I firmly pressed down on the bastard's head with all my strength. I felt a slight resistance, something hard pushing back, but I applied even more force. A sensation traveled up through my foot—the feeling of Belphegor's skull being crushed. My foot sank further, grinding his head down, until I finally felt the solid ground beneath me.
After rubbing my foot against the remains a couple of times, I lifted it slightly. What was left of his head had turned into a mashed, unrecognizable pulp of blood and gore.
Letting out a brief sigh, I took a moment to admire the sight before bending down and reaching toward his chest.
Even as I placed my hand on the left side of his chest, Belphegor showed no reaction. Not a single twitch. No breathing, nothing. From the outside, he appeared completely and utterly dead.
With a calm expression, I pushed my hand straight in his chest.
Squelch.
The sensation of piercing through flesh—tougher than that of a human. I smirked as I looked down at Belphegor, whose chest I had just torn open.
"Maybe I shouldn't have broken your horns. Feels like a bit of a waste… But oh well, you did summon Sculepf, so I'd call this a profitable deal. Don't you think, Belphegor?"
Of course, there was no response.
I rummaged through the insides of his chest for a while until my fingers finally grasped something. A deep, satisfied smile spread across my lips. Just as I thought—it was here.
Stopping my hand near his heart, I clenched my fingers around the object and yanked it out with all my might.
And yet… even after having what was essentially his heart forcibly ripped from his body, Belphegor showed no signs of movement.
I let out a pleased chuckle as I gazed down at the round, jet-black sphere in my hand, now covered in thick, dark blue blood.
"Heh… As expected of a high-ranked one. Something like this is bound to come out."
I twirled the jet-black sphere in my fingers before glancing at what remained of Belphegor.
"Well, whether it's your sword or your heart, I'll put them to good use. Thanks for the donation."
With that, I turned away, ready to leave.
But then, I stopped.
Instead of walking away, I turned back around and casually dropped myself onto the ground in front of his body.
"You know, that's just rude. I thanked you, even said my goodbyes. The least you could do is see me off properly, don't you think?"
Silence.
I let out a sigh before shoving my hand back into his split-open chest.
"...."
"Don't bother playing dead. I already know you're still alive."
The moment I said that, I felt it—a faint tremor, a subtle movement within his body.
Gotcha.
I grinned, savoring the long-awaited reaction, before channeling a surge of magic into my palm. Then, with a burst of heat, I unleashed pure, concentrated fire into the depths of his chest.
Fwoosh!
The brilliant flames ignited from within, rapidly spreading and consuming his entire body. Thick, black smoke billowed out from his chest, curling into the air.
Watching the spectacle, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Ha! Sneaky bastard. Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Everything you scheming demons try is already in the palm of my hand. Hahaha!"
"Kwaaaah… Kuaaaaah…!"
The thick, black smoke let out a wailing cry, filled with resentment and despair. But I simply watched, entertained by the spectacle.
The brilliant flames that had devoured Belphegor's entire body flickered, reaching out into the air, dragging the last remnants of his existence into the void.
"Kiiiaah… Kiiiaaaah…!"
Propping my chin up with one arm, I observed the process in silence.
Who was it that called me weak?
Taking down Belphegor today was a major step toward achieving my ultimate goal—the reason I returned to Hall Plain.
As the bright flames danced, consuming the last wisps of smoke, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. With this, Belphegor—the one who had been entangled with me in a long, bitter fate during my first life—was completely erased, soul and all.
Just to be sure, I activated my Third Eye and meticulously scanned the area where he had been. I waited, but no new information surfaced. That was enough to make me grin in triumph.
And with that, I let myself fall backward, lying flat on the ground.
I basked in the emotions welling up from deep within—relief, victory, and an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.
Whoever said revenge was hollow?
This… this was sweet. Refreshing.
For the first time in what felt like forever, true happiness filled every fiber of my being. A satisfied smile spread across my face.
As the tension that had held my body together finally loosened, a wave of dizziness hit me like a hammer.
A dull thud rang in my skull, and I realized the cost of using Hwajung with my low vitality was catching up to me.
The recoil had been accumulating ever since I pushed my abilities to their limit on the third floor. The only thing keeping me standing was sheer willpower—my potential ability Last Man Standing, my mental fortitude, and the endless, burning desire for revenge that had fueled me all this time.
"Haa…"
But it's fine. Everything feels fine.
Even my own breath tasted sweet with satisfaction. I was in such a good mood that I almost considered just falling asleep right then and there.
Instead, I carefully tucked Belphegor's core into my coat and reached out in the direction where I had kicked the sword earlier.
Whoosh—Thud.
"Oh?"
As if it had been waiting for me, something suddenly flew through the air and landed perfectly in my palm.
It was the very same demonic sword—Sculepf.
Belphegor had summoned it, but thanks to my quick response, he hadn't even had the chance to swing it properly. Now, the blade pulsed lightly in my grasp.
