Humans die.

In Lake City, the epicenter of discrimination, the most impartial god must surely be the Grim Reaper himself. Beggar, citizen, or chaebol heir—no exceptions, all perish without fail. Life is a long journey undertaken solely to leave behind a single black-and-white photograph.

Is that why?

The pharaohs of ancient Egypt spent their entire lives preparing their own tombs. Lake City’s megacorps were no different.

They, too, were always bracing for death. Only their methods differed from stacking pyramids like the pharaohs. With no shortage of material wealth, what they most desired, and feared, was death itself.

Thus, they sought ways to evade it. For megacorp executives, life was a frantic struggle to shatter the species’ limits imposed by the universe. It was why religious groups wielded such formidable influence in a city where science had advanced to extreme heights.

Even if I die…

The mindset that a god they’d faithfully served their whole lives wouldn’t abandon them. In a word, it was compensation psychology.

They were merchants to the bone. Even if the counterparty was a god, they never struck a losing deal.

…You…

Lee Taebaek’s eyes cooled to an icy chill.

“You sold your soul to ‘that guy,’ didn’t you?”

“*Kuh… ughhh…!*”

The man, Executive Director Ryu, clutched the blade piercing his chest. Lime-green blood trickled along it, staining Lee Taebaek’s hand.

“Green blood… that means…”

Yu Dahui’s eyes widened. As a medical professional, she instantly grasped its implications.

“They forcibly replaced Executive Director Ryu’s body with a full-body prosthetic…”

“I-Is that even possible?”

Kang Hyeonseong stammered in shock.

“With medical science alone? No.”

“Meaning…?”

“Religion’s involved too.”

Fumito sheathed his sword and elaborated. The fierce blaze in his eyes had cooled like frost on a winter morning. He always grew strangely detached when religion entered the conversation.

“No doubt… he made a pact with some utterly vile god. Probably sold not just his own soul, but Executive Director Ryu’s, the original owner’s, too…”

Fumito glanced aside. Director Ryu sat with lips trembling, tears streaming down her face. A flicker of pity creased his brow.

Just moments ago, he’d wanted to stitch shut that incessantly teasing mouth of hers. And Fumito wasn’t the type to soften at a woman’s tears. Unlike Lee Taebaek, he was a natural-born psychopath.

The sympathy stirring in him stemmed from shared suffering. He’d gone through something eerily similar himself.

Krunch!

Lee Taebaek slashed the Para Blade sideways and yanked it free. Rib fragments clung to the edge where it had splintered bone.

Lee Taebaek grimaced. He flicked the filthy blood from the blade. White granules, smeared with gore, splattered across the wire-strewn floor.

“Kuhuhu… heh heh heh heh…”

The man groaned, then suddenly broke into a sinister laugh. Was the pain numbing his reason?

“…Yes. Now that’s worth recruiting for Great Daesung.”

The man staggered to his feet. He eyed the fallen cigarette pack from his torn jacket pocket, then crushed it underfoot. As he ground the burst pack against his shoe, he spoke.

“Regrettable that our first greeting had to be like this, but this must be Eden’s will. Pleasure to meet you, Lee Taebaek. I am the chairman of Daesung Group.”

“So the one you sold your soul to was Eden.”

“Entrusting one’s mind to Order—isn’t that so strange? Of course, others might see ethical issues, but with blood on both our hands, it’s a bit late to quibble over that.”

The chairman’s breath hitched unevenly. Yet he didn’t lose his composure.

It was a dire situation. Most would be begging for mercy. But the chairman was a self-made man who’d clawed through countless battlefields.

He’d elevated Daesung Group from rags to megacorp status. He was a living success myth, hailed within the group as a near-demi-god. His poise was the inertia of hard-earned experience.

“Don’t give me that trite line about crossing the line. Even in this city, murder crosses a line. Others might, but you lot have no right to say it.”

“Ch-Chair… Chair, Chairman…”

The chairman felt a heavy tug on his pant leg. Director Ryu had barely regained her senses and was clutching it.

“M-My father… my father is still alive, right? Right?”

“Mm. Garyeon.”

“Please!”

Director Ryu wailed desperately.

“Just say my father is alive somehow. Please say he’s alive.”

“Garyeon, listen.”

The chairman gazed down with a benevolent smile. The sword wound in his chest had already begun to heal. The green blood was a self-repairing serum, capable of emergency treatment for most injuries.

“Do you have any idea how your father found Lee Taebaek?”

“Th-That was me—I gathered the intel—!”

“Think hard about where and how you got that information.”

“…”

In calmer times, Director Ryu assisted the chairman. Most of the intel she’d gathered came from eavesdropping on his words.

Like any secretary, she should have turned a deaf ear—but her father’s neck and her own were on the line. She’d overheard his private talks, his calls, everything.

