Well... silver lining. Burp— the railroad got smashed anyway, so the gift couldn't have gone through this year."
"..."
Yeomyeong's eyes turned ice-cold.
It was a glare so vicious that Ballagu, sitting beside him, flinched without realizing it—but Dovan, face buried in his glass, just kept talking.
"That guy's got luck on his side... burp— gotta have luck to climb high, huh? Like he knew the railroad was gonna get wrecked ahead of time?"
With that, tempted by the snacks, Dovan stabbed into a whole can of fried Spam.
An oily scent wafted through the air as Yeomyeong mulled things over.
Then Dovan's gaze suddenly drifted toward Seti, seated across the inn.
"...Even the waitresses here are cute. Hey, miss! Bring some beer over here!"
Ballagu's face twisted in horror, but Seti said nothing, grabbed a beer bottle, and approached the table.
The moment Seti drew near, Dovan reached out for her butt and asked.
"Cute thing, how much for the night?"
Utterly standard behavior in this city.
But the people gathered here weren't city dwellers, and their reactions weren't typical of city folk either.
The instant Dovan's hand was about to touch Seti's butt.
BAM!
Yeomyeong seized the back of Dovan's head and smashed his face straight into the table.
The force was so brutal the rickety table cracked with a splintering sound. Dovan went limp without even a scream.
The sudden noise drew stares from Josef and the rest of the group toward Yeomyeong, but he tossed Dovan to the floor like it was nothing.
"...He dead?"
Ballagu peered down at his tactless friend and asked. Yeomyeong shrugged.
"Didn't kill him. Got some useful intel... he'll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning though."
"Good to hear. Be a shame if he croaked like this."
Yeomyeong dropped a parting line about how they shouldn't meet here next time, then rose from his seat.
Unlike the somewhat heavier mood, Seti smirked and jabbed Yeomyeong in the side.
"You don't know the meaning of restraint. Restraint."
"...That was restrained."
The two traded such words as they headed up to the second floor. Once they were fully out of sight.
Neti, munching on potatoes, muttered.
"Solos gotta suffer somewhere, huh."
***
Yeomyeong opened his eyes in someone else's dream for the first time in ages.
It was easy to tell it was someone else's dream.
He'd closed his eyes in bed, only to open them in a pitch-black sewer.
Why pop into someone else's dream out of nowhere? Maybe Mignium's idea of a prank—but he quickly brushed the thought aside.
Mignium's tastes skewed more toward the grandiose than dingy sewers like this.
'Let's see the face of whoever's screwing around.'
With that in mind, he wandered the dream sewer for a while.
Then, from the darkness ahead, someone spoke up.
"...It connects, as expected."
A red-haired, one-armed elf—that was his striking feature.
What was his name again? As Yeomyeong cocked his head, the elf added.
"I'm Pinel. Cheon Yeomyeong."
"...Pleased to meet you, Pinel."
"Less surprised than I expected. Used to this kind of thing?"
It was ambiguous—was he used to entering others' dreams, or meeting people in dreams?
Yeomyeong shrugged in lieu of an answer.
Pinel stared at him steadily, then let out a deep sigh.
"This is the World Tree's dream. Only elves, or those acknowledged by the World Tree, can enter."
"...I'm no elf, and I don't remember getting acknowledged by the World Tree?"
"Yeah. That's the issue."
The elf turned his back. He didn't say "follow me," but Yeomyeong trailed after him at a leisurely pace anyway.
Sewer water sloshed underfoot as the elf abruptly asked.
"Cheon Yeomyeong, do you know what the World Tree is?"
...Just a big tree? Yeomyeong swallowed the words that rose to his throat and shook his head.
"Just know the name."
"The World Tree... hmm, not sure if this phrasing fits, but it's a bridge linking reality and unreality."
"..."
"Elves use its power to share dreams with each other. That's why we can fundamentally understand one another, unlike humans."
Brand-new information. Nothing like this in documentaries or textbooks.
"...Why tell me all this?"
"Because our dreams connected. I can share at least this much with a human acknowledged by the World Tree."
