The grand reception room on the tenth floor of the Cecil Hotel, which would have been filled with celebratory cheers of joy on Earth, was filled with thick bloodlust and terrible shrieks. Filthy curses and mocking cackles sounded throughout the room.
“What the fuck are you looking at? Want your eyes gouged out?”
“Kekek! Even the small fry were invited?”
“Why would GM invite those nobodies?”
“Tsk, tsk, shut the hell up, you undignified murderers.”
“The hell did you say? I’ll kill you like a dog, bitch!”
Roughly over a thousand people filled the reception room, but only those on the edges were noisy. Those in the center of the room, sitting on spaced-out leather sofas, were silent. They were all infamous Dark Humans that everyone would know just by hearing their names.
“It’s been a while, guys. Did you all have fun amidst the pandemonium?” asked a short, Mexican middle-aged man with a goatee, sitting on a sofa as he waved around his machine pistol.
He was El Chapo, the Drug King, and the leader of Clan Hard Drug. Two Rankers stood beside him. Sicario was an average-looking man in jeans and a white T-shirt, and Esmeralda, a woman so skinny that she was practically skin and bones, was munching on a white pill as if it were candy. Behind them were seven Hard Drug Semi Rankers, standing at attention as they exuded bloodlust.
A handsome man in a black suit and a beautiful woman in a black dress, both with blond hair and blue eyes, answered El Chapo as they sat across from him. Their attire looked as if they had attended a funeral.
“We do not sell narcotics like you.”
“Nor are we opportunists like you.”
“Heh, excuse me for being an opportunist. LIAM isn’t selling as well as expected, so I can’t help but jump at every opportunity I can get, you know?” El Chapo said slyly as he stared at the man and woman and continued, “I ask that you understand, Dark Lady and Dark Gentleman. We’re all druggies, aren’t we?”
The joint clan leaders of Pure Ladies and Gentlemen—Christopher Lambert and Katrina Carol—scoffed.
“Let’s take this opportunity to be frank with each other. This is our chance. Lee Kang-San, who’s been keeping us from taking over the Capital, is now dead, and the Union isn’t the same as it used to be.” El Chapo’s eyes brightened as he continued, “For how long must we be stuck in South Earth? Why must we be conscious of those weaker than us?”
The majority of the Dark Humans nodded.
“El Chapo is right. This is our chance!”
“That must be why GM called us here.”
“Hehe, GM is making their move! Now that Lee Kang-San is gone, they’re first in the human ranking now!”
“Let’s twist the Capital into however we like!”
“The Black Age has come!”
“Gahaha! Is this the rebirth of Elysium?”
Now that the stopgap known as Lee Kang-San was gone, the oppressed desires of the Dark Humans began to be set ablaze, believing the time to be compensated by the Union for the time they had taken from them had come. They were certain that GM would unite the Dark Humans and turn the Capital into a paradise.
“Fuuu, haaa. Cease this poor instigation, bratty El Chapo,” said a crackly voice.
It had come from an old man in a fedora and no shirt, leaning on the sofa’s backrest with bloody bandages covering his torso. Large men in black suits surrounded the man. He was the Godfather, Don Carlos Giuseppe, the leader of Clan Loaners.
The old man puffed a Cuban nostalgia cigar and continued, “I can see you’re happy that you’ve earned some snotty Coins, but GM has yet to arrive. Enough of your assumptions.”
“Hehe, I heard you almost died tussling with the lizards. You sure have gotten old. How about you retire?” El Chapo said.
“Fuuu, haaa. Try asking again in about a hundred years, brat. Even in this condition, I could beat some manners into you. Want to try me?”
“I’d rather not. I don’t want your dirty old blood on my clothes.”
El Chapo then turned to one of the couches across from him, where a large man with two heads was sitting. They were conjoined twins, staring blankly at a beating heart that they had just ripped out, holding it delicately as if it were a small bird. They were Nicholas Art, the Heart Collector, and the joint clan leaders of Killers’ Age.
He asked, “Oi, Nicholas Art. What’s the position of Killers’ Age?”
“Nicholas, it’s almost dying,” said the younger brother, Art, the head on the right.
“Let’s get a new heart, Art,” said the older brother, Nicholas, the head on the left.
“Another one?”
El Chapo said, “Oi, are you listening to—”
“Shut up! I can’t hear the sound of the dying heartbeat! That’s the best part! I’ll rip out your heart!” Nicholas shouted, clenching the heart, which then exploded.
“Nicholas!” Art shouted as he waved his right arm to calm his agitated older brother.
