Episode 26: Red Star (4)
The worker nodded, his hands trembling. They weren’t the steady hands of someone accustomed to dissecting demonic beasts and humans. Was he actually afraid?
“Where are the dissected goods delivered?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know. We just dissect and pack them into boxes. I swear, we only know keywords,” he stammered.
“Who picks up the boxes?”
“Someone from above comes. We don’t know when. The finished goods are stored in the warehouse, and they take them whenever they please.”
I lightly grazed the back of his hand with my blade.
“I swear! That’s all we know!” he pleaded.
“Who are these people who come? Any distinguishing features?”
“…Red armbands. They wore military-like uniforms under their robes. Faces were hard to see. Some had southern accents.”
I recalled the Red Star’s lore. In the original story, they were a cult aiming to transcend humans and beasts into a third species. But that relied on beast transformation existing.
The Red Star had grown by exploiting the empire’s hidden Aura technique side effects. Now, with beast transformation seemingly absent, they might be a different entity altogether.
‘Yet too much aligns with the original story.’
After eleven years of certainty, the world’s differences from the original were becoming apparent, though similarities remained.
Was this truly the original world, or something else? A romance mod? A new creation based on the original? I couldn’t rush to conclusions.
‘The emperor called the Red Star a rebel organization.’
I organized what I knew and learned: The Red Star wasn’t a cult but a rebel group. They processed demonic beasts, monsters, and fallen soldiers’ corpses, distributing them for profit, with nine-tenths going to the higher-ups.
From here, it was speculation. Only some corpses were dissected here; most were likely preserved intact and shipped elsewhere—probably the south.
In the original story, the south conducted bio-experiments to surpass the empire’s Aura techniques, driven by ambition to dominate the continent.
If the south partnered with the Red Star for corpses as experimental material, it could explain the “procedure” the bald man mentioned.
The south supplied technology in exchange for corpses, which the Red Star refined and spread within the empire to fuel their rebellion.
‘It’s not impossible.’
I wouldn’t discard any possibility, however slim. Keeping this hypothesis in mind, I asked,
“Any transaction records linked to nobles or higher-ups?”
The worker’s eyes darted side to side. I ripped off his bird-beak mask and clamped his mouth.
Slowly—deliberately—I drove my sword into his thigh, twisting to maximize pain. His muffled scream was stifled as I gripped his throat.
“There… there are records!” he gasped.
“Where?”
He flailed, pointing to one side. I kept his neck in a chokehold, letting him retrieve a ledger. It listed corpses for delivery and clients but lacked evidence tying to nobles.
‘Not enough. I need to dig deeper to expose the truth.’
I flipped through the ledger quickly. It was filled with code names, devoid of identifiable details. The ledger was a clue, but the key was linking those code names to real people. My grip tightened on his throat, the sound of twisting bones audible.
“Anything else?”
“That’s… not here. I swear, they’ll kill me if I talk!”
His eyes shook wildly, torn between hiding and revealing the truth.
“Then where?”
His pupils spun in panic. A sudden clatter of metal echoed from downstairs. Reflexively, I sheathed my blade and melted into the shadows.
A group of heavily armed figures approached through the corridor, clad in black robes and masks with red armbands.
“Bring out all the processed goods now!” one barked.
I pressed against the wall, donning the worker’s robe and hiding the corpse in a corner.
Wearing the bird-beak mask, I bent my knees slightly to match the worker’s height, concealing the sword and ledger inside the robe.
I followed the other worker out of the room. Both of us wore masks, blending in.
The red-armbanded man glanced at the worker and asked curtly,
“Number 11, where are the goods?”
“…!” The worker, called Number 11, flinched and stammered,
“S-sorry, I’ll bring them out quickly.”
His lips trembled, voice trailing off. He knew I was watching. Yet he didn’t expose me, likely valuing his life more.
Number 11 moved to retrieve the goods, and I followed discreetly.
As I turned to enter the workspace, the red-armbanded man grabbed my shoulder. Releasing it as if appraising me, he muttered,
“You’re sturdier than you look.”
“You’ve got some muscle, Number 38. Been working out while dissecting?” the man remarked.
The robe hid most of my build, but it couldn’t conceal my muscle mass. I glanced at him, meeting his blood-red eyes through his black mask—dark, unreadable eyes. He continued, probing.
“Training’s good. Especially in a rough world like this.”
He was suspicious. I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t seem to be just my physique or muscles.
‘Was it Number 11’s reaction?’
I’d been threatening Number 11 right before we left the workspace. Staying calm after such a life-threatening ordeal would be suspicious in itself. Perhaps the man’s doubts stemmed from Number 11’s behavior.
I couldn’t disguise my voice. Astier might have tricks for that, but I didn’t.
Whispering softly could work in some situations, but not here—it would only raise more suspicion.
The man’s eyes deepened, as if he’d confirmed something. He stepped back slowly, his hand already on his curved sword.
“Used an enhancer, huh? Now that I look, your eye color’s different too. Don’t overdo it, or your body might go boom,”
he said, his tone joking but his eyes cold.
The air twisted. His curved sword slowly left its sheath.
‘He’s onto me.’
Red smoke rose around him. It resembled Aura but was distinct—closer to something primal. The faint Aura I’d seen at the auction house flashed in my mind. I sighed and responded.
“Yeah, I used it.”
“Your voice changed too. Even your speech? So many side effects at once—Number 38’s a first,” he said.
The moment he finished, we swung our swords almost simultaneously. His curved blade clashed with my reinforced armament sword, but he was pushed back. His blade’s edge was visibly damaged after one exchange. He grinned, spinning lightly.
“Guessed as much, but didn’t think it’d be true.”
Another figure stepped forward—a hulking man who’d been watching from the back, hands clasped behind him.
“Careful. He might be the one who killed Hailier,” he said.
“Boss, can’t you tell? Even with Aura, I got pushed back. That’s the guy,” the swordsman replied.
“Could be more than one.”
“Ah, good point—”
The swordsman drew another curved blade and charged. Black-masked men followed, rushing forward, while the workers scrambled into the workspace for cover.
I’d already decided to kill everyone here. Turning the corpse disposal site into a dead zone was my task, beyond just gathering intel. Unlike the auction house, I unleashed both Wave and Aura.
I swung my sword horizontally—a light, crisp strike, like waving a branch. The heads of a dozen charging enemies rolled across the floor, blood spurting from severed necks.
“…!!”
Only the man who seemed like their leader blocked my strike—barely. His broadsword snapped in half. Blood seeped from a gash on his neck. His eyes shook wildly, realizing things were going very wrong.
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