Chapter 320: Can You Guess Why I Prepared Such a Tall Streetlight?
"You're not wrong," "Evol" said, stroking his chin with a look of mock contemplation. "Indeed, much of what I've done… is exactly for the reasons you've just spoken of."
The old woman's face relaxed slightly, the faintest trace of a smile appearing.
But then, "Evol"'s tone shifted, his voice dripping with arrogance.
"However… don't you think that would be terribly boring? I went through all this trouble, made such a grand spectacle, and in the end, I just pack it all up because of a single promise? Do you think that's fair to me?"
He fired his questions one after another, his armored figure nearly shaking with laughter. If everything ended here, then what had been the point of building the tower? Of setting up the grand climb, arranging the monsters, orchestrating the entire play?
"More importantly," he continued, his voice cold now, "you would have me let the true culprits walk free? The ones who brought all this about—allowed to remain untouched? To go unpunished? No. I will never accept that."
He leaned forward slightly, as though daring her.
"So, to show me your sincerity, Grand Knight… will you hand me the list? The list of those filth in the Chamber of Commerce who've been pulling the strings these past years. Let me vent this anger that burns with no outlet."
"Evol" tilted his head, waiting for her answer, his presence filling the air like a predator toying with prey.
"I imagine Kazimierz would not go so far as to protect those parasites, would you? If I help remove them, then it benefits you as well. A perfect win-win, don't you agree?"
His laugh echoed chillingly, crawling under the skin of all who heard it.
The old woman's face twisted with hesitation. If she could, she wanted to agree—but the ramifications were enormous. Allowing the Black Hole Knight to move unchecked would plunge Kazimierz's economy into chaos.
"Such matters… cannot be handled by words alone. If you would just give us time to—"
Her words were cut off.
"I don't mind," said the other Steven—the "businessman" self—shrugging as though it were nothing. "The more he clears away, the more I can buy up. If nothing else, money is something I'm not lacking."
It was said with such casualness that the weight of it struck harder than any threat. This was exactly the moment to flaunt the might of his "corporate empire." After all, who wouldn't want to work for a company with bottomless coffers?
"This…" The Grand Knight faltered, her eyes flicking between the two figures.
"Evol" simply sighed, and with a snap of his fingers, the ground beneath them warped. A black hole expanded from his feet, swallowing her, the human Steven, and everyone else nearby.
A moment of disorienting darkness—and when they regained their senses, they stood atop the towering tower structure.
And there, before them, was something bizarre. A single streetlight. Tall. Unnaturally tall—so long it seemed to pierce the very sky.
Confusion spread through the crowd as they stared at the towering pole.
None of them noticed, however, that in the instant of teleportation, the real Steven had already vanished without a trace.
Only the armored "Evol" remained, along with the bewildered people and the impossibly tall streetlight looming above them.
"Anyway," Steven said lightly, rolling his shoulders as though limbering up, "that little promise of yours—I'll grudgingly believe it this once. But…"
His lips curved into a smile that was far too calm for the words he spoke.
"…as both a warning to you, and as punishment for them, the next thing I'm about to do—I want you, and all of Kazimierz, to watch closely."
With a snap of his fingers, he dismissed the armored puppet and stood now as his true self. While stretching as though after a long nap, he raised a hand toward the drones hovering nearby, ensuring the entire scene was being broadcast.
Then, almost casually, he reached into his inventory and pulled free… an enormous stack of files. Bundled papers, thick as bricks, spilling down in a heap at his feet.
The Grand Knight frowned, suspicion knitting her brow. She leaned closer, and with only a glance, recognition flashed in her eyes.
These were reports. Records of the K.G.C.C's "members." Each page catalogued their corruption, their crimes, their filth.
But those people weren't here. They weren't on this rooftop. What use was simply reading their names?
She quickly realized she had underestimated the man before her. This demon in knight's skin was not one to posture meaninglessly.
The Black Hole Knight plucked a single sheet from the pile and began to read aloud, his tone mocking, his every word crisp for the broadcast to catch.
"K.G.C.C member—Deputy Director of the Mieszko Group, Semira. Area 3 real estate contractor. Cut corners on construction, profited three hundred million, caused a collapse that killed and injured over ten people. Fined two million. Case closed."
As he spoke, the Black Hole Knight waved the page with its stamped seal deliberately toward the drone, making sure the world saw.
"Fortunate, isn't he? To be the first name I drew. That earns him a front-row seat."
He chuckled under his breath and snapped his fingers.
