Chapter 185 – Lee Do-won (5)

One by one.

As I explored the area, several people emerged and began to encircle me.

“…….”

There was a strangely blurred magical energy, and quite a few people, so I had only been suspicious so far.

Can I be grateful that they’ve exposed themselves like this? Rather than retreating, I take a step forward.

There are dozens of storage containers. I’m not sure what they contain, but I see some rather large trucks used for loading and unloading. The gaze of my opponents, piercing my skin, is brimming with hostility.

– Jeobeok, Jeobuck.

I walk deeper.

The eyes of those gathering around me slowly change, and my nerves focus on their pockets.

The characteristics of the fluctuating magical energy are unlike any I have seen before. Although it has a certain direction, like a turbid stream, there are parts that shake awkwardly.

It’s a peculiar magic that can only be seen in Flowers.

-Jerbuck.

I continued walking and stood right in the middle of them.

The men of the Flower, hiding against the walls or openly gazing at me.

They might have asked who I was, but they seemed to have no intention of approaching me, feigning normalcy, and telling me to leave. Regardless, the outcome would have likely been the same.

As my thoughts came to an end, a young man emerged from a container.

His face appeared healthy and strong. However, his eyes lacked life, and a faint scent of burnt tobacco emanated from him.

I walked towards the door from which the man had appeared. The distance between us became so close that I could touch him with an outstretched hand.

“…Who are you? Huh—ack!”

The moment the man spoke—

I grabbed his face, pushed him into the container, and closed the door. Seeing the robed figures inside, a sardonic smile crept onto my lips.

“There’s quite a few of you.”

-Bang!

I threw the man against the opposite wall of the container.

A deafening crash erupted as the man collided with another, his skull caved in, eyes rolled back, trembling violently before collapsing beneath the wall.

-Kkiik thump!

The sound of the door slamming shut was like a bolt of lightning. I let the doorknob slip from my grasp and wordlessly hurled it before them.

-Tak, Grrr.

The doorknob, marred with handprints from being wrenched off, spun and rolled before coming to a halt.

-Kkigigigi.

The door, its hinges torn away, toppled over.

-Thud!

The moment the wrecked door hit the ground, wariness crept into the expressions of those clad in robes.

“Flower.”

Visions of the future flickered like a panorama across my eyes.

Coagulated blood. Frigid skin. Eyelashes falling one by one. The inexplicably vanished phone book. The tender message from my future self that remained, pleading for contact. The last message I had sent to my mentor. The person’s face, frozen in a smile, so lifeless that it was hard to even tell if they were dead.

“Is that right?”

Tuck, Tuck.

It seemed as if one could hear the blood vessels bursting in their eyes. The cold, submerged mind slowly stirred the heart, as though it had been waiting for this moment.

Thump, thump, thump. The loud pounding of the heart echoed in the ears. The tinnitus experienced during the funeral now brushed past, awakening the senses. A blunt emotion lodged in the throat, unable to be contained, it burst forth from the lips.

“Right?”

A foot kicked one of the scattered wooden beams. The plank that seemed to swirl through the air was deftly caught in the hand.

– Sssssssssssss.

Members of the Flower organization held swords and short wands in their grasp. They aimed at one another, as if their lives depended on it.

Yet, no one dared to attack. They merely observed one another, gauging expressions and demeanors.

“…”

There were no words exchanged amongst them. No one inquired about the others’ identities; they simply recognized each other as enemies.

– Rattle.

The blade of one of the individuals before me quivered. The sight struck me as rather absurd.

‘You all are human too.’

Indeed.
These individuals likely have families. Siblings, too. The parents who brought them into this world must have raised them with love.
Even if they were orphans, there would be those who cherished friendships with them. Perhaps they’ve experienced moments of happiness through love or similar emotions.

Such is the nature of life.
Even those who participate in the most heinous acts of terrorism are no different.

I know.
My father was the same.

That was the expression on my father’s face when stories about him began to circulate in internet articles and newspapers.

-Step.

I took a single step forward.

All the people clad in robes walked towards me.
As my field of view expanded, each of their faces appeared all too ordinary.
In their contorted expressions, an elemental bloodlust melded seamlessly with their mundane features.

-Step.

Another step forward.

-Cha-hak!

Lay down the wooden beam.

Blood splattered haphazardly on the window like flower petals scattered without a pattern.

People collapsing like wooden puppets with severed strings.
With their arms and legs bent unnaturally backward, they were dead in the very spots they had stood.

Stepping into the shadows.

Awakening in a deep, blood-scented sea.
The feeling of terror just before opening one’s eyes while submerged.
Yet, once surfaced, the pain isn’t as intense.

That’s the perfect analogy for experiencing the dark side of society.
Under normal circumstances, I would have adapted gradually. However, I had already committed dozens of murders under the Heavenly Demon.
I tossed the wooden beam onto the container floor.

-Thump!

The floor dented, and the beam shattered.
I tucked away my turbulent emotions deep within my heart and walked out through the broken door.

The wind was surprisingly refreshing.

As my feet left the container’s interior, my body quivered slightly.

The disturbance inside didn’t last long.

*Click.*

A silenced pistol and a sword unwiped of congealed blood relentlessly approached me.

Despite knowing the situation was dire, not a single person attempted to flee. Although they had the faces of criminals, their mental fortitude was commendable. Perhaps they had been thoroughly trained, or maybe Flower held their minds in a vice-like grip. It had to be one or the other.

“Who are you?” a man asked.

“What does it matter?” I scoffed at his question.

“…”

I wasn’t foolish enough to go around broadcasting my name.

“Are you Flower?” I countered with the same question.

“…”

The man remained consistently silent. I had turned on a recording device, just in case. It turned out to be a rather clever idea.

