"After that, I no longer wanted the company. Instead, I wanted to destroy everything about the Ming family.
My hatred had found a spark that made it burn even more fiercely, and the desire to destroy increased.
Before the apocalypse, I was planning to cooperate with an agent from the government.
The plan was to use a borrowed knife to destroy the Ming Corporation.
Unfortunately, the apocalypse happened and took care of that plan for me.
Yet I was still at a loss because the hatred never went away.
It just grew louder at the smell of blood.
That was when I heard the whispers—speaking directly into my heart.
Words of malice, despair, and chaos.
And of you".
Ming Ji, who had been in a daze, focused on him now.
The gaze he directed at the fat boy lying on the ground was one of relief.
"Do you find me unreasonable?" he asked, smiling kindly at him.
Ming Jun: No, I find you mad!
But he still shook his head, not wanting to provoke the madman.
"You're a very bad liar, dear brother. And way too innocent." He pinched his cheek.
Ming Jun: It's hard not to lie properly when I'm in this position.
But he only pursed his lips lightly.
"But I do wonder why you let yourself be demeaned by them until you became this." Ming Ji looked him over from top to bottom.
Ming Jun: Well, thank you very much.
He rolled his eyes internally.
"What else did you want me to do?" Ming Jun retorted.
"Fight back. Refuse. At least try to rebel against what they said about you," Ming Ji emphasized the word try.
"I could not fight back, and I could not escape." Ming Jun looked at him calmly.
His eyes did not quiver, and his face remained bland.
"You could have tried to report them," Ming Ji muttered to himself.
"They own a piece of the economy. Who would defy them for me?"
"Then why not try to run away?"
Ming Jun began to breathe heavily.
"I was a child—where would I run to? I became a teenager, and school was like a chain that bound me."
Ming Ji spoke as if he didn't notice the other person's erratic state.
"You could have learned to draw, to sing, or at least be book-smart. You could have done something."
Ming Jun slammed his fist on the ground in anger.
His eyes were red, giving them an evil tinge like that of a bloodthirsty beast.
"I did try to learn a talent, but I just wasn't good at anything. My inferiority doesn't come from my father—it comes from me.
I am not smart or talented, and frankly, my fat body doesn't do anything for my appearance.
And I know that. I understand that very much.
Yet he is my father.
As much as I despise him, he is my father—and that unspoken connection tethers us together.
I accepted that and simply lived the way they all wanted me to.
Hoping that they would find it somewhere to tolerate this good-for-nothing me."
Ming Jun looked straight at him.
They both stared into each other's eyes—
one calm and indifferent, the other red with hate and rage.
The air was silent, and the words—spoken and unspoken—hung heavy in it.
This subtle mood was broken when Ming Ji raised his head to the ceiling and covered it with his hands.
His body shook, and Ming Jun could hear the chuckles slipping through his fingers.
Ming Jun: Help, the psychopath is having a fit again.
Ming Jun immediately shivered and looked away.
"I finally figured it out, dear brother.
Why I hate you so much, and why your death is so special to me.
Aren't you happy?" Ming Ji's lips stretched wide, his smile even crazier than his chuckling.
Ming Jun: I really don't need to…
He had a face of wanting to cry but not daring to.
"At first, I thought it was because you and your weakness were like a knife plunging into the scars I tried to forget over and over again," he muttered, patting Ming Jun's head.
"But now I realize it's because of something else—your purity.
Despite living in such a place that would dirty the purest soul, you remain a good person.
You might hate them for all they did, but you also do not wish for their death.
In a way, that absence of deep hatred sets you free.
You're free from them, and you can leave at any time.
I want that purity… that freedom. And I also hate it.
I want you to despair and fall into the darkness.
So thank you—for reminding me and making me understand.
Now, have a good dream, dear brother, because it's the last thing you'll see.
And pray that you have a dream… unless you want to die with darkness in your sight."
Ming Ji gave him one last gentle smile as his hand reached for Ming Jun's forehead.
Ming Jun's pupils dilated in fear, and he instinctively tried to struggle.
But he was bound once again and could only watch helplessly as his vision dimmed.
The last thing he saw was his half-blood brother—with bloodshot eyes and a gentle smile.
Ming Ji clapped his hands in satisfaction.
Then he picked up the bowl of blood and completed the symbol on Ming Jun's body.
He hummed a tune as he drew, his smile still gentle.
After finishing his task, he placed the bowl down and stepped outside the moldy room.
He followed the path from memory—passing destroyed furniture and corpses wearing uniforms.
He walked over the sticky bloodstains without avoiding them, skipping over clustered corpses.
Until he reached the outside of the huge manor.
On the lawn stood Jae-Hyun.
"You're here," Ming Ji said, delighted.
"Yes. I'm here to kill you." Jae-Hyun looked at him sharply.
"Oh—what a delight." Ming Ji looked at him in joy.
"Don't worry. It won't be like last time." Jae-Hyun sneered.
"I can't wait to taste your despair once again." Ming Ji smiled crazily.
Jae-Hyun didn't want to talk anymore with a lunatic, but his words made him angry.
He was reminded of that feeling of failure he'd experienced in his last life.
"I can taste a bit of it now," Ming Ji said in ecstasy.
Jae-Hyun didn't speak further—he acted upon his fury.
His stats were at maximum limit due to a buff during the special event of killing the director.
