“Again…”

Dung Beetle gritted his teeth, staring down the hallway where the Player had disappeared.

The remains of Fiends and zombies, shredded by the Comet Sword, littered the ground, but there was no trace of the Player.

Closing his eyes, Dung Beetle spread his mana, searching for any sign of his prey. Magic, martial arts—it didn’t matter. Anything that could lead him to the Player would suffice.

After scouring the area with meticulous focus, he finally sensed a familiar energy coming from the far end of the sewer.

…Invisibility.

So that’s what the last potion he drank was.

Who knew how many consumables the Player had stashed away? One thing was certain—this wasn’t over yet.

Tap.

Without hesitation, Dung Beetle launched himself forward. He made no effort to silence his footsteps, as if daring the Player to keep running.

“Ha, damn it.”

The Player, who had been cautiously creeping away, abandoned his invisibility the moment he heard Dung Beetle’s approaching footsteps and broke into a sprint.

The chase resumed.

Each time Dung Beetle closed the distance, the Player used teleportation stones with reckless abandon.

When those ran out, he switched to stamina potions and ghost potions, barely keeping ahead.

The frantic pursuit continued through the sewer, the Player desperately pressing forward.

At last, he reached his destination.

In a chamber at the heart of the sewer, a priest corrupted by Tainted Stones writhed, its flesh swollen and grotesque. An unfinished dimensional gate shimmered ominously on a stone altar.

Bruised and battered, the Player staggered toward the altar, shouting.

“Hey! Get a meat shield up! Zombies, Fiends, I don’t care—just do it now!”

But the priest didn’t respond, let alone summon anything.

When the Player got closer, he realized the priest was muttering nonsense, babbling about “the Black Sheep.”

He’s completely lost it from working on the gate.

The Player glanced back at the direction Dung Beetle was coming from, then reached into his inventory and pulled out a ceremonial dagger.

It was ornate, engraved with ancient symbols, clearly meant for rituals.

Without hesitation, he drove the dagger into the priest’s body.

Squelch.

A sickly fluid, somewhere between blood and filth, oozed from the priest as the Player absorbed the mana from the Tainted Stones.

“Urgh—”

The warped mana churned in his body, and he barely suppressed the urge to vomit as he manipulated the altar’s mana.

First, he summoned every zombie and Fiend he could, flooding the sewer and blocking the entrance to the hideout.

If I can stall long enough for the gate to complete, I’ll escape…

But before he could finish forming his plan, he heard Dung Beetle’s footsteps echo from beyond.

Already…?

Boom!

The wall he had painstakingly sealed exploded, debris scattering everywhere.

From the dust emerged Dung Beetle, black feather-like mana trailing behind him.

Instinctively, the Player used his status screen to assess Dung Beetle’s condition.

Three buffs were active: Accelerated Bloodflow, Demonic Void Flow, Black Wing Style.

Seeing the unfamiliar martial arts names, the Player let out a dry laugh.

So the Comet Sword wasn’t his limit?

As Dung Beetle stepped into the hideout, he walked slowly and deliberately toward the altar.

“Player.”

“…”

“You die here today.”

His voice dripped with hatred, each word delivered with venomous precision. What was Dung Beetle to him, to warrant such relentless fury?

The Player let out a frustrated sigh.

“So, you’re really going to see this through to the end.”

In the next moment, he gripped the ceremonial dagger tighter.

Crunch.

He drove the blade deeper into the priest’s flesh, piercing the Tainted Stone embedded within.

With a final, gasping breath of “Saint…,” the corrupted priest died. Whatever story he had didn’t matter now.

He was nothing more than experience points.

[Level Up]

The notification rang in the Player’s mind as a euphoric wave surged through his body.

His mana, once drained, now overflowed.

The severed arm he had lost earlier regenerated in an instant, and the smaller wounds across his body vanished with a sizzling hiss.

This wasn’t just regeneration—it was a rebirth.

“Did you think you were the only one with a second phase?”

The Player sneered, his words laced with venom. He had prepared for this moment, ensuring he was brimming with experience points.

“Come at me, you bastard.”

Fueled by the memories of his past, the flames of vengeance burned within Dung Beetle.

The Player would die here today. No more, no less.

Focusing on the Player standing atop the altar, Dung Beetle activated his footwork technique.

Shk-shk-shk!

