Across a vast field of golden corn, the sweet scent of ripe kernels was tainted by the faint smell of blood.
Severed limbs and scattered organs lay strewn across the ground, drawing flocks of black crows that tore into the corpses without hesitation.
The birds did not wait a single second before feasting. They devoured the flesh with desperate hunger, as though they had been starving for ages.
Crunch.
A single footstep echoed through the eerie silence.
Boots crushed dried corn leaves beneath them, their crisp crack far sharper than the wet sounds of the feeding crows.
"So... you thought you escaped. Turns out you were already dead."
A figure emerged from between the rows of corn.
He wore loose-fitting black clothing beneath an oversized long coat that looked almost impractical to move in.
"Sorry. I saw the brand, so I figured I'd come looking for a free meal."
The voice came from nowhere.
At once, the crows moved like machines. They spread their wings in perfect unison and gathered together.
They settled atop a crimson coffin before swirling into a storm of black feathers, which slowly condensed into the shape of an old man.
He was gaunt—little more than skin stretched over bone.
His eyes bulged unnaturally from their sockets.
Raising a hand to his face, he peeled away a layer of black shell from around one eye. The brittle coating cracked apart like aged plastic, revealing bronze-colored skin beneath and a pair of dull gray eyes.
"The brand? Ah... the mark used for prisoners of war."
"I'm surprised someone like you knows about it."
"I thought the world agreed you'd already gone insane."
Mockery dripped from the young man's voice, carrying the peculiar tone of someone who seemed almost eager to die.
"..."
The old man remained silent.
Then his eyes flashed.
Without giving the stranger another chance to speak, he hoisted the coffin with one hand, gripped a handleless blade with the other, and lunged forward.
Body Limit: Speed.
Though the black shell covering his legs had yet to break away, thick veins bulged beneath it as his muscles pushed themselves to their absolute limit.
He charged.
Using the blade to catch the sunlight, he flashed it toward his opponent's eyes.
The instant he sensed the slightest hesitation, he released the knife.
At the same time, his free hand spread open.
Long, razor-sharp claws burst from his fingers, their edges gleaming with a faint black sheen.
Thud!
The man in black twisted sideways.
His billowing coat swung outward as he deliberately used it to absorb the impact.
The blade pierced the fabric—
—but went no farther.
At the same moment, he adjusted his stance, one foot forward, the other behind, both hands resting calmly near his neck.
"Honestly..."
"Every recruitment ends with a fight."
"But protocol says I'm still supposed to explain."
He stomped down.
Mud exploded into the air along with broken cornstalks. He followed with a powerful kick, launching a ripe ear of corn toward the old man.
Yet before it could reach him, the ear was shredded apart.
The old man leapt forward, slashing through the kernels with his claws before driving them into the ground.
The earth instantly hardened beneath him.
Its surface became slick, almost glass-like.
Then he noticed something strange.
The kernels he had just sliced apart dissolved into the air, becoming countless tiny points of light.
The radiance scattered the darkness surrounding him.
His dull gray eye suddenly froze.
It turned transparent—almost invisible—revealing every blood vessel inside the eyeball itself.
An Eye-type spell...?
Without hesitation, he shifted the crimson coffin onto his back, securing it tightly.
Then...
He stopped moving.
Rather than attacking again, he waited.
Years of experience warned him of one thing.
The man before him was not the true owner of that magic.
A stream of foul-smelling blood dripped unconsciously from the corner of the old man's mouth.
"Ah..."
"So you've finally stopped."
The mockery returned.
Even after losing the advantage of his vision, murderous intent continued to pour from the old man as he prepared for the coming assault.
But then—
Something unexpected happened.
"We actually came here..."
"...to recruit you into our company."
As he spoke, the mysterious man walked forward until they stood face to face.
The old madman could no longer move.
His arms.
His legs.
Everything had gone numb.
Only his hearing assured him that he still existed.
"But my boss changed his mind."
"After seeing how uncooperative you've been..."
"We'll only be taking one thing."
He walked around behind the old man and placed a hand upon the deep crimson coffin.
Without the slightest concern for resistance, he slowly lifted it onto his shoulder.
"We know you could tear us apart."
"But you chose not to."
"Perhaps..."
"...you've always wanted someone to take this away."
Click.
The coffin rested securely on his shoulder.
Neither its tremendous weight nor its awkward size seemed to burden him.
He gave the old man one last look.
Then turned to leave.
"...Hey."
The old man's voice suddenly rang out.
"I don't know what you people are trying to do."
A faint smile spread across his face.
Its expression was impossible to read beneath the black shell.
"But I hope you understand..."
"...that what you're carrying has never belonged to this era."
His smile stretched wider and wider—
Until it reached his ears.
The black shell covering his face cracked apart.
"..."
The man in black walked away without looking back.
Originally, those corpses had been meant for a public execution.
This outcome wasn't bad either.
"Thank you for the meal."
"And thank your boss..."
"...for this gift."
"I hope..."
"...for the rest of our lives..."
"...we never meet again."
The old man laughed.
His body dissolved into thousands of black crows that scattered across the sky.
Only a single black feather remained, drifting silently onto the bloodstained earth.