The waves crashed relentlessly. They smashed against the haphazardly piled breakwater, shattering into foam. The waves sprayed white organic matter before yielding to the next in line.

Rounds of drinks had made several passes around the group. Watching the scene, Lee Taebaek sank into thought. It might have been some untimely dog-shit philosophy.

As Lee Taebaek saw it, the world was much like water. Like these waves. Like the sea, it had to circulate. Stagnant water rotted away. No living thing could survive in still water.

The human ecosystem was the same. If it didn’t flow, everything died—just like water.

Take war, for a prime example.

Stagnation leads to explosion. The larger the tumor grows, the more excruciating the pain. Vent the gas in moderation, and even if it bursts, the aftermath can be contained.

“Ugh… ughh.”

The moment was broken. Lee Taebaek turned toward the source of the groans. A man and woman hung upside down, bound by iron chains. Their cascading hair swayed above the water’s surface.

“…We’re not shooting a noir film here or anything.”

Art Master grumbled. The funny part was that Jamukha was the one who’d strung them up like that.

“Why not? You’re an actress.”

Lee Taebaek smirked.

“Might as well film a noir flick while we’re at it. Great villain actors, perfect atmosphere. Location’s top-notch. Can’t beat it, right?”

“Hey. No cameras, no cameras. It’s a shoot without the gear—what kind of film set is that?”

“Just a figure of speech.”

Frivolous banter flew back and forth. The Broadcasting Station CEO—moments from a swim—and Siesta’s Executive Director Seong flushed red and purple. Even as blood rushed to their heads turning them beet-red, their faces remained pale.

“Speak.”

Executive Director Seong cried out in a shrill voice. Art Master shot back with a sullen glare.

“We’re talking, aren’t we? What more do you want?”

“You must have demands. Out with them, Art Master. We’ll meet every condition—think of it as ransom for your lives.”

“You know what I want?”

“Siesta can provide anything.”

It was confidence backed by substance. He was right, so Art Master didn’t argue. That was the moment.

“M-Me too!”

Feisty. The Female Broadcasting CEO jumped in without missing a beat.

“…Jamukha… I’ve been too neglectful, haven’t I? Our station will cast you in every drama and variety show. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you…”

“Hmm.”

Art Master glanced at Lee Taebaek.

“They say that.”

“If it tempts you, accept. We’re not allies. Just interests aligning briefly.”

“Oh? So I could tie you up like these clowns?”

“Sure. I’d put up a good fight, though.”

“…You don’t hold back, do you?”

It was amusing. Art Master mouthed something and turned back to the higher-ups. She squatted, chin in hand, staring for a long moment before blurting out.

“Looks like I’m doing pretty well in Haragusa, you know? Money’s overflowing. Not quite at your level, maybe.”

“Want me to set up a broadcasting station for you? Or how about joining Siesta? We’ll double whatever Haragusa offers.”

“No, listen.”

Art Master’s lips twisted.

“I’m saying I’m not lacking materially. So it’s not about what you can give me—it’s about what I want.”

Wasn’t that the same thing?

Irritation surged in Executive Director Seong. Blood pounding in his head made it hard to suppress. He summoned superhuman patience to steady himself. In a low voice, he coaxed.

“Fine. Tell me what you want, Art Master.”

“Cultured humans.”

Executive Director Seong flinched.

“Destroy them all.”

“…”

“Huh? You’re hesitating?”

“What business is that of yours?”

His tone sharpened considerably. Even begging for his life wouldn’t have been enough. But Art Master smiled. This was easier to discuss than groveling.

“Art Master, I didn’t peg you for a human rights activist.”

“Ugh. Don’t you know I’m hopeless at that stuff? Ask the woman next to you if you’re clueless. She knows better than anyone.”

“…!”

“Scaredy-cat.”

Art Master stood.

“Truth is, I never cared about that crap. Whatever the big shots do just gives me headaches.”

She spoke breezily, but the two began gasping. Blood flowing backward must have made their breathing labored.

“But working at Haragusa, I see and hear things.”

*Huuuugh*

“Not gross or anything, but… humans have such vivid imaginations. They just channel that creativity into the worst directions.”

“G-Get to the point…!”

“I’m sick of it.”

Art Master said coolly, eyes cold.

“I tried ignoring it, but couldn’t fully. I’m from the steppes, after all. Grew up in pristine nature as a kid.”

*Cough cough.* Their groans were devoured by the waves. The sea churned on. Meanwhile, the dams that had choked this city remained fixed in place.

“This is side chatter, but a relative of mine got turned into one of those cultured humans. Seeing that? It hit me. So on the way here, I thought it over.”

Art Master suddenly turned. The harbor she’d ravaged first lay in view. Debris and smoke choked the air. Like a movie monster had rampaged through.

