There Is No World For ■■
Chapter 172: For Whom the Bag Opens (3)

* * *

“Everyone, get dow—!”

The moment he heard Seti’s shout, Yeomyeong took action immediately, kicking off the ground and drawing his sword.

Following the flash of the blade, the flow of time accelerated for Yeomyeong. His thoughts outpaced his senses, capturing the incoming spears simultaneously.

Five spears were flying toward his party; two of them aimed at the Saintess.

It didn’t take him long to make a decision. Envisioning the optimal route to block the spears, Yeomyeong thrust his sword like lightning.

The sword, enhanced with Sword Aura, sliced through the shaft of the foremost spear and moved forward.

Before the fragments of the broken spear could scatter, Yeomyeong chanted a spell and aimed it at the next spear.

Crunch! Telekinesis redirected the second spear while Yeomyeong’s sword collided with the blade of the third spear.

The magic imbued in the spearhead clashed with his Sword Aura, causing the sword to tremble violently. But instead of enduring the shock, Yeomyeong let it go and twisted his body slightly.

Fortunately, the fourth spear was heading straight toward him. It narrowly grazed his earlobe as it flew past.

Though it didn’t make direct contact, it left a long cut on his cheek in its wake and lopped off part of his ear.

Gritting his teeth, Yeomyeong threw himself at the last spear, reaching out desperately.

Yet the spear brushed past the tips of his fingers indifferently.

As Yeomyeong collapsed to the ground, he heard the sound of the spear piercing someone’s body.

He didn’t need to turn around to realize what had happened.

His heightened senses revealed that Seti had pushed the Saintess aside at the last moment, taking the spear in her place, her breathing growing gradually weaker.

A ringing sound filled his head, as if he was just struck by a hammer.

Silence took hold of him, his mouth unable to form words.

Before the silence could stretch any longer, a scream tore it apart.

NOOOOOO! Unnie! Seti—

And amidst those screams, the decadent voice of a woman was heard.

“…Geeezz, what a shame.”

Yeomyeong sprang to his feet immediately, charging toward the direction of the voice—the source of the spears.

As Ekaterina’s face drew closer rapidly, Yeomyeong raised a fist and struck her right in the face.

Bang—!

The translucent barrier in front of her blocked his fist briefly before shattering in the next moment.

Yeomyeong’s fist landed squarely on Ekaterina’s face.

Thanks to her mana, her face didn’t explode, but that was the extent of the defense she could muster. Her neck twisted unnaturally with a sickening crack under the massive impact.

Yet she still didn’t die. Even with her head twisted, she burst into laughter.

“Ah, I guess that was your lover, huh?”

A blatant provocation. Yeomyeong didn’t even bother suppressing his Killing Aura.

“Well, at least I managed to get something out of this.”

Perhaps because those five spears had drained her of all her strength, Ekaterina made no attempt to resist.

“Kid, usually, in battles like this…”

She seemed ready to taunt him further, but Yeomyeong didn’t give her the opportunity.

He slashed at her with his Hand Blade, punched through, grabbed, and twisted her apart.

Without allowing any resistance or mockery, he continued his relentless assault until her body showed no traces of a human shape.

And finally, what was once Ekaterina collapsed with a splat into a pool of blood.

Yet, Yeomyeong’s rage did not subside. His gaze pierced through the iron door, fixated on the corridor beyond.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the hall… Surely, they belonged to the Southern Count Palatine attempting to flee the scene.

However, just as Yeomyeong was about to pursue him, he stopped abruptly. The Saintess’ sobs kept his feet rooted in place.

“Seti, please, please…!”

The icy clarity of reason pierced through the haze of rage and Killing Aura.

His limbs grew weak, his breathing unsteady.

Turning toward Seti, Yeomyeong found himself speechless at the sight of her impaled by a spear lodged deep in her abdomen.

And no matter how much he strained his ears, he could not hear Seti’s heartbeat.

All he could hear was the relentless pounding of his own heart.

The Saintess beside him desperately channeled healing miracles, squeezing every drop of mana she had, but to no avail.

After all, even a Saintess could not resurrect someone whose heart had been destroyed.

Yeomyeong felt a surreal dissonance, as though trapped in a dream. Was this reality?

