From a historical perspective, it was inevitable that the South Korean government would stake everything on the development of superhumans.

The country, devastated by the Korean War, had no resources left, not even infrastructure to speak of.

The only lifeline, the Kaesong dimensional gate, wasn’t truly Korea’s. The entrance was controlled by the Soviet Union, and the exit by the United States, leaving Korea without any authority over it.

Watching the massive wealth pass through the gate, Korea could only bow and be thankful for the scraps left by the two superpowers.

Faced with this unfair reality, some people had this thought:

—The only thing left in this country is its people.

As the Cold War escalated and South Korea achieved economic development with massive aid from the U.S., this thought persisted.

In fact, it became even more solidified:

—People. The only "resource" left in this country is its people.

Human resources.

Koreans literally used people as a resource to develop their country. With murderous working hours and industrial environments that paid no attention to safety...

Although there were occasional voices calling for "human" rights in the humanitarian sense, such people were silenced or killed during the era of military dictatorship.

In this climate, where people were treated as resources, the military took it one step further: Why not turn people into weapons?

Superhumans.

An asymmetric force made of flesh, blood, and mana.

The government and military secretly pursued superhuman development, away from the watchful eyes of the superpowers.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—the government's superhuman development project failed to produce any results for a long time.

Frustrated by repeated failures, the military began to suspect that the scientists involved in the project were deliberately sabotaging it.

Under the boots of the military, the scientists tearfully explained that it wasn’t their fault.

"The key material for superhuman development, mana metal, is monopolized by the Soviets, who gassed the dwarves. And the elixirs? They're controlled by the Americans, who dropped hydrogen bombs on the World Tree."

The military didn’t accept this explanation. They punished the scientists and turned their attention elsewhere.

If a direct approach didn’t work, why not take a roundabout one? Just as the U.S. and the Soviet Union had done, they needed to find a way. After all, this land still had "resources."

The scientists who weren’t punished dutifully followed the military’s orders, just like the scientists under Nazi rule.

Human sacrifices, human experiments, interspecies breeding...

In the name of patriotism, countless "resources" were ground to dust.

And when necromancers and dark wizards, intrigued by these developments, proposed a deal with the government, South Korea crossed a point of no return.

However, the results were undeniable.

Starting with the first Korean mage, Jeon Yong-seop, a proud line of native superhumans was born.

But even with numerous superhumans, the government wasn’t satisfied.

Even after being recognized as a legitimate superhuman nation on the global stage, and regaining full control of the Kaesong dimensional gate after the fall of the Soviet Union...

They still weren’t satisfied. They couldn’t be.

Why had Korea been annexed by Japan? Why had they lost control of the Kaesong gate to the U.S. and Soviet Union, even after achieving independence?

Power! They lacked power.

No matter how many superhumans they created, the thirst for power never faded.

They needed to create stronger superhumans.

Superhumans who could stand against a full-scale Soviet offensive, withstand even nuclear weapons, like the "Margrave" beyond the dimensional gate—superhumans so strong that no one could ever dare challenge Korea again!

And so, the government crossed yet another line.

No one knows exactly how or what line was crossed, but it's clear they did.

The dark wizards working with the government fled in horror, and Jeon Yong-seop defected to the U.S., the situation was so terrifying.

As a result, five girls were born.

The dream children, miracles, the masterpieces of the Korean people that would make South Korea the best in the world...

The girls were born to different parents but shared the same extraordinary nature.

From birth, they could sense and use mana, a given talent. But their abilities were beyond common sense—no, several steps beyond.

They were superhumans who could strengthen their bodies, magicians who could manipulate mana, and saints who could channel divine power.

In the language beyond the dimensional gate, they were All-Masters.

Beings capable of walking all paths of mana simultaneously.

The South Korean government, having created not one but five of these once-in-a-thousand-years beings, reveled in their success.

They openly boasted to the U.S. and Australia on the international stage.

But the joy was short-lived, and the government soon remembered the case of Jeon Yong-seop.

The first Korean mage, who had betrayed his country despite receiving its support, and defected to the U.S., the first traitor.

There was no guarantee the five girls wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. Realistically, the U.S. could offer far more than South Korea ever could.

Before such a tragedy could repeat itself, the South Korean government etched restraints into the girls’ brains. They did this, assuring themselves it was the rational decision.

