Three days after the corpse storage was set ablaze and two days after purchasing his weapons, in the early hours of the morning, a black sedan approached Pier 13, hidden in the darkness of the night.

It was unmistakably an expensive car, its headlights cutting eerily through the gloom as it drove deep into the pier.

For almost thirty minutes, the car sat idle, headlights casting long shadows, before anyone emerged.

Two armed men and a man in a suit stepped out.

The suited man, drenched in sweat, wore a look of deep unease, his face contorted with stress.

'Is he from the government, or perhaps...?'

From a distance, Dung Beetle observed them cautiously. He wasn’t sure yet. Could these really be the people the foreman had mentioned?

Was it true that the government was running the Cleaning Guild to sell corpses to necromancers?

Mimicking Park Seti’s technique, Dung Beetle used the Bikak footwork, channeling mana into his legs as he swiftly leapt between containers.

-Sons of bitches, those cleaners... the warehouse... damn it, how could...

As he got closer to the sedan, faint whispers became clearer.

-...for the master... potion... bureaucrat... hero...

As the voices reached his sharpened senses, Dung Beetle couldn’t help but chuckle softly. It was a bitter, disbelieving laugh.

Cleaners, the warehouse, bureaucrats, potion.

So, they were indeed government people.

Dung Beetle’s hand grazed the shotgun at his waist, its cold touch calming his racing mind.

‘The necromancer will be here soon too.’

He didn’t have to wait long. Not long after Dung Beetle had found his position, the loud sound of a vehicle’s exhaust echoed from the only road leading to the pier.

The first thing that caught his eye was a row of five massive headlights, each higher than the average car.

‘A trailer?’

Five colossal trucks, each towing containers as large as those scattered across the pier, rumbled into the docks.

It seemed far too conspicuous for a necromancer, but judging by the look of panic on the suited man's face, these were indeed the necromancer's vehicles.

And, more than anything, the smell.

As the trucks drew nearer, the familiar stench that Dung Beetle had encountered countless times during his days as a cleaner filled the air.

'The smell of rotting corpses...'

-Screech!

The trucks came to a halt deep inside the pier, right in front of the sedan. From the central truck, the door swung open.

"Good evening, Secretary."

A man stepped out, dressed in a clean, formal outfit.

His skin was so pale it almost seemed white, giving him the eerie appearance of a corpse when backlit by the truck’s headlights.

"Y-Yes, good evening. It’s been a while, Lord Bujum. You’ve grown even more... robust."

The suited secretary bowed obsequiously, almost groveling.

Even the armed guards behind him seemed slightly deflated, as if they were meeting a debt collector rather than conducting a transaction.

The necromancer, Bujum, narrowed his eyes in slight confusion at the secretary’s groveling demeanor.

"Secretary, where is the merchandise? Has it not arrived yet?"

"That... well..."

"What is it?"

"There was a bit of... an issue. This delivery... will be delayed."

The air grew cold the moment those words left the secretary’s lips.

Even from his vantage point on top of the container, Dung Beetle could feel the icy tension settle in.

"...An issue?"

"Due to an unfortunate accident... the corpse warehouse was... burned down."

"Burned down? You mean everything was destroyed?"

"Yes, it... it turned out that way."

"Well, this is quite something."

Irritation flashed across Bujum’s pale face but quickly vanished.

"So, I assume there’s a good reason for your presence here, even without the merchandise?"

"Y-Yes! Of course. The higher-ups are deeply regretful about this situation."

"And?"

"For the next delivery, they’ve promised to compensate for the missing bodies by adding an additional seven hundred."

"The next delivery, you say..."

Bujum’s cold gaze swept over the secretary.

"And did you come here intending to pick up your goods from us today?"

"L-Lord Bujum, you know our situation well. With the academy’s enrollment season approaching, we need as many mages as we can..."

The secretary’s forehead nearly touched the ground as he groveled, but Bujum waved him off with a dismissive gesture.

"That’s enough. To be fair, it’s not entirely your fault, Secretary. After all, we’ve been doing this for years now. We can make some allowances."

Bujum snapped his fingers, and something began to move from inside the trailer behind him.

-Uhhnn...

They were once human, still resembled humans, but were no longer human.

Zombies.

They lumbered out of the trailer, carrying a carefully wrapped box to the necromancer’s feet.

Despite the sickening sight of the zombies—clearly once Korean citizens—the secretary showed no fear or disgust.

"Ooh..."

His eyes were fixated on the box they carried.

"Please, verify the contents."

The zombies carefully opened the box, revealing three vials of shimmering liquid.

"The Awakening Potion... it’s as beautiful as ever."

The secretary handled the small vials—each barely larger than a soju bottle—with the care of someone handling priceless jewels.

At that moment, Dung Beetle’s final doubts were erased.

No, he was now certain.

The Cleaning Guild had been gathering corpses for necromancers, and the orders came from the Korean government.

‘All for those damned potions...’

His comrades had died for this. The Player may have wielded the sword, but it was the government that had driven them to their deaths.

With his suspicions now confirmed, Dung Beetle pulled a grenade from his belt.

His fury was brief, and his actions were swift.

He yanked the pin from the grenade and tossed it beneath the container.

By the time the necromancer and the government agents looked up, the grenade had already gone off.

BOOM!

The grenade exploded directly above their heads. The two armed guards were caught in the blast, unable to even scream before being consumed by the explosion.

However, both the necromancer and the secretary managed to survive, shielded by a protective barrier emanating from the small badge on the secretary's lapel.

