Chapter 230: There’s No City For Trash Mob

Shortly after Moryne’s coordinates were sent, Wollard hurriedly left his residence to relay Moryne’s message to the Blue Rat and the Saintess’ father.

The reactions of those remaining in the house to the sound of his receding footsteps varied.

Seti and Corvus were deep in thought, Neti was already searching for tourist spots in Chicago on her smartphone, and…

The Saintess showed no concern at all.

“When will we return to the Academy?”

She nonchalantly pulled snacks like nachos out of the fridge as if her kidnapped mother didn’t matter at all.

At her almost unfilial(?) behavior, Yeomyeong was left speechless and stared at her. The Saintess sighed deeply.

“Yeomyeong, this isn’t something you need to worry about. Mom will take care of herself.”

“…Are you sure she doesn’t need help?”

“And what about you, Yeomyeong? If you interfere any further, your plan might be disrupted.”

“…”

Revenge against the Korean government—that was the part the Saintess emphasized. Yeomyeong appreciated her consideration, fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

With the Saintess herself saying this, what more could he, essentially a stranger, do? Moryne wasn’t even his mother-in-law.

Yeomyeong stood from the table, patted the Saintess on the shoulder, and headed toward the basement.

Knight Harry was writing a report labeled [Location of the LA Church of the Apocalypse Branch] in the tightly closed basement. He put his pen down the moment he saw Yeomyeong.

“Looks like things didn’t go as smoothly with the Blue Rat as expected.”

“…Were you watching?”

“No, I just guess based on your expression.”

Saying that, Harry picked up the coffee pot and poured Yeomyeong a cup of coffee. Yeomyeong, who had just been robbed of his coffee by Seti, accepted it without complaint.

A stale, middle-aged coffee.

Yeomyeong silently sipped the caffeine-laden drink and, when he had nearly finished the cup, he spoke up.

“There’s an important contact I need. Could you help me track it down?”

“A contact?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but… it’s a place I need to approach carefully.”

The contact that Kahal Magdu had left in his mind, along with a magic spell to naturalize him.

Thinking back to what it had said, it seemed like the contact was for a place that could help him consume the dragon’s heart.

Rather than contacting them recklessly, Yeomyeong planned to first investigate the person’s identity through information companies.

Anyway, Yeomyeong picked up a pen, wrote down the number he had in his mind, and handed it to Harry.

However, Harry furrowed his brow as soon as he received the number.

“Where did you get this contact from?”

“Why? Do you recognize the number?”

“I do. In fact, it’s strange that you don’t know it.”

As Yeomyeong tilted his head slightly, Harry pressed his chin with his fist and said.

“This number seems to be linked to the Chicago black market. I need to verify, but… it seems like it’s at least a manager-level number.”

“…”

Chicago, here? Yeomyeong felt a strange coincidence… no, a sense of fate.

There is no coincidence. Everything is fate…

Why did the words of the former Saintess come to mind right now?

However, there was no hesitation. Yeomyeong stood up and cleared the large table in the basement as he said.

“Please find out the identity of that contact and get six tickets for a flight to Chicago.”

“Two days should be enough for that. But why are you cleaning up the table?”

Instead of answering, Yeomyeong placed his hand on the table and said.

“Also, you need to call Sancho.”

“My Vice Captain? What’s going on…”

Before Harry could ask why, Yeomyeong pulled a corpse out of his inventory.

It was the Death Knight he had first taken down at the Necromancer’s club.

Upon seeing the body of the former Vice Captain of the Knight Order, Harry closed his mouth and, trembling slightly, spoke.

“This corpse… where did you…?”

“The Necromancers dug up this person and turned him into a Death Knight.”

Harry’s face twisted horribly as soon as the word “Death Knight” was spoken.

“What the hell…”

“Before he fell, he left a last will.”

“…”

Yeomyeong continued without hesitation and then put the body back in the inventory. Harry stared at the table where the body had vanished, then wiped his face.

“The Knight Order owes you again. Wait, I’ll contact Vice Captain Sancho, and I’ll handle everything you asked for as quickly as possible.”

After Yeomyeong went down to the basement, in the living room.

Neti fiddled with her smartphone and asked the Saintess.

“Saintess, are you really okay with this?”

The Saintess, who was stuffing nachos into her mouth without cola, made a sullen expression.

“…Neti, are you going to say that too?”

“Well, I may not understand your feelings since I’m pretty much an orphan… but still, she’s your mother, right?”