Of course, there was no opposition. In Korea, every person was a resource, and the five sisters were no exception—they were resources for the nation.

Yes, they were resources. The government saw them as the resources that would prove the Korean people were the best, even beyond Earth.

But not long after, the government's hopes were shattered.

The girls, the five All-Masters in whom the government had invested vast resources... were not as remarkable as expected.

Their innate potential was dazzling. They could move like superhumans while casting magic, and communicate with gods while using magic.

But talent?

Their talent was only slightly above average.

In magic, they couldn’t match the "Vessels" of the Magic Tower, and in divine power, they fell short of the "Saintess."

They showed some promise in martial arts, an area of Korean research, but even there, they couldn’t compare to Jeon Yong-seop’s son, who had defected to the U.S.

The South Korean government couldn’t accept this reality. The fact that the son of a traitor possessed the world's attention-grabbing talent drove them mad.

Yes, they went mad. Consumed by cognitive dissonance and the obsession with "human resources," they descended further into madness.

The government, now insane, discarded the methods they had used to educate the girls and devised a new approach.

A method that could only be implemented in Korea, one that would fill the girls' lack of talent.

After all, don’t humans sometimes discover hidden strength when pushed to the extreme?

Just like beating metal to forge steel, the government pushed the girls to their limits, using their peers, friends, and even their parents.

For example, they would order the girls to master a specific spell and set a time limit.

If they didn’t succeed within that time, a peer would be tortured. If they still failed by the next deadline, a friend, and then…

 

“...Stop.”

Dung Beetle interrupted the story without realizing it. Seti, who had been narrating up to that point, gave an awkward smile.

“Oh, sorry. It wasn’t exactly dinner conversation, was it?”

She glanced at the cup noodles in front of Dung Beetle, then at his face. His reflection, grimacing, was visible in the now soggy noodles.

After fiddling with his chopsticks for a moment, Dung Beetle sighed and looked directly at Seti.

“...Why are you telling me this?”

“Well… I had nothing to say while watching you eat, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to share some of the past with a comrade?”

“...”

“Actually, this is the first time I’ve told anyone this story. But oddly enough, I feel a little better. Is this why therapists always ask about the past?”

Seti covered her mouth and laughed quietly. The corners of her lips, visible between her fingers, curled seductively. Dung Beetle shook his head.

“If talking about the past gave you comfort, I’m glad. But don’t expect to hear mine.”

“...I haven’t even asked yet. But if you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t.”

Dung Beetle stood up, picked up his cup noodles, and began cleaning the area.

Old habits from his days as a janitor kicked in, and while he was up, he gathered the convenience store trash Seti had piled up and threw it all in the trash.

As he cleaned, Seti lay on the bed, watching him.

For someone who had just revealed a colossal secret hidden by the government, she seemed surprisingly carefree.

But Dung Beetle didn’t think her lightheartedness was foolish or ignore it.

People break more easily than one might think, and each person has their own way of doing so.

With a final snap, Dung Beetle finished cleaning and sat back down. Seti spoke up.

“Now that dinner’s over, shall we get back to our conversation?”

“...What conversation?”

“Your original revenge plan, of course. I need to know that to plan what’s next.”

His original revenge plan. Dung Beetle drummed his fingers on the chair as he thought back to his plan.

...Could it even be called a plan? What he’d initially come up with was more of a short-term operation.

Through Jang-man, he secured a stable weapons supply route from the black market, then planned to kill the necromancer and government officials, steal the awakening potion, and then…

“...I intended to lure government officials with the stolen potion, then assassinate key members of the Janitors’ Guild and high-ranking government officials.”

“Huh... hmm... that’s a pretty rough plan, isn’t it?”

Seti’s criticism was spot on. It was a rough plan, and the fact that he’d almost been killed by a necromancer was proof of that roughness.

“Though, considering your talents, it might have worked out in the end...”

Seti rested her chin on her hand, squinting as if calculating something.

Hmm, Dung Beetle, let’s clarify something. The targets of your revenge are everyone associated with the Janitors’ Guild and the necromancers, right?”

Instead of answering, Dung Beetle nodded slightly. Seti, as if expecting this, tapped her lips with a finger.

“From what I know, at least a few hundred people are involved, starting with the head of the Superhuman Bureau.”