Amused, I chuckled and muttered, "Heh. Don't you think you're a little too quick to switch masters? Sure, Belphegor's dead, but still…"
Wuuung…
The sword vibrated in response.
I raised a brow. This thing… was actually reacting to me?
What a funny little guy.
Either way, Sculepf was a high-tier demonic sword. Even in the later stages of Hall Plain, it would still be incredibly useful. There was no reason not to take it.
As if reading my thoughts—or perhaps begging me not to discard it or destroy it—the sword let out another low, eerie whine.
"Alright, alright. It's not like I plan to use you myself anyway. I'll find you a good owner, so just be patient for a bit."
As I muttered in a tired tone, the sword immediately stopped vibrating.
Hah. Never thought I'd see the day when a sword acted all clingy.
Well, I suppose it wasn't that strange. It was a cursed sword, after all. Weapons like these had their own consciousness, though they usually didn't just accept anyone as their wielder.
I tilted my head, a bit puzzled by how easily it warmed up to me, but it wasn't a bad thing. Without much thought, I tucked Sculepf into my coat.
The only thing in my field of vision now was the old, faded ceiling above me.
I didn't feel like getting up.
My party was probably still waiting on the third floor. Hell, knowing them, they might have already started looking for me.
It wasn't that I couldn't get up—I just really didn't want to.
This wasn't just simple drowsiness. The backlash from my earlier abilities was taking a toll on my body, screaming at me to rest.
But whatever. With Belphegor dealt with, the Ruined Laboratory was as good as cleared.
Still lying down, I lazily turned my head to glance toward the rooms on the first floor—the same ones we had passed through when we first entered.
Before getting obliterated by my attack back on the third floor, Belphegor had used his signature ability, Dark Fairytale, to escape.
Not that it mattered.
I already knew he was still inside the laboratory. There was nowhere else for him to run.
So, I tracked him.
Just before I started the chase, I had seen my party still safely waiting inside the protective barrier.
"I'll handle the tracking alone. You all stay here and wait."
They all shouted something at me, but I didn't have the luxury to argue.
I simply tossed out that one line and leapt down the stairs without hesitation.
With Third Eye fully activated, I was able to confirm his presence on the first floor.
Sure enough, when I arrived, I found him frantically scraping at the ground inside one of the rooms, as if searching for something.
A hidden passage, maybe?
I'd have to check it out before leaving. More and more tasks came to mind. But none of them were urgent. The most pressing matter was explaining everything, and even that wasn't something I needed to stress over right now.
I had already decided to reveal my true strength through a clan application the moment I returned to Mule. The only thing that had changed was the timing—it would simply happen a little sooner than planned.
Then, out of nowhere, a face surfaced in my mind.
Jung Ha-Yeong.
Dealing with her wouldn't be easy. That woman is sharp. I chuckled to myself, amused by the thought. In the end, I decided to rest for now. There was no need to rush. Everything would unfold naturally, whether I worried about it or not.
And besides—
My body felt unbearably heavy, like a waterlogged mass of cotton. Maybe it was time to seriously reconsider my stat allocation. Increasing my Vitality points was becoming a necessity.
With that as my final thought, I emptied my mind completely. And as I closed my eyes, I felt the darkness slowly creeping in, pulling me into sleep.
*
How much time had passed? It didn't feel like I had truly slept. More like I had blacked out—forced into unconsciousness by sheer exhaustion. Still, the dizziness that had been swirling in my head was gone.
Slowly, I opened my eyes… and was met with total darkness.
I blinked once. Nothing changed. My vision remained shrouded in black. At the same time, I felt something soft and warm pressing against my cheek and the side of my head. I tilted my head in confusion.
What is this?
Curious, I nuzzled into it, rubbing my face against the mysterious softness.
Something shifted beneath me.
It moved.
But for some reason, it didn't feel unpleasant.
So, I did it again, pressing my cheek into the sensation, relishing the smooth texture. It felt surprisingly nice. Without thinking, I let out a deep, contented sigh.
And then—
"Hhhn…!"
A stifled, breathy sound.
And the soft, cushion-like thing beneath my head twitched in response. My mind snapped into full alert. A cold sensation touched my forehead, and the darkness over my eyes lifted. A bad feeling crept over me.
Slowly, I shifted my gaze upward. A curtain of silky, short hair. A delicate, composed face. Cool, intelligent eyes staring down at me.
Jung Ha-Yeong.
Our eyes locked.
For a moment, I said nothing—just letting the reality of the situation sink in.
Alright. Let's analyze this.
I had lost consciousness. The party had found me. They checked on my condition. And at some point…
Jung Ha-Yeong had decided to give me a lap pillow.
…Up to this point, everything made sense.
There were two things I couldn't quite wrap my head around.
First—why was Jung Ha-Yeong, of all people, the one giving me a lap pillow when the rest of the party was also here? And second—why the hell was my head buried inside her robe, resting on the inner side of her thigh?
