The carriage doesn't collapse.
Not yet.
But it's close.
Metal groans under pressure, bending inward in several places at once. The sound alone is enough to keep everyone on edge—low, grinding, like something massive dragging its weight across the roof.
No one is calm anymore.
Not after what they just saw.
The corpse on the floor hasn't disappeared. Black fluid still spreads slowly, thick and unnatural, catching the flickering light. It pools in uneven shapes, seeping into the grooves of the floor like it belongs there.
But the real focus isn't the body.
It's what came after.
"…fifty-five thousand EXP," someone whispers.
The words spread faster than panic did.
"And coins… one hundred and fifty thousand…"
"That's insane."
Voices overlap again, but now there's something new in them. Not just fear.
Calculation.
Saigid watches in silence.
The system didn't just appear.
It rewarded.
That changes everything.
A man steps forward cautiously, gripping a broken piece of metal like a weapon. His hands are shaking, but he doesn't stop. His eyes flick between the corpse and the floating notifications, like he's trying to force himself to believe it.
"…if it works like that…"
He doesn't finish the sentence.
He doesn't need to.
The body twitches.
Still not fully dead.
A wet, uneven movement. Something inside shifts.
The man flinches, almost backing away—
then forces himself forward and strikes.
A weak hit.
Clumsy.
But it connects.
The system reacts instantly.
[Damage Dealt]
[+120 EXP]
The man freezes.
His breathing quickens.
"…I got something."
He stares at nothing, clearly reading something only he can see.
"I actually got something."
A few people move closer.
"Let me try—"
"No, wait—"
Another hit lands.
Another small notification.
More people step in.
Fear doesn't disappear.
It shifts.
Into something else.
Saigid exhales slowly.
So that's how it spreads.
Not courage.
Not cooperation.
Greed.
His gaze shifts slightly—to Yushai.
No reaction.
No interest in the numbers, or the people crowding the corpse.
Like the outcome was obvious from the start.
"…you're not even looking," Saigid says quietly.
Yushai doesn't answer.
He's watching something else.
Not the body.
Not the people.
Above.
Saigid follows his gaze.
The ceiling.
It's worse now.
Multiple dents. Multiple points of pressure. The metal bows inward with each slow, deliberate impact.
Whatever is up there—
there's more than one.
Behind them, a voice rises sharply:
"Move! I said move!"
Someone gets shoved aside.
Another person lunges forward, striking the remains harder this time, desperate now, frantic. The sound of impact mixes with the wet, tearing noise of something that should already be dead.
The system responds again.
Small numbers.
Nothing compared to before.
And yet—
no one stops.
"They're fighting over it…" Saigid mutters.
Predictable.
If strength comes from killing—
then everyone will try.
No matter how weak they are.
Another crack echoes above them.
Louder this time.
Closer.
A thin line splits across the ceiling, stretching under pressure. Dust sifts down in fine particles, catching in the air like ash.
Something sharp presses against it from the other side.
Once.
Twice.
The metal screams.
Then gives.
A jagged tip breaks through.
Then another.
And another.
Saigid's expression hardens.
"…yeah. That's not going to hold."
Around them, people are still focused on the corpse, arguing, pushing, trying to squeeze out whatever little reward they can get.
They're not looking up.
They don't see it yet.
Yushai steps forward.
Not rushed.
Not tense.
Just certain.
"We're leaving," he says.
Simple.
Like there's no other option.
Saigid doesn't argue.
He's already moving.
Behind them—
the ceiling tears open.
Not all at once.
It rips.
Metal peels back with a violent shriek, and something forces its way through, dragging fragments down with it as the carriage finally gives in to the pressure it was never meant to withstand.