As he focused, the sound of footsteps became even clearer. Were they wearing thick boots? The steps were heavy.

As the footsteps drew closer, Dung Beetle realized there were two sets, not one.

“Ah, it’s finally over.”

Just as he expected, two men emerged from the darkness.

Familiar gas masks, familiar uniforms… They were undoubtedly cleaners from the same guild.

“Damn it, cleaning up fellow cleaners... what a day.”

Each of them was dragging a corpse in a cleaner’s uniform, holding one leg apiece. A long trail of blood marked the path they had taken.

...Could these guys be the ones who brought the bodies here?

Holding his breath, Dung Beetle moved out of their line of sight.

As he just managed to slip out of view, the two cleaners tossed the bodies onto the pile of corpses.

Squish! Blood and filth splattered as the bodies hit the stack. There was no respect for the dead.

Frowning, Dung Beetle sneaked further away from their line of sight. He couldn’t forget the words the Player had said before killing him—how their superiors had sold them out.

If that were true, these cleaners were potential enemies.

'...I’ll hide and follow them when they leave, then sneak out of here.'

While Dung Beetle was planning his escape, the two cleaners turned on their flashlights and began inspecting the pile of bodies. Unfortunately, they started heading in his direction.

'Could they have noticed me?'

Luckily, his fear was unfounded. The cleaners stopped just short of where he was hiding and began talking.

“Hey, we’ve got some time, right? Wanna grab some loot?”

“Loot? I mean, we’ve got like 40 minutes left.”

“Man, we’re doing overtime. Gotta take something home, right?”

As soon as Dung Beetle heard the word 'loot,' he had to suppress a wave of nausea.

Looting. It was a term used by some cleaners to refer to scavenging valuables from corpses.

‘Looting, huh? Disgusting bastards.’

It was a filthy act, both legally and morally inexcusable.

Even the name irked him. Looting? Such a hypocritical term, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, like it was just a light-hearted act.

Non-cleaners called it something else.

Maggot work.

Because of the maggot work of a few dirty cleaners, the reputation of cleaners was plummeting. During his life, the foreman and his crew never looted. They were cleaners, not maggots.

In that sense, these two were maggots.

Disrespecting the dead, blinded by greed, abandoning their last shred of humanity.

‘These guys get to live, while we...’

Watching the cleaners poke through the pile of bodies, Dung Beetle bit his lip. The memory of his dead comrades stirred something deep within him.

But now wasn’t the time. He had to endure. Just hold on, and think about everything else after he got out of here. Whether it was escape or revenge, right now, he had to hide.

As Dung Beetle reminded himself to be patient, the cleaners moved among the bodies, searching for anything valuable.

“Damn, these thugs don’t even have a single gold tooth.”

“What thug in Incheon would have money? If they had any, they’d be in Kaesong or Busan. This damn city is only full of scum and corpses.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Clearly experienced at this, the cleaners expertly looted the corpses. They pried open mouths to pull out gold teeth, stripped off clothes, and rifled through pockets.

Soon enough, they reached the bodies of Dung Beetle’s comrades.

'Please, just pass them by.'

Despite his silent plea, the cleaners didn’t skip over his comrades.

Those vile bastards, maggots in cleaners’ uniforms...

“Damn, this guy really left in a clean state.”

One of them stopped in front of the foreman’s body, shining his flashlight over it. The mangled corpse lay exposed in the beam, but there was no sign of respect or decency from the cleaner. Instead, they kicked the body and snickered mockingly.

“Shame, huh? Guy was always going on about not looting. Look how he ended up—completely ground to paste.”

“Kept it up and got himself killed. You didn’t know the whole team was blacklisted by the higher-ups?”

“Blacklisted? But the guy was good at his job. What happened?”

“The boss told him to snatch a few corpses, and he refused. Said you shouldn’t disrespect the dead or something.”

“Wow, real noble guy. Did he think he was some priest from the Order or something? They’re just corpses.”

Watching them, Dung Beetle clenched his teeth. His blood ran cold, but his mind was burning.

“Didn’t the foreman have some money saved up? He didn’t have any family, right?”

“All that money’s going into the boss’s pocket, so don’t even think about it. Unless you want to end up lying here, too.”

“Tsk, fine. What about the others? That one guy—Duckbae—didn’t he wear a big gold ring?”

“Gold ring?”

As soon as Duckbae’s name came up, Dung Beetle closed his eyes.

If he had to watch these maggots desecrate his comrades’ bodies, especially Duckbae’s, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

‘Don’t watch. Don’t watch and hold on... just hold on.’

Curling up, Dung Beetle silently prayed.

Angel, please. Why?

