“Hmm…”

Chairwoman Ryu’s groan dragged on. Lee Taebaek watched her reaction with beady eyes. The same guy who’d been brazenly demanding everything, neck held stiff as a board.

The report he’d put together was packed with demands that would be tough to swallow under any normal circumstances. He hadn’t expected her to greenlight it on the spot, either.

This went beyond major company matters. Depending on the angle, it could threaten the very survival of Daesung Group. Today, he’d just float the idea and hash out the details after the board meeting…

“Approved.”

“As expected, I mean—wait, what?”

“I said it’s good.”

Why this reaction?

“…For real?”

Chairwoman Ryu nodded half-heartedly. Her eyes looked tired; she took off her glasses and gently rubbed her furrowed brow. Moments later, she slipped them back on, reclaiming that cool, businesslike gaze, and elaborated.

“That’s my answer for now. No point hiding it, so I’ll be straight with you. Your requests, Taebaek? They’re outrageous. The kind that could make or break Daesung.”

“Yeah, figured.”

His eyes flicked to those four syllables in the report draft. Super Armor. Short, but punchy enough to hit like a freight train.

“The gear itself is one thing, but anyone can see it’s meant to go up against Kergel Magic Tower. You won’t slap a logo on it, sure, but who’d buy that it’s not Daesung tech? Unless you tell me I’m overthinking it—then we’ll go with the branding.”

“No worries. Your hunch was spot on.”

“Oh, my head…”

Chairwoman Ryu promptly clutched her head in agony.

“…And here I am, in no position to judge. Daesung’s secrets are leaking already… Can’t even keep my own mouth shut as chairwoman. Haah… What’s done is done. We’ll just have to lock it down tighter from here on.”

Super Armor was like Prosthetic Bodies but on a different track. The latter ripped out flesh and swapped in machines; Super Armor draped machines over living flesh. No need for bloody incisions or anything messy.

Take Wing Suits as an example. The ones Lilith Order folks wore.

Daesung’s outsourced Super Armor took it further—an upgraded full-body mechanical suit. Wings were just the start; this enveloped everything. The mere thought sent a chill down his spine. The good kind.

Lee Taebaek had commissioned her to make it. Must’ve given her the creeps. Super Armor was a top-secret project even within the group.

At this stage, they’d barely sketched the outlines. The business was just entering its initial phase. Risks were crawling everywhere.

But.

Lee Taebaek was a developer. A Raken’s expert. And this was five years before the main story. Possessors like him had to leverage info advantages.

Super Armor’s debut is two years from now, but…

Daesung Group had reformed. Thanks to this woman, they’d swiftly built a healthy structure. Just talking to her made it clear. She was competent—and straight-laced.

At this rate, they could pull off that two-year-future tech right now. Honestly, Daesung’s R&D wouldn’t skyrocket in a few years anyway. Not a dig; they were already at the mechanical industry’s bleeding edge.

Every megacorp had specialties, and Daesung owned this one. Haragusa or Siesta couldn’t keep up. Unless talent got poached. With their solid finances, Daesung wouldn’t skimp on R&D perks. They’d spoil them rotten.

Lee Taebaek eyed Chairwoman Ryu. She leaned back on the sofa, staring blankly at her laptop. She was drafting a business plan in her head.

Maybe Daesung’s shift from Prosthetic Bodies to Super Armor is thanks to her, too.

Prosthetic Bodies still hit ethical snags. They were like a second skin in the upper districts now, but plenty of elites grumbled. It just felt off. Chairwoman Ryu probably felt the same.

After deep thought, she turned to him.

“When do you think you’ll need it, Taebaek?”

She’d made up her mind. To stand against Kergel Magic Tower. What a gutsy woman. Ready to take on the Demonic Cult itself.

Similar age, and he felt respect. Yeah, dinner once wouldn’t hurt. Keeping that thought private, he replied.

“Sooner the better. Some delay’s fine, though. Wasn’t planning to use it myself anyway.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Gonna outfit the Resistance elites. Now that I’ve roughly aligned with Daesung, I’ll head back to HQ and muster special forces. For them. Me? Nah…”

He didn’t need it. He fought fine as is. Layering on an Iron Man concept would be overkill.

“Hold on. You’re asking for multiples, not just one?”

“Yup.”

“Factory lines aren’t even set up yet?”

“Tech’s there. For setup advice: Paraffin VK.3 factory in District 23, Sector 4. Reuse their mobile unit assembly line as the core. Build from there. R&D will flesh it out.”

