Blood seeped slowly across the floor. Rock kept well clear of the generous pool.

From a relatively safe spot, Rock lobbed in a smoke grenade. It was at Lee Taebaek’s request for rear support.

At the same time, the micro-camera implanted in his eyeball dutifully captured footage of Lee Taebaek’s dazzling exploits.

“…Ha.”

As he watched, entranced, a sigh slipped out. In that brief moment, heat signatures flickered across the mask.

The words Lee Taebaek had said with a serious look just before charging out suddenly crossed his mind.

– While the smoke spreads, I’ll sweep the area around the center of the clearing once.

Rock had tilted his head quizzically, and he’d brushed it off vaguely.

– …Just one of my abilities. Not important. Stay put until I signal. Fumito, if you can’t hold back and rush in, we’ll all be done for—so Rock, keep him in check.

With that, he’d bolted like the wind, plunging straight into the enemy lines without hesitation.

By the time he’d reached out to stop him, it was too late. The smoke grenade was already billowing fog, and Lee Taebaek had hurled himself into it. His retreating figure looked like a moth diving into flames. Another idiot as enslaved to instinct as Fumito.

Rock had figured that if things went south, he’d abandon him and retreat immediately. Kang Hyeonseong would have no choice but to nod along if he reported that he’d charged off alone.

In emergencies, the rest could flee for their lives. That was even in the Resistance bylaws. He had no doubt it was a rational, reasonable call. And yet…

“Uwaaaaaah-”

…A scream erupted from where Rock stared in stunned disbelief, with a grotesque sound reaching its peak.

“@#!$%! Fuuuck-.”

Shwick-

The enemies whose legs had been swallowed by the floor scrambled in panic. Fumito flitted through their ranks like a butterfly, striking like a bee with his blades.

His long Ootachi hacked at thick limbs and torsos like chopping firewood. The wakizashi reliably pierced, slashed, and severed the throbbing arteries in their necks.

Flesh tore. Blood sprayed.

“Ngh!”

Drenched in gore, Fumito merely wiped his eyes and brow. He flicked away the blood beading on his eyebrows.

His wolfish eyes darted side to side, locking onto the next prey. And so the butchery continued.

Shraaaack!

The stench of death hung low. In Fumito’s wake, blood, chunks of flesh, and bone shards scattered like gravel underfoot.

The enemies couldn’t even respond as he rampaged freely through their midst—thanks to Lee Taebaek’s heads-up.

True to his word, something bizarre happened. The ground around his footprints began to cave in one by one.

Most of the enemies just gawked around blankly. It’d take them minutes to realize the escape route was right under their feet.

And no wonder. Visibility was shit already, and some dual-wielding maniac was carving them up like tofu. No room for calm thinking. A few who managed to yank free tried fleeing anyway.

“Where?!”

They ended up as dew on his blade.

Fumito hooked his knives into their elbows and yanked. He wiped off the blood and grime, then swung around to scan the surroundings.

Roll roll.

As the smoke thinned just right, fresh grenades rolled in, blanketing the area anew. Even dazed, Rock stuck to his job.

“@#!$%! @##!”

“What the fuck’s he saying?!”

“Guns! Draw your guns!”

“Shit. We’re all going to die together?!”

“We’re fucked no matter wha-!”

The enemies were cornered. Numbers meant nothing. Everything was going smoothly per Lee Taebaek’s plan.

“No idea what kinda magic this is, but…”

Whatever. The point was, Lee Taebaek had set the table. A wicked grin spread across his lips. He was a psychopath who lived for this shit.

“Thanks, Taebaek! I’m having a bla-!”

That instant.

Bang—!

A gunshot rang out from the smoke. Fumito and Rock’s gazes snapped to the source in unison.

Toward where Lee Taebaek and Haiyen were fighting.

His trigger finger froze. Lee Taebaek’s wildly shaking pupils met Haiyen’s crooked ones. Smoke drifted lazily between their stares.

“Kuh… heh, heh heh heh.”

Haiyen grinned viciously. Only the left corner of his mouth lifted—the right cheek hollow and empty.

The gun barrel piercing his stubble-covered cheek jutted out like a silver spike. Beyond the hole, purple-stained gums and shattered teeth fragments tumbled.

The moment Python spat fire, he’d clamped down on the muzzle. Then rolled his tongue to divert the bullet out his mouth instead of down his throat. Half his face was gone, but Haiyen was still alive.

“…Tough bastard.”

His bleached-white mind regained calm.

I wasn’t careless.’

If anything, he’d overcalculated. Haiyen had just exceeded expectations.

Street-honed real combat experience.

The bastard was mumbling something.

“Johoohm ppaedoo dwaelgga?”

“…”

“Ibani noomuh tteookeunhaeseo mariya.”

Translating: “Mind if I spit? Mouth’s too hot to talk.” Despite biting it himself, he didn’t wait for an answer.

Muzzle still in his jaws, Haiyen advanced. As the distance closed, the protruding silver spike lengthened in turn. Saliva soaked the gun along the way.

“A brief farewell. I’ll come find you soon.”

