Chapter 35: Cyber Psycho (4)

There’s a saying about putting out the fire closest at hand first. It started as an idiom, but in this situation, it rang literally true.

Roar…

The flames that started at the bar counter had spread across the entire lounge.

At this rate, the Stiletto Club would burn to the ground in no time.

“Put out—the—fire…!”

On the first floor, gang members scurried around like mad, hunting for fire extinguishers.

But.

“Kyaack—!”

“Fire! Fire!!”

“Ah, fuck—.”

The crowd was too thick to even find footing. The grunts stuck in place radioed frantically to the upper floors.

After several tries, reinforcements from the second-floor crew finally managed to deploy.

The gangsters slid down the spiral staircase, each clutching an extinguisher.

Early suppression was out of the question by now. Their goal was simply to minimize financial damage.

And the moment they bolted out…

Thud thud thud!

Lee Taebaek reached the upper level right on cue.

“Outta the way!”

Lee Taebaek obliged.

“Go on through.”

He shifted his shoulders just an inch, clearing a path for the frantic gangsters.

“By the way, what the hell are you doing here?!”

“Baron Mallo summoned me.”

“Don’t recognize the face. You his new boy toy?”

“Eh, something like that…”

“Got it. Diaper on tight?”

Even in this time crunch, he shot a pitying glance.

“Anyway, good luck. Don’t report to the baron yet. We’ll handle the cleanup ourselves first, then give the separate debrief.”

The gangster clapped his shoulder and rushed past in a gust of wind. They had no clue the culprit behind this mess was right beside them.

Why had they just passed by?

Lee Taebaek had struck where they weren’t looking. Specifically, he’d exploited a gap in communications.

The staircase was spiral, creating blind spots when ascending. He’d used that to flip his top jacket inside out.

Sure enough, it had changed from white outer fabric to black lining. Fooled by the radio chatter about a “white-clothed perp,” they’d overlooked him entirely.

Color-based optical illusion.

He’d ditched the mask too. From here on, anyone he ran into was getting killed on sight. No need to hide his face.

That wasn’t his only play. He’d taken out the bartender with the Python revolver—deliberately flashy.

Stealth would’ve been a quiet knife slice; arson, a quick lighter flick.

Yet Lee Taebaek had gone loud. Seemed overkill at a glance.

But it kept the Para Blade out of their sightlines nicely.

Mapping terrain, enemy movements, countermeasures—all in real time.

Gamer brain firing on all cylinders. Worth trading his college entrance exam scores for this.

Surveillance neutralized.

Meanwhile, below, the gangsters were hard at work dousing the blaze. Extinguisher powder billowed up to the ceiling.

Lights pierced the hazy dust, illuminating them faintly. They were bloodshot for the perp.

“White clothes! Grab anyone in white!”

“Check the bartender’s corpse for witnesses, cross-reference with anyone packing heat!!”

Lee Taebaek dashed down the empty hallway. He turned at the third corner.

“…?!”

Another corridor stretched out.

But narrow as hell. Shoulders nearly scraped the walls with every move. Doors lined both sides, numbered sequentially.

“Suspicious as fuck at first glance.”

It was eerily quiet here, cut off from the chaos below—like a different world.

No one poking around amid all that racket means…

No comms in or out. Dead zone both ways.

“Room 1, 2, 3…”

Lee Taebaek counted doors with his eyes as he advanced. He stopped about ten paces in.

Room 8.

Low chance the bodyguard set a trap.

He hadn’t nerfed blindly.

Mentally broken the bodyguard first, then [nerfed] his mind. He’d have spilled everything.

Plus.

The elixir’s energy was just kicking in back then. The guy was doomed anyway.

“Authority has cooldowns anyway.”

Cautious kill.

Anyway.

All intel pointed to Room 8 being trap-free.

“Hoo.”

Lee Taebaek took a short, deep breath.

Then quietly drew the blade from the Para Blade’s hilt at his tailbone.

His free hand reached for the doorknob. Heart squeezed tight.

Click click.

The handle jiggled. Someone inside trying to come out.

Shit, that’ll complicate things.

Decision instant; action immediate. He seized the initiative.

Lee Taebaek stomped—loading his weight onto his upper body.

Bam—!

He slammed his shoulder into the door. It flew wide. Momentum carried him crashing inside.

Thud!

The guy grabbing the knob from inside sprawled flat, face like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wh-what… the…?”

The uninvited guest left the grunts blinking like goldfish.

Cognitive dissonance. Booze hadn’t worn off, and it showed how fried their nerves were.

Two seconds till they snap to.

Secure sightlines first.

Lee Taebaek’s sharp gaze swept the room in a flash.

