The World Does Not Exist for ■■

Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: ford53
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< Chapter 1: The Unlucky Day >

*

Crossing the line takes but a moment, and becoming a villain takes but a day.

“An old adage from the Deep Tower”

*

“This world, it’s not real.”

The ‘client’ who came to the cleaning scene started the conversation out of the blue like that.

“It feels like I’m within a game I used to play, but I could be wrong. It’s a franchise universe that spreads its tentacles into comics, movies, novels, games…”

No matter what he prattled on about, the cleaners did not stop their hands. Today, there was an unusual abundance of things to dispose of.

Two red elves, four smugglers, and what were probably back-alley thugs who had been the smugglers’ escorts.

The cleaners packed them into plastic bags before they became maggot food and sprayed chemicals on the blood-stained floor.

The customer, who seemed not to expect an answer, continued babbling as he sat in front of the cleaners’ truck.

“Actually, I didn’t think much about it, but suddenly I had a thought. Maybe, there’s another person like me who’s been dropped into this world?”

“You know, people like authors who write spin-off novels of the universe, or CF directors.”

“Those people wouldn’t come here as game characters like me… How did they come? Possession? Reincarnation?”

His words, half in jest, lacked any sort of coherence or logic.

The sound of his voice, heard amidst snickers of laughter, was similar to the ramblings of a madman one might hear in the hallway of a mental hospital.

Something foreboding yet reprehensible… Such was the voice.

By then, some of the cleaners visibly began to be cautious of the customer.

Of course, no cleaner took any actions against him.

After all, no one here wanted to fight a murderer who had slaughtered over forty people, including elves.

Instead, they moved their hands and feet even more busily, aiming to finish the cleaning a bit sooner.

“It seems like I’m the only one talking.”

Perhaps reading the atmosphere, the customer stopped talking.

But the silence did not last long…

As the cleaners were about to throw the last plastic bag into the truck, the customer abruptly raised his hand and pointed at one of them.

“Hey, you there.”

The cleaner the customer pointed to was mopping the floor with a waste vacuum cleaner.

Like the other cleaners, dressed in thick work clothes and with a gas mask hiding his face, the cleaner turned his head to look at the customer.

“Yes, you. I have a question.”

“…A question, sir?”

From within the gas mask of the cleaner holding the waste vacuum came the voice of a young man.

“Nothing serious, just a question. If you came to this world through reincarnation, you’re called a reincarnator, and through possession, a possessor. What would you call me if I came as a game character?”

The cleaner glanced at his fellow cleaners before answering the customer.

“The protagonist… wouldn’t that be the case, sir?”

“The protagonist? Why do you think that?”

“Well, weren’t you saying you entered from a game? Someone who has experienced such an extraordinary event… deserves to be called the protagonist, no?”

The customer snickered at the cleaner’s answer. It was a laugh closer to mockery than satisfaction.

“You could think that, but you’re wrong. There are already protagonists in this universe.”

“…Is that so?”

“Didn’t I tell you? It’s a franchise universe. How could a game character be the protagonist? So think of another name. What springs to mind when you think of games?”

Despite the questions being unrelated to cleaning, the cleaner holding the waste vacuum seriously pondered the question.

Or pretended to do so.

As quick-witted colleagues snatched the vacuum from him and swept away other traces until they signaled that cleaning was done, he kept pondering.

Finally, one of the cleaners signaled with an eye gesture that the cleaning was finished, and he spoke up.

“… A player. How about that?”

“Player? Oh, I like that. Player, player…”

Satisfied with the response, the customer rolled the word ‘player’ around on his tongue a few times while smirking.

A little while later, he got up and said,

“You’ve come up with a pretty decent nickname, so you’ll be the last.”

“…The last? What do you mean?”

The customer gave no answer but ‘grabbed’ something from thin air instead.

Then, as if it had been there all along, a long steel sword was clutched in his hand.

“Wait a minute…!”

The moment he saw the sword, one of the quicker-thinking cleaners tried to draw a gun. But the customer lunged at the cleaners even faster.

“Damn it! Run away!”

“Hit the alarm! Hit the alarm!”

“Ahh!”

Screams rang out, blood followed.