The black hole yawned open. A breath later, it snapped shut again—leaving a new figure in the Black Hole Knight's grasp.
A man. Fat-jowled, sweating, eyes bulging in bewilderment.
Gasps erupted from the rooftop. The crowd recognized him instantly: Semira, the very same executive just named.
The realization spread like wildfire—the Black Hole Knight could drag people across space itself. He had plucked this man directly from safety, ripped him out of whatever car he had been riding in, and deposited him here like an offering to judgment.
The silence broke into terror. Faces twisted in fear, hands trembled, eyes widened.
Semira himself flailed, trying to make sense of his nightmare. One moment, he'd been comfortably riding away from Kazimierz, his troubles handled. The next—
A rope descended. Thin, cruel, dangling from the top of that impossibly tall streetlight. It coiled around his neck as if it had been waiting for him.
Semira clawed at the noose, struggling, legs kicking desperately. No plea, no bribe, no excuse could reach the ears of the man who had summoned him.
And before the eyes of Kazimierz—before the entire world—he hung.
The crowd could only watch as his body twitched, swung, then finally fell still, a grotesque ornament on the Black Hole Knight's towering gallows-light.
Steven exhaled, cold and satisfied, as if merely checking off a task on a list. Without pause, he lifted another page from the stack and read again, his voice cutting like a blade.
"Editor-in-Chief Ensiya of the Red Wine. Fabricated scandals, spread false reports, claiming: 'If there is no news, then we create it.' His pursuit of 'heat' drove innocents to ruin, drove families to despair. Some to suicide.
K.G.C.C's evaluation: A genius of publicity. A born journalist."
He smiled thinly, eyes gleaming.
"Shall we invite our next guest?"
Shaking his head slowly, Steven held up the documents in his hand, as if to remind everyone that he wasn't speaking out of thin air.
Then, with a flicker, his figure vanished.
When he reappeared, it was with another body dangling helplessly from his grip—this time, the very editor-in-chief he had just named. He carried the man like one might carry a chicken by the neck, utterly indifferent.
A rope descended once again from the sky, coiling around the terrified journalist. In the next instant, the man was hoisted upward, swinging beside the fat executive who had been strung up before him. Together, they became grotesque ornaments on the towering streetlight, swaying in the wind.
It was only now that the crowd finally understood his intention.
This man—this monster—intended to drag out every last criminal shielded by capital, one by one, and execute them before the eyes of Kazimierz. A live trial. A public judgment.
The realization struck like a thunderclap, forcing cold gasps from the spectators' throats. It was the act of a tyrant, cruel and merciless. And yet—he had evidence. He had proof. He was not lying.
If anything, the only thing that could be called excessive… was his method.
But not a single person dared to step forward.
The Black Hole Knight's new display of power was despair itself—instantaneous, inescapable, unavoidable. Who among them could risk becoming the next unfortunate "guest" of the streetlight?
Some even felt a twisted surge of relief, of satisfaction. Especially those who had lost family to the greed and corruption the Black Hole Knight was now exposing. Their eyes shone with unshed tears, gratitude burning hot in their throats. If they could, they would have knelt and bowed to him right there.
And so the execution continued. One file after another. One name after another. Each time the Black Hole Knight read a crime aloud, another body was hauled into the air. The streetlight soon bore more than a single corpse—an entire line of them, dangling against the sky, swaying like a grotesque row of wind chimes.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Kazimierz, panic erupted among the members of the K.G.C.C.
Colleagues who, just hours earlier, had been casually discussing which mobile city to expand their operations into, were now appearing one after another at the Black Hole Knight's hands… only to be strung up in front of the entire nation.
How could anyone remain calm?
After all, how many of them had clean hands? Very few, if any. Their past crimes—things once spoken of as trivial anecdotes, cocktail chatter, or bragging rights—had turned, in this moment, into death sentences.
But no one felt the icy grip of fear more than one man—Kain, the one who had first built the K.G.C.C.
He understood the truth with brutal clarity.
The Black Hole Knight wasn't merely judging individuals. He was putting the entire K.G.C.C on trial.
Where had he even gotten these files? These were supposed to be locked away in the K.G.C.C's deepest archives.
It didn't matter. What mattered was this: if the broadcast continued, the K.G.C.C's name would be obliterated. Kazimierz would never again allow them to stand tall.
Frantic, Kain ordered his subordinates to contact the drone companies. The broadcast had to be cut. Immediately.
But the reply he received made his blood run cold.
"Apologies, sir. Our company has already been acquired by the Block Consortium. The K.G.C.C no longer has the authority to command us."
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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