A criminal organization of players that used the ideal of liberating players as a pretext to commit every kind of crime. It was also the last organization Limon had fought and dismantled as a member of PAB.

The Liberation Brigade (解放旅團).

Ryu Gang-cheol showed no surprise at the name. He merely looked up at Wang Gi-neung as if he had no idea what Wang was talking about and asked, “... Why are you bringing up the Liberation Brigade all of a sudden?”

“No need to play dumb.”

His response sounded so genuinely unfamiliar with the name that, if Wang had been fishing for a reaction, it could only be called a failure. But Wang was not disappointed. He spoke with unshakable conviction.

“Because after examining every piece of information from every angle, the Seven Dragons Society concluded that you belong to the Liberation Brigade.”

“What information did you examine to reach a conclusion like that?”

“It's a simple process of elimination.”

Perhaps curious about the basis for Wang's certainty, Ryu asked with an inquisitive look despite being pinned beneath Wang's foot and racked with torturous pain. Wang's mouth twisted.

“There aren't many organizations that could use a player like you as a lackey, are there?”

“Aren't you overestimating me?”

“No. It's an entirely objective assessment.”

A count-class player at level 80 or higher was a one-person enterprise and a one-person army. Players at that level generally founded their own guilds and became guild masters, or at least held important positions as deputy masters.

“Basically, there are only three kinds of organizations with enough talent to spare a count-class player for this sort of job.”

The ten great guilds, with their Monarchs. The Seven Dragons Society, which held all the world's wealth. And the great powers that fielded player units.

Each had reached the pinnacle of military strength, wealth, or political power. Unless an organization had high-level players to spare, it could not even contemplate the madness of using a count-class player for corporate terrorism.

“The problem is, we found nothing no matter how thoroughly we investigated those three.”

The Seven Dragons Society was out of the question from the start. Even if its seven clans acted independently, none had any reason to do this. The same went for certain great powers. Attacking the Seven Dragons Society, which held the global economy in its grip, would be an atrocity that left their entire populations destitute.

The ten great guilds were the most plausible suspects. With the power of Monarchs and the riches of dungeons, they had become the undisputed rulers of this era, dangerous rivals beginning to reach into the Seven Dragons Society's territory. The Society had therefore focused its investigation on them.

But it had turned up nothing. No matter which of the ten great guilds they investigated, they found no connection to Ryu Gang-cheol.

“For a while, that nearly brought the investigation to a dead end. Then someone suggested looking at it differently.”

“How differently?”

“Since we couldn't find a lead among those three, why not look for somewhere else that might have a player like you?”

“Isn't that a contradiction?”

“Well, when you're drowning, you'll grab at a straw.”

An individual or group without abundant manpower, yet able to use a count-class player as an assassin. It was an absurd criterion—like looking for someone without a roof over their head who somehow owned tanks and fighter jets.

Even so, the Wang family of Shanghai investigated on the principle that they had nothing to lose. Major corporations and tycoons. Third World countries and cults. Even legendary witches and sorcerers. They searched so indiscriminately that they seriously discussed whether Limon might have staged the whole thing himself.

“But when we looked closely, there was exactly one organization that fit.”

“You mean the Liberation Brigade?”

“Yes. Once we investigated, it fit so perfectly that I wondered why we hadn't thought of it sooner.”

Made up of all manner of criminal players, the Liberation Brigade had many high-level players hidden in its ranks. Its uncompromising player-centered ideology also kept it beyond even the Seven Dragons Society's intelligence network. Despite committing countless crimes and acts of madness, its senior officers were rarely caught and its bases rarely discovered. It was a criminal organization with an almost uncanny lack of any visible presence.

So little was known about its senior officers that people quietly called them “ghosts.” But that also meant there were records of the Liberation Brigade's crimes.

“The massacre of United States senator Jeron's family four years ago. The annihilation of the Slokovskaya Bratva in the Russian Khanate two years ago. The Malta Knights serial murders one year ago. Do you know what all these cases have in common?”

The victims were different. So were the countries where the crimes took place. The three cases appeared entirely unrelated.

But the Seven Dragons Society's intelligence network was not bound by national borders. Wang mockingly listed the common threads it had uncovered.

“First, every victim was either hostile to players or trying to curtail their power through taxation, collective action, or the like.”

Of course, people hostile to players were likely to earn players' resentment. But while the mafia might be one thing, high-level lunatics capable of slaughtering members of the upper echelons of society, such as a senator or the Malta Knights, were rare. And every investigative agency agreed that the Liberation Brigade was the likeliest place for such criminals to belong.

“Second, no useful leads could be found even with skills, so the cases remain unsolved.”

The Liberation Brigade was exceptionally difficult to track. Ryu Gang-cheol had eluded even Tracers. His accomplices remained a mystery. In an age when prophecy and information-gathering skills made it rare for culprits to escape, that was a connection they could not ignore.

