Although a Villain, My Wish is World Peace

While I may not know where people originate from, I do recognize their absence. With the children’s departure, our base felt strangely empty.

“I had just started growing attached to them.”

“You can’t keep them clinging to you forever, though.”

“I know, I know. But I still feel rather wistful about it.”

“Those kids will be just fine.”

At my words, Han Seo-hyeon asked:

“Who exactly did you entrust the children to, anyway?”

“Dominic Zane.”

“Who is that person?”

A name that would become renowned worldwide in the future, but still an unfamiliar one at present.

“Someone who will be hailed as the ‘Savior of New Zealand’ in time to come. A genuinely good person deserving of such an honorific.”

Dominic is an awakener possessing the ‘Welcome’ talent. Even after awakening, he continued living a humble life on a hill amidst the plains – something possible due to New Zealand’s lack of compulsory awakener registration laws, unlike our country.

His emergence occurred when an S-rank Gate opened in New Zealand.

At Eden Hill, known as the ‘Garden of Eden,’ when that S-rank Gate triggered a Breakthrough event, the White Savior suddenly appeared – Dominic personally handling all the monsters that emerged.

From that day forth, he became renowned as New Zealand’s savior.

Yet rather than revel in that fame, he reportedly requested to be allowed to continue his tranquil lifestyle undisturbed.

In any case, he was an exemplary individual worth emulating in numerous aspects.

“Are you sure it’s wise to entrust complete strangers with such confidence?”

“Yes.”

I stated with certainty that Dominic Zane was a trustworthy person.

—Did you happen to encounter that person in the future or something?

‘No, I’ve never actually met Dominic myself.’

—Then how can you be so convinced based solely on his reputation?

While I had never met Dominic directly, Seol Rok-jin had. And he had utterly despised the man.

The individuals Seol Rok-jin loathed tended to be decent people, more often than not.

—That was your sole reasoning?

‘That reasoning alone is remarkably accurate for assessing someone’s character, you know? Dominic was an individual capable of provoking Seol Rok-jin to declare, ‘I’ll have to dispose of that man someday!’ He’s a 100% saint! No, a 200% saint!’

—I see, never mind your peculiar criteria then. But are you truly certain he’s trustworthy?

‘While I haven’t met him face-to-face, he is indeed a good person. Moreover, the location where he currently resides is renowned for its breathtaking natural scenery.’

He lived on Eden Hill itself – a place befitting the ‘Garden of Eden’ moniker, undoubtedly exquisite.

—Going from an accursed dwelling to the Garden of Eden. Quite literally, a transition from hell to heaven.

‘Our base isn’t that bad, either.’

Ahem, I surveyed our headquarters. Admittedly, in stark contrast to my words, our base was an utter mess. Having recently stayed in decent accommodations, its dilapidated state seemed overly rundown.

“Should we use some of our recent earnings to renovate this place?”

Perhaps due to the children’s vacant spaces, the common area appeared especially barren. We had only constructed the base framework with minimal functional furnishings, leaving it feeling utterly empty.

“We should get some putty to properly refinish the walls, apply new wallpaper, and replace the flooring with hardwood too.”

As I spoke, Han Seo-hyeon cautiously remarked:

“But shouldn’t we preserve that wall at least?”

The wall Han Seo-hyeon pointed towards in the common area was adorned with childish scribbles.

Lopsided doodles depicting me, Han Seo-hyeon, Kim Jae-ho, and the ten children. While the artistic quality was hardly praiseworthy, seeing their earnest efforts to imbue personality into the drawings still elicited an involuntary smile.

“When did they even draw these?”

Gazing at the mural, I inquired to Ray:

‘Do you know any preservation spells?’

—What for?

‘Just answer – do you know any or not?’

—I do.

We should preserve this artwork. For about ten years? No, maybe a hundred?

—Are you intending to turn this into some historical site?

* * *

After bidding farewell to the children, we returned to our ordinary daily routines – sleeping, eating, sparring, and training.

Occasionally, we would take breaks, like the present moment.

“Do you really think that girl will come seeking the Boss for vengeance?”

At Han Seo-hyeon’s question, I narrowed my eyes warily – an instinctive response anticipating another lecture incoming. Discerning my expression, Han Seo-hyeon sighed before explaining:

“I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, I did inform her of my name so she could find me.”

“Huh, you even told her your name?”