Instead of explaining the political issues surrounding herself, her trust in her parents, or the risks when Yeomyeong got involved, the Saintess flicked the nacho she was holding and aimed it at Neti’s forehead.

She meant to hit it.

However, just as she was about to launch the nacho, Seti, who had been quietly leaning against a chair, spoke.

“Neti.”

“What is it, Unnie?”

“Shh.”

“…Okay.”

With just one word, Seti subdued her younger sister and then fell silent again.

In the quiet living room, the Saintess chewed on her nacho and reflected on the Foresight she had seen earlier that day.

The rooftop room with the strangely familiar city night view? Or was it a studio room? Anyway, it was the place where she had been naked with Yeomyeong.

What exactly happened, and why was that happening in the future? Did she get permission from Seti? Yeomyeong didn’t seem like someone who would have an affair.

Of course, considering that Yeomyeong kissed her on the forehead, it was clear that he had feelings for her already.

In a way, it was natural. How long had they been together, and how many cases had they solved together? If he had no feelings, would he even be human? He’d be a stone.

Furthermore, she was confident in her appearance. Honestly speaking, if she removed her blindfold and seduced him, she was confident she could get Yeomyeong anytime…

At that moment, Neti’s smartphone screen appeared in the Saintess’ view through her blindfold.

Neti seemed to be trying to make up for her disappointment at not being able to go to Chicago, so she was looking at the city’s spots on the internet map. The screen flashed, showing various views of Chicago.

Famous tourist spots, restaurants, Holy Name Cathedral, and alleyways with towering skyscrapers.

However, those skyscrapers looked strangely familiar. What was this? She was shocked after gathering her mana to focus her vision on the buildings.

The buildings in Chicago… were the exact same ones she had seen in the rooftop room in Foresight.

“…”

A single drop of regret followed her throat, two drops of shock, and one brief realization.

No wonder it felt familiar!

The Saintess put down the nacho and hit the back of her head against the sofa. Could it be… that I’ve changed the future?

Originally, the future was supposed to be her going to Chicago with Yeomyeong and spending a night like that… but if she rejected him and the future changed, then…?

“Oh, damn it…”

Ignoring Corvus staring at her with a regretful gaze, the Saintess grabbed her head and pondered.

What should I do? Should I still ask to go to Chicago? What excuse should I make? Should I say I’m really worried about my mom?

Would that even work? What should I do? How…

Just as her thoughts reached a peak of confusion…

Creak.

The basement door opened, and Yeomyeong came out. He seemed a bit more serious than when he had gone down.

“There’s a situation, so we’ll probably be leaving in two days. Is everyone okay with that?”

“I don’t mind.”

Starting with Neti, who waved at Yeomyeong, Seti and Corvus also agreed. The only one left speechless was the Saintess.

“O Five Gods… What have I done…!”

As she watched Yeomyeong go upstairs to the second-floor bedroom, the Saintess called out to the gods. Of course, the gods in the sky gave no answer.

Exactly two days after Harry left the house at Yeomyeong’s request.

Yeomyeong went to the garage of the house to find Dilla Katakfoyer.

He had something to ask her—or rather, the necromancer in her.

“Y-yes, ask me anything.”

Dilla, who had been reading a book in the corner of the garage, bowed excessively as soon as she saw Yeomyeong.

Was it because Seti, who held her leash, was obsessed with Yeomyeong? No, it was because he was the only one in the group who bothered to feed her.

She felt like a wild animal tamed by food. Could it be that the Saintess and Seti had been won over the same way? Was she also going to end up hopelessly attached to him like they were?

Fear crept up her spine, but she couldn’t refuse Yeomyeong’s food. The sandwiches he made were delicious enough to erase all worries…

“Ham and cheese sandwich today? Thank you.”

…Anyway, Yeomyeong spoke as Dilla devoured her sandwich like a starving beast.

“It’s nothing difficult. I just want your advice or opinion on this flame.”

He gathered twisted mana in his right hand as he spoke, and a blue flame ignited.

It was a magnificent spell, but the cost was severe. The twisted mana twisted his veins and muscles, and the heat of the flames scorched his skin.

The sickening smell of burning flesh and blood.

It was clearly painful, yet Yeomyeong silently maintained the fire.

“…”

What the hell was that? Dilla stared blankly at the flames, forgetting even to swallow the sandwich in her mouth.

After a brief moment, Yeomyeong withdrew the flame and spoke.

“This spell is called Tuskegee’s Ghost Fire. It burns the living and resurrects the dead.”

A spell named after the Tuskegee Institute, once run by the Angel of Death, John Cutler.

