[Settlement complete!]

We left the ruined world and returned to empty space. Seong Hyunjae stood beside me.

[Calculating results~.]

The Crescent Sect, if the world where Seong Hyunjae resided does not succumb to the Origin, will hatch the Transcendent’s seed and have it consume that world. The Crescent Sect cannot arbitrarily hatch the seed—otherwise it would have destroyed the world instead of killing Song Taewon.

‘Perhaps it was set to hatch only after Seong Hyunjae had ample new experiences or at the precise moment the world halted the Origin. The seed might need preparation time to hatch.’

Normally they would simply observe and wait, but this time there was a singularity: Song Taewon, the eclipse. Someone capable of killing Seong Hyunjae existed.

[Calculating…]

‘So they moved urgently, dealt with Director Song, and the plunder went to Seong Hyunjae. Then I regressed.’

Now the Crescent Sect’s foremost objective is either to eliminate Song Taewon or recover Seong Hyunjae. Once the eclipse vanishes, they can leave Seong Hyunjae be—this world is doomed anyway.

‘But they cannot harm Director Song, nor release Seong Hyunjae.’

The latter might have many supporters, but still. Even if the Crescent Sect withdrew now, the seed of destruction remains.

[Error occurred! Please wait a moment!]

‘The seed. We can exclude those who directly confronted the Crescent Sect.’

Anyone who met the Sect’s seed would have shown a reaction. Or the Sect would have tried to utilize them. I, who briefly inhabited their game at the wedding, could have intruded too. The only contacts the Sect made were in the Chinese dungeon and at Seong Hyunjae’s wedding. Those who remained silent at the wedding should be safe.

‘First, it’s not Yuhyun. Had they targeted him, they’d have used him as a hostage to threaten me.’

In that logic, it’s not Riette either. At the wedding, the Sect offered me anything I desired. If Yuhyun or Riette were in their grasp, they’d surely have been offered as a price. Recovering Seong Hyunjae is top priority.

‘Mari-sa-mur? Born S-Rank and collaborating with the Crescent Sect, she’s the prime suspect. She avoided appearing at the wedding, which is suspicious. Yet she also tried to protect the world.’

There was one more born S-Rank who might cheerfully say, “As long as my sibling’s safe, the world’s end is fine.” But surely not Riette.

[Removing error…]

‘Or perhaps the final born S-Rank. The newcomer said there’s no data on one remaining individual.’

Maybe they loitered in dormancy to avoid other Transcendents’ notice. Or perhaps it’s a non–born-S-Rank Awakened—like Do Hamin out of nowhere. Would he become a hamster Transcendent if he consumed the world? We don’t yet know how to distinguish them. If we find the seed, what then?

‘Should I inform the newcomer and get assistance?’

That would violate the system’s rules and the Sect’s purpose. Yet we cannot trust the other Sect members—they have always allowed a world to perish in exchange for birthing a Transcendent. They deem it more beneficial to add one more Transcendent than to save a world.

If we asked, they might respond: “The Crescent Sect planted the seed to create Transcendents? Good efficiency.” Such would be their reaction.

The problem lies with the very board we stand on. There is no answer so long as we remain on it. Even if we escape, we lack the means—but still…

‘…If we face an immature Transcendent pre-consumption, perhaps we could—’

[Result!]

The message flashed boldly. Oh, come on…

[Seong Hyunjae victorious!]

“What? Why!”

Wait—did they truly calculate all of Seong Hyunjae’s past exploits? That’s impossible—a scam!

“Seong Hyunjae only ended as wanted! At best he’s a restaurant owner!”

“It’s automatic calculation of achievements, Yujin.”

Myung-woo appeared, tone subdued and apologetic.

“I confirmed that no Transcendent interventions could recur—so you can’t inspect the game details. It only calculates from the system records.”

…I appreciate them blocking Transcendent interference, but this side effect…

“So Yujin, based on your testimony alone, there wasn’t enough proof. We trimmed out much of the error. We tried to remove and tidy everything with the newcomer, yet this result is final.”

Of course. Seong Hyunjae unified worlds and became Emperor. Even if I scored 1 to his 1,000, removing 900 still leaves him a hundred times stronger. Seong Hyunjae approached us.

“In that case, even if I intervened, it would be pointless—and only arouse suspicion.”