The assault began with ice spears. Mana surged through Dung Beetle’s veins, strengthened by the Black Wing Style, forming dozens of ice spears in an instant.

The Player’s response was straightforward. He pulled a grenade and a mana stone from his inventory and threw them simultaneously.

Boom!

The combination of a chain lightning mana stone and the grenade created a devastating synergy, obliterating the ice spears in a dazzling explosion.

Shards of ice scattered like snowflakes, but Dung Beetle didn’t pause. He followed up with a flurry of sword auras.

Does his mana have no limits?

Rolling off the altar, the Player gulped down potions—elixirs of magic resistance, acceleration, monstrous strength—anything he could lay his hands on.

By the time the potions dripped from the corners of his mouth, his body was coursing with enough buffs to overcome a ten-level gap.

He didn’t care about the toxicity or aftereffects. If he’d cared about such things, he wouldn’t have survived this long.

“Damn NPC scum…”

He hurled another grenade at Dung Beetle, this time paired with a cinder mana stone.

Boom!

Like a smokescreen, the burning ash from the stone filled the hideout.

Hissssss…

Even in the stifling heat of the ash cloud, both combatants located each other with ease.

Dung Beetle tracked the Player’s mana, while the Player relied on the potion of cat’s eyes he had consumed earlier.

As the distance closed, the Player pulled out a rifle and fired.

Tat-tat-tat-tat!

The bullets, charged with mana, were formidable—enough to make even superhumans fear for their lives.

But this madman wasn’t even dodging. He was closing the distance while taking the bullets head-on.

The Player realized why as he saw the bullets lose their force, dropping to the ground as they hit the faint shimmer of mana around Dung Beetle’s Black Wing Style.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

Clang!

The Player’s rifle shattered as Dung Beetle’s sword struck it. Dropping the rifle, the Player rolled backward and drew another sword—a mass-produced military blade, far inferior to the dragon-scale sword he had lost earlier.

Clang! Clang!

Blades clashed, their auras colliding violently, scattering the ash cloud.

Even with all his buffs, the Player could only just match Dung Beetle.

Grinding his teeth, the Player swung his blade again and again.

Same swordsmanship. Same auras. Different intent.

The Player’s technique lacked the depth of Dung Beetle’s martial arts. True mastery wasn’t something that could be stolen so easily.

But…

With every clash, Dung Beetle inched closer to mastering the Player’s technique.

Feeling the pressure mount, the Player swung wildly, trying to keep him at bay.

Clang! Clang!

The exchange continued, their blades biting into each other, spilling blood.

Boom!

Suddenly, the dimensional gate emitted a deep, resounding vibration. Both fighters halted simultaneously, turning their gazes toward the gate.

They didn’t need to say anything to understand.

The gate was closing.

“That useless priest… couldn’t even get this right.”

Sneering, the Player pulled out another grenade and mana stone, hurling them not at Dung Beetle, but at the gate.

 

BOOOOM!!!

A thunderous roar shook the chamber as the dimensional gate trembled violently.

Mana surged around it, filling the space with a suffocating heaviness that made the skin prickle.

“…What have you done?”

Dung Beetle frowned, his voice low and cold.

The Player grinned, lips curling cruelly.

“What, never seen a time attack before?”

“….”

“How long do you think that gate will last now? Five minutes? Ten? At best, thirty minutes. And after that…”

He licked his lips, his tone dripping with mockery.

“The entire sewer, your little girlfriends, and the Academy above will be wiped out. How’s that for thrilling?”

Instead of answering, Dung Beetle slashed a sword aura toward him. The Player retaliated with another grenade from his inventory.

BOOM!!

Explosions devoured the air, razor-sharp sword auras slashed through the chaos, and blood spattered between them. The blood was the Player’s.

“Ahaha, what’s wrong? Upset your little family is about to die?”

Despite the deep gash across his side, the Player’s tongue didn’t stop wagging.

“That Saint, the elf princess… You know why I didn’t mess with them? Because those bitches are hellholes—”

It was an obvious provocation, but Dung Beetle welcomed it with grim resolve.

The mana in his body surged into his blade, his torn uniform fluttering with the force.

Fwoosh—!

As the comet-like light erupted from his sword,

The Player, as if waiting for this moment, pulled a mana stone from his inventory.

 

The game world was never fair.

Even with optimal guides and peak reflexes, a single mistake could mean death.

Especially if you were targeted by high-level NPCs like the Holy Sword wielder, Hose Aguilando, or the Border Duke—survival wasn’t guaranteed for even a day.

