Heavy footsteps approached and stopped before the young man, filled with hope. His eyes, glimmering with anticipation, awaited rescue from the shadowy figure.
Yet the wait began to twist the feelings of the young noble. Minutes passed, and the figure in the darkness remained still.
"Who are you!! What do you intend to do!!!!"
"Answer my question first."
The calm voice filled the stifling basement with a coldness that contrasted the heat. The vague yet precise words threw the young noble into suspicion and unease.
"What question!! What are you talking about!?"
Rage began to etch itself across his scarred face. His outward nobility dissolved into emptiness, a victim of his inability to assess the situation.
"Foolish."
After speaking, Victor lifted his gun and pointed it directly at the young noble. The arm that emerged from the light made the weapon clearly visible.
"One."
"What does that mean!? What are you going to do!"
"Two."
"Wait, wait!! I give up!"
"Three."
A pitiful scream erupted from the young noble. His prior anger was thoroughly and mercilessly suppressed.
"The Crimson Empire currently has no emperor to control it. According to internal reports, the emperor is traveling to the Dungeon Organization's lands! Please, don't kill me!!"
The status of the Crimson Empire… was a shrewd question, capable of determining actions that could lead to war.
If no one knew the truth of the matter, negotiations could proceed smoothly.
Victor admired the plan of the leadership of the Ven Republic, realizing that the middle-aged man lying before him was one of their agents. Whether from the Rassentiven region or a high-ranking official, it didn't matter.
There was no time left to decide.
"I will not kill you."
Victor lowered his gun and continued speaking.
"I am a member of the Ven Republic Revolution. I was born in Ravenis, and I will do whatever it takes to restore what the people have lost—especially the peace that should exist."
"What does that mean!?"
"You've become a target of an assassination plot by the leaders of the Ven Republic, meant to pin all the blame on the Revolution. I hope you understand."
"Do you think I'll believe you so easily!"
"And yet you've been beaten until your face is unrecognizable. I'm giving you the chance to think clearly. I stand here to protect the Ven Republic, my birthplace."
The young noble swallowed hard.
"What do you want from me?"
"Peace between the Ven Republic and the Crimson Empire—no entanglement. Acting as if these events never occurred isn't possible, is it? So I offer the most shameless direct diplomacy from the lowliest of people. Allow me to negotiate the situation of the Ven Republic with the emperor of the Crimson Empire, and perhaps the bloody war might never happen."
The noble flinched slightly at the mention of the emperor, but his disadvantage left him only able to stare into the darkness.
"How confident are you..!"
"Let's make an exchange, and you will survive."
"…."
"I fear my offer might not be worth as much as your life," Victor said, placing his thumb over the trigger.
With a slight movement, the young noble's head would be gone forever.
Though Victor's threat contradicted his claim of wanting to avoid war, if his offer was refused, he would be the one to start it, gun in hand.
His options were many; if this path succeeded, the outcome would certainly be intriguing.
A brief silence filled with tension passed between them.
Sweat and heavy breaths influenced the young noble's decision until a smile appeared alongside submissive words
"Alright… I agree!"
In this situation, Victor could only think of the shift in demeanor.
It was the confidence of someone who saw a path to survival, one that would maximize their own benefit.
"Do you think surviving will keep you safe? Do you know why the Ven Republic Revolution has lasted over forty years? Even the leadership cannot suppress it. Why would dispersing forces here fail to infiltrate the Crimson Empire? Are you relying on miraculous power? You have yet to face death without sensation—it neither hurts nor kills, but feels like eternal imprisonment."
Victor's calm threat ended with a smile. His words were deliberate misdirection; he held no advantage, making it difficult to force outcomes. But compared to the risk, it was worth it.
The young noble's body trembled with fear, though he tried to maintain a composed expression.
Victor's smile, however, remained unstoppable.
"I'm afraid your torso alone will suffice. Remove your arms and legs, and in a few hours or days, you may recover."
The gun aimed at his thighs.
"No! I won't..!"
"Scream if you like, I allow it."
"Please! I give up! Please!"
The gun fired. Both ears rang. The young noble's legs were struck, leaving him screaming in agonizing pain.
"Once you return, if you wish to negotiate with me, you must contact the Ven Republic news agency to officially report this in the newspaper, detailing the negotiation location subtly. Wait there for twenty-four hours until I arrive. No need to identify yourself precisely, but if distrustful, come personally."