No screams, no wails spilled from his lips.

He didn’t even hear the Saintess’s tears falling like rain, wetting her blindfold, nor Neti’s howls of despair.

Everything seemed numb and distant.

Yeomyeong sat beside Seti, placing a trembling hand on her cheek. Her body, once alive with warmth, was slowly losing its final traces of life and turning cold.

And once that warmth vanished, she would be gone forever.

“…Seti.”

With great difficulty, he managed to force out a single word. Staring at her closed eyes for a moment, he then turned his gaze toward a shadow lingering in the corner of the control room.

Locking eyes with the shadow, Yeomyeong inhaled sharply.

If he were to plead with Mignium to save Seti at this very moment…

Mignium would undoubtedly grant his request. But in return, she would demand an exorbitant tribute.

Would she demand the lives of dozens of innocent people?

Or perhaps she might even request him to let loose the nuclear weapon beneath his feet, taking the lives of tens of thousands—or perhaps even millions.

Seti’s life weighed against the lives of countless innocent people he didn’t even know.

Weighing the two options in his mind, Yeomyeong shut his eyes as the depth of his anguish brought back the words of the World Tree

- Just as we once did, you too will soon have to weigh the weight of life. Hundreds of millions, or perhaps, something even more extreme. Billions versus one.

Was this the moment the World Tree had spoken of? The moment when he would be forced to weigh lives against one another?

He clenched his teeth. Choosing many over one was undoubtedly the right decision.

However, what if that one was Seti?

Rather than enduring the solitude without her, it would be better to kill a million.

Losing family once was enough. And why should he sacrifice his own for strangers he would never know?

Also, what if the price Mignium asked was something small, something bearable?

Yes, let’s beg for Mignium’s mercy! That was the wisest course of action.

Having reached a conclusion, Yeomyeong turned toward the shadow.

“Mignium, I offer you everything…”

He was unable to finish the sentence as Miridith’s voice rang in his mind.

I trust your choice.

Yeomyeong shifted his gaze away from the shadow and toward the Saintess.

Her face was a mess. Her tear-soaked blindfold had slipped off halfway, and blood streamed down her eyes, nose, and mouth from the excessive mana exertion.

Yet, despite all this, she hadn’t given up.

And instead of calling on god, she was calling out Seti’s name, pouring her very being into her efforts.

Yeomyeong looked down at Seti once more, staring at her serene, closed eyes before closing his own.

Aware of his own pride, he delved deep within himself.

Not Mignium, not the World Tree—he sought the answer from within his own heart.

Seti’s warmth was yet to fade completely. He still had time.

* * *

In a corner of the control room, where Yeomyeong and his group were immersed in sorrow, Bykov was crawling across the floor silently.

His broken, mangled body screamed in agony, but his unyielding resolve for a revolution propelled him forward.

If only he could reach the iron door, summon his legion of Rat beastfolk, and escape…

I can make it out alive.

He sneered inwardly. Who would have ever imagined the Southern Count Palatine, that fool would prove to be useful at such a critical moment?

Even leftover bread can be used to make kvass¹, he mused. This moment embodied that saying perfectly.

But Bykov knew his time was limited. He had to somehow open the iron door before Cheon Yeomyeong and the others regained their senses.

Leaving behind a long trail of blood, Bykov dragged himself closer to the door.

And once he reached it, instead of recklessly summoning his Rat Beastfolks, he tapped on the iron door in Morse code.

- *Rescue me. Immediately.*

Relief washed over him as he heard the commotion coming from beyond the door. It seemed an officer-level Rat Beastfolk had managed to understand his signal.

The squeaking of rats filled the air as the iron door slowly creaked open, creating a gap wide enough for a person to slip through.

Seeing the opening, Bykov wore a victor’s smile.

The revolution would now begin.

Soon, the capital of the Empire would be set ablaze, and his comrades scattered across the globe would rise in unison.

In place of Moscow’s trash, he would revive the true Soviet Union on this very land—

And as Bykov was being escorted out by the Rat Beastfolks, dreaming of a sweet future, the world came to a halt.

First, the hands of the Rat Beastfolks carrying him froze mid-motion.

Next, the telekinetic girl’s anguished cries and the Saintess’s tearful prayers came to an abrupt stop.