Long sofas lined the walls; ivory tables hugged the edges. Pricey liquor and tropical fruits cluttered everywhere.

Roll roll.

A mic tumbled into his shoe—dropped by a gangster mid-table-dancing show.

Beyond him, four more thugs crammed onto a reverse-C-shaped sofa.

All five shirtless, tattoos flexing on burly frames.

Same tastes, same vibe. What the fuck.

The Sesame Leaf Hair guy in the center stood out. Prime seat, no doubt.

Forehead tattooed blank; jaw a full cybernetic gold plate. Stark contrast. Classic tough look for a Monterey Three Executives heavyweight.

Takes guts to party with a face like that.

Angh—♥?!

Weird noise flicked his eyes sideways.

Wall display by the door blasting hardcore footage.

Not kidding—straight-up X-rated. Moans inevitable.

“Who the fuck… are you…?”

Sesame Leaf Hair tilted his head sloooowly. Haze cleared from his corneas; awareness dawned.

“Just checking—are you Baron Mallo?”

“Kukuku, yeah. That’s me, Baron Mallo.”

The baron sneered.

“…Looks X-rated as per the concept art.”

Lee Taebaek raised his blade.

Stab!

Plunged it into a slouched grunt’s carotid. Blood fountained from the neck, splattering the wall screen.

“Guhhh…”

The grunt’s arm twitched pitifully, but his pupils dilated wide.

“That fucker—get him!”

Baron Mallo jabbed a finger, yelling. Coming from him, it hit different.

The stunned grunts lunged for table weapons.

Three snatched bottles, using the table as a springboard.

Fruits squished underfoot; juice-slick bottles tumbled.

“You know where this is—?!”

“We’ll make you wish you weren’t a man!”

Quick reactions. Underworld vets; not their first ambush.

Trained for this.

But.

Cognitive dissonance.

Thoughts full of holes like Tom and Jerry cheese. Movements sluggish.

Drunk off their asses too. One-vs-many? Winnable.

Block the gang-up.

“Never start a rigged game.”

Lee Taebaek murmured, leaping like lightning. Blinked to the table. Kicked the edge, sliding it frictionless.

Eh? Huh!

Grunts on the table wobbled with momentum.

Another kick—they toppled.

Crash!

Two slammed jaws on the table. The last flipped back, shadowing the baron.

“Get off!”

Baron shoved him aside—right into the oncoming table.

“Kragh!!”

Ribs cracked; solar plexus caved. Baron’s lunch spewed spectacularly.

Real brawl starts now.

Lee Taebaek blinked—

Flash!

His form turned jellyfish-translucent. Light raced his nerves from spine to origin.

Familiar rush. Hair standing, fingertips numb—like the electric chair.

Difference: limbs free.

Lee Taebaek reversed his grip.

Umbrella hook flipped up—perfect for pulling.

Shunk.

Hooked into one’s mouth, under the tongue. Yanked back.

Rip!

Cheeks tore apart. Purple tongue dangled where the jaw should’ve been. Undead vibes.

Swish.

Snagged his bottle, smashed the crown. Muffled scream hit the soundproofing. Eyes rolled back.

Finish firm.

Full-force swing. Glass shards flew.

The bottle pulverized the nerf-softened skull. One down.

[Limit Time: ●●●●●●●◐○]

1.5 seconds elapsed.

Faster than expected—no complacency.

Wind on his cheek. Glass shard incoming.

“You fucking bastard! How dare you touch my boyfriend!”

A grunt swung a bottle. Lee Taebaek folded his arm in sync. Blocked the temple strike at the elbow.

Grunt’s eyes bulged in shock.

Blade arced wide. Air whistled. Blood sprayed. Upside-down world for the grunt.

[Limit Time: ●●●●●●○○○]

Last grunt minus baron charged, veins bulging.

Two dead in three seconds. But love trumped fear.

“How dare you kill my boyfriend!”

His roar was raw agony. Nearly tugged the heartstrings.

What even’s the relationship? Kill one boyfriend, another pops up? Fuck logic.

Lee Taebaek toed a pineapple skyward—splat! Spines nailed the eye.

“My eyes, my eyes!!”

While he clawed his face, Lee Taebaek locked arms. Fingers bent unnaturally.

Turned, yanked. Grunt traced a gentle arc through air. Used his momentum against him.

Slam!

Face-planted. Blade to the occiput.

[Limit Time: ●●●●◐○○○○]

Catching his breath, Lee Taebaek eyed the head seat. Baron Mallo wedged between table and sofa, staring back. Lee Taebaek smirked faintly.

Baron Mallo’s face drained pale.