Chapter 254: The Road To The Demon King (4)

The hideout of the dwarf gangsters… no, loafers, was in a conspicuous location.

It was the large bar right next to the central hub where the black market corridors intersected.

The exterior of the bar was so gaudy that it made one frown.

Instead of a signboard, a neon sign shaped like the American Flag was flashing, and at the entrance, dwarves clad in elaborate traditional armor stood guard.

An American flag in the black market, huh?

You couldn’t find a comedy more absurd than this. In the black market, where everyone here committed tax evasion left and right, they claimed to be patriots—Did they just throw their duty to pay taxes into a pot and make soup out of it?

Suppressing the sarcasm rising to his throat, Yeomyeong followed Hamilton Dune and the other dwarves into the bar.

It didn’t seem to be a dwarf-exclusive establishment, as there were humans drinking heavily in various corners.

Additionally, dwarves were playing billiards, eating meals, and customers in all sorts of masks turned the bar into utter chaos.

At that moment, one of the dwarves who had followed Hamilton ran to the center of the bar and shouted.

“Comrades! Today, we have triumphed over those taco bastards!”

The moment the dwarf finished speaking, an explosive cheer erupted.

Was it because they were happy to have beaten up the taco guys? No, it was because of what Hamilton said next.

“Bartender? Sound the drum three times immediately. Put the tab on me.”

The bartender promptly struck the drum adorning the bar table. Boom, boom, boom—each thud of the drum resonated through the bar, amplifying the guests’ cheers.

Hamilton enjoyed the continuous cheers, then glanced at the bewildered Yeomyeong and his companions and explained.

“Back in the days at Nine Peaks Mountain, worker dwarves used to drink during their breaks. And it was this very drum that signaled break time.”

Did the drum sound mean free drinks? Curious, Yeomyeong asked to confirm.

“Since the drum was struck three times, does that mean three free drinks?”

“Correct.”

“Why three drinks specifically? Does the number have some special significance?”

“No, it’s just that one drink feels too little, and two drinks are kind of awkward. So, three it is.”

As soon as Hamilton finished speaking, other dwarves raised their glasses toward him.

“Hamilton! Have a beer here!”

Hamilton downed the offered drink in one go, then waved off those trying to give him another.

“I’ve brought guests today, so I’ll drink with you all later.”

With that, the dwarves scattered to continue drinking on their own, while Hamilton led Yeomyeong and the others to a spacious table in the back of the bar.

From this spot, one could oversee the entire bar, and the large table could seat at least ten people in a row. Apart from Yeomyeong’s group, three dwarves were already seated there.

Once they settled into their seats, Hamilton spoke first.

“If you don’t mind, may I choose the menu?”

The moment Yeomyeong nodded, a server hurried over. Without even glancing at the menu, Hamilton ordered.

“Ten servings of the banquet course. Tell the owner to take special care since we have important guests.”

Watching the server dash toward the kitchen, Yeomyeong once again took in the bar’s scenery.

People pouring drinks as if they feared no tomorrow, trying to forget today. The scent of alcohol, reminiscent of tears. A melancholic jazz band playing on a dimly lit stage in the corner.

Amidst the unfamiliar scenery, Yeomyeong found a familiar sense of Incheon. As he absorbed it all, Seti traced letters on his thigh with her finger.

I, dig, information.

Yeomyeong silently agreed. And then, the Saintess, who had been watching them with curious eyes, raised her own finger and began rubbing Yeomyeong’s thigh in the same manner.

It wasn’t that she had written anything. It was more like a playful gesture as if she was trying to poke at something she couldn’t have, and Yeomyeong swatted the Saintess’s hand.

…Well, anyway.

By the time the dwarves started passing around their glasses, Seti spoke up.

“Mr. Hamilton, thank you for inviting us to this meal.”

“No, no. I should be the one thanking you. Thank you for indulging me.”

Starting with a typical, formal exchange—nothing too special—the conversation between Hamilton and Seti began.

It continued until the banquet course, which was a massive amount of food, filled the table.

The food at the bar was a strange fusion of barley, that dwarves enjoyed, and American-style dishes.

Pulled pork served with barley bread, steaks topped with fried barley, shakes that strangely smelled like McCol…

What should this be called? American-style dwarf cuisine?

As Yeomyeong chewed on a steak that tasted somewhat like the barley bread he had in Gemini City, he looked around.