That allowed Executive Director Ryu to locate Lee Taebaek. To the desperate father-daughter duo, he seemed their sole lifeline.

But.

“All… all of that was you, Chairman…?”

The chairman slowly swept back his bangs. Lee Taebaek and the 9th Battalion members held position, exchanging glances. No need to rush—they’d act once they grasped the full picture.

“Who doesn’t know my wife has long coveted my seat? But I couldn’t handle it myself. Daesung owes its current stature to her.”

“That’s not it.”

Lee Taebaek cut in.

“It’s because her family is Siesta. Killing her would obviously point suspicion at you. So you pretended to step back from the front lines, faked dementia like a malingering old man.”

“…Mm.”

“It explains picking Executive Director Ryu out of all your children too. Your wife’s kids—even in this morally bankrupt city—no one wants to commit familial murder without good cause. But Executive Director Ryu?”

Executive Director Ryu was the illegitimate son of a concubine. Bound to be bitter rivals with the chairman’s wife.

And talented. Despite his precarious position in the group, he’d secured the Executive Director role in the vital planning and research division. He’d even placed his daughter, Director Ryu, as secretary to the chairman—the group’s nerve center.

“You saw echoes of your younger self in him, didn’t you? That’s why you chose him as your ‘means to extend your life.’”

“Sharp deduction. Spot on. Should I applaud?”

“I don’t want to hear claps from filthy hands.”

“…What manners.”

The chairman clicked his tongue. The weight on his pant leg eased away. Director Ryu slumped, tears falling like chicken droppings.

“Ruined.”

His assessment of her was cold.

“You have no sense of decency.”

“I am Daesung. You can’t smell success until Daesung claims the top market cap. But my true body’s lifespan is running out.”

The chairman paused.

Vrooooom!

White blisters peeled from various spots. Cracks spiderwebbed through the ice crystals trapping the Security Team, accompanied by deafening groans. Amid it all, the chairman continued nonchalantly.

“My children disappointed me—no one measured up. What choice did I have? Buy ‘youth.’ Daesung’s tech can craft a full-body prosthetic easy enough. But that wasn’t enough. My brain had aged. For that, I had no choice but to borrow religion’s power.”

“Regaining youth like that—what’s the point?”

“What great meaning is there in life? If you have some goal, you live the rest on autopilot.”

That was when it happened.

It was then.

Rumble rumble rumble!

The ceiling caved in. Footsteps thudded amid the dust cloud.

“You’re late.”

The chairman chided the sudden arrival.

“I just got the message.”

“I know it’s a lie, but I’ll let it slide for now.”

The chairman stepped back, hands clasped behind him.

“Muyachi.”

The Saber Master emerged through the dust, dragging his Chamado, its teeth badly chipped.

“Never thought we’d meet again like this.”

Lee Taebaek said. Saber Master Muyachi had been a key ally, aiding him repeatedly. Their first encounter hadn’t been pleasant, but he’d saved his life at crucial moments.

“Pity to meet this way.”

“Difference in positions.”

Saber Master Muyachi replied impassively, as always.

He’s the Mercenary King.’

He sold violence for pay. No different now. Daesung had simply bought exclusive rights to his blade with a fortune.

“Spare them?”

The Saber Master asked without turning. The chairman pondered briefly, then shook his head.

“He knows too many internal secrets. Dispose of them.”

A faint crease formed between the Saber Master’s brows.

“…Understood.”

Saber Master Muyachi advanced step by step. Lee Taebaek heightened his senses. The scraping metal clawed at his skin like needles.

One of us dies today.

Last time, it’d been a test of mettle, ending in a draw. The Saber Master worked strictly for pay—and the Gang Alliance had lacked funds then, forcing him to withdraw.

Can’t hope the client’s broke.

To a megacorp, money was a cornucopia. It rolled in no matter how much they spent.

“Half a year.”

Saber Master Muyachi swung his arm. The air tore with a chilling screech.

“Growing this much in half a year… Sometimes seeing you makes life feel unfair, Lee Taebaek. Looks, potential—nothing lacking.”

“Is it because the end is near? You’re chattier than usual.”

Lee Taebaek smiled, and Muyachi mirrored it—the first smile Lee Taebaek had ever seen from him.

“Anyway, you left an impression. The only client I’ve spared—and the one who made me abandon my lifelong creed just to see how far you’d go. Now, I’m being rewarded for it.”

The Saber Master raised Chamado. The demonic wind from Lee Taebaek shattered against the blade.

“A life-and-death duel.”

“Clear comparison.”

The chairman stole lives to extend his own.

Saber Master Muyachi threw away his life to uphold his self-made banner. Many eyes watched. Overflowing. Word would spread through the city as rumor. Then, which of the two would truly achieve immortality?

“Let’s fight until one of us dies.”

Lee Taebaek’s eyes gleamed faintly.