Tick-tock, tick-tock.
The headquarters of the Infinity Guild.
Usually, this magnificent building would be bustling with hundreds of people, from guild members to low-level employees.
But at this moment, the tower was plunged into a silence as still as death.
It wasn’t just because everyone had been evacuated and access had been prohibited due to certain orders.
It was because there was a sentinel guarding that silence.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
In the desolate space where not a single soul remained, a man with slicked-back hair sat with his legs crossed on a lone chair.
He had sealed the building by deploying various barrier Skills.
Lee Cheon-gi was waiting.
He had been doing so for the past four days, his gaze fixed on the pocket watch in his hand.
He had watched the second hand tick more than 340,000 times.
Spending 340,000 seconds without eating, sleeping, or resting was enough to make an ordinary person — or even a decent high-level Player — collapse from exhaustion.
But Lee Cheon-gi did not even bat an eyelid.
With his usual calm expression, he simply waited for the second hand to complete its 345,600th rotation.
*Ring!*
“It’s time.”
The second hand finally reached the target point.
Simultaneously, a loud ringing erupted from the pocket watch.
The moment he heard the alarm signaling the end of the promised four days, Lee Cheon-gi immediately rose from his chair.
He moved toward the place that had been firmly shut for the duration: the secretary’s office.
*Creak.*
“Hmm?”
However, his movement ended as a mere attempt.
Before he could even grasp the handle, the closed door opened, and a man walked out.
“What is it, you? Have you really been waiting here for four days?”
White hair and golden eyes.
A single sword fastened at his waist.
And a small scar etched near his eye.
Limon Aspelder, the white-haired man with his many distinctive features, looked at him with surprise.
Lee Cheon-gi did not answer.
In fact, he didn’t even look at Limon.
His gaze was fixed solely on one spot: the gap in the door that Limon had just left slightly ajar.
‘This is…’
Blood spatter reached from the floor to the ceiling.
A desk was clearly marked with the imprints of a skull and teeth, showing just how much force had been used to slam someone against it.
There was a pile of flesh sliced thinner than paper, and fragments of bone and organs were scattered everywhere.
He stood frozen for a long time, staring at the wreckage that was too horrific to believe had come from just one person.
Finally, he managed to open his mouth to ask.
“What on earth did you do in there for the past four days?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Lee Cheon-gi replied with silence.
Honestly, he didn’t want to know.
No, he was afraid to find out.
Even for someone like Lee Cheon-gi, who had entered Dungeons thousands of times and witnessed all sorts of brutal deaths, that sight was enough to make him feel nauseous.
Limon smirked at the honest reaction.
“Personally, I’d recommend incinerating the entire room.”
Limon gave some kind advice, telling him to handle it well if he didn’t want to see whoever was assigned the cleanup go insane.
But again, there was no reply.
Only a heavy, sunken gaze was directed toward him.
“What? Have you suddenly developed some sympathy?”
“It’s not exactly that.”
Lee Cheon-gi shook his head at Limon’s sarcasm.
No matter how close of an aide he had been, he was not such a good or kind person that he would feel pity for Park Hyun-gun, who had deceived and used him.
Limon pointed out the reason why Lee Cheon-gi’s expression remained stiff.
“Then, do you think I went too far?”
“…I cannot deny that point.”
Lee Cheon-gi admitted the fact calmly.
Anyone else would have felt the same.
In fact, most would have vomited and run away, looking at Limon as if he were a monster.
The scene was just that disastrous.
They would wonder if it was right to kill even a criminal like this, and if the person who did such a thing could even be considered human.
Any human with even a shred of morality would inevitably feel doubt and disgust.
This was especially true since the victim was already a vegetable.
“Manager Park had already become a hollow shell. Was it really necessary to kill him like this?”
After the Serpent of the Beginning and the End had seized Park Hyun-gun’s body and then abandoned it, the man had become completely catatonic.
His condition was so severe it was doubtful if any consciousness remained, let alone the ability to move or speak.
Knowing his state, Limon had resumed the killing that had been interrupted by the Serpent’s intervention and finished it over four days.
It was natural for Lee Cheon-gi’s face to harden.
However, the perpetrator of the massacre showed no sign of guilt, let alone shame.
He simply tilted his head slightly.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already been quite lenient, you know?”
“Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking with you?”
Unlike his light tone, Limon’s golden eyes were chillingly cold.
