Dusk tumbled down from the peak of the garbage mountain. Luckily, he didn't land on anything sharp, making it to the ground mostly unharmed.
As soon as his feet touched solid earth, he hunched over and darted between piles of trash, hiding himself in a spot well out of sight.
He slumped down onto the filthy ground, gasping for breath. The intense physical exertion had taken its toll on his mortal body—a stark contrast to what he used to be.
Opening his backpack, he dug through the contents and pulled out a few first-aid supplies. He disinfected and bandaged the wounds on his arms with practiced hands.
"Good thing I happened to pass by that medical supply shop while shopping... Otherwise, I would've completely forgotten to buy this stuff," he muttered, letting out a breath of relief. At least his luck hadn't completely abandoned him.
Before his death, he had reached Rank 6 as a Heart Master. At that level, not even nuclear weapons could pose a threat to him—ordinary medical supplies had long since become irrelevant. But now, they were essential again.
After treating his wounds, he retrieved some dry rations and a bottle of water, eating quickly to replenish his energy. Only with a full stomach could he begin to plan his next move.
'The police probably won't chase me for long—especially not in a world descending into chaos like this. But the central districts, where the big shots live, will be their top priority. Outskirts like this one will come later.'
Having clearly assessed the current situation, he lay back and allowed himself to sleep. The stench of rotting garbage was unbearable to most, but for someone who had lived through far worse, it was a minor nuisance.
…
Upon receiving the report about a suspected serial killer, Darius immediately stormed over to confront the officer in charge.
"This has to be a mistake! Dusk is one of the kindest people I've ever known! He risked his life diving into the rubble—how could he possibly be a murderer?"
His voice trembled with disbelief. His expression showed he could hardly accept the reality he was hearing.
"Based on the scene, he was the only suspect," the officer replied calmly. "There's no hard evidence yet, since there were no surveillance cameras... but once we capture him, we're confident the proof will surface."
Darius's face twisted in anguish. To him, Dusk was a living saint—there was simply no way he could have committed such an evil and immoral act.
"I don't believe it! You must have made a mistake in your investigation!" he shouted, throwing his arm in protest.
He wasn't the only one speaking up. Other people who had once been saved by Dusk began voicing their support as well.
"That's right. This is all a misunderstanding. He's the one who carried me out of the wreckage!"
"He saved me too!"
"I was rescued by him as well. I can testify—he's a good man!"
...
Seeing how no one seemed to believe him, the officer could only sigh in exasperation. Though he had undergone professional training and knew how to follow procedures, he couldn't understand Dusk's motive either. Still, everything pointed clearly in one direction: Dusk was the culprit.
"Everyone, calm down," the officer said with a measured tone. "If none of you trust me, then go find him yourselves. If you can convince him to turn himself in at the station, that would be the best outcome. Otherwise, I'll be forced to issue a warrant for his arrest."
With that, the officer turned and began the pursuit.
Of all the people who had just spoken up for Dusk, only Darius actually moved. The rest stayed still, unmoving. Their behavior wasn't surprising. Dusk had saved them, so they stepped forward to protect him only to show the world they were decent people. But when action was required, they remained frozen, hiding behind excuses.
Soon, Darius arrived at the area where the police had gathered. From the way the officers stared down at the massive trash heaps, he quickly understood what had happened.
"Did he jump down there?" he asked.
"Yeah. If you want to look for him, go ahead," one officer replied.
Without hesitation, Darius nodded, leapt over the metal barricade, and dashed straight down the trash slope. Once he hit the ground, he began combing through the area, calling out Dusk's name and searching frantically.
The police were about to split up and join the search when a call suddenly came through.
"The situation has escalated. Emergency! All units must regroup in the city center immediately. We have to protect them—if too many politicians die, the world will fall into chaos."
The police officers froze, caught between two critical choices—chasing down a murderer or protecting key figures vital to the nation.
"What are you all hesitating for?" one officer finally snapped, shattering the silence. "What harm can a mere killer really do? If something happens to those important people, the chaos will be far worse! Besides, following orders from above is our top priority!"
His words struck home. The others quickly gathered themselves, jumped into their vehicles, and left the scene.
Some say that every life is equally precious—but is that really true? In reality, the value of a life depends on what it contributes to the world. The life of a president who sacrifices for their country holds immeasurable worth—no number of ordinary lives could compare. Meanwhile, the life of a parasite who contributes nothing... barely worth more than a pig's, save for the fact that he's human.
...
"Dusk! Where are you? I want to talk to you!" Darius called out as he wandered the area. He'd been searching for a while, but there was still no sign of the man he considered a saint.
Dusk stirred from his slumber, awakened by the voice. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to recall where he was—and who the voice belonged to.
'That's Darius… What is he doing here? Has he found out the truth already?' Dusk frowned, debating silently. 'Should I kill him, or try to talk?'
He hesitated for a moment, calculating which choice would benefit his future the most. But soon, his gaze turned resolute.
'This identity… It won't get me anywhere unless I'm willing to take risks.'
Straightening his back, he walked out to face Darius, a knife hidden inside his coat—just in case things went beyond his control.
"I'm here," he said calmly.
Darius heard the voice and rushed toward it. When he saw Dusk, he stopped abruptly, his face clouded with hesitation. After a long pause, he finally asked the question that had been burning in his heart:
"Were you the one who killed those six people?"
He spoke softly, praying in his heart that he was wrong—that it was all a misunderstanding and that Dusk had only been trying to help others.
"Yes," Dusk replied without flinching.
The word pierced through Darius's soul like a spear, sharp and cold. He stared at Dusk in disbelief, eyes wide, unable to accept what he had just heard.