He didn't use a gun, because the director was physically enhanced, and dodging bullets would be easy.
So Jae-Hyun took out a cutlass from his system space.
Then he activated various skills:
[One with the Blade]: The blade becomes an extension of your will.
[Burst]: The blood pumps efficiently, and your physique breaks out.
[Focus]: The mind is centered; thinking capacity sharpens and heightens.
[Fire]: Apply bursts of flame from the hands.
[Ice]: The breath becomes cold, freezing the air.
Jae-Hyun stamped the concrete with force to build momentum.
The ground cracked, and his figure flashed forward.
The sharp glint of the blade reflected the bright sun—the slash merciless and direct, aimed at the director's head.
The director didn't dodge. His hands stretched out to catch it.
His muscles bulged, veins tightening under the strain.
The blade landed squarely on his hands—but it didn't cut through the flesh as expected.
Instead, only a thin line of blood flowed down the hand that gripped the blade.
His fingers clenched tightly around it.
Similarly, Jae-Hyun's muscles bulged from the struggle.
Both were locked in a stalemate—the director smiling, Jae-Hyun's gaze filled with killing intent.
The balance broke when the director flung the blade aside and threw a punch with his other hand.
Jae-Hyun, caught off guard, redirected his stance swiftly.
Due to [One with the Blade], he could change its direction mid-swing.
The blade swung back, wrapped in blue flames.
The director squinted and stamped his foot backward.
He blocked the flames with his arm, not flinching even as his hand was cut off and burned.
His remaining hand went straight for Jae-Hyun's neck.
His fist clenched, and his eyes glowed red.
The director knew that choking Jae-Hyun would give him a chance to break free—but a punch to the windpipe would disorient him.
It could also shift direction to the chest for a fatal blow.
Jae-Hyun didn't wait. The blade redirected once more to meet the attack.
Just before impact, the director spun rapidly—his foot connecting heavily with Jae-Hyun's chest.
Jae-Hyun was stunned but barely managed to block the kick.
He staggered back, blood churning and a dull ache spreading through his chest.
He spat out a little blood.
He didn't have time to assess the damage—another fist was coming.
He raised his head and blew out a cold breath that froze the air.
The director, already charging forward, couldn't stop his momentum.
He ducked at the last second, slamming into Jae-Hyun's stomach.
But Jae-Hyun wasn't stupid. He lowered his head, and the director felt a deep chill on his back.
The director tried to let go, but Jae-Hyun entangled himself with him and set his body ablaze.
Flames engulfed them both—burning hot and merciless.
The director struggled to break free, but Jae-Hyun held tight, controlling the flames so they wouldn't consume his skin entirely.
The fire burned everything—including Jae-Hyun himself.
He was barely protected by a skill:
[Shield]: To fight recklessly is to have a sturdy body that can block even one's own attacks.
But he had to keep the skill active—its duration ending before the flames did would mean his death.
He also had to ensure the director couldn't escape.
The two rolled across the ground.
Jae-Hyun, whose skill was nearing its end, grew anxious.
System, can I increase the skill to the highest level? he said internally.
His face was drenched in sweat, his breathing strained as the fire devoured the air.
[Seeking permission from higher management…]
[Permission successful. System upgraded.]
The flames flared violently, burning so fiercely that the entire mansion turned to ash.
The director, caught in the inferno, was reduced to a blackened husk.
Jae-Hyun, weak and dizzy, felt like he had nearly died.
He lay on the scorched grass, covered in ash and light burns.
His clothes were burnt to ashes, clinging to him like a blanket.
He coughed weakly and turned his head toward the director.
The blackened figure had no features left—
but the arc of his mouth still formed a semicircle.
He was smiling, even in death.
"Ah… so that's how it is."
Those were his last words.
The smile remained frozen on his face.
[Main Quest Complete.]
Jae-Hyun couldn't hold on any longer and passed out as the message flashed before his eyes.
The mansion had turned to ash. The battle was over.
A curvy figure in a dress appeared at the scene.
Park Haeun snorted and kicked the unconscious Jae-Hyun.
Then she glanced at the burnt corpse with a sneer.
The director had noticed her at the last moment.
His face disfigured and black as coal with his eyes malformed.
But those eyes still had an expression even with its current appearance of being burnt.
She read his lips and heard what he said before dying.
But what pissed her off was the mocking expression—
a mix of pity and condescension on his black face.
It was like he was looking at an old man on his deathbed claiming to be a child.
As if he knew something she didn't—something that would lead her to her own death blindly.
Park Haeun rolled her eyes.
She had heard the whispers just like he did.
But she was different… special.
She had been given a directive—to complete the ritual after the director's death—because the whispers had already planned his demise.
So how dare this wretched man pity me?
Hmph. You were already set to die as bait from the beginning, while I would be the one to enjoy all the power.
Park Haeun snorted at his corpse one more time before walking toward the mansion's remains.
The entire building was ash, but Ming Jun's room was in the basement area—originally a storage room, far from the guests and residents inside.
Park Haeun walked down the steps cautiously.
She wondered what on earth could have killed Kang Jiyeon—
especially when the biggest threat, Jae-Hyun, lay unconscious far away.
Ming Jun, who had been lying on the ground with his eyes closed, suddenly twitched.
Then the brown of his eyes deepened into a dark red, and the expression on his face turned sinister.