[Emergency situation! All distinguished guests, please evacuate as quickly as possible…!]

The sirens pierced his ears. The flashing warning lights assaulted his retinas, while helicopters buzzed overhead, rattling his eardrums. It was chaos straight out of a painting.

Haragusa Entertainment, the world’s top megacorp by market cap. The artificial island they’d built just for this event was on the verge of splitting in two. It must have been constructed from some ultra-alloy worth more than anyone could fathom…

Kugugugugrrr!

The Ten Wings unleashed their fury. Any brave soul who hadn’t fled could see the truth plain as day. The island’s innards were exposed as the ground cleaved apart, revealing six menacing faces glaring out.

That was all it took. The island crumpled like a cake. This was exactly why megacorps were desperate to recruit Ten Wings.

When things are normal, it’s money that rules.

In a crisis like this, it’s violence.

“Kiyaaaaah!”

“This way! Over here!”

“Everyone, follow our instructions…!”

People scrambled to evacuate while security tensed up. Even these highly trained pros panted heavily. When the Ten Wings squared off, they suddenly felt utterly insignificant.

They hunkered behind barricades of toppled chairs, cautiously peeking gun barrels outward. Lee Taebaek was one of them.

His reaction stood out. He chuckled inwardly.

Looks like Jasbi did her job perfectly.

Previously, he’d turned down the Saber Master’s invitation. No reason for him to attend a gathering of the Ten Wings elite, and this mess was predictable as ever. No precognition needed—it was obvious. No point risking it.

But skipping a massive event like this would be idiotic. Play it right, and he could fast-track his Daesung goals.

Chaos and opportunity are a hair’s breadth apart.

Kwaduduk, sawdust slapped his cheek. The rift in the earth widened relentlessly. Within an hour, the artificial island would sink beneath the waves.

[Wh-what do we do, Team Leader?!]

One of his team members shouted over the radio at Seong Hayun. Even through the static, his panicked face was vivid in her mind.

[Secure our VVIPs’ positions first! Report anyone you’ve identified immediately!]

[They’re all wearing masks…!]

[Damn it! All high-ranking VIPs—no way we can make them unmask one by one! Hold tight, I’ll check with upper management for descriptions!]

[Wh-what do we do until then?!]

[Use your judgment! You kids need hand-holding?!]

With that, Seong Hayun cut the shared comms. She was probably already hounding the bosses with ruthless efficiency. In a male-dominated company, Seong Hayun was the one with the most nerve.

“Tch, newbie. What’re you gonna do?”

Assistant Manager Kim asked from their shared cover. Lee Taebaek turned, still maintaining [Presence Detection] in all directions.

“Wh-why are the rival security teams acting hostile?!”

“Wait and see.”

“I am waiting! Team Leader said to hold! B-but rival security’s closing in!! No! Newbie, why are you so calm…?”

Kim’s face drained of color. His pupils swirled like he was in full panic mode.

This was normal. Lee Taebaek was the anomaly. It had nothing to do with combat experience count—it was the density of that experience that differed wildly.

Kugugugrrr!

The ground shook again. Sounded like a massive brawl erupting below. From his [Presence Detection] scan, Saber Master Muyachi and Great Master Hong Geolgae were teaming up, while the other two were set to fight it out. The last two watched from the sidelines.

So far, everything’s on plan.

Lee Taebaek wiped the satisfied smirk from his face. Underground was underground’s problem; up here was urgent too. Simple: take out the idiots aiming guns at friendlies and secure Daesung’s VVIPs.

“For now, sunbae, hold the rear guard here.”

As he spoke, he spread his mental net. In the grid-like world, five shadows closed in. Like a spiderweb vibrating—ting.

“I’ll disable the encroaching enemies and clear a path. Chase, suppress, kill. We’ll handle the cleanup later.”

“Y-you’re breaking through alone?”

“You wanna go together?”

“…”

“Not inviting you. You’d just be baggage.”

Kim’s face fell in despair. But he didn’t waste time, nodding curtly.

Lee Taebaek smirked, pulling out his mask and snapping it on. The folding mask molded perfectly to his jawline.

“…Newbie, what’s that?”

“Call it battle mode.”

No magic this time. But swordplay risked exposing him. Some Siesta Hounds were among the hostiles—spotting Siesta Assassination Art would be a headache.

“Beast mode or something?”

“Your word choice… close enough.”

He hit the open switch. Blade drawn, he ditched cover.