He was right. He’d claim the result must stand impartially. I’d have reacted the same.

“Damn.”

“Yujin!”

Myung-woo grabbed my arm.

“Relax your hand!”

“And your jaw.”

Seong Hyunjae added calmly. Right—calm down. I’d done my best. It wasn’t my fault. Yet it stung. When I began this wager, I’d steeled myself to lose at least once—perhaps more, facing Seong Hyunjae and an unhelpful Mermaid Queen. Even so, in the moment it felt like a boulder on my chest—breath choked off, throat tightening.

“Here, eat this.”

Myung-woo pressed a hard candy to my lips. His gaze commanded compliance, so I opened my mouth.

“Ugh!”

What—what is this? Incredibly sweet! A syrupy sweetness flooded my mouth, my head spinning at the rich fragrance. It felt like drowning in thick chocolate from head to toe.

“I… really—”

As I tried to speak, the candy rolled and unleashed its mania of sweetness. The hard shell dissolved into soft strawberry aroma. The flavor shifted again. What on earth did you make, Myung-woo? My mind raced between “Must spit it out!” and “But it tastes so good.” Everything except the candy vanished from my thoughts.

“Uuugh…”

“You okay?”

I hadn’t realized I and Eun-hye had this weakness. Without toxins, they victimize taste. Staggering, Seong Hyunjae caught me. This is a sublethal poison.

“…Myung-woo.”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s feed one to Seong Hyunjae too.”

Curious for his reaction, I held out more candies as Myung-woo warned:

“It’s enchanted to amplify sweetness via mana, so it’s weaker on high-grade Hunters. Though high in sugars, it’s not extreme—but don’t overindulge.”

“Then why give it at all?”

“It relieves stress.”

It did indeed blank my mind—yet granted me a breather.

“…Oh, my life.”

I once thought the toughest challenge was being left alone with my brother. Ironically, quitting school to work was my easiest time. Life, truly. I glanced back at Seong Hyunjae beside me.

“When this is all over, I’ll buy you a drink.”

If only the time came when I could get thoroughly drunk without worry—perhaps even stronger liquor for high-grade Hunters. No reply came; he only smiled.

“Myung-woo, please.”

“I’ll let him know right away. Don’t worry.”

Myung-woo vanished. Soon the Mermaid Queen and the Devouring King appeared. The Queen fixed us with a chill, calm gaze.

“The victor of this game is Chain. He may choose one of the Honey world’s nations.”

My blood simmered once more. Savoring the lingering sweetness on my tongue, I spoke:

“How will it be taken? What about the people living there?”

“In a manner akin to the Origin. Monsters will emerge, turning land into dungeon.”

I recalled the barren wastelands around the towers’ worlds.

“And we have time to evacuate—?”

“It begins as soon as the location is decided.”

The Snake spoke.

“What nonsense.”

I stepped forward. The Devouring King’s gaze met mine; his Terror Resistance skill gleamed.

“The wager was over land, not people.”

“A fragment of your world. Part of the world encompassing all.”

…A world consists of more than mere land. The Snake’s eyes narrowed, devouring.

“You may flee. You may stand and fight.”

“…Fight?”

“The dungeonization starts at the most populous region. If you repel the monsters entirely, the spread stops. You could lose only part of your nation.”

I looked up at the Devouring King. Such terms seemed generous.

“Can we trust this? Even after losing, you give us another chance—no cost?”

“S-Rank. And SSS-Rank.”

From S-Rank up to SSS-Rank. No matter how I strategize, our world’s Hunters cannot contend with these. Even facing an SS-Rank would be dire; an SSS-Rank is absurd.

“…How many SSS-Ranks?”

“One. That suffices. No further interference is possible yet.”

The Devouring King laughed low. His long, ornate nails pointed at me.

“Will you go?”

“If we can. Yet trust is scant.”

Amid the rustle of scales, he said:

“I will block them.”

“Ah.”

The Snake’s fangs gleamed. Its tail’s tip jingled cheerfully.

“Three attempts remain. Spending some of your power to exhaust you is a fine plan.”

Indeed, forcing us to expend cooldown skills and suffer injuries—or even irreversible losses to our team—could be shrewd. Conceding one chance to gain three more is wise.