"We’ve got an uninvited guest."

The necromancer’s first glance went to the secretary.

"You didn’t plan this trap, did you?"

"No! Why would the government... I mean... over there!"

Their conversation was cut short as two more grenades landed at their feet.

"Undead, defend me."

At Bujum’s command, the zombies threw themselves toward the incoming grenades.

BOOM! BOOM!

The explosion tore through the mass of zombies, sending them flying in every direction. It was an excessive display of firepower for just two grenades.

"...Those weren’t ordinary explosives."

Bujum’s eyes narrowed as he inspected the aftermath. The zombies who had thrown themselves on the grenades were all dead, their limbs torn apart by the blast.

There was no divine blessing on those grenades, which meant they must have been rare anti-magic grenades.

"Did the government get caught in their own trap?"

No matter who set off the chain of events, the real issue was the madman throwing grenades from above.

Bujum muttered a spell, shaking his head as he chanted.

"Awaken, you who could not die."

Clank. Behind the truck, something stirred inside the container. A moment later, the door creaked open.

-Uhhhnn...
-Keeeehh...

Inside were more bodies—zombies recently awakened.

"Protect your master."

The container's doors swung wide as a horde of zombies crawled out, forming a wall of bodies around the necromancer.

"Whoever you are, you’ve picked the wrong fight. Do you know who I am?"

"A maggot who feasts on corpses."

Dung Beetle leaped from the container as he spoke. He landed lightly on the ground, like a feather.

"Superhuman?"

Anti-magic grenades and a superhuman... The necromancer quickly deduced the situation.

"...The information about the potion must have leaked."

Dung Beetle didn’t reply as he charged toward the necromancer, who promptly pulled a wand from his coat.

The grotesque wand, adorned with a raven’s skull, glowed green as it pointed toward Dung Beetle.

"An amateur? Your methods are crude. What do you think you can achieve alone?"

Bujum infused his wand with mana and swung it.

Flash! Green liquid shot out from the wand, hurtling toward Dung Beetle.

Instinctively, Dung Beetle dodged, changing his course.

Sizzle! The liquid splashed onto the concrete dock, melting it like butter.

"Undead, kill him."

As if expecting the acid to miss, Bujum immediately commanded the zombies.

The fresher corpses, those with intact legs, responded first.

-Kiiiiaaaahh!

The zombies, now mindless beasts, charged toward Dung Beetle with unbridled fury.

Without hesitation, Dung Beetle lashed out with a kick.

A perfect spinning kick, just like the one Park Seti had shown him, sent the lead zombies crashing to the ground.

But even after dealing with the first few, the rest of the horde surged forward, trampling their fallen comrades.

-Kyaaaaak!

Dung Beetle retreated, putting distance between himself and the zombies. They couldn’t touch him, not with his Bikak footwork, but the real problem was the necromancer.

As Dung Beetle gauged the distance between himself and Bujum, his brows furrowed. The zombies were herding him away from the necromancer, forcing him to keep his distance.

'He's stalling for time?'

Zombies couldn’t defeat a superhuman.

Even with decayed flesh, their bites and scratches could never deal fatal damage to someone like him.

That was common knowledge, proven during the Miami Terror Attack thirty years ago, when hundreds of necromancers were slaughtered.

Even Dung Beetle, a freshly awakened superhuman, knew this. There was no way Bujum didn’t.

Dung Beetle leaped high, using Bikak.

As he soared to twice his height, he finally spotted the necromancer hiding behind the horde.

As expected, the man had his eyes closed, gripping his wand tightly as he murmured an incantation.

'So he’s buying time to complete the spell.'

Now that he knew what was happening, there was only one course of action.

Dung Beetle pulled another grenade from his belt.

He pulled the pin and threw it.

The zombies, seeing the grenade arcing toward their master, swarmed to shield him.

BOOM!

The explosion wiped out a huge portion of the horde.

Though Bujum wasn’t caught in the blast, the sudden need to reposition his zombies had interrupted his spell.

He glared fiercely at Dung Beetle.

"Your grenades won’t last forever. Let’s see how long you can keep this up."

"And you? Let’s see how long you can hide behind your rotting pets."

Dung Beetle dropped to the ground and rushed the zombies.

-Kyaaaah!
-Uhhhnnn...

As the zombies rushed him, Dung Beetle charged right into the fray.

The lead zombie opened its jaws to bite, only to have its skull shattered by a fist.

The next one, arms spread wide to grab him, was sent flying with a powerful kick.

A third, swiping with its claws, had its arm torn clean off.

The zombies' attacks were simple: biting, clawing, grabbing...

But there were too many of them. They swarmed Dung Beetle like an inescapable swamp, endlessly pressing forward.

"You fool. Have you gone mad?"

Watching from afar, Bujum sneered.

He had worried that the superhuman might escape, but here he was, charging headlong into the horde.

He had been cautious about the grenades, only to feel foolish now.

"Pathetic worm. If you want to die so badly, then fine. I’ll grant your wish."

Just as Bujum was about to complete his spell, a deafening gunshot rang out, cutting him off.

BOOM!

The zombies fell like dominoes in the wake of the blast.

"A shotgun?"

Seeing his carefully prepared zombies wiped out in a single blast, Bujum realized this was no ordinary shotgun.

"This lunatic... he came fully prepared."

As Bujum hurried to complete his spell, another shot rang out.

Once again, Dung Beetle’s Remington MH750 roared, and the zombies were swept aside.