Spare no effort.

It sounds pretty convincing.

But is it really?

Spare no effort. In other words, perfect preparation… is that even possible?

Who knows.

Lee Taebaek was skeptical.

Creak, creak.

He stepped onto the ice, pondering. The precarious sound of the ice cracking echoed beneath his feet.

There’s no such thing as perfect preparation.

Everything in the world is ultimately judged by results. He knew this well as a former game developer.

What game company in their right mind would release a doomed product? Unless it was just for inflating stock prices, everyone poured their hearts into it. They prepared with everything on the line.

Yet failures were a dime a dozen.

Knowing this reality all too well, Lee Taebaek believed that acting first and adjusting later was key.

In emergencies, the real skill is in adaptation.

This time was no different.

The Magic Tower Master’s declaration of war—Myo the Heavenly Demon.

Creak, creak.

From the Resistance’s perspective, it was a national disaster-level crisis. The Kergel Magic Tower had openly declared they would wipe out Lee Taebaek and the entire Resistance. Trouble had come knocking, and countermeasures were needed. At the meeting, the Battalion Commanders had shouted at him until his ears hurt.

Spare no effort.

Who didn’t know that?

So what exactly was “spare no effort” supposed to mean?

When he turned the question back on them, they bit their lower lips.

Creak, creak.

Still, Lee Taebaek didn’t sigh or show any regret. It wasn’t that the Battalion Commanders were pathetic loudmouths. They were pleading out of anxiety, fear, and the desperate need to do something.

What do I do in a situation like this…

He’d agonized over it for days on end.

Suddenly thrust into this role. The former Commander-in-Chief hadn’t irresponsibly ditched the organization but had passed full authority to Lee Taebaek.

The decisions were entirely his. One word from him could sway countless fates.

Creak, creak.

He rummaged through his past memories indiscriminately. Not for perfect answers, but for possible solutions.

Even if it’s foolish.

Something had to be done. War with the Magic Tower was inevitable. It was a foregone conclusion.

Creak, creak.

Then, a face popped into his mind—one he couldn’t ignore if he tried.

Yes, his eternal boss, Team Leader Seo. Looking back, she’d dropped plenty of life-piercing wisdom. They say all great quotes come from construction sites. Roll around in a black company long enough, and anyone turns into a philosopher. Let alone an over-spec genius like Team Leader Seo—she could probably slap Descartes silly.

Creak.

I move forward.

—Assistant Manager Lee, you’re too much of a perfectionist.

One step ahead.

—What… is that? That proud look? This isn’t a compliment, you know? It’s practically an insult… Assistant Manager Lee, into that kind of thing?

Crossing the frozen lake.

—Ahem, ahem. Anyway, being a perfectionist is like a good-looking apricot. Aiming for perfection is great in theory. But most people like that never even start. Of course, you’re not one of them, Assistant Manager Lee. You’re so enthusiastic it’s almost too much.

Toward the enemy stronghold standing motionless.

—Still, Assistant Manager Lee. There’s no such thing as ‘perfect’ in this world. Think about it—social order, the ‘law’ looks neat and safe on the surface, but it’s full of holes, right? And what patches those? Incidents, accidents, complaints. That sort of thing.

Did you know?

The Kergel Magic Tower’s main building resembles “that tower” from epic fantasy movies. It was the influence of his past life, where he’d become a fan of the source material after watching the film.

A massive double spire twisting upward like a helix, then jutting out like horns at the peak. Between those twin horns…

Whoosh!

…flames erupted and writhed. The fire demon instantly morphed into an eye shape. Like a cyclops giant peering down at us.

“Th, the Heavenly Demon.”

“Damn it…!”

All sorts of regrets stabbed at the back of Lee Taebaek, who led the advance. His companions felt it too. Some trembled in fear; others probably glared at him with reproach for this decision.

—Don’t look away from that.

Accept it.

—Challenging despite the unease. At least in my opinion, that’s the ‘perfection’ modern society demands.

Just keep moving silently.

—This isn’t perfection; it’s ‘chaos’? Hmm. Sharp observation. True. The world is heading toward embracing diversity more, so it might look chaotic.

Focus on each step, Lee Taebaek.

—Isn’t that the ideal Raken’s you’re chasing?

His thoughts shattered. Team Leader Seo’s face fragmented and scattered.

—Just do it first and see.

The faces, the smiles from every angle, whispered to him.