Scratching my head, I clarified:

“Not my real name. I told her to seek Shen of Weltschmerz.”

“Shen?”

“It’s ‘Sin’ derived from my own name, but in Chinese. Thus ‘Shen’.”

“Shen? It’s not the ‘Shen’ I’m thinking of, is it?”

“Correct. My name itself means to please the gods.” (tl/n: sin – god, Yi-sin –  to please the gods.)

My parents, whose identities I struggle to recall, must have loved me dearly to bestow the name Yi-sin upon me.

“Though my nickname ended up being rather irreverent in comparison.”

“Irreverent?”

“Because it’s Kang Yi-sin.” (tl/n: while the MC’s given name Yi-sin has a positive meaning, his full name ‘Kang Yi-sin’ sounds similar to the Korean word ‘gansin’ which means treacherous minister/traitorous official. A play of words.)

“Pffahaha!”

Han Seo-hyeon fell over laughing at my nickname, but I couldn’t find it nearly as amusing. It had been a derisive moniker used to torment me during my time beside Seol Rok-jin.

“I’d rather you two not inherit that particular insult as well. Hence, I instructed Xiaozhu to seek the ‘God of Weltschmerz’ instead.”

The Chinese pronunciation of ‘sin’ being ‘shen,’ that’s why it’s Shen of Weltschmerz.

“That does sound rather plausible.”

While I had merely revealed one syllable from my name, Han Seo-hyeon was correct – it did possess a certain gravitas. Perhaps I should adopt it as my operational alias moving forward.

“The God of the Melancholic World. An incredibly arrogant title, but oh well.” (tl/n: a small explanation from c42 – ‘Weltschmerz’ – pessimistic/melancholic, world-weary worldview.)

Contemplating this, I stroked my chin. It did have a nice ring to it.

“You should also consider an operational alias for yourself.”

“So suddenly?”

“Not suddenly at all. Remember how awkward your introduction was last time? When asked who you were, you responded with ‘Weltschmerz… uhh, Weltschmerz.'”

Recalling that embarrassing moment, I explained further to Han Seo-hyeon’s exaggerated eye-roll.

“It’s fine to use my real name, I suppose.”

I immediately shook my head at Han Seo-hyeon’s assertion.

“Even so, using your real name is inadvisable.”

Weltschmerz and Han Seo-hyeon must not become associated. While his family had already perished, other acquaintances tied to the name ‘Han Seo-hyeon’ could still potentially face danger.

“Even close friends could become potential targets.”

“I don’t have any friends.”

“What about former neighbors, then?”

“No neighbors either.”

I regarded Han Seo-hyeon with a somber expression.

“What’s with that pitying look? Do you have any friends, Boss?”

I do. Perceiving my expression, Han Seo-hyeon exclaimed in a tone laced with resignation:

“How many?”

“The number isn’t important – it’s the depth that matters!”

In that sense, Jeong Ho-san and I could be considered truly, profoundly close.

Mocking my words, Han Seo-hyeon remarked:

“Based on your phrasing, I’m guessing two at most? No, just one?”

“Ugh!”

Yes, my only friend was indeed Jeong Ho-san. To the extent where I could rightfully call him a friend at this point.

As for Kim Jae-ho, there was no need to even ask.

“He probably doesn’t have any friends either.”

“No, I do.”

At Kim Jae-ho’s assertion, Han Seo-hyeon and I stared at him wide-eyed. How could someone like him possibly have friends?

“…But they’re dead.”

His words cast a somber pall over the atmosphere. Elbowing me, Han Seo-hyeon muttered:

“Way to kill the mood! You really put your foot in your mouth there!”

Was this truly my fault? A surge of indignation rose within me, but I still apologized to Kim Jae-ho.

“Sorry.”

Silence lingered. Surveying us both, Han Seo-hyeon mumbled under his breath:

“Come to think of it, the three of us combined only have a single friend between us. We’re really blessed with abundant social connections.”

“We have plenty of acquaintances, at least.”

Not a lie – we genuinely did, especially with the recent children’s temporary residence.

“…That just makes me feel even more pathetic.”

We weren’t the ones being ostracized from society. We were the ones ostracizing the world itself.

Anyway, back to the topic of aliases. We returned to the main point.

“Well, I’m a necromancer. So, something like death? Weltschmerz was in German, right?”