“W-Wait… How do you even…?”

Lee Taebaek tapped his temple.

“In this city, info is life.”

“…That’s not info; that’s classified! That means the Resistance has Daesung’s lifeline in a chokehold!”

“You think so?”

“Yes!”

“Then that’s the case.”

“You—!”

Chairwoman Ryu shot to her feet. Fist clenched like she might swing, then deflated like a punctured balloon and sank back down.

One or a dozen, same if the setup’s there… She muttered glumly, blew hair from her eyes, then fixed him with a steely gaze.

“I’ll accept it.”

“Thanks.”

“But on one condition.”

Here it comes. Dinner date, easy.

“Not that.”

“Then…”

“It’s Super Armor for fighting mages, right? Sunwoong said it once: Know thyself, know thy enemy—victory in a hundred battles.”

Know the enemy, and you will win a hundred battles. It’s a saying every Korean has engraved on their heart. To beat mages, study mages. Design durability and force fields accordingly. Just building it blind? Might as well be scrap metal. And with a person inside? Worse.

Straight talk. She had the knack. She’d zeroed in on what he’d overlooked in minutes. Lee Taebaek nodded gravely.

“What do you need from me?”

He was a mage too. Happy to help design anti-magic defenses. If anything, he should be the one stepping up.

But despite his eagerness, she politely declined.

“This project’s not something a few test subjects will solve. If it were, I’d have tapped a mid-tier tire maker, not Daesung.”

Ah, megacorp mindset.

“We need a test subject Daesung can tear apart and chew up. A real mage.”

“You don’t mean…”

She shrugged. Seeing her smile slyly, Lee Taebaek stuck out his tongue in shock. Chairwoman Ryu was straight-up asking him to kidnap some mages. Peak megacorp thinking.

Suddenly, her gaze drifted to the window. Rain pattered down. Droplets warped the view.

The cityscape twisted into a surreal painting. Buildings were half-sliced like bamboo stalks. Black-and-white spirals crawled up their sides. Yeah. That’s enemy territory. Kergel Magic Tower.

“To spill less blood in the war… we gotta see some first. Not thrilled about asking, believe me.”

“I get it.”

No judgment here. Her plan was the best option. Alternatives were feeble.

Her gaze returned from the city and settled on me, a wry smile forming.

“Disappointed? That I’m this kind of woman?”

“Nope.”

He didn’t shake his head. He met her gaze steadily. Gestures diluted truth.

“If anything… I like it.”

He left Daesung Group and headed straight out. Off to meet Goeun. Kinda odd to pick a destination just to find the landlord, but she hadn’t been around lately.

Probably swamped with work.

Goeun was a broker. Job meant meeting tons of people. As she’d said before, bartending was just a hobby. Or a spot for industry whispers.

Either way.

Right now, Lee Taebaek needed her most. Bit crude, but they say even dog shit is nowhere when you need it—and with Goeun holed up, he had to hunt her down.

Vroooom!

Red Hare tore down the avenue, weaving through traffic gaps. No time to savor the outlaw thrill. Jasbi’s call had his mouth and ears occupied.

“Tracked her yet?”

—Kinda… tracking, but super hard to pinpoint, nyaa. Feels like the landlady’s somewhere signals can’t reach?

Ah. Downside of the info age. Dead zones are rarer now. No time to dawdle. Clock’s ticking.

“Jasbi. Where in the city do you think signals struggle most?”

—Nowhere.

“You’re AI. Flex that imagination.”

He hit her competitive streak, and it worked. She fired back seriously.

—Grr. Fine, airplane or underground maybe. But these days, sky or dirt, signals get through. Unless someone’s jammed the whole area.

A brainstorm sparked. That’s why bouncing ideas off someone rocks. She just patched my blind spot.

“Jasbi.”

—What, what? Sorryyyy, AI can’t match human imagination waaaah.

Wind noise drowned it out. So he pressed on.

“You’re the best AI out there.”

—Huh? Sudden much?

“Nah. Always have been.”

…

Ehehe, ehehehe!

The piercing squeal rattled his eardrums. He regretted it instantly. Praise makes dolphins dance; this one spins like a top. That leads to slip-ups.

He yanked out the earbuds. Switched to the Lilith Order navigator for his destination.

Underground, where signals don’t reach. There was only one spot in the city that blanketed the whole area in radio silence.

Kergel’s Arena.

A perfectly timed spot. It felt like the world bent to his whims.