Chapter 2 : No. 3789028376

Chapter 2: No. 3789028376

In Belteruk’s eyes, the severed thread of the soul could be seen protruding from outside the virtual reality server connection helmet, swaying back and forth. Normally, the soul’s main body would have been attached to that thread and come out with it, but this time was different.

That was because the soul of number 3789028376 was currently inside virtual reality, enjoying a game. This was precisely why Grim Reapers could know that souls were inside virtual reality without even needing to connect themselves.

Virtual reality games were quite a troublesome existence for grim reapers’ work. If someone died, they should promptly come out so they could be taken away…… but humans who died while connected like that rampaged about inside the server, still unaware that they were dead. In such cases, grim reapers had no choice but to wait until the soul they were to take to the Underworld logged off.

However, an eccentric grim reaper like Belteruk did not have much dissatisfaction with this. That was because what he had in abundance was time, and all of that time was connected to the horror called boredom. Virtual reality itself was a bit of a nuisance to Belteruk, but in some ways, he was rather grateful for it. After all, it allowed him to kill at least a tiny portion of the tedious and endlessly long time given to him.

Belteruk sheathed his grim reaper scythe once more. Then he slowly swept his gaze around the room. This was to look at what kind of human soul number 3789028376 had been while waiting for that soul to come out. He was not doing this because he had any particular interest in soul number 3789028376. It was simply something he had done out of habit for tens of millions of years. It held no meaning whatsoever.

The room clearly revealed the personality of the owner of soul number 3789028376.

There was hardly any furniture. A desk and a bookshelf placed on top of it. A few books slotted into the shelf, and a bed. Also, a small trash can placed beside it, and finally, the virtual reality game capsule in which the body of soul number 3789028376 lay. Everything was as clean as if it had just been bought, without a speck of dust on it.

Germophobia.

Soul number 3789028376 seemed to be a perfectionist who did not allow even the smallest speck of dust into his space. Belteruk had seen many such people, but cases this severe were rare.

‘Obsessive germophobia? Or else…….’

Belteruk’s penetrating eyes swept beyond the room to examine even the living room and the bathroom. Just like this room, it was difficult to find even a tiny speck of dust. However, this was not what Belteruk had been expecting.

Sniff, sniff.

What stimulated his senses was not his eyes, but his nose. He caught a familiar yet peculiar smell from somewhere. Extremely acrid, yet a unique scent that pleased the noses of grim reapers. It was the smell of blood and rotting corpses. It was so faint that even a grim reaper like him could hardly notice it. Only now, with his concentration focused, could he properly sense it. That was probably why he had not noticed it when he first entered the villa.

Belteruk’s nose flared. He was tracking the source of the smell. The odor was rising from below. He lowered his head downward.

His gaze passed through the fifth-floor floor, the fourth-floor floor, the third-floor floor, the second-floor floor, and the first-floor floor, yet he could not find the source of the smell. Belteruk’s pitch-black eyes turned white. It was a phenomenon that appeared when he pushed his penetrating eyes to their limit.

He saw that there was a secret space underground.

‘Hm!?’

There were no corpses there either. His vision moved further downward. Only after passing through three more such secret spaces was he finally able to find the source of the smell. He thought that this customer truly was a meticulous fellow.

“Kekeke.”

Belteruk muttered in a low voice. The reason was that the owner of soul number 3789028376 was a human who created work for grim reapers. He did not know what his profession was, but his ‘hobby’ seemed deeply connected to the work of grim reapers.

In a cavern hidden deep underground, dozens, perhaps hundreds of human corpses were enjoying a deep sleep inside an enormous freezer, making it hard to tell at a glance how many there were. Judging by the presence of fresh corpses that had not yet completely frozen, the owner of soul number 3789028376 had clearly enjoyed his hobby just a few days ago—perhaps even yesterday or today.

This planet called Earth in the 111th dimensional plane had always been a somewhat more cruel planet compared to other places. Recently, it had become a little more distant from grim reapers, but essence did not change easily. Before the discipline humans called science developed to this extent, scenes like this could easily be found anywhere on this planet. Of course, when war broke out, far worse things than this often happened.

So to Grim Reaper Belteruk, such things were nothing unusual. The reason he found it interesting lay in a completely different place.

Corpses carried the color of the killer’s soul and their killing intent. Even if the corpse was already an empty vessel devoid of a soul.

From the corpses in that underground freezer, purity could be felt. There was not a trace of killing intent to be found. How should that purity be described?

Pure murderous madness. Wouldn’t that be the right way to put it?