Han Seo-hyeon, who had been searching on his phone for a moment, said:

“I’ll go with Tod.” (tl/n: ‘death’ from German.)

“Since you’re a necromancer, that’s not bad, but should you decide on it so casually?”

“Says the boss who derived his name from one character of his own name.”

When he put it that way, I had nothing to say. Shifting my gaze towards Kim Jae-ho, I inquired:

“Jae-ho, do you have any preferred alias in mind?”

“It doesn’t seem like Jae-ho hyung has given it much thought.”

“I want to keep using this name. I don’t like any other names.”

“Hmm. But having just ‘Kim Jae-ho’ under code names like Tod and Shen would look rather odd, wouldn’t it?”

I shrugged at Han Seo-hyeon’s remark.

“Let’s just keep Jae-ho as a secret, then. He likely won’t need an alias.”

After all, Jae-ho would primarily operate from the shadows moving forward.

Once we had settled on our names, we rose from our seats.

“Back to training.”

“Ugh.”

Han Seo-hyeon’s expression soured, but there was no helping it.

“Today’s training safeguards tomorrow’s survival. Can you not even lift that heavy rump of yours?”

* * *

For several days, Do Chae-hee had been wandering around with a haggard expression. Unable to overlook her disheveled appearance any longer, Park Cheol-wan called her aside to inquire:

“Why do you look so rough?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been staying up nights poring over those files again, haven’t you?”

Do Chae-hee offered an awkward smile, confirming Park Cheol-wan’s suspicions – she could never deceive him.

“If I don’t look into it, no one else will pay any attention to that case.”

The investigation into the so-called ‘Orphanage Murders and Disappearances’ presumed to have been perpetrated by Weltschmerz had reached a dead end.

Despite clear evidence of missing children, their superiors were eager to sweep the entire incident under the rug.

The reasoning given was that revealing the inhumane crimes committed – child abductions, human experimentation, forced awakenings, and genetic modifications – would incite societal chaos.

Unsurprisingly, Do Chae-hee had also faced pressure to cease investigating this case.

But she couldn’t bring herself to abandon it.

“Children went missing, didn’t they?”

This case involved ten definitive child victims. Uncovering their whereabouts, rescuing those children – that was Do Chae-hee’s sole driving purpose.

However, the organization suspected of abducting them, Weltschmerz, had vanished without a trace.

Just like during the Auction incident.

“I don’t understand why everyone refuses to take Weltschmerz seriously.”

Although Do Chae-hee had vociferously warned about the dangers posed by Weltschmerz, no one in the Awakener Crimes Department seemed particularly concerned.

The justification, of course, being the lack of ‘civilian casualties’ resulting from their activities.

At the Auction, not a single person had died. And the researchers killed during the Orphanage incident could hardly be classified as ‘civilians’ – they were utterly despicable individuals.

Children had gone missing, but… in any case, they hadn’t ‘died,’ technically speaking.

Clicking his tongue at Do Chae-hee’s vehement protests, Park Cheol-wan retorted:

“We want to apprehend those bastards too, but there are far worse criminals to prioritize first. Like the ones who wiped out our entire strike team during the A-rank Gate incident in Samyang. Not to mention the Gas Station Murders case, remember? On top of that, we lack any substantial evidence to pursue Weltschmerz directly, so it’s better to focus our efforts elsewhere for now.”

Park Cheol-wan countered Do Chae-hee’s arguments with facts.

“Unless we uncover more evidence! Or new witnesses emerge. We couldn’t even extract meaningful information from those other kids found at the orphanage, could we?”

His words caused Do Chae-hee’s shoulders to tremble. Perceiving her reaction, Park Cheol-wan asked:

“Do you know something, after all?”

“No, nothing.”

Do Chae-hee had refrained from sharing the information she had previously obtained with anyone.

That Han Seo-hyeon might be affiliated with those individuals – no, not ‘might be,’ but was undoubtedly collaborating with them, based on the credible intelligence.

Why would Han Seo-hyeon have joined forces with them? No matter how she racked her brain without concrete data, accurate deductions remained elusive, as Park Cheol-wan had implied.

The only certainty was that he didn’t seem to be acting under duress.

Which only compounded her unease further.

“In any case, take care of yourself while working on this.”

Do Chae-hee offered a halfhearted nod at Park Cheol-wan’s words.

Though she had agreed, she knew she couldn’t abandon her investigation into Weltschmerz.