Lee Cheon-gi fell into silence.
He could not understand how this could be considered “lenient.”
“If you’re like this over a little thing, you’ll probably faint if you see a black mage performing a human sacrifice.”
“I don’t believe anything that has to be compared to human sacrifice can be considered normal.”
“That’s by your standards.”
Limon smirked.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why Lee Cheon-gi was reacting this way.
In fact, he knew it all too well.
In this modern age, where murder itself is considered a sin, torturing someone to death for any reason is viewed as a barbaric act that goes beyond cruelty.
But those were strictly the standards of this era.
“Brat. Long ago, there were nations that showed off human sacrifices to the masses.”
Being sacrificed to a god was an honor.
Human sacrifice was a means to reach heaven.
There were religions where everyone believed in that doctrine without doubt and volunteered to be the offering.
“There was a time in the Colosseum when people watched their comrades cut each other down for entertainment, or enjoyed hangings like they were festivals.”
It was an era where everyone desired cruel slaughter.
“There were laws where even infants were thrown into snake pits to be eaten alive just because they shared a bloodline with a criminal.”
It was a law that decreed sin was inherited.
“There were teachings that encouraged chewing on the liver of an enemy for the sake of revenge.”
It was a culture where failing to get revenge was considered a disgrace.
“There were armies that researched how to kill humans more cruelly and efficiently.”
It was a war where humans were consumed like firewood.
All of those things would be considered insane today.
But at the very least, in those times, in those countries, in those religions, and in those cultures, it was common sense.
“Do you understand? How flimsy and easily broken this ‘normal’ is that you believe in so blindly, as if it were an immutable truth?”
Of course, even Limon hadn’t experienced all those eras and histories personally.
But having seen and experienced the transition of countless “common senses” across various places for hundreds of years, Limon knew the futility of such norms all too well.
“Of course, it’s a good thing that killing became a sin and cruel acts became taboo.”
He didn’t intend to spout nonsense like “the old days were better.”
It was certain that the world was easier to live in now than when life was considered cheap and cruelty was encouraged.
Above all, for Limon, who knew how easily becoming accustomed to such acts could destroy one’s humanity, it was a welcome change.
The problem was another change that came with it.
“But I don’t consider it ‘normal’ to protect villains so they can live proudly under the guise of human rights.”
Being forgiven for all sins because one is young.
Being treated like a criminal for acting in self-defense.
The idea that even the most heinous murderers must not be killed.
Forcing forgiveness onto a child who lost their parents.
This era was infinitely merciful to the perpetrator yet cold to the victim.
Perhaps it was a testament to being more civilized than in the past, a virtue to avoid creating unnecessary hatred.
But Limon could not naturally accept that virtue born of a distorted peace.
He was a man of the past.
He was a swordsman who had lived by carving out the hearts of his enemies and decapitating villains.
“Maybe that bastard was originally a good guy. Maybe he could have reformed one day.”
If he hadn’t contracted with the Serpent of the Beginning and the End, Park Hyun-gun might not have become such a villain.
Because he lived using a specialized Skill like **[Prestige and Reputation]** that focused on lying, or because he was unconsciously manipulated by a Constellation, he might have been a victim who became a liar before he knew it.
“But I don’t give a damn about that.”
Limon stated firmly.
He had no interest and wouldn’t care about Park Hyun-gun’s human rights or any hidden goodness.
“What matters to me is that the bastard did something worth dying for, so I killed him.”
“…Even though you know that act will make people doubt your own humanity?”
“It’s better than letting my humanity be chipped away.”
One must not be mistaken.
It wasn’t just acts like torture or negative emotions like pride and greed that destroyed humanity.
Suppressing justified anger.
Enduring unfair injustice. Being forced to show kindness and mercy.
Those also eventually turn a human into a mere part for society.
Just as following someone around or imprisoning them until they love you is an act that destroys the other person, no matter how great the emotion of love is.
“I told you. I want to be a human, not a pathetic pushover.”
Of course, if that was the flow of the times, Limon was willing to accept it to some extent.
Just as he didn’t kill shitty criminals as he pleased when he worked as a PAB Agent.
If he were the only one who had suffered, he might have just caused a ruckus and ended it without killing anyone.
But the moment he cut down Yuna-gyeong with his own sword, Limon’s room for compromise vanished.
No matter how the times changed, or how laws and cultures shifted, it was his duty as a superior to collect the blood price for a subordinate who died unfairly.