Seti, who continued her conversation with Hamilton, had eaten just enough not to be impolite, while the Saintess, surprisingly, seemed to enjoy the food and had eaten quite a lot.

…She’s surprisingly a big eater.

Anyway, thanks to all three of them eating the dwarf-style dishes without any complaints and enjoying it, the atmosphere at the table became quite cheerful.

As glasses passed around a few times, conversations like this began to surface.

“That Red Star guy who suddenly appeared, is he really a communist? If so, then it seems the head of the clan was right…”

At the mention of the head of the clan, Hamilton slightly furrowed his brows, but Seti seized the opportunity to respond.

“What’s so important about whether he’s a communist? What matters is that he’s a criminal who attacked civilians after becoming a superhuman.”

“Haha, as expected from a superhuman—your perspective is so different from an ordinary dwarf like me. But for us dwarves, whether someone’s a commie or not is the most important thing.”

“Why? Because of revenge? But the Soviet Union is already gone, right?”

Whether it was because of Seti’s exaggerated acting or the alcohol, the dwarf started bringing up things he normally wouldn’t have said.

“Our clan head believes Stalin is still alive. Well, he thinks that Stalin, who became the Demon King, will return someday.”

When the keywords “Stalin” and “Demon King” came up, Hamilton’s eyes turned cold. Of course, this glare was only a fleeting moment, but Yeomyeong didn’t miss it.

Seizing the moment, Yeomyeong swallowed the meat he had been chewing and joined the conversation.

“Stalin becoming the Demon King? That’s an interesting story.”

When he showed interest, the dwarf who had first spoken grew excited and responded.

“It’s a famous story within our clan. When the five commies, symbolizing the five points of the red star, come together—then the path to Stalin shall be opened!”

Seti put down her fork casually and spoke.

“…It sounds like a legend. Who came up with that story?”

“It’s something our clan head started saying after his mind started to wander.”

“Ah… clan head?”

Seti’s response clearly indicated that she thought it wasn’t a legend but rather the ramblings of a senile old man.

The dwarf seemed to expect this reaction and, with a slight smile, added.

“But that’s not all. He also said that if the Golden Seal exists, the path to Stalin can be opened even before the five commies gather.”

“…A seal?”

“It’s the symbol of the dwarven royal family. Well, it’s in the hands of some human now. Thanks to that foolish Darulma…”

At that moment, Hamilton, who had been pouring himself a drink, interrupted.

“Galda, that’s enough.”

“…”

“There’s no need to make our guests uncomfortable with our clan affairs.”

His voice was light and joking, but the dwarf called Galda tactfully shut his mouth.

Meanwhile, Yeomyeong gulped down water to suppress his rising shock.

Stalin, Demon King, Five Commies, the Golden Seal…

When they met Stalin by unlocking the Holy Relic’s restrictions with the seal, he clearly said that such tricks should not be used.

…How does the head of the clan even know all this? Was he not actually crazy?

While Yeomyeong swallowed his chilling realization, Seti shifted the topic.

“Still, the future seems worrying. Tough times are coming for the dwarves.”

“Tough times?”

“The Red Star. If that terrorist isn’t actually a commie, then that means he’s a racist who’s pretending to be one just to attack dwarves.”

The dwarves fell into a brief silence, seemingly unsettled by the term “racist.”

Around the time the Saintess discreetly tore off another piece of bread, the dwarf called Galda spoke again.

“I don’t know if that Red Star bastard is a racist or not… but he’ll pay dearly for daring to lay a hand on our kin.”

“He seemed like quite a strong superhuman in the videos.”

“No matter how strong he is, do you really think he compares to our homeland? If the Big Three step in, that kind of bastard is nothing more than a weakling. Right?”

Galda directed his words toward Hamilton. Hamilton, who had been quietly sipping his drink, raised an eyebrow.

“Unfortunately, the Big Three won’t be coming.”

“What? Why? Do you know how much money our company—”

“…They’re busy with an important national mission.”

“Ah, so that’s why Maker came to Navy Pier? Man, even with all that power, they still choose to defend the homeland. They’re true patriots, almost on par with the Saintess.”

“…The Saintess, huh.”

Hamilton clicked his tongue briefly, as if he had some bad impression of her, before continuing.

“Aside from that, we tried calling in the Holy Sword and other famous superhumans, but most of them were unavailable. Seems like money alone isn’t enough to move them.”