“Hey, two-head. You got blood on my clothes.” A woman’s cold voice sounded. The woman with one leg over the other on the sofa had short hair and wore skinny jeans and a black windbreaker. She was Onie Yuki, the Puppeteer. “Do you want me to turn you into a mannequin? A mannequin with two heads is rare, so I’m quite inclined to turn you into one.”
Art said, “Oh, sorry about th—”
Nicholas interjected, “Why are you apologizing, Art?! That bitch is different from us now. She’s becoming a goddamn fatass from how much she’s sitting around now that she’s a member of Black Market.”
“Really? She looks pretty skinny to me.”
“That’s not what I mean, you idiot. She’s a goddamn fence sitter!”
Yuki scoffed and remarked, “Your fantasies are getting out of hand. You want to destroy the Union? They’re already a pillar of the Underground Confederation. Do you seriously think you’re a match for the Steel King or Elementum?”
The Dark Humans frowned once Yuki pointed out the fact that they had been most worried about.
“Good of you to remind us, Onie Yuki. All of you have heard about the bullshit plan that the Union cooked up this time, right?” El Chapo said as he looked around the room.
Most Dark Humans nodded.
“Oh, that.”
“That Together thing or whatever it’s called.”
“What a bunch of morons. They could’ve demanded any kind of treasure from the Sēmen, but they demanded the measly use of Pangaea?”
“From what I’d heard, RB led the negotiation.”
“When should we kill him?”
“He’s the one who orchestrated that damn Operation Pest Control!”
As the reception room grew louder, El Chapo took advantage of the agitation to shout, “Fuck that shit, Together! I’m sure you all know our position will get even weaker if that comes to pass!”
Together, which was an insane plan proposed by Record Breaker Cheon Seong-Hwi, involved moving several cities and combining them to create one large city that belonged to Underground.
“Think about the Capital being combined with Ferrum, the Spirit Land, and the like! That means the Steel King and Elementum will always be residing in the city! We’ll have to crawl like dogs as we whine from the tight leash on our necks!” El Chapo said.
“Yeah, it’s the same thing as having two Lee Kang-Sans!”
“Two Lee Kang-Sans? Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl!”
“So, what do you suggest? Do you have any bright ideas?” Nicholas asked El Chapo.
“Of course, I do!” El Chapo answered with a smile. “The leaders of Underground have returned to their cities. We can’t lose this opportunity!”
The Dark Humans had the dragons who invaded the Capital to thank for showing them Underground’s weakness.
“It’s time for a revolution! We will destroy the Union alongside GM and create a paradise for Dark Humans!”
“Tsk, how idealistic. Fine, let’s say that we destroy the Union. What then? We have no way of stopping Underground,” Yuki retorted.
El Chapo smiled and replied, “Don’t worry. My sources say that only one person acts as the link between dwarves, spirits, elves, and humans!”
He still remembered the name of the arrogant human who had once declared war on Hard Drug and killed one of his executives, Budiono.
“Cheon Seong-Hwi! As long as we kill him, Underground will lose its centerpiece, and the other races have difficulty communicating with one another! We will use that gap to occupy the Capital, with GM leading us!”
“You’re going to... kill Seong-Hwi?” Yuki mumbled, her eyes narrowing.
As she was about to take her pale hands out of her windbreaker pockets, a chill-inducing voice sounded from thin air, “It appears we had similar thoughts.”
***
People in black robes were gathered around Front Manager Radix, the green-eyed elf. They were members of the Executionary Corps who knew the truth about the Cecil Hotel.
“Front Manager Radix! Are you sure we can just leave them to be?”
“Will the General Manager be here soon?”
“At this rate, we won’t be able to contain them. The hotel is filled with countless infamous Dark Humans.”
Radix continued his work at the front desk with his quill and said, “Return to your stations.”
“Front Manager!”
“Did you not hear me? Return to your stations!” Radix raised his head as he lowered his quill and growled in a low tone. “Why are you all bothering me when I’m this busy?”
Too many things were bothering him lately—the Capital invasion, the death of his former comrade Lee Kang-San, GM’s prolonged absence, Irura’s visit to the Capital, and more.
“You all know that this day was planned since the opening of the Cecil Hotel. Today is the spring cleaning. There is nothing for any of you to do.”
The spring cleaning was the day that GM, Kang-San, Remy, and Radix’s other comrades had planned to wipe out every incorrigible Dark Human.
“We know, but it’s way too sudden,” said one of the robed members. He was Dokkaebi, the leader of the Executionary Corps Team 1, Annihilation.
“The plan was for GM to be the dustpan, and for Lee Kang-San to be the broom. Neither is present, so how will this plan proceed?” asked another robed member. He was Kamaitachi, the leader of the Executionary Corps Team 2, Bludgeon.