Beyond the low-lit night city loomed a brighter one. Even from afar, the city’s vitality didn’t fade. Bright as harbor searchlights, scattering, adorning the horizon.

“…Guess I’m pretty sick of that city too. I wanted to be its brightest star.”

Her expression soured.

“But even that tallest skyscraper looks withered next to steppe scrub. So damn boring.”

“Fuck this!”

The Female Broadcasting CEO exploded in curses. Blood congestion turned her face dark red. Like a spoiled tomato, her color rotted.

Already bullied by Executive Director Seong, now turned into a tuna being drained of blood and fed weird talk. Negative factors paralyzed her reason.

“You crazy bitch! Cut the bullshit and spit out your demands! What do you want? You’re a fucking attention whore, right? We’ll tailor everything to you. Our station not enough? Fine, I’ll grab other CEOs by the collar and film their mugs for you! Or just let us go and fuck off!”

Lee Taebaek interjected.

“Quick tongue.”

Her glare turned on him.

“Supreme, you too! You’re the root of all this mess! If you’d stayed quiet! No—if you’d rotted in the lower levels, none of this would’ve happened. Why crawl out and stir shit?!”

“Strong opinions.”

Lee Taebaek said that, then drew his Para Blade. He threw it. The ringed hilt spun in an arc.

“Huh?”

Splash. With that sound, the Para Blade boomeranged back to his hand.

Glug glug. Tiny bubbles boiled on the surface. The Female Broadcasting CEO’s final death rattle was foam, not words. Executive Director Seong snapped alert.

“C-Cultured humans… I’ll destroy them.”

“Can you eliminate that at your level?”

Lee Taebaek nodded toward him.

“T-Two-thirds of the factories are under me… I could shut them down right now.”

“What? Not all. Not even most.”

Lee Taebaek said flatly, as if cooling off. Executive Director Seong panicked and added.

“Th-That’s still huge! The losses to Siesta—unimaginable sums! Amounts you’ve never even heard of!”

“Earlier, what?”

Art Master chimed in.

“Didn’t you tell me to name any amount I want?”

“Is that the same as this?! That’s spending! This is pure loss—nothing left!!”

“Whatever. I hate complicated talk. Point is, you can’t shut down all the cultured human factories. Right?”

Lee Taebaek answered.

“That’s what he said.”

“Useless, then.”

“W-Wait…!”

“Sorry. Hate clingy guys.”

Art Master kicked a nearby metal hunk. A crane. Screeech—the steel screamed as it ground. Executive Director Seong’s body swayed nauseatingly.

Soon his eyes stung with saltwater. Squeezing his last strength, he pleaded.

“I’ll do it! I’ll destroy them!”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll plant bombs if I have to! So please!”

“Working with Haragusa taught me one thing.”

The steel girder crumpled brutally. The crane halted at a slant. Gripping it, Art Master said.

“The big shots flip promises like pancakes. Real slick about it too.”

“…I…!”

“Bye, Executive Director. Be good in your next life.”

A deafening crack split the air. Louder than the waves this time.

Executive Director Seong’s screams sank silently below the surface. Art Master then yanked out the frozen guards’ corpses and tossed them into the sea.

Traces of life were erased. Only the half-wrecked harbor remained. Breathing white mist, Art Master suddenly said.

“I’ll handle two-thirds of the cultured human factories. You take the rest.”

“Got it.”

“…And once this is done, I’m leaving this godforsaken city.”

“Where to?”

“Home. The steppes.”

Art Master gazed at the city. Neon flickered in her clear eyes. Moments later, she closed them, then opened with resolve.

“You know that saying, ‘all rivers return to the sea’?”

“Yeah.”

“But I think the reverse too. Water that left home, lingered at sea, returns home. That’s ‘all rivers return to the sea’ too, right?”

“Sounds good.”

Lee Taebaek’s bland response drew a hollow laugh from Art Master.

“Lee Taebaek, you must have a hometown too?”

“…Mm.”

Lee Taebaek fell silent. After a pause, he replied.

“Pretty far.”

“Then, whatever.”

Art Master turned her back and walked away.

“Keep going until you reach your hometown.”

She waved without looking back.

“You’re too big for this Lake anyway. See the ocean, and if you feel like it, head back where you came from.”

Art Master’s figure receded. Lee Taebaek let out an empty chuckle.

Art Master would return home after this. Her disappearance—the star who’d lived flashiest of all—would spark hot gossip.

Then, learning she lived leisurely on the steppes, the busybodies would chatter. A fallen star, vanished into obscurity.

On the surface, regression.

But at its core, progress.

Keep advancing, and you return to the origin. The world is round, after all—like the sea before them.