Who in the world named a spell like that? Whatever the case, it was undoubtedly a terrifying magic.

Dilla gulped nervously and responded.

“Um… what kind of advice would you like?”

“Anything—about its function, usage, or applications. Just tell me whatever comes to mind.”

“Uh… then, um… how long have you been practicing this spell?”

“A day and a half.”

“…?”

Dilla looked at him with a ‘Is this bastard messing with me?’ expression, but when she realized he was completely serious, she lowered her gaze.

A short silence followed by an even shorter deliberation.

“Uh… In my humble opinion, there’s nothing to add or remove. You should just keep practicing.”

“…Really?”

In the end, she had no real advice to offer. Seeing Yeomyeong’s slightly disappointed expression, Dilla flinched.

Wait, I can’t let him think I’m useless.

Perhaps fueled by fear, her mind worked faster than usual. Just as Yeomyeong turned to leave the garage—

“W-wait a minute!”

“What?”

“I-I do have advice! I have something to tell you!”

Yeomyeong stopped and turned back to her. Dilla couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity—no, she must not miss it.

“Y-you’re getting burned by your own flames, right? There’s a way to reduce that.”

“A way to reduce the burns?”

“Yes! And it’s not even difficult. Instead of using your body, use your blood! I mean, if you channel the ghost fire through the blood from your wounds, your body won’t…”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Yeomyeong unsheathed his sword and sliced his palm open.

At once, drops of blood splattered onto the ground, and twisted mana ignited the ghost fire above them.

The flame was noticeably weaker than when it had come directly from his body, but just as she had said, it no longer consumed his flesh.

Although the twisted mana still rebelled and attacked his veins… it was now at a level that could be used regularly without much difficulty.

“I hadn’t thought about using blood for magic, but it’s actually not bad?”

“D-did that help?”

“Yeah, it helped more than I expected. Thanks for the advice. By the way, is there anything you’d like for dinner?”

“Dinner? Well, if I had to choose…”

Dilla thought of tacos and chimichangas, but as she gazed at the ghost fire ignited by Yeomyeong’s blood…

Screeechhhh!

The sound of a car stopping in front of the house reached them. It wasn’t just one car—it was at least five cars stopping simultaneously.

What was going on? Dilla looked out the garage toward the front yard with a puzzled expression, and Yeomyeong spoke in a slightly apologetic tone.

“Sorry. I won’t be able to make dinner.”

A large hearse and four black cars surrounding it arrived in front of the house.

“…What’s this? A hearse? Saintess, are these your guests?”

Neti was the first to glance outside, but the Saintess didn’t answer. She was staring blankly at the ceiling.

Of course, Neti didn’t expect an answer. The Saintess had been like this for the past two days.

“…It looks like the Knight Order is here.”

In the meantime, Seti, who had followed Neti’s gaze outside, spoke.

“The Knight Order?”

“It means it’s time to leave. Pack your things.”

Neti followed her sister’s instructions. Thanks to her brother-in-law’s subspace, they had few to nearly no belongings.

Three bags, a passport with a fabricated identity, and a smartphone—that was all.

When she had finished packing her few belongings, large men in black mourning clothes began to get out of the cars.

Without a word, they pulled a large coffin from the hearse.

The coffin was covered with silk, and after she saw that, Neti was certain these people were truly from the Knight Order.

The sword, mace, and thick helmet depicted on the silk were the symbols of the Imperial Knights.

Knock knock.

The first knight holding the coffin knocked on the door of the house.

Why would they knock on an already open door? As Neti tilted her head in confusion, Yeomyeong, who had just come out of the garage, answered.

“Who are you?”

“We are those who seek honor.”

The voice that came from outside was unmistakably that of Sancho. Yeomyeong straightened his clothes and responded again.

“Whose honor are you seeking?”

“The honor of all of us.”

“Who are ‘we’?”

“The sword of the Empire, the shield of the weak, the protectors of oaths, the servants of justice, the pillars of order.”

Neti looked at her brother-in-law, suddenly unsure of what was going on, but Yeomyeong continued to stare at the door with a serious expression.

At that moment, Corvus, who had been beside the Saintess, flew over and whispered to Neti.

“Shh, don’t interrupt. This seems like the funeral rites of the Knight Order.”

“Oh… but how does Brother-in-law know that?”

“…I’m not really sure myself.”

As the crow and the third sister spoke, Seti silenced them by placing a finger over her lips.

“Neti, be quiet.”

“…Aren’t you curious?”

“Documentary.”

“…What?”

“Shh.”