“That is the overt reason. But what I desire is—”

Clang! The King’s ruby-like tail struck the ground. His ebony-and-gold pupils sharpened.

“Fight. Struggle to survive. Spill your blood for life, and show me everything. The dance of the strongest is exquisitely beautiful, but so is the thrashing of the weakest.”

A gloating smile spread across his face. The long snake body coiled around me.

“Under my name, you and your team have one day—twenty-four hours by your world’s measure. You may return to fight or stay here; the choice is yours.”

“Your gaze suggests you’ll devour us if we stay.”

The snake hissed and laughed low. Its nails brushed my nape.

“In the Honey world, death is not protected.”

The Mermaid Queen’s voice washed over us like cold water. The Devouring King bared his fangs, mood dampened.

“I too agree to the Devouring King’s proposal. But consider your remaining game—stay and rest.”

“You are very thoughtful. Thank you.”

“The Devouring King will watch, but information on skills used by Team Honey is blocked.”

“Thank you!”

“I will determine the fragment of the world.”

The Mermaid Queen’s words fell, and a moment later a message window appeared:

[United Kingdom]

London. The rain had just ceased, leaving the sky overcast. Though winter, the air was mild; puddles lay shallow. Across the Thames, Big Ben’s great hand crawled toward the hour’s end. The colossal clock had long since ceased chiming—when London’s first Dungeon Break rang, monsters drew to the sound and breached the cordon. Yet as dungeon management stabilized, calls grew to resume its chimes.

“Huh?”

Above the Elizabeth Tower, the sky flickered momentarily. A handful of pedestrians halted as they noticed. Immediately:

BEEEEEP! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Everyone’s phones buzzed in unison—the dungeon alarm. London’s dungeons, thoroughly managed, had last broken a half-year ago. Though startled, people calmly checked their screens. If not a high-grade dungeon, Hunters would swiftly handle it. So if they avoided the danger zones for just a moment—

“…London?!”

[Evacuation Area: All of London]

“All of London?!”

“Where on earth did the dungeon breach?”

“This is madness—where are we supposed to go?!”

Then broadcasts began. Every possible channel was inundated with urgent alerts:

[Dungeon Break Alert. Evacuate London immediately. Dungeon Break Alert. Evacuate London immediately.]

“Evacuate immediately,” yet London spans over a thousand square kilometers—more than twice Seoul’s size. People panicked, unsure where to flee. Calls for loved ones splintered the air.

“What about hospitals! What happens to the hospitals?!”

“I’m on my way—don’t pack, just come outside now!”

Amid the spreading chaos, a shaft of light cleaved the sky. A beam dozens of meters long plunged earthward, then split to form a corridor. All eyes turned to the glowing passage. Finally, a blinding flash spread forth.

“The Goblin King has arrived!”

Billowing white robes, Yunyun alighted through the long-distance gate—the Goblin Door. She was not alone.

“Hello! England’s Mr. Kim!”

“Idiot, it’s bonjour!”

“That’s France! Hello! Hi! Nice to meet you!”

Goblins poured forth, dancing and shouting with joy.

“Look at me, look at me, look at me~.”

“Like the Han River, deep and wide~.”

“Thames River! Thames River!”

Vibrant flags whipped in the breeze—GOBLIN KING spelled in bold letters, colors flying as gongs and jing clashed. At the rear of nearly a hundred goblins appeared a boy with pink wings.

“Scatter out! Spread evenly!”

“Yes, Commander Kim’s home!”

Yunyun executed a grand somersault then wielded her drumsticks with vigor.

“My subordinates, go! Clear the way!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Hey, you should go that way!”

“Spread out! Spread wide!”

“Hospital first!”

“Don’t forget the nursing homes and orphanages!”

The goblins took to London’s sky, parting like a living kaleidoscope. They descended across the city, using their personal teleport skills—normally too taxing for one human to accompany. Here stood:

[Goblin Door (SS)]

The Goblin King’s skill enabled each goblin’s portal to link with the King’s, creating dozens of small but human-sized passages. Around the grandest light soared myriad beams.

[If rapid ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ transport is unavailable, please evacuate via the nearest portal!]

The broadcast changed. Nearly a hundred evacuation routes opened. Those still reeling began calmer, yet urgent, searches for the nearest portal.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep