"A world without gods or mana. How have you managed to survive in such a cursed world?"

『Excerpt from the UN Memorial Archive – Records of First Contact Beyond the Dimensional Gate』

 

Jang-man, the elderly man known as "boss" among all smugglers in Incheon, entered his bar with a sour expression.

He hadn’t expected much when he saw the shattered window, but the situation inside was worse than he had imagined.

The floor was full of deep gouges, and all the tables and chairs had been smashed to pieces. Shards of broken light bulbs, windows, and bottles littered the ground.

‘At least the counter’s still standing.’

With a sigh, Jang-man walked inside and grabbed a broom and a trash bag.

The cleaning went slowly.

Despite his stubborn, elderly resolve, Jang-man struggled to make any headway. There was simply too much destruction.

As the old man continued grunting and struggling on his own, Dung Beetle returned to the bar. His clothes were covered in soot, as if he had just come from working in a coal mine.

"Boss, you're safe. I was worried they might have followed you."

"Worried? Running away's no big deal."

Jang-man waved dismissively. Every smuggler had at least one escape route prepared, so it wasn’t an unreasonable claim.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, but I went through something a little strange…"

"Really? Tell me later. Let's clean up first."

Jang-man handed a broom to Dung Beetle. Without saying much, Dung Beetle began cleaning.

With a former janitor—and a superhuman at that—on the job, the debris quickly started to disappear.

Before long, the bar had more or less regained its original appearance.

Jang-man found an unbroken bottle of alcohol, sat atop a trash bag full of debris, and took a swig.

"So, what happened exactly?"

After tying off the last bag, Dung Beetle briefly explained what had transpired after Jang-man had fled.

He recounted how Frea Khan had joined the fight, how she had unleashed the Blue Rats, how she had beaten him under the guise of teaching him swordsmanship, and finally, how she had given him the dagger.

Jang-man, who had been sipping his drink, perked up the moment he heard about the dagger.

"Frea Khan gave you a dagger infused with martial arts? Is that really true?"

"Would you like to see it?"

Dung Beetle casually pulled the dagger from his coat. The beautiful blue blade gleamed, and the inscriptions etched into it shimmered in the light.

"Oh…."

Jang-man immediately stood up to inspect the dagger. His eyes sparkled with the wonder of a child looking at a new toy.

"Just from the look of it, I can tell. This is the real deal. Not some cheap imitation made on Earth, but a genuine relic from beyond the dimensional gate."

"…A relic?"

"Never heard the term before, have you?"

Dung Beetle nodded. A relic? It wasn’t something he had ever come across, not in his textbooks or even on TV.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't have. It’s not something you'd hear about in formal education."

Jang-man took another swig of his drink before continuing.

"Relics are items crafted by superhumans or magicians from beyond the dimensional gate to pass on their techniques and teachings to future generations."

"Techniques?"

"When mana is injected into the relic, the magic stored within activates, allowing the user to see the creator’s memories. Sometimes it plays like a video, other times you fall into a dream… or so they say."

"That sounds like quite an amazing item."

"It is. And just as rare."

"Even rare by your standards, Boss?"

"Of course. This is something ordinary folks like me can’t even use. Relics are traded exclusively among superhumans. Most smugglers wouldn’t see more than two in their lifetime."

Dung Beetle looked at the strange letters inscribed on the blade.

If it could be activated with mana, there wouldn’t be any need to find a translator to decode the writing, would there?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Dung Beetle subtly began to channel his mana, but Jang-man, noticing his expression, spoke up.

"Don’t even think about using your mana here."

"…."

"Wait, you were already trying it, weren’t you?"

Dung Beetle responded with an awkward laugh. Jang-man shook his head and massaged his temples.

"Follow me. There's a better place for that."

Jang-man led the way, and Dung Beetle, securing the dagger, followed closely behind. They exited the bar through the back door and ventured deep into a narrow alley.

The air was thick with the smell of the sea, and as they reached a dead-end where the trash outnumbered people, Jang-man stopped. After scanning the ground for a moment, he bent down and lifted a manhole cover.

Screech.

Despite its appearance, the cover lifted easily. It wasn’t a manhole at all, but rather a disguised metal door.

Instead of asking why there was such a thing in the alley, Dung Beetle silently followed Jang-man down through the door.

Below was a long concrete corridor. Though a thin layer of dust had settled, it was clear this wasn’t an ordinary sewer.

"Where are we?"

"This is the path to an underground bunker."

"A bunker? Did you build this, Boss?"

"No matter how much money I have, I wouldn’t build something like this. It was constructed by the U.S. military back when they governed Korea under a trusteeship. Even the Korean government doesn’t know about this place."

Jang-man and Dung Beetle used the light from their phones to navigate the narrow passage. After some time, they reached a thick metal door that looked like it belonged in a bank vault. Jang-man, clearly familiar with the area, opened the door without hesitation.

Screeeech.

Beyond the door lay a treasure trove.

The large bunker was filled with massive safes, piles of cash, and gold bars stacked carelessly around the room.

"…You’re wealthier than I imagined."

Dung Beetle remarked, and Jang-man snorted.

"Even if you combined everything in this vault, it wouldn’t come close to the value of that dagger you’re holding."

"…."

Dung Beetle was at a loss for words. Jang-man handed him a phone.

"Use the relic here. No one’s going to come snooping around if anything goes wrong. I’ll leave my phone with you, so if you need anything, give me a call."

Jang-man patted Dung Beetle on the shoulder. It was a gruff display of kindness from a smuggler who had never cared much for others.

Dung Beetle bowed his head in appreciation.

"…Thank you, Boss."

 

Now alone, Dung Beetle sat in the middle of the bunker and pulled out the blue dagger.

"A relic, huh…."

The dagger, worth more than all the gold in the bunker. He didn’t believe that Frea Khan had given it to him out of pure goodwill. No matter how remarkable she was, she was still part of the Australian government.

Surely, she had calculated some benefit in giving him the dagger.

But whatever her intentions were, a favor was a favor.

"I’ll have to repay this one day."

Dung Beetle thought of the kindness he had received from various people. From Jang-man, Frea Khan, and even Seti.

If he survived after his revenge was complete… he would repay them.

With that vow in mind, Dung Beetle channeled his mana into the dagger.

And in the next moment… the bunker disappeared.

Blinking, Dung Beetle found himself standing in the middle of a vast plain.

Where the bunker ceiling had been, there was now an unfamiliar night sky above him, and where the safes and cash had been, unfamiliar grass stretched out beneath his feet.

"An illusion?"

Narrowing his eyes, Dung Beetle raised his mana in alert.

All of his senses were normal, but the strange and yet somehow familiar feeling of the place made him think of…

A dream.

"…Someone else’s dream."

The moment he realized it, a soft voice spoke from above.

—You’ve already realized? That was fast. Too fast.

Dung Beetle looked up to find the source of the voice.

It belonged, quite literally, to a comet. A white and blue comet streaked across the night sky.

Though he wasn’t sure if that was the right way to describe it, Dung Beetle locked eyes with the comet.

—I expected a successor, but what I see is a monster.

The comet grumbled, clearly displeased.

After a brief pause, Dung Beetle, in his usual calm voice, asked,

"…What is a successor?"

—The one who will inherit my freedom. The one who will wield the sword of the stars and break free from all constraints. I suppose that child didn’t tell you anything?

"Frea Khan only told me to learn swordsmanship."

—Ah, yes. That child has never been much of a talker. Or perhaps she thought it unnecessary to explain.

The comet sighed and spun in the sky, its tail tracing an irritated curve.

—Tsk, she must have wanted to form a bond with you, but it seems you’ve already made a contract with something else. It’s unfortunate, but I can’t give the sword of the stars to someone who isn’t the rightful successor…

The comet, mid-rant, suddenly froze. It stopped, as if someone had nailed it in place in the middle of the sky.

—Th-This… What is this?

The comet, which had been trying to say something, abruptly fell silent, as if something had caught in its throat.

A brief silence followed. Only after a peculiar amount of time had passed did the comet speak again.