The young noble teetered on the edge of consciousness. His pitiful, agonizing state drove Victor's words into his mind.
Victor was confident; the Crimson Empire would need accountability, regardless of the emperor's temperament. With the emperor absent, war would not occur anytime soon.
If he entered the Crimson Empire, he could begin studying supernatural powers from a land proficient in them, strengthening himself to survive independently.
No need to rely on anyone, no allegiance to any organization—discover the truth of all things and recognize his own identity.
Victor moved through the darkness, untying a man and letting him crawl up the stairs in fear.
"Quick, get out of here…" For the first time, he felt such freedom of thought, a rare satisfaction.
Ammo was running low.
From here, he must escape on his own. A few steps up the stairs revealed only emptiness awaiting him.
Cold seeped into his body again. He tasted life and faced all sensations with the same calm expression. Everything accelerated since standing on this unfamiliar world.
People he met, unfamiliar cultures, supernatural powers called miracles.
He hoped all would end someday.
As Victor anticipated, creating a faceless stance was the best method. Tracking news of key figures and unusual events allowed him to gather critical knowledge.
Once trusted by Denhart, independent action would begin.
Protect the delicate woman, earn her affection, and manipulate her for goals he could not yet achieve. Without her, success would be difficult.
Victor was not naturally cunning; circumstances forced him to act. Yet his shallow intellect would be compensated by future knowledge. Plans were flexible, adaptable to his abilities.
He pondered his strategies until he could not distinguish between self-delusion and feasible intelligence.
Though previously recruited into politics, it was always behind the scenes. He spoke what people wanted to hear but lacked truth's weight.
Ultimately, he observed all parties, distancing himself from political action. But influential writing demanded societal roles be addressed. Good or evil is expressed through language, not education—through attitude.
Money alone could not solve everything. Wisdom, intuition, and truth were necessary, if not primary. Trust is difficult without experience.
At a general family table, the poor ate for taste.
At a wealthy family table, conversation was tense.
No need for nostalgia—he passed through darkness pierced by lantern light.
Earlier, as he stared at his palm, the number changed:
'2'
Since the miracle's energy originates from killing, the number represented the value of a human life.
One human equaled one point, like energy statistics.
Like collecting souls to convert into tangible, controllable power.
Victor did not yet know how.
Knowing the method of accumulation was sufficient. Here, only Revolution members remained.
Nothing after this would reach the public.
An apartment-like building for general personnel or citizens burned after sabotage of gas lines for cooking and lanterns.
He carried the middle-aged man's cigarettes.
Couples hiding in dark alleys were executed one by one.
Office buildings, too, were dangerous; confrontation with special forces was risky.
In dense city areas, firearm use required caution. Civilians disposing of trash in alleys faced tragic consequences.
When a woman died, dispatching lazy men was merciful; eliminating their siblings was also mercy.
Whether by strangling or blunt force, each act demanded more exhaustion.
Victor's cold-blooded actions surpassed normal human limits, yet he acted selfishly, true to himself.
He did not delude himself that they were virtual or illusions.
He infiltrated cavalry tents, burning multiple areas intentionally. Chaos spread, smoke filled dark skies, crowded streets constricted.
He ignored worthless items, took coins, and stole food, eating frantically.
Bread was tasteless, yet he consumed it anyway.
With enough strength, he stole knives to conserve ammo, trading effort for bullets.
Through buildings and headquarters, he sought help via back doors.
Fearful cries drew attention from female scholars, but their necks were swiftly slit.
His chilling assault on the scholars and others was fast and brutal.
Cries silenced. These were capable researchers following orders; they could not survive.
Dining halls were soaked in blood; hallways littered with golden casings.
People were too numerous for a quiet resolution.
He raided drawers, collected chemicals, and fled down alleys. Many survived, but chaos dominated residences, offices, and market areas.
Quick action instilled widespread terror. No one lingered to examine the shooter—they ran to survive.
Hide to survive. Die for others.
Victor's victims died pointlessly. No one survived unscathed. Large buildings burned, illuminating the area.
Special forces rode through the city. The mastermind smiled atop a bridge, staring at the small river and his palm:
'26'
This number was insufficient. More lives needed sacrifice. His dark eyes glimmered—not with madness, but calculation.
Such opportunities would vanish if he did not act.
If possessing ultimate power required wiping out the world, it was worth it.