That’s why the Player had prepared.

He had found a trump card to allow a low-level to kill a high-level.

In the process, he burned down Hiraria and made enemies of the Magic Tower, but it was worth it.

Because the mana stone in his hand was worth a hundred times more than any of that.

[Reflective Mana Stone]

There were only two of these in the entire world. Using it here was a waste, but… it was better than dying.

Crack.

He shattered the stone, designating his target.

The comet-like sword aura fired by the transfer student.

The overwhelming force of the Comet Sword filled the hideout, making every nerve in his body scream. Compared to the sword auras flung around earlier, this was on a completely different level.

Provoking him, goading him into this attack—it had all been worth it.

Goodbye.

In the next moment, the Comet Sword, which had been rushing toward the Player, turned in the opposite direction.

Dung Beetle’s golden eyes widened in shock.

Before he could dodge, the entire hideout was swallowed in the comet’s brilliant light.

BOOOOM—!

The shockwave was so intense it displaced the air, its power comparable to a missile strike.

Step.

As the aftershock subsided, the Player stepped forward.

At the epicenter of the explosion lay Dung Beetle, collapsed amidst the wreckage.

His sword was nowhere to be seen, and through the tatters of his uniform, his body was riddled with wounds.

Blood flowed freely from him, as if even his regeneration had finally hit its limit.

“Dead already?”

There was no answer. The gate let out an unsettling screech as heavy silence hung over Dung Beetle.

“Tch.”

The Player clicked his tongue, standing at Dung Beetle’s feet.

He had won, but the cost had been enormous.

He would have to replenish all the items and teleportation stones he had burned through. And more importantly, the Academy route was no longer viable—

Just as he thought that,

“…Huh?”

The feeling in his lower body vanished. The world tilted.

Thud.

When his back hit the floor, the Player realized what had happened.

Dung Beetle’s right hand was clutching something invisible.

“Invis… ible sword?”

As if in answer, the magic on Dung Beetle’s sword dissipated, revealing its true form.

A pale yellow blade, stained with the Player’s blood.

“How… you…”

“You thought you were the only one with a trump card?”

Dung Beetle slowly pushed himself upright, his golden eyes filled with icy resolve. He stared down at the Player, raising his sword.

“W-Wait! Spare me! If you let me live… I’ll tell you how to stabilize the gate. Deal?”

“….”

“D-Do you think I threw those grenades blindly at the gate?!”

The Player’s lips trembled as he stammered. The only reason he was still alive was his superhuman resilience and the lingering effects of his potions.

Instead of answering, Dung Beetle drove his sword into the Player’s shoulder, preventing him from accessing his inventory.

“F-Fuck…! Don’t you understand what I’m saying?!”

“….”

“If—if that gate closes, everyone dies! The Academy bastards, your precious little family—everyone!”

As if responding to his desperate screams, Dung Beetle severed his other arm. The Player shrieked in pain.

“Aaargh! F-Fuck! You’re really going to let everyone die over some stupid revenge?!”

Suddenly, Dung Beetle paused, his blade hovering mid-air. His cold eyes bore into the Player as he spoke.

“You’ve misunderstood something.”

“…What?”

“Sparing you was never an option. I’ll kill you, and I’ll stop the gate myself. That’s my only choice.”

“Y-You’re insane…”

Dung Beetle swung his sword again.

Screams rang out, followed by the sound of blood splattering the ground.

“Ugh…”

But it didn’t end there. Dung Beetle lifted his foot and stomped on the Player’s body.

Again. And again. Until the floor was soaked in blood.

By the time the Player’s upper body had been reduced to shreds, he finally understood what fear felt like.

I’m really going to die here? Like some trash NPC?

“W-Why…”

Crawling, his voice a faint rasp, he cried out with what little life he had left.

“Why… why are you doing this to me? What the fuck did I ever do to you?!”

Dung Beetle wiped the blood splattered across his cheek and answered.

“The back alleys of Incheon. The Cleaner.”

“…What?”

“25 million won per head. You’re dying because of that 25 million won.”

At last, the Player remembered who Dung Beetle was.

The gas mask from that time had kept him from recognizing him until now, but that voice…

“You… I… I cut your damn head off—”

Before he could finish, the blade pierced his throat.

Shock, rage, terror.

Those were the final emotions the Player ever felt.