That was the internal information Yeomyeong and Seti had been waiting for. However, Galda didn’t continue the conversation any further. He simply smacked his lips in disappointment, and it seemed like the conversation was coming to an end…

Until the Saintess, who had been silently eating, suddenly spoke up.

“So are you just going to sit back and take it? If the terms are right, we could help you.”

“…Terms? What terms are you talking about?”

The Saintess made a circle with her thumb and index finger—a clear gesture symbolizing money.

Hamilton responded with a friendly smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but unfortunately, the company has already hired a mercenary.”

“Mercenary? Come on, you have plenty of money. Why not hire us as well? You’ve already seen our skills. Compared to us, your average mercenary is just a student.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh… that’s quite a firm stance. That mercenary you hired must be pretty well-known then?”

“They’ve been gaining a lot of fame recently.”

The Saintess rested her chin on her hand, pretending to be intrigued.

“Fame, huh… Could I possibly hear their names?”

“I’m sorry, but the mercenary contract is confidenti—”

At that moment, the Saintess skillfully interrupted his words.

“Well, I’m not trying to uncover any secrets—I just thought I’d earn my keep for this meal. We’ve both been in this business a long time, and you mentioned the mercenary’s rising fame, right? Half the rookies in this industry are scammers.”

“…”

“Even if a broker vouches for them, it’s best not to trust them. If a rookie gets knocked out, those guys take all the mercenary fees. So… could you just tell us the name? If they’re the real deal, we would’ve heard of them.”

As expected of a religious person, the Saintess’ leading questions were impeccable.

Of course, Hamilton, being a businessman who survived in the harsh world of corporate politics, had some immunity to this kind of leading question.

However, wasn’t this supposed to be a casual conversation between friends over drinks?

As the tension loosened and even the other dwarves looked at him curiously, Hamilton couldn’t hold out any longer.

“It’s a mercenary named Mara. You probably haven’t heard of her. Despite her achievements, she’s not very famous, and her alias isn’t well-known yet…”

Hamilton’s sentence was cut off before it could finish. It was because Yeomyeong interrupted him.

“…Mara? The Sixth Heaven Mara?”

“Huh? How did you know that?”

“…”

Yeomyeong kept his mouth shut for a moment to prevent his calm from slipping and then slowly responded.

“…I know him. That guy’s skills are real.”

“Guy? What do you mean by ‘guy’?”

“…?”

“Mara is a woman.”

The next moment, the Saintess, who had been holding her cup, spat out her McColl.

Soe Miri walked toward the sky.

She walked through the dream of the World Tree, which was torn, destroyed, and consumed.

She continued for such a long time that even the dream itself seemed distant.

Eventually, she reached a place without wind or air as time passed.

Below her feet, the academy appeared as a tiny dot on the blue sea, and the round horizon sat between darkness and blueness.

In the dark night sky, where stars twinkled, Soe Miri quietly looked down at the Earth.

The first thing that caught her eye was Europe. The land, without a master of fate, was convulsing as it always did, searching for its protagonist.

However, the convulsion was far from enough to overcome the scenario. Soe Miri felt regret.

She slowly turned her head toward another land, prepared for the scenario.

America.

Unlike South America, which was almost a green hell, North America shone with all sorts of resources and mana. But that shine wasn’t perfect. Among the dazzling light, tiny cracks were spreading.

Cracks that the World Tree alone could see.

Upon closer inspection, the dark cracks were spreading across America like a spider’s web.

It wasn’t something that could be prepared in a day or two. Soe Miri carefully watched the cracks.

Then, after a moment, she found where all the cracks converged.

Chicago—the city where that person was now, not the protagonist.

Soe Miri bit her lip. Why, out of all the vast North America, was it Chicago? Why, why exactly there?

Thinking of Yeomyeong made her hands tremble. Should she tell him now? At this rate, he might get caught in those cracks.

Or perhaps, he was already caught.

Either way, it was something the World Tree couldn’t afford. After briefly chewing on her lip, Soe Miri reached a conclusion

She should tell him.

He couldn’t die in a place like that. If he encountered whoever caused those cracks, Yeomyeong would surely die. Now was the time to avoid it.

However, her resolve didn’t lead to action. As she tried to wake from the dream, five stars surrounded her.

『『『『『Shh. It’s not your turn yet.』』』』』