"...?"
"You look lost, but... you've already connected dreams with other elves before, haven't you?"
Connected dreams with other elves? No way...
Then it hit him—the dream where he'd confronted his own killing intent.
The killing intent he'd met there had Miridis's exact appearance. Too perfect a coincidence to chalk up to chance.
"..."
Whether Yeomyeong fell silent or not, Pinel pressed on with his explanation.
"Well, you're not the first. Before America invaded us... the World Tree acknowledged non-elf races from time to time."
"I see."
"Yeah. The last one was Border White."
Border White. Yeomyeong figured that tracked. Legendary hero who'd fought off America and defended the land—not just anywhere, but there.
Of course, the land he'd saved ended up French on paper via one sheet.
"So, why connect your dream to mine? Because I turned down the East Palace Lord's offer and left...?"
"...No, not that. Bikof was pretty bummed, but it's got nothing to do with me."
Nothing to do with him? Meaning they weren't allies? Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes and pressed.
"Then?"
"To peek into reality from a dream, two's better than one. Like having two eyes."
"...Peek into reality?"
Yeomyeong halted, baffled by the words—right then.
A brilliant light flashed from deeper in the sewer.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the brief glare, then opened them to a completely altered dreamscape.
No trace of the sewer from moments ago—it was now some unidentified, stark-white room, 180 degrees opposite.
The walls were packed floor-to-ceiling with massive glass tubes, evoking a cheap horror flick's lab.
But what truly stood out was something else.
The source of that light.
"...World Tree Crystal."
Floating smack in the room's center, it dwarfed the fingernail-sized shard Darulma had given him in Manchuria—by orders of magnitude.
Fist-sized for an adult man? No—at least basketball-sized.
As Yeomyeong gazed at the pale green glow and unconsciously reached out, Pinel grabbed him.
"Don't touch it. You'll wake up."
"..."
Pinel offered no further explanation, quietly scanning the room. More precisely, the glass tubes lining the walls.
Yeomyeong followed his gaze to the tubes, where familiar figures bobbed in suspension.
Long snouts, shaggy black fur, grotesque tails, massive front teeth—Ratkin.
Every last one identical to the Ratkin he'd swept away in the sewer just days ago.
No—upon closer look, not just similar. Exact copies.
'Cloned humans...? Or cloned beastmen, in this case.'
As Yeomyeong sorted his thoughts, Pinel spoke up while eyeing the final tube.
"As expected—they're culturing Ratkin using the World Tree's mana."
"...Culturing beastmen? Why bother with something so pointless? Not like they're selling the meat."
"Meat would've been preferable. These are soldiers."
"..."
"You wiped out the Ratkin huddled in the sewer last time, so you saw—they were the ones training for combat."
Soldiers? Thinking back, the Ratkin had been marching in formation through the sewer.
Right—not just gathered. Marching.
'...A march?'
Why? Beastmen soldiers were so inefficient even the modern U.S. military had scrapped the idea.
As Yeomyeong pondered, Pinel offered an excuse.
"Now that I mention it... Ratkin blood stench mixed with World Tree mana. Can't blame me for getting suspicious."
"..."
Excuses after the fact for the sneak attack? Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes.
"Isn't that separate from coming at me with a sword? Come to think of it, I got an apology but no compensation."
The word "compensation" made Pinel shrug his remaining shoulder.
"Compensation? If you want it, collect directly from our captain later."
"...Just say you don't wanna give it."
"No, I'm dead serious. A human acknowledged by the World Tree after all this time—our captain will..."
"will..."
"..."
"..."
That instant.
The elf's voice no longer reached Yeomyeong's ears.
To put it precisely, every sense drowned beneath a single sound. His vision blurred, the hairs on his body stood on end.
A familiar sensation.
Yeomyeong scowled and turned toward the World Tree Crystal.
The crystal had no eyes, yet Yeomyeong felt their stares meet. He just knew.
And the next moment.
—Who are you? Another weirdo?
The same eerie voice as the one from the World Tree Crystal he'd consumed in Manchuria called out to him.
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