Chapter 58

“Dual Amplification—Black Missile.”

A system prompt echoed in his mind:

《Skill [Black Missile] is enhanced with [Dual Amplification]. All effects are doubled for this cast.》

Justin raised his hand again.

“Black Missile.”

Crack!

The projectile tore through the air like a bullet.

“You idiot, I told you it doesn’t—”

Thud.

A sickening sound cut him off.

There was no metallic clang of impact against a shield this time. Only the wet sound of flesh ripping apart.

The world seemed to freeze.

Lucas’s victorious grin remained plastered across his face—until the realization hit him.

A gaping hole had been torn through both his shield and his chest.

One heartbeat later, his lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

“…What?”

The surviving pioneers stared in horror as their leader’s body collapsed, the crimson mist around him dissipating into nothingness.

“Dual Amplification—Black Missile.”

Boom!

Another projectile exploded through the chest of a nearby pioneer before he could react.

Only then did the survivors understand.

Their shields meant nothing.

Their numbers meant nothing.

“S-shit!”

The once-confident pioneers, now leaderless and terrified, turned and ran.

“Catch them! Leave none alive!” Justin ordered, his voice cold and merciless.

The fleeing pioneers didn’t stand a chance.

The cleanup was swift.

Fighting retreating enemies was easy; they were little more than panicked prey.

Especially when most of them didn’t even have the sense to block.

“Huff… Huff…”

Derek collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat. His muscles screamed from the effort of chasing down fleeing enemies.

“Why the hell… was I the only one running?”

“Maybe because you don’t have any ranged attacks?” Justin replied with a smirk.

“Still… I’m a knight, damn it… Huff…!”

“You’re also our tank. Overexerting yourself won’t help anyone.”

Despite his exhaustion, Derek’s frustration quickly faded under the weight of his fatigue.

Nearby, Ethan and Nathan weren’t looking any better. Both had pale faces and trembling hands.

“You two holding up?” Justin asked.

“Y-yeah,” Nathan stammered. “It’s just… hard. Fighting other people is different from monsters.”

“It’s normal to feel that way after your first real battle.”

Ethan, however, shook his head.

“It’s not guilt—it’s just… strange. We knew they were scum. Killing them shouldn’t feel wrong.”

“But it still does.”

“No. It’s just unfamiliar. Like the first time you kill a chicken; it’s messy and unpleasant, but you get used to it.”

“That’s a healthy mindset.”

Nathan swallowed hard and forced a shaky smile.

“I’m fine too… just need some time to adjust. That’s all.”

“Good. You’ll need to toughen up fast in this world.”

They’d held up better than Justin had expected.

If they could endure this, they’d be fine in future battles.

“Get some rest,” Justin ordered. “We’ve got a new safe zone to claim.”

With Lucas dead and his forces scattered, it was time to rebuild—this time, on their own terms.

“Phew! Not going to ask me if I feel guilty, boss?”

“Why? Do you?”
“Nah. Those bastards deserved it.”
“Thought so.”

The wicked recognize wickedness best.

There was no way someone like Derek would feel guilty over eliminating people who tried to kill him just moments ago. If anything, it would’ve been surprising if he didn’t feel like tracking down the stragglers and finishing the job himself.

But then, his expression shifted as a question came to mind.

“But what about you, brother? No guilt at all?”

“None.”
“Why not?”
“Because they were bastards too.”

Derek went silent at the reflection of his own logic. The matter needed no further discussion.

Justin left him behind and made his way to where Rachel and her group lay sprawled out—still unconscious from the earlier shock of the battle.

With everything settled, all that was left was to wait for them to wake up.

An Hour Later

“That was… ruthlessly efficient.”

Rachel looked up at Justin, her eyes narrowed into a pout.

He couldn’t help but suppress a grin, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Swift judgment is my deadliest weapon. But more importantly, I never betray my allies. That’s my real code of honor.”

“…Seriously?”

“What’s wrong? You’re not still upset about that little shock therapy, are you?”

Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back frustration.

“You could’ve at least pretended to look sad before frying us along with them! Why the hell were you smiling like it was the best day of your life?!”

“Hey, you told me not to hold back. Besides, that smug bastard deserved every second of it.”

“Yeah, but maybe… I don’t know… a tearful apology before zapping us?! Something dramatic?!”

“Results are all that matter.”

Her shoulders slumped, defeated by the unassailable logic. After all, no one in her team had died, and the enemy was wiped out completely.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s go see the state of the village. With their leader dead, who knows what’s happening back there.”

Justin nodded.

He was curious too.

In World Breaker, if a leader died—whether inside or outside their own land—their territory would automatically transfer ownership. But this world had proven unpredictable, and there was no guarantee the same rule applied here.

“There’s no telling how this system handles things,” he muttered under his breath.

Rachel’s group, though still recovering from their injuries, led them toward their village.

“Huh. Looks about the same as ours.”
“Yeah, just bigger. And a lot grimmer.”

The buildings were identical in structure to their own settlement, but the atmosphere was heavier—like a shroud of dread hung in the air.

“Who’s that…?”
“Shh!”
“Mmph!”

The villagers flinched at the sight of the newcomers, dragging anyone who dared speak back into the shadows. Fear painted every face as they avoided direct eye contact.

A few even began to silently weep.

“What the hell is wrong with them?” Derek asked, voice low with confusion.
“They’re terrified,” Rachel explained grimly. “Just seeing pioneers like us makes them expect the worst.”

“They don’t even know who we are yet.”
“They don’t need to. Just being a pioneer is enough. Anyone who even whispered in front of a pioneer here would get beaten—sometimes killed.”

“I get it now,” Justin muttered.

No wonder Rachel had dreaded returning here.

This wasn’t just fear; it was ingrained trauma. The villagers had been trained—through relentless abuse—to expect violence at the slightest provocation.

“Welcome, pioneers—or should I call you conquerors?”

A familiar voice broke the tension.

“Aaron?”