Giving that up would be abandoning his humanity in a different sense than becoming a monster.
“And Lee Cheon-gi.”
*Shhh.*
Limon slowly drew his sword.
Looking at Lee Cheon-gi with cold eyes, he spoke.
“You are also responsible for Yuna-gyeong’s death.”
Whether it was because of his own greed or the intervention of a Constellation, it was true that Park Hyun-gun was the one who took the children of the orphanage hostage and forced Yuna-gyeong to carry out a suicide bombing.
But that didn’t mean Lee Cheon-gi was innocent.
Regardless of the circumstances, he was the one who ordered the hit on Limon.
He was also the one who failed to manage his subordinate.
Even if he was used as a puppet, Lee Cheon-gi clearly bore responsibility for this situation, and Limon had never forgiven him.
He had merely postponed the punishment until he found the true culprit.
And now that he had killed Park Hyun-gun, Limon no longer had a reason to keep Lee Cheon-gi alive.
“Are you going to kill me?”
As if he had already expected it, Lee Cheon-gi asked calmly.
Limon stared at him for a moment and then shook his head.
“No, I won’t kill you now.”
It was a very unexpected answer.
Especially for Lee Cheon-gi, who had been prepared for death since the moment he lost to Limon.
“But it’s not because you’re a Monarch.”
In a languid voice, much like when he cut down Park Hyun-gun, Limon continued quietly.
“It’s not because I’m worried about the social chaos your death would bring, nor is it to gain something through you, or because I fear some possible retaliation later.”
Those were reasons anyone else would consider.
But Limon declared arrogantly that such things mattered little when it came to collecting Yuna-gyeong’s blood debt.
As one who had even cut down a Constellation, he stated his reason for sparing Lee Cheon-gi.
“I’m simply not killing you because you’re too stupid to be worth punishing.”
It was a ruthless insult.
It was an excessively cold evaluation for someone who held the title of a Monarch.
Yet, Lee Cheon-gi didn’t show even a hint of anger or denial.
He, more than anyone, acknowledged that he deserved such an evaluation.
“Bear this in mind.”
To the silent Lee Cheon-gi, Limon said, “Ignorance can never be an excuse, and you are still straddling the line.”
The idea that ignorance isn’t a sin is nonsense.
Sometimes, even incompetence becomes a sin.
This time, the scales had tipped only slightly.
If those scales were to move even a hair’s breadth to the other side, his current decision could be overturned at any moment.
“I will continue to watch you.”
It was both a warning and a declaration.
Just as Anubis, the sentinel of the underworld, weighed the hearts of the dead to judge if their sins were heavier than a feather, it was a warning from a transcendent being that he would continue to judge Lee Cheon-gi’s life until he died.
“And when you cross that line…”
*Slice.*
The moment Limon’s words cut off, a pair of rimless glasses fell to the floor.
They were an exquisite item made by a top-tier craftsman using all sorts of expensive materials, but compared to what Limon’s sword had actually cut, they were nothing but trash.
*Drip.*
One eye was closed before he knew it.
Red blood flowed from the gap.
His eyelid trembled from the pain.
It signaled what Limon had just cut and what Lee Cheon-gi had lost.
Watching Lee Cheon-gi lose one eye, Limon finished his sentence in a languid voice.
“I will come to collect your remaining eye and the debt of ninety-six days.”
It was a cruel thing to say.
It was an excessively cold sentence to pronounce to someone who had just lost an eye.
But Lee Cheon-gi did not show anger, sadness, fear, or regret.
He didn’t even use a Skill like **[Pain Suppression]** to dull the agony.
He endured the pain while fully conscious and simply nodded his head.
“…I will keep that in mind.”
As if trying to discern the truth of that answer, Limon stared into Lee Cheon-gi’s one remaining eye with his calm, golden gaze for a moment.
“As long as you understand.”
*Clank.*
Limon sheathed his sword and turned around, as if he no longer had any business there.
As he was about to leave indifferently, Lee Cheon-gi suddenly asked.
“What will you do now?”
“Me?”
Perhaps because the question was quite unexpected, Limon stopped walking.
He turned his head slightly to look at Lee Cheon-gi and smiled.
Now that he had paid back Yuna-gyeong’s blood debt, he stated the thing he had to do with the highest priority.
“I should go prepare for my wedding.”