Seeking answers, I spoke in a calm, measured tone.
"Hello there."
"...."
"My head is very comfortable right now."
At my unusually composed manner of speaking, Jung Ha-Yeong exhaled softly through her nose, as if she could read my thoughts.
Then, in that ever-crystal-clear voice of hers, she said—
"I'll tell you this in advance."
As she spoke, her hand, which had been gently stroking my forehead, moved to the back of my head, applying light pressure.
A silent cue to sit up.
"I want you to know that I had no intention of letting your head go there."
There was no hesitation in her words.
"You did that all on your own."
I took a moment to process her statement.
Then, in a steady voice, I countered,
"Hmm. Then wouldn't it have made sense for you to remove my insolent little head?"
Jung Ha-Yeong let out the faintest sigh.
"Oh, I did."
Her voice was calm, as if recounting a simple fact.
"I pulled your head away. Several times, actually. But no matter how many times I moved it back, you kept burrowing right back in."
She paused.
"By the seventh time, I gave up. Congratulations. Seven losses, eight tries—you persevered."
"…I apologize. It was absolutely unintentional."
I hesitated for a moment before adding,
"But… uh…"
There was a subtle sharpness in her tone, like a thorn hidden beneath silk. With no further excuses left to make, I quickly apologized and hurried to sit up.
But the moment I tried—
All the strength drained from my body. The world tilted sideways. No, not the world—I was losing my balance. Still halfway through rising, I swayed dangerously—on the verge of collapsing backward.
And then—
Thud.
Soft.
Jung Ha-Yeong reacted instantly, catching me before I could hit the floor.
And in doing so, I ended up falling right back into her arms.
Pressed against her.
I froze.
Because through the back of my head, I could feel it.
Soft.
Yet firm.
And unexpectedly… well-endowed.
"…Like this." She murmured dryly.
I swallowed.
"I wanted to believe you," She continued, her voice edged with skepticism.
"But after what just happened, I can't."
Her tone was pointed, but not truly angry.
At least, I didn't think she was angry.
Regaining some semblance of control, I pushed myself up and managed to sit properly, my ass finally planted on the floor.
For a split second, I considered saying, Well, if you didn't want this to happen, maybe you shouldn't have given me a lap pillow in the first place.
But sheer survival instinct kept my mouth firmly shut.
Somehow, I had a feeling that particular comment would push her into actual irritation.
Unfortunately for me, Jung Ha-Yeong was way too perceptive.
"Just in case, let me clarify something." Jung Ha-Yeong added.
"I did choose to take care of you myself. That part is true."
She paused, then gave a wry smile.
"But I didn't really have a choice."
I tilted my head.
"And why is that?"
She let out a soft sigh.
"Because I couldn't trust An-Sol or Yun-Jung to handle it properly."
Her tone was dry, but not unkind.
That was one of the things I liked about talking with Jung Ha-Yeong—
She didn't over-explain things.
She got straight to the point, just like Kim Han-Byeol.
Right now was no different.
On the surface, we were just exchanging lighthearted banter.
But we both knew—this was just a warm-up.
A casual lead-in before we got to the real conversation.
Still, her demeanor told me everything I needed to know—
She was giving me time.
Letting me regain my bearings before diving into anything serious.
I caught the meaning behind her words easily—
And with that, I accepted the situation for what it was.
I scratched my head a couple of times and looked around the room.
It seemed they had brought me into one of the first-floor rooms.
Which meant we still hadn't left the ruined laboratory.
I had worried that they might carry me back to Mule while I was unconscious—
But thankfully, that wasn't the case. Leaving now, without checking the secret passage, would've been a waste. But something felt off. The others were nowhere in sight.
I quickly spread my senses around the area before turning to Jung Ha-Yeong.
"And the others?"
"Third floor," She replied plainly.
"There wasn't much left but ashes, but they wanted to see if anything was salvageable."
Her clear-cut answer made me let out a low groan.
Then, gathering what strength I had, I forced myself to stand.
This time, unlike before, I was able to keep my balance almost effortlessly.
As if my previous weakness had been a lie.
I felt her gaze sharpen.
"…It's not what you think."
"Mm. Maybe."
Her voice was calm, but I could hear the subtle skepticism.
"Then again, Sol did practically spam healing spells on you."
"…Hah."
I let out a deep sigh and took a moment to assess my body. I wasn't sure how long I had been unconscious, but it couldn't have been too long. As I tested my movements, making sure everything was in working order—
I heard footsteps.
Multiple sets.
Approaching from beyond the door.
I instinctively steadied myself, bracing for their arrival. Then, I turned my gaze toward Jung Ha-Yeong. She met my eyes, her expression as composed as ever.
But beneath that stillness, her eyes held something deeper—
A quiet, heavy weight sinking within them.
.
.
.
.
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