A soul with such sensibilities, now difficult to encounter in this 111th dimensional plane that emphasized things like human rights and civilization was precisely soul number 3789028376. They were not entirely nonexistent, but they were rare. It was because Belteruk had encountered such a soul after a long time that a smile had formed at the corner of his lips.

“A pure murderer starved for blood. In the language of this Earth, I believe they call it a psychopath.”

That was Belteruk’s evaluation of the 111th dimensional plane’s soul number 3789028376. At that level, wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come out of the Eight Hells again before being properly purified? Perhaps he might rot away in the Eight Hells for around ten million years. If he was unlucky, the soul might even be annihilated before those ten million years passed…….

Of course, it was none of his concern.

Having confirmed that much, Belteruk completely lost interest in soul number 3789028376. Whether 3789028376 was the worst murderer in the history of the universe or not had nothing to do with him. As a grim reaper, his job ended once he brought the soul to the Underworld. Whether Grim Reaper Yeomra turned that soul into a rag or annihilated it entirely was not within his jurisdiction.

It was just as Belteruk was about to scratch his eyes with his scythe again out of boredom.

The shrill sound of the grim reaper terminal rang out with a *beep-bee-beep*. It was a warning alarm. It meant that the time to collect the soul had arrived, so he should hurry up and do his job.

Belteruk thought little of it since he had already finished his work and was merely waiting, but just to be sure, he took out the Grim Reaper Register and opened it. As he had earlier, he yawned while checking the soul number of the target to be collected.

3789028376.

It matched.

“No problem.”

Just as he was feeling relieved.

“Hm!? What is this……?”

He discovered a problem! And a fatal one at that!

The dimensional plane number written beneath the soul number was not 111, but 112! This customer was not soul number 3789028376 of the 111th dimensional plane, but soul number 3789028376 of the 112th dimensional plane.

Something impossible had happened.

It was a simple mistake, but in the world of grim reapers, mistakes were often directly connected to annihilation. If this matter were to reach Grim Reaper Yeomra, it would be the end. If he was unlucky, the one who would suffer ten million years of torment in the Eight Hells mentioned earlier might not be that soul, but himself. Naturally, the ending in that case would, nine times out of ten, be annihilation.

Belteruk’s mind spun rapidly. He had carried out grim reaper duties for tens of millions of years. Not once had he ever made a mistake. Having been overly confident in that, today’s incident had finally exploded in his face.

‘I can’t lose everything I’ve endured for tens of millions of years and now because of this single error…! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it……! Ah!’

At some point, as he repeated the word *damn it* countless times in his mind.

‘That incident’ which had shaken the Underworld hundreds of millions of years ago came to mind.

‘Soul grafting.’

A grotesque incident committed by a deranged grim reaper who tried to create soul Siamese twins artificially.

That grim reaper had experimented to see whether it was possible to put two souls into a single body. The method was very simple: take a severed soul thread, attach it to the thread of another living soul, and solder them together. This was an unforgivable crime that blatantly violated grim reaper service regulations.

A grim reaper’s actions were each and every one connected to the order of the dimensional planes. And since he had done such a thing to a soul that was supposed to be alive, his ending was obvious. In the end, that grim reaper was discovered and annihilated.

Whether the experiment had succeeded or failed, or what kind of events had occurred in the dimensional planes as a result of that incident, was never revealed. Grim Reaper Yeomra had imposed a gag order on all those involved.

One thing, however.

Among grim reapers themselves, the opinion that it *might* be possible generally carried more weight. After all, there were grim reapers who would bring up this story whenever they were bored.

Indeed.

‘Is it possible?’

What would happen if he tried it right now?

In his sight, the soul thread dangling outside the virtual reality capsule swayed limply. There was still time. Number 3789028376 had not logged out yet.

If that soul were to log out in this situation?

Belteruk would be annihilated. But if he attempted soul grafting, there might be a chance to cover up his mistake. If he grafted the 111th dimensional plane’s soul number 3789028376 onto the body of the 112th dimensional plane’s soul number 3789028376—who was originally supposed to die—and then severed only the thread of the 112th dimensional plane’s soul and guided it to the Underworld, then all dimensional planes would proceed exactly as originally planned! If it worked out like this, no one would ever know about his mistake!

Although a soul from the 111th dimensional plane would end up going to the 112th dimensional plane, the total amount of souls in the Underworld would still be preserved. That alone was enough for Belteruk to feel reassured.

It did not take long for him to make his decision. Belteruk grabbed hold of the very end of the thread of the 111th dimensional plane’s soul number 3789028376. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he took out his grim reaper terminal.

Beep-bee-beep-.

The grim reaper number 112 appeared on the terminal. With a light vibration, Belteruk disappeared from the spot.

It was the moment when soul grafting was realized for the first time in hundreds of millions of years.