If these people refuse to recognize Flower, I’ll simply become a murderer. It’s incredibly easy to spread the news to the media.

A murder case within the factory. Dozens of corpses discovered, causing shock and horror. Naturally, they would try to find the perpetrator, and if it were an ordinary person, they would be caught immediately.

I approached the man with the burn marks. Once again, without fail, the sound of gunfire came from the opposing side.

– Taang!

The sound of gunpowder exploding, followed by a shout from the gun. The red-hot barrel. Streaks are drawn across the space.

In the sunlit factory zone, a shadow in the shape of a human was sliced in half.

* * * * * * * *

“…So?”

“Death by a series of explosions. That’s how it was reported.”

The man wearing a robe calmly relayed the information.

An explosive event. The remnants of magic and enchanted water intermingled, incinerating the surrounding area without sparing a single blade of grass. The resulting human and property damage is quite severe.

“Is that so?”

A man with a circular pattern etched around his nose wore a sour expression.

“I heard he was alone… quite a skilled fellow.”

The terror weapon employed by Flower. In the past, traces of magical energy similar to the characteristics of the explosion during the Ent incident were left behind.

Somehow, someone had forced a similar explosion to occur once more.

Naturally, the police observed the signs of magic and linked them to previous events. Consequently, the investigation was confirmed as an act of terror by Flower.

“Heh, are we setting fire to our own food supply?”

Cistus, the subordinate of the Third Leaf.

Tuberose, the livestock manager.

He ran his fingers through his feverish hair and tossed the documents at the man before him.

“…Fine. Money rots anyway, so it’s not a big deal. It’s not like processed water is the only thing obtainable there.”

It’s safe to say that a significant percentage of the world’s capital is being drawn into the Flower industry, but can a mere factory fire be considered a major event?

However, being bested by a single foe without even managing to fight back is difficult to accept, making it a bitter pill to swallow. Tuberose gritted her teeth and approached the man, giving his shoulder a slight push.

– Thud!

The powerless man flew back and crashed into the wall.

“Guh, kuh.”

“Be more cautious next time. Handle it on your own. If you tarnish our reputation again… I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Ah, understood.”

Tuberose left her office, pulling on her back, and descended to the basement.

Unlocking the door with an iron key, she was met with the thick, intoxicating scent of flowers that brushed against her nose. A wicked smile spread across her face.

“If one bag of money goes missing, we can always make more here.”

Countless female wood nymphs, shackled in iron cuffs, trapped and losing their senses in one confinement.
Each of them bore a flower upon their heads.

Tuberose fetched two pills from a nearby desk and approached a woman.
Her hair gleamed with a fiery hue – she was an apple tree nymph.

“Goodness… they’ve used too much. I told those rascals to use it sparingly, lest the value of the product diminish.”

He produced a syringe, loaded the first pill into it, and shook it to expel any air.

“Alright, there you go. Have you been waiting?”

He inserted the syringe and injected the medicine.

In that instant, flowers burst forth from the apple tree nymph’s head.
Upon injecting the other drug, this time fruit began to grow on her head.

The sole method of plucking countless flowers that would never bloom naturally in one’s lifetime.
The flowers and fruits of the female wood nymphs held immense value simply by existing.
Rumors circulated that they could indeed enhance one’s abilities. As for the flowers, merely steeping and drinking them offered health benefits.

There was a reason the wealthy often dwelled in extravagance.

‘Such peculiar creatures. It all started with simple drugs. They sought happiness and ended up imprisoned by their own volition.’

Administering the drugs in succession, Tuberose cast her cold gaze downward.

All the tree people present here once enjoyed the esteemed treatment of nobility. However, they were now no more than forsaken outcasts in this world. Their classification was quite straightforward:

Tree people who were stripped of their noble status by the World Tree’s command.
Or those who fell from grace amidst vicious family feuds, only to find refuge in this place.
Women who were caught committing unspeakable acts upon young boys, who later escaped and were apprehended again while hiding in the shadows.

All of them started as ‘customers’ seeking to escape reality, only to willingly become ‘products’… people whose very existence was currency.

Many were pitiful, insect-like women.

Tuberose served as the left hand of an executive named Cistus, who was in charge of managing this wretched place.

“Tuberose.”

“…So you come unannounced like this?”

An icy remark from a young child behind Tuberose’s back.

“They say some trouble occurred this time.”
“Yes.”

The girl’s face, delicate and fragile, as if it would break if held in one’s hand, radiated an oppressive aura that was difficult to endure.

Even this was an avatar of Sistus.
None of Sistus’s subordinates had ever met his true form.

Because of this, there were hard-to-believe rumors circulating.
The whispers spoke of how Sistus concealed his true self within his avatars, and the moment any negligence was discovered, a life would be severed on the spot.

Tuberose laughed awkwardly.

“You know what I’m going to say, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Prepare the sacrifices for creating the avatar.”

Sacrifices for the purpose of creating an avatar.
Ten young children.

No matter how despicable he was, even Tuberose had his limits.
Seeing the tear-streaked faces of living children left him feeling uneasy.

Even if these human chattel are the ones who ruined their own lives and sought refuge in drugs.

Most of the children are abducted from impoverished areas.

Or they use the offspring of those who engage in prostitution.

“And—if there’s a slip-up, you take action yourself.”

The involvement of the third-highest-ranking officer, and his direct subordinate, might signal a declaration of war for the Hunter Association.

Knowing that, Sistus still compelled him to intervene. A combative executive. And that’s why he’s appreciated. It’s the first time he’s utilized someone who only knows how to manufacture drugs and frequent brothel districts.

“Yes.”

Tuberose bowed his head. His eyes were filled with unyielding madness, unwavering determination, and not a trace of doubt.