Why does a maniac who sees people as experience points get to walk freely? Why did my comrades have to die while that bastard of a supervisor sold us out for 250,000 won each? Why are my comrades being mocked and insulted, even in death? Angel, God beyond the dimensional gate, please answer me.

If good truly exists, why is this world so unfair and cruel?

...There was no answer. As always.

“Oh, found it! The gold ring!”

“Hell yeah, finally got something worth the trouble.”

Dung Beetle couldn’t stop himself from looking up as the excited voices reached his ears.

'...Ah.'

He saw them twisting Duckbae’s finger to remove the gold ring, and then they carelessly tossed his body aside.

Thud! Duckbae’s upper half rolled across the floor. For a brief moment, Dung Beetle’s eyes met Duckbae’s.

Tears of blood flowed from Duckbae’s eyes.

...And at that moment, something inside Dung Beetle snapped.

“What kind of loser wears a gold ring when he’s not even married?”

“Was he wearing it just so we could loot it?”

“Hahaha, yeah, looks like he was just carrying it around for us.”

Unaware of what was happening in the darkness, the cleaners laughed as they continued scavenging the corpses.

“Hey, time’s running out. Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

“Didn’t they say there was an elf in here? You go check out the elf, I’ll go through a few more cleaners.”

The one who had taken Duckbae’s gold ring moved closer to Dung Beetle, while the other headed toward the elf’s corpse.

Instinctively, Dung Beetle realized this was his chance. He quietly removed his blood-soaked uniform.

It was a cheap, tough uniform with no advantages other than its durability.

But in this moment, it was all Dung Beetle needed. He twisted the uniform into a makeshift rope.

Holding the coiled fabric in his hands, he crept up behind the cleaner who had taken Duckbae’s ring, moving silently.

And then...

“What else can I gra—ghhk!”

With the makeshift rope, Dung Beetle wrapped it around the cleaner’s neck and began to strangle him. Tightening the rope with all his strength, he locked his legs around the cleaner’s body.

“Ghkk! Gghhkk...”

Caught off guard, the cleaner clawed at his throat, struggling and kicking wildly.

But it was futile.

The filthy maggot who could only insult the dead had no hope of escaping the noose.

It wasn’t long before his body went limp. Dung Beetle swallowed as he looked down at the maggot he had killed.

‘Ah.’

His grip slackened, and his mind felt cold and numb. Murder... This was murder.

‘I killed someone.’

But something felt off. Strangely, he didn’t feel anything.

No sense of achievement, no guilt. It was as natural as drinking water when thirsty, as stepping on a maggot when you saw one… It just felt like the obvious thing to do.

Yet murder was still murder. Dung Beetle was shocked by how little he felt about it.

‘Why does this feel like nothing?’

Suddenly, the voice of the other cleaner looting the elf’s body echoed through the warehouse.

“Hey! Jackpot! There’s a necklace on the elf’s body!”

Calling out to his partner, the cleaner casually shone his flashlight toward Dung Beetle...

“Oh, shit...?”

The beam of light revealed Dung Beetle, standing over the corpse of the strangled maggot.

As the light hit him, Dung Beetle turned his head, and their eyes met. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Even with their gas masks on, both knew what the other was thinking.

Kill him. This guy’s crazy.

A brief silence hung between them, then vanished.

The maggot moved first, turning without hesitation and sprinting away. Dung Beetle threw the dead maggot aside and gave chase.

The pursuit didn’t last long.

"Aaagh, damn it!"

Thud! The maggot tripped over the corpses he had thrown earlier. The dead didn’t care about his misstep, and the sky remained silent, but he was now paying for the disrespect he had shown them.

"Damn it! Stay back! Stay away!"

The maggot flailed in the puddle of filth that had leaked from the corpses, but Dung Beetle was already on him.

Desperately, the maggot tried to resist, kicking wildly to escape, but he hadn’t stood a chance the moment Dung Beetle pinned him down. With Dung Beetle on top, he pressed his knees into the man’s chest and stomach, crushing him beneath his weight.

“W-wait, ghhh... wait... agh!”

The moment Dung Beetle gained the upper hand, he started raining down punches. There was no hesitation in him. The maggot had mocked the foreman, had desecrated Duckbae’s body.

“P-please, spare me! Please, I—gghhh! Stop!”

The maggot begged for his life, flailing his arms, but Dung Beetle’s fists didn’t stop.

Thwack, thwack, thud! The gas mask tore apart, blood spattered, and finally, something cracked. Dung Beetle let go, allowing himself to sink into raw violence and instinct.

He no longer knew whether his fists were pounding down on the maggot’s head or if he was smashing something else—something long suppressed deep within himself. He didn’t care to know.

Dung Beetle didn’t stop until he physically couldn’t anymore.

And then, the moment he paused...

『Finally.』

‘It’ spoke.

『You’ve crossed the line.』