Her voice trembled slightly. If at least a few hundred, then how many at most?

“That’s just the minimum. At worst, you’d have to kill up to the president himself.”

“...The president?”

He had anticipated it to some degree. But the reality, now that it was laid out before him, felt different from his expectations. Something heavy settled deep in Dung Beetle’s heart.

“And if you go that far, you’ll become South Korea’s most notorious political terrorist and murderer... Are you okay with that?”

“I am. It’s something I’ve already accepted.”

Dung Beetle responded without hesitation. The compassion and empathy he once had were buried long ago, along with his comrades.

“Accepted, huh... So, you agree that we need to create a new plan?”

“...And you’ll be the one to come up with that plan?”

“No, we will create it together.”

Seti leaned in closer to Dung Beetle, continuing.

“I’ll set the foundation of the plan, but you’ll fill in the details with your improvisation and talents.”

“...You speak as if you’ve already thought of something.”

“I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but I’ve had the basic framework in mind ever since I saw your abilities.”

With a smooth movement, Seti knelt on the bed and approached Dung Beetle.

“If you want to assassinate the president and his ministers, it’s going to take a long, roundabout way. These are old men who know how to protect their lives. Finding where they’re hiding will be a challenge. But what if you could take them all out at once?”

“All at once?”

A proverb flashed through Dung Beetle’s mind—catching all the fish with a single net. Could she be suggesting a plan to wipe out all the government officials at once?

“It’s simpler than you think. When all the government officials are gathered in one place, boom! How does that sound?”

“...What, you want to attack the State Council meeting?”

Dung Beetle sighed quietly and added.

“Breaking through the sorcerers guarding the council would take longer than assassinating the ministers one by one.”

“What if it wasn’t the State Council?”

“The same goes for any place where the government’s top brass gathers. Breaking through the security would be no easy task.”

“What if they all came to meet you instead?”

“...What?”

Dung Beetle’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise at the unexpected answer.

“A meeting where the government officials come to see me? That’s the hardest thing of all.”

“No, it’s possible.”

By then, Seti was right in front of him, lifting a hand to brush his hair back. The usually sullen-faced Dung Beetle looked straight into Seti’s blue eyes.

“With your rather decent looks, brilliant talents, and... fame. With all that, the government officials wouldn’t be able to resist coming.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Explain it more clearly.”

“Create a fake identity, then become famous. You could become a patriot or a traitor—whichever suits you. As long as the bait is thrown, that’s all that matters.”

“...”

“Once you’re famous, achieve something noteworthy. The bigger, the better. Even some cheap patriotic achievement will do. Politicians will flock to you just for that.”

At last, Dung Beetle understood what she was suggesting. And at the same time, he realized the flaw in the plan.

“...Hate to break it to you, but becoming famous enough to make the president or ministers want to meet me is nearly impossible.”

Seti snorted at his remark.

“Nope. I guarantee that once you get a fake identity and step into the world, it won’t even take a year. Your talent is that exceptional.”

“...”

“If you’re really in a bind, just beat the hell out of Jeon Yong-seop’s son. That’ll make you a national hero.”

“...Jeon Yong-seop’s son?”

Jeon Yong-seop, the traitor who was South Korea’s first mage, the turncoat who fled to the U.S.

Based on the government secrets Seti had shared, there seemed to be more to the story, but that wasn’t Dung Beetle’s concern.

But his son... everyone in the country knew him.

Jeon Yoon-seong, the genius boy who won the Superhuman Olympia by eliminating every Korean athlete.

America’s prized next-generation superhuman, and the person all Koreans collectively hated with a passion.

Even the kind-hearted Deok-bae despised him, so the average person’s hatred was closer to outright loathing. If Dung Beetle fought him in public and defeated him under the South Korean flag... he’d be all over the news and on every portal site’s front page for at least a week.

“Huh, now that you think about it, it makes sense, right?”

“...”

“The fine details, like faking an identity or becoming famous, will need to be fleshed out more, but... it’s a pretty solid plan, don’t you think?”

Seti finished her explanation and playfully slid her hand down to touch Dung Beetle’s earlobe.

“So, what do you think?”

Staring at her smiling face, already knowing what his answer would be, Dung Beetle responded.

“Let’s give it a shot.”