The Ideal World (3)
“Y-you're insane!”
That was the first thing Han Jung-hyuk spat out after Choi Yun-seok forced him to his knees and demanded he confess his sins.
Instead of answering the questions, he unleashed a torrent of abuse at Yun-seok.
“D-do you think this is justice?”
Justice?
He had never once considered himself a vessel of justice.
“Then why do we have laws? Why do I even exist? You're just a psychopathic freak! You get that? Do you?!”
Being cursed at didn't bother him. But it wasn't an answer to the question.
Crack.
Yun-seok didn't ask again. He simply bent the man's finger with a flat, emotionless gaze.
Han Jung-hyuk writhed in agony unlike anything he'd ever felt in his life.
“Just kill me, you bastard!”
Unlike the upright, incorruptible image he'd boasted of, Han Jung-hyuk kept his mouth shut even through the pain.
Was it because, facing inevitable death, he didn't want to go out looking pathetic?
Of course, it didn't take long for him to change his mind.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
After snapping all ten fingers, Yun-seok sought out a challenger among the survivors who had healing skills.
He healed Han Jung-hyuk, then prepared to repeat the process.
That was the breaking point.
“...S-stop! I'll tell you everything! Just stop!”
Honor after death no longer mattered. Han Jung-hyuk confessed to everything he'd done: procuring underage prostitutes, lobbying judges, insider stock trading, taking bribes from construction firms...
How could he have so brazenly claimed to be pure and incorruptible?
Han Jung-hyuk was the type who saw others' sacrifices as a given, exploiting every ounce of his power for personal gain.
Before long, his tone had grown more deferential.
“I'll turn myself in at dawn! So...”
What would change if he turned himself in?
He'd get a slap on the wrist like always, the scandal would fade into obscurity, and he'd quietly walk free on parole.
A bitter taste filled Yun-seok's mouth.
How had the world twisted into this?
Were they right, and he the one in the wrong?
It was impossible to know anymore.
All he could do was lament.
How could a world let the truly deserving of death roam free?
The answer, in truth, was simple.
No one judged them.
Society's laws couldn't stop them.
And so it had come to this.
Slash!
Yun-seok's blade flashed, and Han Jung-hyuk's head rolled across the floor.
There were plenty more lined up for judgment tonight. He had no more time to waste on this one.
Yet Yun-seok didn't rush.
“What sins have you committed in your life?”
He listened intently to each one in turn, then mercilessly executed the guilty.
By the time no more questions remained, the sky outside was faintly lightening.
* * *
Time until return: 17:32:24
Yun-seok checked the time remaining until his return.
He had plenty of AP, so even if time ran out, he could just buy another ticket and come back.
But it was time to start tying up loose ends.
“...”
Tonight, the Korean Challenger Management Bureau had been utterly crushed.
Even if the survivors tried to regroup, it would take ages.
But since Yun-seok couldn't stay here forever, he couldn't just leave his parents in Korea without precautions.
“You said you're from America, right?”
He addressed a woman huddled among the survivors.
Her name, appearance, and upbringing were all Korean, but she was an operative from an American challenger organization.
“Y-yes! B-but...?”
She trembled violently.
And with good reason. Yun-seok wasn't swayed by America's prestige.
During the endless judgment, she and her colleagues had screamed about their American ties, begging for mercy—but he'd ignored them.
She was the only one who'd survived by confessing everything.
“I'd like to speak to someone higher up. Can you make that happen?”
“...”
She hesitated, then nodded.
She pulled out her smartphone and dialed.
After a few rings, it connected, and she spoke rapidly in English.
From the nuance, she was reassuring them she was alive, then explaining the situation.
Soon, she cautiously handed over the phone.
-Is this the Masked Lord?
No language barrier. It wasn't even real English—it translated itself upon hearing.
“...Pahur?”
-So it is you...
“Why are you the one answering?”
-The Director asked me to. If it's an issue, I can transfer.
Yun-seok considered briefly, then said it was fine.
Talking to the Director would involve interpreters anyway, and Pahur seemed easier to deal with.