What… what is this…?

Fear and confusion gripped Bykov as he swallowed hard.

Within the frozen time, Cheon Yeomyeong began to stir. In the stillness of time, he slowly rose from his seat, as if he were the only exception.

Then, a massive shadow stretched across the control room floor, writhing and expanding until it engulfed everything in sight, as if the shadow sought to shield the events that were about to unfold from all prying eyes.

An inexplicable dread consumed Bykov. He wanted to avert his gaze, but his immobilized body refused to obey his commands.

His sealed lips trembled with a silent scream.

What in the world is happening? Someone, please cover my eyes! Oh, Marx, please!

A moment later, his wish was granted. The instant Yeomyeong opened his eyes, offering his left one as a sacrifice, an unspeakable entity extended its hand—reaching out from a place where no light shined.

* * *

Enlightenment was like a dream—only after it had passed would you realize it had come.

“You… You bastard, I clearly remember cutting your throat—?”

The player’s final words.

『Never compromise. The gods of this land are watching you.』

Mignium’s last advice.

- *Inventory... take out... Elix...*

And even the words the janitor uttered back when he was inside the Arcane Relic.

Countless words flowed by in a space where the lines between enlightenment and dreams were blurred.

However, Yeomyeong did not look back at the passing words.

It was enough to not forget. To ruminate, chew over, and remember, forging ahead.

And thus, he came face to face with the bag within himself.

The first thing he saw was a grotesque leather bag made from the Player’s skin. It snarled, baring teeth in place of a zipper and spitting out curses.

As Yeomyeong drew closer, the bag’s appearance changed.

This time, it was the money bag he had used to carry the cash after killing the Operation Director. It vomited bills adorned with Benjamin Franklin’s face and screamed.

He took another step.

This time, it was a body bag from his time as a janitor.

Then, another step.

The weapons bag that he bought at the black market.

Another step.

The book bag from the academy.

And finally, the weapon bag Mr. Jangman had packed for him when he left Incheon.

“…Yes, this bag is the most precious one.”

As Yeomyeong said those words and grabbed the bag’s handle, a torrent of information flooded his mind.

Giant’s Strength Elixir, trinkets, the Lehrac Household’s hidden treasure, the Dimensional Portal guard’s employee badge, a gangster’s ID, golden scarab shells, palace blueprints…

From trivial knick-knacks to tools of crime, and even priceless treasures.

The names of dozens, no, hundreds of items the Player had amassed organized themselves in his mind.

However, it was anything but convenient. Yeomyeong felt the horrible sensation of his brain being kneaded and his veins twisting in agony.

Though he felt like he might faint at any moment, he bit his tongue and clenched his fists.

If this pain was the price he had to pay to revive Seti, he was willing to endure it.

…How much time had passed? A time that was both long and short came and went before his torment finally ended.

Yeomyeong opened his eyes slowly. The bag that had been before him was gone, but he didn’t care. After all, that bag had already settled firmly in his heart.

The Player’s all-purpose subspace, the so-called inventory.

Within it, surely…

Acting on that thought, Yeomyeong reached out to ‘grab’ the empty air.

Immediately, a small glass bottle appeared in his hand. Plain and unadorned.

Even the liquid inside looked like clear water, so ordinary that it could be easily mistaken for mere tap water.

Yet, thanks to the memories he had just absorbed, Yeomyeong knew the truth. This potion was none other than an Elixir.

It could suppress aging, extend one’s life, and even bring the dead back to life.

It was a priceless treasure the Player had hoarded and cherished until the end without being able to use it because Yeomyeong had severed his arm.

To steal his enemy’s precious treasure to save his family—was this not the ultimate act of vengeance?

With that thought, Yeomyeong awakened from his enlightenment.

And what greeted him upon opening his eyes was an entirely unexpected presence.

[Player! I cannot allow you to twist the scenario any further!]

A massive red arm emerged from Bykov’s eye, piercing through the frozen world to descend upon Yeomyeong.

Footnotes

1. 1. Kvass is a fermented, cereal-based, low-alcoholic beverage of cloudy appearance and sweet-sour taste.

   Kvass originates from northeastern Europe, where grain production was considered insufficient for beer to become a daily drink.