—What… are you?

"Comet?"

—How, what, contract, evil, evil!

The night sky trembled, and the comet’s body shook violently.

The starlight, once bright and beautiful, was now filled with confusion, fear, and dismay, lighting up the sky in a chaotic display.

It was a strange and stunning sight, but thankfully, it didn’t last long.

The night sky began to devour the comet’s light, as though trying to swallow it whole, and the comet surrendered.

—Enough, enough! I-I’ll do as you say!

The voice was pathetic, and Dung Beetle did his best to ignore the comet.

He had a good idea of what was currently tormenting the celestial body.

—I’ll give it to you directly, so stop… stop it, please.

With those words, the comet emitted a dazzling light, far more intense than anything Dung Beetle had seen before.

Flash!

Instinctively, Dung Beetle closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the comet was gone.

In its place was a small child made of light, collapsed right next to him.

Dung Beetle narrowed his eyes as the child wobbled and stood up.

‘This child…’

He didn’t need anyone to tell him. The child made of light was the comet he had just been speaking to.

—You, you… wanted swordsmanship, right? I’ll give it to you. As much as you want. Just… Ugh!

The comet-turned-child didn’t finish its sentence. The next moment, it began to vomit.

Uweeek!

Starlight spilled from the child’s mouth. It was a grotesque sight, but Dung Beetle didn’t show any reaction. Instead, he stepped forward and patted the child’s back.

It was a habit from his janitor days. If you left a drunk person to vomit alone, you never knew when it would end.

Only after patting the child’s back for quite some time did the comet finally close its mouth.

—Haah… Th-Thank you.

The comet, breathing heavily, looked up at Dung Beetle.

Though its face was made of light and impossible to read, it seemed on the verge of tears.

—I’ll give you my sword… the Comet Sword.

"…Didn’t you say I couldn’t receive it if I wasn’t the successor?"

—I… I can’t give you the power of the stars. But passing on the true essence of the swordsmanship is no trouble. Will you accept that?

Without hesitation, Dung Beetle nodded.

He could have asked more questions, but seeing the tearful face of the comet made him unable to do so.

—When light overflows, it cannot choose a side…

The comet mumbled to itself, clenching its hand tightly. A moment later, when it opened its hand, a small orb appeared.

—This orb contains the true essence of the Comet Sword. I don’t know how long it will take for you to understand it all… but with your talent, it shouldn’t take more than a year.

Dung Beetle carefully reached out to receive the orb. But just as he was about to take it, the comet hesitated. When Dung Beetle looked at its face, the child’s hand was trembling, and it finally spoke.

—Th-There’s… one thing I’d like you to promise me.

"A promise? What kind of promise?"

—When you meet Frea Khan, please return the dagger to her. I-I’m begging you.

Dung Beetle couldn’t bring himself to refuse. The comet’s voice was too desperate.

"…Yes, I promise."

—Th-Thank you. Please… keep that promise…

Finally, the comet handed over the orb. As soon as Dung Beetle grasped the glowing sphere, the dream that had surrounded him vanished.

Shhhhh.

Unlike when he had entered the dream, his return to reality was disorienting.

His skin tingled as his sense of touch came back, and his hearing returned with a faint ringing.

Next, his sense of smell awakened. Among the dusty scent of the bunker, there was a sharp, spicy smell of chili powder and the thick aroma of MSG…?

‘…Ramen?’

Dung Beetle frowned without thinking. Then, in the next moment, his vision returned.

After blinking a few times to clear his sight, a familiar face came into view.

A beautiful face with sharp features, loosely tied black hair, and sparkling blue eyes like jewels.

It was Hong Seti. She was sitting on a mat on the bunker floor, cooking ramen on a portable gas stove.

"…Am I still dreaming?"

As soon as Dung Beetle spoke, their eyes met.

It seemed Seti had been about to take a bite, but she froze, holding the lid of the pot with noodles on it.

A brief silence, heavy with awkwardness.

"Uh…"

Just as Dung Beetle’s eyebrow raised in confusion, Seti finally spoke.

"…Would you like to join me?"