Besides, handing the call to him in this situation implied significant authority.
-Before I hear why you're calling, one question first?
“Sure.”
-I heard you killed everyone but one of ours. Are you set on making enemies of us?
“Not at all.”
-Then why kill them?
Yun-seok paused, then replied.
“Because they weren't worth keeping alive.”
A heavy silence fell over the line.
Yun-seok couldn't guess Pahur's thoughts in that moment.
But whatever they were, no condemnation followed.
-...I see. Understood. My question's done—now, why the call?
“A few requests.”
-Requests? Alright, let's hear them.
Yun-seok calmly stated his terms. Three in total.
Keep his name out of the incident.
Publicly disclose Tower of Heaven info to prevent repeats in the shadows.
Secretly protect his parents' daily lives.
Noise erupted on the other end as he finished.
Even with Yun-seok's basic English, the curses were clear enough.
-Uh... This is the Director speaking through me. Why should we?
Pahur had softened it, but it was probably laced with profanity.
Fair enough. Over two hundred dead in one night—politicians, CEOs, their agents.
Making such demands now? Absurd without a deal.
But Yun-seok had none to offer.
“If not, I'll come find you.”
-...
“Could you relay that to everyone there?”
He didn't elaborate what he'd do.
Just that.
Silence, then more commotion.
-Again, Director's words: You dare threaten us? Come find us? You don't even know where we are. Torturing Isabella won't help.
Did the operative not know the location either?
Unlike Korea, they hid their base thoroughly.
Yun-seok was unfazed.
“Your president would know. Just grab him and ask.”
Security was tight, but presidents' schedules were public—easy to find online.
The Director went quiet at the absurd threat.
Could they stop Yun-seok from kidnapping the president on U.S. soil?
Clearly calculating.
Then voices: the Director's unintelligible, but Pahur's clear: “If I had to fight the Masked Lord, I'd flee to the Tower first. At least you respawn there a few times.”
Pahur translated next.
-Good. He accepts your terms. But someday, you'll do us a favor in return?
America's last pride—no negotiating with terrorists.
“If it's not unreasonable, sure.”
-Then we'll need Isabella to explain the situation. Switch?
She'll help you.
Yun-seok handed the phone back to the woman.
Had she pieced it together? She spoke briefly in English, hung up, then drove them to the American branch in Korea.
Soon after, his parents stirred in bed.
* * *
His parents hadn't been drugged unconscious—it was forced sleep via Tower tech.
A challenger at the branch dispelled the status effect, and they woke as if nothing happened.
If they'd been critically injured beneath the surface, he'd have rushed back to the Tower for a fix—but they were fine. A relief.
“Wh-where... is this...?”
The American challengers, as prepped, gave a simple explanation: burglars broke in, they got hurt and hospitalized.
Waking in the branch's clinic left no room for doubt.
Yun-seok watched invisibly as they talked.
He confirmed their discharge, and an American tailing them for protection.
No full certainty they'd keep the promise after he left.
They wouldn't bet everything on such a gamble—but people were unpredictable.
Still, Yun-seok shadowed briefly, then vanished silently.
Lingering worry might make them suspicious.
They needed to know: kidnapping his parents wouldn't control him—it'd just cost them dearly.
“...”
For the remaining time, Yun-seok wandered Seoul invisibly.
Despite the night's chaos, the world spun on unchanged.
People hurried, too busy for anything beyond their own lives.
He glanced at a restaurant TV.
Corruption scandals, rage-fueled murders, drunk drivers shattering families, hooded criminals soon paroled after unspeakable crimes.
Typical morning news.
“...”
Yun-seok bit his lip.
Even after so many deaths, it wasn't enough.
The world hadn't budged.
Too many deserved death.
He wanted to stay on Earth as long as AP allowed, culling them.
But he couldn't.
Not sure if this rage was Blood Demon Divine Art's side effect.
So he'd release the binding first.
Return, see the world anew.
If the feelings matched...
Then he'd embrace it gladly.
A new era needed new laws.