“We got new cleaning tools. It was by letter, but GM approved it. There is no issue,” Radix replied.
A large, robed man, Jangsanbeom—the leader of the Executionary Corps Team 3, Assassination—scratched his head and remarked, “There must be at least two people. Who could take the places of GM and Lee Kang-San?”
The spring cleaning required two people—a broom to sweep the trash, and a dustpan to prevent any fleeing trash from escaping the Cecil Hotel.
“The broom is Cheon Seong-Hwi,” Radix said.
“Cheon Seong-Hwi? RB?!”
“Are you saying he is as powerful as Lee Kang-San?”
“Hmm... I heard he slayed a dragon during the invasion, but still.”
The robed members murmured. They did not know Seong-Hwi’s true power. Radix stared at them as he recalled the change in Seong-Hwi’s aura when he saw him again.
I felt the same as back in my days as a child, standing before House Hod’s Sefirah. It was the same feeling of absolute defeat. I’m sure of it; Cheon Seong-Hwi has reached the realm that Kang-San and GM have reached.
It had only been a few months since they had separated in Forestis, but Seong-Hwi had become a completely different person.
“If the broom is Cheon Seong-Hwi, then who is the dustpan?” one of the robed members asked.
“It’s—”
As Radix was about to answer, someone sprinted through the entrance toward the front desk, racing past the lobby. It was a boy with brown skin, black hair, and black eyes.
“Have you already told him about all the secret tunnels, Chaya?” Radix asked.
“Huff, huff, well... he said it was unnecessary,” Chaya answered.
“What?”
“He said he would just seal the hotel whole.”
Just then, they saw silver-grey steel walls surging from across the front door and windows, and locking sounds echoed repeatedly throughout the hotel.
***
[Activating Unique Skill: Iron Vein Seal.]
The Cecil Hotel was sealed inside a steel box that had appeared out of nowhere, wrapped by several layers of chains.
“Mm, this should be enough,” said a dwarf, holding Ustrina’s Hammer in one hand and stroking his beard with the other. He was Steel King Bafor, with a brass-colored, anvil-shaped star above his head. “Sheesh, he has some nerve to use me, the Steel King, like a tool.”
However, Bafor did not seem offended; rather, he was smiling. He had accepted Seong-Hwi’s request and pretended to return to Ferrum while remaining in the Capital.
“Spring cleaning, eh? It’s a necessary ordeal,” Bafor remarked as he nodded.
Because of his experience with Blue Anvil’s betrayal, he understood the importance of what Seong-Hwi was about to do. A poisonous mushroom growing like a tumor needed to be uprooted before it was too late.
“He might be able to write history with this,” Bafor mumbled as he looked beside him.
Pwooooo! Looks delicious! Bulgasal shouted as it stared at the Iron Vein Seal with sparkling black eyes.
Bafor smiled with his eyes as he stared at Bulgasal, who had spat out enough metal to cover the entire Cecil Hotel.
“Bulgasal, was it? You’re quite amazing.”
Pwoo?
“You can store an infinite amount of metal and bring it out whenever needed? You and I would be perfect partners!” Bafor shouted, his eyes filled with intense greed. “Why don’t you come with me to Ferrum, little one?”
Pwoo! No way! I’m staying with Daddy!
“Oh? What do you like so much about that heartless father of yours? Don’t be like that and come with Grandpa. I’ll feed you mountains of metal every single day.”
M-mountains of... Pwoo! No!
“There are tons of delicious metals in Ferrum. You can have as much veteel, black hardwood, yazoteel, shizteel, amateel, and even janateel as you want.”
Pwooahhh! Really?
“Of course, you can. It appears you like metals with the Iron Vein Seal placed on them, little one. How about every day, I’ll...”
Bafor did his best to seduce Bulgasal with sweet words, and Bulgasal licked its lips as it sniffed with its caterpillar-like trunk.
***
Locking sounds echoed throughout the Cecil Hotel. The reception room turned noisy once the people inside noticed the giant metal walls outside the windows.
“What the hell is that?!”
“The outside got dark all of a sudden!”
“Is that... metal?”
“A manipulation ability! Is it Remy Martin?”
“There was an information leak!”
Just then, a man appeared out of thin air in the center of the room. He wore black boots, a black hoodie, green military pants, and had a dagger at his waist. A devilish mask with its teeth bared covered the man’s face. He scanned the Dark Humans with eyes filled with crimson bloodlust.
“This is your last chance,” the man said. His voice was surely that of the Grim Reaper. “Will you live? Or will you die?”
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