“…”

What exactly was a documentary to her brother-in-law…? As Neti pondered whether she was simply lacking common sense, the funeral rites were nearing their end.

“…Now, swear to Mordak.”

“We swear. He was a comrade we could stand back-to-back with, a friend we could share our burdens with, and a brother who set an example for all… In the name of Mordak, we swear.”

After hearing Sancho’s oath, Yeomyeong hesitated briefly before gripping the door handle.

Just as he was about to recite the final passage—

“As His scythe, I shall bear witness to your vows.”

The Saintess interrupted. The words that came from her lips were slightly different from what Yeomyeong knew of the traditional rites, but her authority far outweighed such details.

Yeomyeong bowed his head in gratitude toward the Saintess, then opened the door.

The knights carrying the coffin entered the house in silence, placed it down, and carefully lifted the lid.

Normally, this would be the point where the body, wrapped in linen, was placed inside, but Yeomyeong used his inventory to lay the Vice Captain’s body in the coffin neatly.

The twisted magic that had once clung to the corpse had been removed, and even the severed neck wound had been neatly restored, leaving the body looking as peaceful as if it were merely asleep.

Now, it was time to close the coffin and have the priest bless it.

As the knights glanced expectantly at the Saintess, she smiled softly and stepped toward the coffin.

Only then did Sancho close the coffin lid, and the Saintess placed her palm upon it.

“Merciful Mordak, here before You lies a knight who lived by his oath and now returns to You.”

It was a prayer no different from usual, yet the knights gazed at the Saintess with reverence.

It was only natural—they had never expected the Saintess herself to offer the funeral prayer.

“Grant his comrades blessings equal to the number of vows he upheld, and offer his friends comfort equal to the vows he could not keep…”

When the Saintess’ brief prayer ended, the knights stood up once more and carried the coffin outside.

The heavy steps continued for a moment.

And with the coffin finally loaded onto the hearse, the funeral rites were complete.

As the knights, including Harry, surrounded the hearse, only Sancho turned back toward the house.

Clad in black mourning clothes, he bowed deeply to Yeomyeong, the Saintess, and the rest of their group in turn.

“Once again… I am indebted to you beyond repaying. Truly… thank you.”

“I only did what I could.”

Yeomyeong answered simply, and Sancho gave a small smile.

“Not everyone takes action just because they can. To me, you are a hero.”

“…”

Yeomyeong scratched his nose, feeling embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of reaction he had anticipated.

Sensing that Yeomyeong had had enough of the sentimentality, Sancho reached into his coat and pulled out two small paper envelopes.

“One is the check I promised Miss Seti, and the other is what you requested—six plane tickets to Chicago. The flight departs in the evening, so you have plenty of time to get to the airpo—”

That was when the Saintess suddenly shouted.

“Plane tickets to Chicago!? Really?!”

“…”

Her voice was so loud that even the knights waiting outside turned their heads. Standing right next to her, Yeomyeong rubbed his ringing ears before speaking.

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to go?”

“Uh… well…”

The Saintess fumbled for words, unable to come up with an answer, and Yeomyeong chuckled.

“You were worried about your mom, weren’t you?”

“…”

“If you were struggling with it that much, you should’ve just said so. We still have time, so let’s hurry and go help her.”

Did he misunderstand it? The Saintess was relieved that her blindfold concealed her expression as she turned away.

Meanwhile, Sancho, who had been watching the scene with a satisfied look, took out another smartphone and handed it to Yeomyeong.

“…What’s this?”

“It’s a smartphone with information about how to enter the Chicago black market and the contact details of the person who owns it. Don’t forget to take it with you.”

This might be the most important item of all. Yeomyeong accepted the smartphone without hesitation.

Having completed the transaction, Sancho turned to leave the house but suddenly seemed to remember something and returned to Yeomyeong.

In a voice so quiet that others couldn’t hear, he whispered into Yeomyeong’s ear.

“Did you know? The periods when the Incheon Butcher and the Dragon Liberator were active… They overlapped so much that it’s impossible for them to be the same person.”

“…”

Sancho knew he wasn’t the Player. But this wasn’t a threat—it was a sincere piece of advice.

“I don’t know the details, but others might notice. It’s better to be careful from now on. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

After patting Yeomyeong on the shoulder, Sancho left the house.

How long did they watch the back of the departing director? Setti nudged Yeomyeong with her elbow.

“Should we go now?”

Yeomyeong nodded after glancing around at his companions and putting their belongings into his inventory.

“…Yeah, let’s go.”

To Chicago, another city with a Dimensional Portal, where countless fates converge.