James, who was quickest to draw his gun, collapsed without even getting a chance to scream.

Deokbae, who tried to press the emergency alarm, was slashed across the chest and split in two, while next to him Chun-sik also fell, leaving nothing but a scream not even reaching a last will.

With those three dead to begin with, the cleaners were brutally murdered. Swiftly and cruelly, as if disposing of garbage.

“Why… why is the alarm not…?”

The last to fall was Team Leader. Even as his life was slipping away, he desperately pounded on the silent alarm.

Though signals were clearly sent, the alarm remained silent.

“Of course, it’s silent. Your bodies were worth a lot. You think I wouldn’t plan ahead?”

The customer smirked as he trampled on the corpse of the work supervisor. The meticulously cleaned floor became covered in blood once more.

After the supervisor’s upper body was completely shredded to pieces, the customer finally stopped and turned his head. The cleaner who had given him a name was shaking and staring at him.

“Why… Why are you doing this?”

“Ah, make no mistake. It’s not like I have a grudge or anything.”

“….”

“Just needed a tiny bit more EXP for the level up.”

The player wiped the blood off his cheek while smiling.

“…Experience points?”

“If we’re starting the prologue, it’s better to be level 10 than level 9. Traits are unlocked, new skills are learned… For the academy route, you need to grab attention early on for an easier later half.”

Chatting nonsensically, the customer brushed off his sword. Blood droplets sprinkled onto the floor.

“As promised, you’re the last. Turns out the experience points are just right.”

The player approached, but the last cleaner did not even attempt to run away. He just stood silently in place, glaring at the customer… no, the player.

Was it bravery, or was it the knowledge that escape was impossible and thus giving up? It didn’t matter to the player.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

The player pressed the sword to his throat and asked.

“…Dung Beetle.”

“Ha! Dung Beetle for waste cleaning duty? Your naming sense is just brilliant.”

The player lightly pressed the sword further, and the blade began to dig into Dung Beetle’s neck, blood trickling out.

“Dung Beetle, have you got any last words? I’ll listen as a celebration for reaching level 10.”

“… How much was it?”

“What much was what?”

“Our lives. How much did they cost?”

“The price of life? It was rather cheap. They gave me two for 250,000 won. The rest can be deducted from your salaries, they said?”

Dung Beetle clenched his fist and trembled. He bit down hard against the insides of his cheeks, holding back a scream.

“…Fuck.”

He struggled to accept reality. They had been sold out, not by strangers but their own higher-ups, all to save some labor costs.

…Is this truly reality?

No matter how much he asked, reality was indifferent. The cleaners he had worked alongside were now spread across the floor as pools of blood and refuse. And soon, he too would join them.

“Don’t think too harshly of it. Isn’t that what mobs are for?”

“Mobs? You see the people you killed… do these people look like mobs to you?”

When Dung Beetle spat out his words, the player laughed lightly in response.

“Things that give EXP and items when killed are mobs, right? Then, are they people?”

“You insane bastard—G-ah!”

Dung Beetle’s final words were cut short.

The sword passed through his neck, and rather than last words, blood poured out.

Then, a head encased in a gas mask fell, along with a headless corpse.

“Level up.”

The player did not spare a glance at the corpses he created.

Pressing something in the air, talking about how his strength, agility, and whatnot had increased, he left the place.

And like that, the midnight massacre concluded. A quiet ending with no witnesses, no survivors.

…But the story did not end there.

From the place the player had left, a headless corpse started to rise.

For a long time, unable to orient itself, the corpse wandered in the same spot. The cold hands groped across the ground desperately, searching for something.

Flop

The body, after roaming around for a while, finally found what it was looking for in a pool of blood: a neatly severed head.

With careful and delicate hands, the head was lifted and placed back where it was meant to be on its neck.

Squelch

As the head was placed back onto the neck, black smoke billowed from the fresh wound, and the blood and flesh reattached themselves.

It was like a miracle, yet the body remained a corpse. The carcass, with a stopped heart, was still cold, still not breathing.

…But it would not take long.

The dead cleaner would come back to life. Stronger than when alive, and more… joyfully.

“Oh, my chosen one.”

Where the player had scattered death, ‘it’ laughed soundlessly.