Otherworld Destruction Gallery

Certified post) Here’s a picture of bottled water for proof…jpg

Got a new bed, how is it?.jpg

Seriously, you can’t tell day from night here.jpg

“What is the meaning of all this?”

Frederick frowned as he looked at the posts Duke Isaac had brought.

Aren’t these just nonsensical posts by the Head Moderator?

And to top it off, he even adds .jpg to draw attention.

However, Isaac remained calm.

When he gestured behind him, one of the assassins brought forward a trembling man.

“Who is this man?”

“He’s the merchant leader of the Glein Trade Company.”

“Ah, I know of him. Wasn’t his trade company the one that used to supply food to the Kingdom of Kelton?”

The trade company had once represented the Kingdom of Kelton in diplomatic exchanges.

Of course, that was a long time ago.

The Kingdom of Kelton no longer exists.

“Look at the photos in these posts.”

Title: Got a new bed, how is it?.jpg

Author: Head Moderator☆

(A picture bragging about a bartered bed)

Haha, the stone floor was killing my back, but this is great.

Can’t go outside anyway, so I should at least make lying around comfortable, right?

What the heck is that pink thing, lol
ㄴ It even has a canopy, haha

ㄴ Are we admitting the Head Moderator is a cute half-elf girl?

Why is it so dark there?
ㄴ It’s darker than my backyard storage.

ㄴ Head Moderator, get some sunlight and live a little!

ㄴ Head Moderator☆) Can’t do that. Too many people spying outside, nope nope;

“Behind him, you can see crates of food supplies stacked up. All bearing the emblem of the Glein Trade Company.”

“And?”

“Judging by the stone floors and the mention of not knowing day from night, we can assume it’s an underground warehouse.”

“Hmm.”

Frederick stroked his chin.

“So, this is likely in the Kingdom of Kelton?”

“The Glein Trade Company was created solely for trade relations with the Kingdom of Kelton. And our Empire rarely uses underground warehouses.”

At that point, Duke Isaac spread out a map.

The map, centered on the capital of the Kingdom of Kelton, showed numerous circles.

“This is a map marking the locations of all underground warehouses.”

Most of the circles were marked with an X, leaving only a few unmarked locations.

“So, in conclusion!”

“…Correct.”

A deep smile spread across Duke Isaac’s face.

“I will kill the Head Moderator.”

The Adrian Empire now had the perfect opportunity to eliminate the Head Moderator, their greatest obstacle.

“Oh?”

Scritch, scratch.

There’s not much to do in a warehouse.

Eventually, you end up finding interest in all sorts of random things, one of which was the pet lava crack.

Clang, clang.

I opened my eyes and turned my head toward the source of the noise, hearing a faint sound near the entrance.

As I crept closer with light steps like a cat, I realized what the sound was.

“Isn’t this the sound of someone picking a lock?”

It was the sound of someone trying to unlock the warehouse door.

The noise continued as they repeatedly tried to open and close it, blocked by the materials I had piled up like a mountain in front of it.

The Empire’s top assassins.

They were skilled individuals, known for never failing once they set a target.

Currently, they were carrying out their mission to find the Head Moderator and were attempting to unlock yet another warehouse.

Clang.

“Something’s caught.”

“It’s here. They’re inside.”

Although they unlocked the door, it wouldn’t open.

Something was blocking it from the inside.

The assassins gathered slowly near the entrance, holding magic in one hand and daggers in the other.

“I didn’t order any deliveries!”

A loud voice rang out from inside.

It was a voice they didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t certain if it was the Head Moderator, but it didn’t matter.

“After killing them, we can simply observe whether the Head Moderator’s activities stop.”

This was how they had already killed over a dozen innocent people.

They felt no guilt.

As they began dissolving the wooden door with corrosive magic—

“Stop! I can shoot!”

A voice from inside shouted the Gallery-exclusive magic phrase: “Stop.”

The assassins froze momentarily at the command, but it didn’t stop them from melting the door.

Finally, they spotted someone inside.

“Found you.”

A sinister grin spread across their faces.

The person inside moved awkwardly, with clumsy reactions.

Killing a hesitant target was the easiest task for them.

The assassins smirked and began stepping inside.

Bang!

Sparks burst out from the darkness.

“Guh!”

The lead assassin fell to the ground instantly.

“L-leader?”

“He’s dead?”

The most skilled captain of the team had died in the blink of an eye.

The others swallowed hard as they saw him sprawled on the stairs, bleeding profusely.

“So, this is why they’re called the Head Moderator.”

“Cast magic resistance and move forward.”

The deputy, now acting as the leader, ordered the group. They cloaked themselves in magical barriers and stepped forward again.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a strange metallic object came flying toward them.

“That’s the weapon!”

The assassins immediately recognized what it was.

A strange magical explosive attack capable of penetrating even the Bone Dragon’s magical defenses.

One of the assassins instantly slashed the incoming grenade with a dagger in midair.

It was a speed befitting the elite assassins!

Boom!

Of course, the grenade exploded just as quickly.

“Argh!”

“What the hell! This isn’t that weapon!”

This time, however, it wasn’t a high-explosive grenade.

It was a fragmentation grenade.

One of the worst modern weapons, scattering embedded metal shards at every target in the vicinity.

“Ugh…”

“You monster! What kind of freak are you?”

Even when fighting high-ranking mages, they had never felt such a sense of crisis.

What on earth were these attacks?

There was no longer any room for probing.

Leaving their bloodied comrades behind, a few surviving assassins began leaping over the debris.

Click!

At that moment, a chilling sound rang out.

“Freeze, hands up, or I’ll shoot.”

From behind cover, the Head Moderator emerged, holding a grotesque, ominous black object.

It was none other than a K2 rifle, the pride and despair of South Korean soldiers.

“Hwaryang?”

“Shut up!”

The assassins didn’t know the password, so of course, it didn’t work.

Not that the Head Moderator intended to spare them in the first place.

He immediately braced the rifle against his shoulder and aimed at the assassins in rapid succession.

“I’m an expert marksman. Assassination? How troublesome.”

And just as he was about to turn the assassins into minced meat—

Click, click.

“Damn it.”

The weapon malfunctioned.

A bullet had jammed after the previous shot, rendering the rifle useless.

“Ugh, I should’ve just used the shotgun!!!”

Why had he chosen the K2 for familiarity’s sake?

Why had he forgotten that familiarity often came with the risk of malfunction?

The Head Moderator’s mind flashed with regret like a running slideshow.

At that moment, he remembered the Magic Rabbit Hole Ticket he had set aside.

An assassin growled in a venomous tone.

“Don’t you dare think you can escape by luck!”

“Thank you!”

The Head Moderator narrowly dodged the assassin’s dagger and fled into a corner.

The scattered obstacles slowed the assassins down, preventing them from giving immediate chase.

In that brief window, the Head Moderator managed to retrieve the Magic Rabbit Hole Ticket hidden in the corner.

“So, I just rip this, right?”

It was the ultimate escape button, saved for the most desperate of situations.

Using it would send him to the Rabbit Beastfolk Village, far from the assassins’ reach.

Whether he could escape from there was uncertain, but it was better than dying here and now.

“Die!”

As the assassins closed in, mere moments away,

The Head Moderator clutched the ticket with both hands!

“But escaping to the Rabbit Beastfolk Village is a bit much.”

And he hurled himself into the rift.