“And last, the killer used a knife. One remarkably similar in size and material to the knives you use.”

The investigative agencies of each country had failed to identify the weapons because the skill-based appraisals they ordinarily relied on had not worked. But masters of the Seven Dragons Society trained in tracking techniques had determined from the autopsy records alone that the murder weapons were similar knives.

“Don't you think it's a stretch to call all that mere coincidence?”

Taken separately, each point might be coincidence. But put them all together, and the conclusion was clear: Ryu Gang-cheol was an assassin for the Liberation Brigade, and the Brigade was behind the successive attacks on Black Dragon Clan subsidiaries.

“Now that you put it that way, it does make sense.”

“Are you admitting the Liberation Brigade is behind you?”

“No. I'm saying it makes sense.”

Ryu shook his head, then continued with a broad grin. “But comrade, you have no proof. Isn't it a stretch to accuse me based on circumstances alone?”

“And what of it?”

“... What?”

“Don't misunderstand, my lord ghost of the Liberation Brigade. We're not the police. We're the Seven Dragons Society.”

Law-abiding citizens. The police, sworn to serve the people. Agents of special agencies. The Seven Dragons Society was different from those who could neither settle a grudge nor take revenge themselves without evidence.

“Even if you truly have nothing to do with the Liberation Brigade... No, even if you weren't the one who attacked our clan, it wouldn't matter.”

In the Bronze Age, the will of the seven dragons had taken precedence over law and principle. The Seven Dragons Society consisted of descendants of those who had ruled the world then—fanatics who regarded that age as their ideal, had fought to restore it, and had made that cause their faith and conviction. That was why they had been called the Demonic Cult.

Among them, the head of a distinguished family that had proven its absolute faith and loyalty for generations looked down at Ryu with a cold sneer.

“All that matters is that I think so and the other clans believe it.”

“... You people are insane.”

“We're not insane. The world's simply grown strange compared to how it used to be.”

“That's what being insane means.”

Modern law. Modern ethics. Modern common sense.

Watching Wang Gi-neung dismiss the very purpose of all three, Ryu muttered without thinking. He prided himself on being more than a little unhinged, yet Wang's logic was so thoroughly deranged that even he could only marvel at it.

“What if we are a little insane? Killing pests like the Liberation Brigade can only benefit the world, not harm it.”

“Comrade, you'll be in for a nasty surprise if you underestimate the Liberation Brigade.”

“No need to worry about us. Worry instead about what's going to happen to you and your comrades.”

“Now that sounds like something to look forward to.”

“Do look forward to it. I promise you won't be disappointed.”

THUD!

Wang Gi-neung kicked Ryu Gang-cheol in the head, turned, and left the torture chamber. Then he sighed.

'That was pointless.'

Compared with the pain inflicted by the many torture techniques already being used on Ryu, a kick hardly counted as pain at all. Stimulating him for no reason would only ease his suffering. Wang knew that perfectly well, yet he had lashed out. It was unlike him.

'I need to stay sharp.'

Wang Gi-neung steeled himself. If the Wang family of Shanghai was to escape the threat of losing its place among the distinguished clans, he had to handle this matter well, whatever it took. And what he had to do was clear.

'I have to make him talk and find out what he knows about the Liberation Brigade, no matter what.'

That was why he gave an order without hesitation to the intelligence chief waiting outside.

“Make the preparations.”

“... Are you sure?”

“We have no choice. Now that our family's torture techniques have failed, there's only one place that can make him talk.”

Of the Seven Dragons Society's thirty-six thousand five hundred torture techniques, only one hundred and eight had been passed down to the Wang family of Shanghai. The techniques were secret arts in their own right and so difficult to master that one or two people could never learn them all.

So the Seven Dragons Society had trained specialists, dividing the thirty-six thousand five hundred techniques among them. It had also established a place where they could torture prisoners on a clan's behalf when needed, or accept commissions from outsiders.

“That's what the Torture Hall is for, isn't it?”

“Yes, but...”

The intelligence chief trailed off. It wasn't just the enormous fee, or the possibility that they might have to share the credit. The problem was where the Torture Hall was located—or, more precisely, who was in charge there.

“Will Her Highness agree?”

“She will,” Wang Gi-neung said firmly.

Though Li Qingyu's position had stabilized somewhat of late, her authority had already been cut back as far as it could go. A personal matter might be different, but she could not—and would not—oppose using the Torture Hall on the culprit who had harmed the clan. Even someone as foolish as she was could see which choice benefited her.

And if she refused anyway?

“Then we'll simply make her agree.”

Whether by mobilizing the elders or using opinion within the clan, pressuring Li Qingyu would be easy. With that, Wang Gi-neung strode away.