The moment he emerged, a sword slashed at him. The trajectory screamed Siesta Hound. He clicked his tongue at the extending blade.

These bastards, ambushing without warning.

Maybe Siesta’s agenda had hijacked his plan. The thought flashed, but it wasn’t urgent now.

Kang!

Lee Taebaek deflected the incoming sword aside, thrusting at the now-exposed chest.

Shhhk!

From behind, twin blades lunged in scissor formation. Two Siesta Hounds’ pincer attack. He spun like a top, abandoning his strike.

Blades clashed high, sparks flying. Hounds leaped into the air, anchoring their weight to crush him from above.

Meanwhile, sharpness prickled from behind. The first one tested, resuming attack. He was dealing with three at once.

Instinct didn’t scream danger. Three Hounds were no match for him now. Not even close.

Lee Taebaek’s silhouette blurred. Quake or intent—who could tell? But what they faced was bizarre: him multiplying into three.

Cloning Technique. Afterimages at super speed to counter numbers. He’d planned ice clones, but magic was sealed—speed it was.

His afterimages surged. The melee ignited. Blades scattered from the tangle, shifting to individual duels. Clones gained the edge fast.

Kugung!

Amid the quake, Lee Taebaek pressed relentlessly. [Strength] buffed, he slammed down like a paving stone. Feet rooted, he parried Hound A’s assault, redirected it, and thrust.

Hound A faltered at the recklessness, realizing too late: clones didn’t care about friendly fire.

Clone A sliced Hound A’s right trapezius. A bit higher, and the carotid would’ve been severed. Pale with terror, Hound A hesitated—a perfect opening to aim Python at his brow.

Tang!

Hound A crumpled, eyes vacant. Clone A fizzled into static, mission complete.

First clone use, and it drained stats more than expected. One enemy down, one clone gone. It was a war of attrition, but by erasing them together, he could drag the fight out a little longer.

“…!”

Another clone latched onto distracted Hound B. Precise cuts etched bloodlines, wet slaps tormenting ears. Desperate, he overcountered to shake the sound.

Straight counter met curving deflection. Clone B arced smoothly. The loop redirected, then snapped like lightning to crush the throat.

“Kek, kek.”

Blood spurted rhythmically from the red line with each hack. Clone B kicked the knee out, circled behind the buckling leg, and slit deep.

Thud.

The head rolled into a rift. The Hound facing the real Lee Taebaek widened his eyes. He tried ignoring it, but watching Siesta Hounds drop one by one shattered his focus.

Somehow he parried nonstop. As Hound 3’s Team Leader, he held against half-serious Lee Taebaek. Since both were based on the Siesta Assassination Art, it looked quite good.

“Ah, damn. Wasn’t gonna kill you.”

But Lee Taebaek tsked. A massive rumble widened the rift hugely. The corpses his clones had killed were swallowed into the rift.

“Now I gotta kill you too.”

Chill.

The Hound fought desperately; Lee Taebaek looked bored. He’d planned to slip away in the chaos.

This won’t do.

Chaeng!

Desperate, the Hound swung wildly. Lee Taebaek hooked the wrist with his umbrella grip. No hesitation—the Hound slashed down.

Srck!

Arm severed like a lizard tail. The “human” skin was synthetic. Cybernetic prosthetic, hidden to bait carelessness. Or maybe for times like this. Nearly worked.

He spun and bolted explosively, aiming to rally allies in tactical retreat. Lee Taebaek toed the arm up, volley-kicked it airborne.

“Keuk!”

Nape struck, back arched like a bow. Steel arm meant heavy hit; [Strength] made it devastating.

Split-second stun. In this quake, it was the best possible news.

He used Bullet Time to refine his aim, then fired.

Tang, tang, tang—!

Golden tracers pierced the shoulder joint. He wrenched his grinding head. Lee Taebaek held the gun impassively, Python puffing smoke. Amid flipping terrain, his shots were dead-on.

“Told you. All gotta die.”

Another twitch of the trigger. Gunshot brief, scream briefer.

Jijijijik—

His layered silhouettes converged at the center.

Below, explosions boomed, lights flashed. The Ten Wings’ battle was overheating. One death, and the plan would crumble.

Lee Taebaek slicked back his hair. He brought his quaking hand to his ear.

“Assistant Manager Kim.”

He gave the command to his pale-faced senior. Thud—through the earpiece came the sound of him collapsing to the floor. Chaos drowned it.

“Clean up behind.”

No reply needed. He leaped into the rift.