Lee Taebaek released Python without regret, drawing Para Blade’s edge in place of the first love he’d let go while boot-kicking that broad chest to escape.

Slash-!

The greatsword raked horizontally across his chest. The thin outer garment soaked red. He’d barely dodged being bisected.

Grind.

This time, a vertical chop. He twisted his torso, and the sawteeth fell to his side. Haiyen gripped his massive blade two-handed and swung from standstill.

“Yahamche gachi jaldo pyuhaneukun-!”

Haiyen spat while attacking. The pistol dangling like a piercing mangled his speech.

“Eodi akkae chyeoreu total sso boshiji!!”

His speech slurred too. Drugs regressed his mind to toddler levels, seizing control.

“…Fucking chatterbox.”

“Heoshe-!”

Damn. He’d pulled distance, but the greatsword’s absurd reach made it hellish.

Might as well have kept shooting. Dodging those brutish swings nonstop was infuriating. His brain felt like melting.

Clang-!

A few parries in, he stopped. One more and the blade would’ve flown from his grip. Counters needed some exchange of offense and defense.

But.

Almost done even with this.

The time was nigh.

Enhancement duration’s right on the edge.’

Plus, the fishy smell meant rain was coming soon.

Smoke op would end then.

After that, a hail of bullets was due. Just imagining it chilled his skin.

Lee Taebaek’s range was narrowed too.

Dodging alone ties my feet.

So before the next assault, he steeled himself. He would risk short-term danger for a decisive gamble.

Rat-tat-tat!

Lee Taebaek charged low and straight, using momentum to burrow into Haiyen’s guard.

One shot. Fail to kill with this strike, and he’d offer his neck meekly.

Siesta Assassination Art, quickly mastered, was for ambushes. A night art designed solely for murder.

Yet unconsciously, he’d etched its killing principles into arms, legs, and blades unbeknownst even to himself.

Now point-blank, he thrust diagonally upward, the umbrella tip in his left hand aiming for the eye.

“Hup!!”

Haiyen, as if waiting, swung down while his free hand went for his eye.

Just before blade met blade, the sharp umbrella tip was about to pierce the soft eyeball.

That split-second etched into his eyes like a frozen scene.

Whoo- whirr- huuumm-.

The greatsword’s fierce wind. Sword gale tousling his hair felt refreshing.

It was like a blocked channel clearing. So this was adrenaline surging.

Come to think of it, the combat-illiterate Lee Taebaek now sought only ways to kill Haiyen.

His senses flared wide, sucking in his surroundings like a sponge.

Fleshly influence? Electric chair head trauma…?

Whatever.

Quit the pointless self-Q&A.

Erase Earth-me. Live in the now. Accepting it as-is, laughter bubbled up.

His split selves clasped hands, merging at last. Eternal time resumed flow.

Lee Taebaek spun his right wrist, reversing the umbrella grip. The tip reached the eye-target, then whipped behind his back.

His prediction gloriously wrong, dismay dawned on Haiyen’s face. His balance and blade arc veered—subtly, but surely.

Lee Taebaek wedged in, pressing the sawteeth flush to his blade. The grinding metal scratched the soul, and sparks flew.

His feet gouged furrows. As he was pushed back, dirt piled beside his boots. He was the one pouring full weight in. Haiyen faltered awkwardly on defense. Yet Lee Taebaek lost the raw strength contest. Plus, [Strength] duration ended—he held on with pure flesh and grit.

Just a bit… a bit more…!

When greatsword and blade guards clashed, his pinky barely extended, tapping the flat.

Snap—the greatsword broke in two, the head burying in the dirt. Haiyen’s face went soulless. Lee Taebaek stomped down on the hilt with his raised foot, sealing any chance of counterattack.

“You fucking son of a!”

Haiyen recovered, raising a wok-lid hand. Biceps twitched ominously.

Bang-!

Sudden thunderclap. Red liquid trickled down Haiyen’s arm. A new hole framed the scenery beyond his palm.

– Shoot! Shoot! Fire!

– Th-that butcher bastard!

– Fuuuck! Where you—.

His minions’ desperate flailing punched holes in their boss instead. That sparked blind bullets riddling Haiyen amid shouts.

Lee Taebaek bore not a scratch. His unfolded umbrella shielded from behind. Bullets popped off the fabric like popcorn.

Para Blade’s first gimmick: “Bulletproof Fabric.”

Haiyen’s horrified eyes watched his balance waver. Lee Taebaek’s blade-hand balled into a fist, slamming his solar plexus.

Haiyen groaned, arms dropping. Lee Taebaek’s blade pierced his temple without mercy.

Haiyen thrashed to the end, foaming and shaking his head.

“Grrgh…!”

Lee Taebaek twisted and shoved the blade. He did all the one-handed damage possible.

Bullets drummed the fabric, tingling umbrella-grip fingers. Parry, block—no rest.

“Glurgle!”

“Juuust…!”

“Kyarruk- rak!”

“Dieeeee!”

The melee amid stray fire went on for a long while. Finally, one of them slumped lifelessly.

The struggle ended.