—“The luck of the world will aid you.”

Lee Taebaek opened his eyes to reality. He met the gaze of the giant eye atop the Magic Tower. Somehow, they were already within its range.

Inadequate preparation. Allies scheming to bolt in anxiety. The untimely raid. Everything was chaos, but.

That’s what makes it more Raken’s.

Lee Taebaek tensed his abdomen. Feeling the air in his gut push against his abs, he bellowed.

“Come at me!”

…Screeech.

The towering gates creaked open. Soon, a demonic wind howled from the Demon’s Den within.

Alright, boss raid begins.

Swoosh.

Lee Taebaek kicked off the ground. A massive gouge scarred the surface as a streak of light shot into the fortress entrance. His subordinates would thaw from their freeze and catch up later. As long as the vanguard’s momentum held.

Focus.

The interior of the Demon’s Den was a long, wide corridor—more like a cavern.

Presences stirred behind pillars lining the end of the hall. Ominous auras too. Demonic qi. Mages lurking in shadows, their eyes gleaming.

No Heavenly Demon.

Figures. Would she have anticipated this sudden assault? The Resistance and allies had mobilized half-asleep.

In short, these were the tower’s resident mages. They must’ve opened the gates figuring they could handle obvious intruders themselves. Arrogance and bravado.

His form blurred into afterimages, vision rippling. He drew the Para Blade.

The next instant, cross-shaped patterns shattered across his sight. Mages’ spells bore down on him.

This is where it starts.

He had to etch it into the minds of those hesitating outside. As vanguard, seize the momentum. Show with his body that today was prime for raiding the megacorp.

Snap.

Lee Taebaek flicked his fingers. Frost gathered on the blade. He swung, unleashing it. A white sword path surged toward the mages.

Slash!

Several limbs detached. Spells closed in steadily, but he accelerated past them. His previous spot exploded. Pillars crumbled, the ceiling was holed, and the battle heat overwhelmed the dawdlers at the entrance.

Yet Lee Taebaek took no hits. He [Nerf]ed air resistance, [Buff]ed Strength and Magic Power to the limit. To onlookers, he was lightning. The 1st Battalion Commander gaped.

“…That’s the Supreme?”

Lee Taebaek leaped forward, thrusting at a strong-looking mage. The mage deployed a hexahedral force field in panic. Ting. A hollow whoosh, and the Para Blade halted.

Without hesitation, he hurled the blade backward. It spun like a boomerang, sweeping his rear. Blood erupted from every orifice, screams following.

Leaving the rear to the blade, he reached out. Grabbed and froze the force field. Crack. It spiderwebbed like shattered glass, reflecting the enemy’s face. He cocked his fist. Thrust. It shattered like a soul breaking. Crash.

The mage tried regenerating the field.

Too late.

Whirr, crunch!

The Para Blade, having claimed a lap of lives, impaled the nape. Perfectly timed boomerang.

“*Urk…*”

The mage spat groans and blade-tip simultaneously, his eyes losing focus.

“…!”

Shock rippled.

From enemies. And allies too.

Lee Taebaek seized the mage’s head, twisted the neck. Gripped the umbrella handle, now reversed, and slammed down. He booted the bisected corpse aside.

Assaults continued. Terrifying shockwaves. These weren’t mages to panic at losing a leader. Heavenly Demonic Cult origins. Demonic arts erode humanity, swiftly calming emotions.

Lee Taebaek gathered Magic Power. At the cost of [Nerf]ing all other stats. Finger-flicking mages flinched. Air pressure thickened.

As if air gained weight…

His hypothesis proved true.

Remaining mages flopped like fish. Utterly crushed. One lifted his head arduously, to see the trick.

Crack, craaack.

Shouldn’t have looked.

Who’d imagine freezing the entire space?

“Guh, guh.”

Breathing became labored. His lungs were hardening. It felt like chestnuts rolling in his chest.

Lee Taebaek flash-froze airborne moisture, sealing movement and deep-freezing them alive.

The plan worked; dozens shrieked helplessly.

Not enough. Fire mages would melt it. He wouldn’t allow that.

Clang.

The blade hit the floor. Then he raked the air with both hands. Resistance snagged every finger joint, thanks to the freeze.

Sinews bulged on his arms. He [Buff]ed Strength.

Crack, crack.

Joints twisted. Enduring agony, he pulled the air.

Rumble…!

Mages peeled from the floor, rocketing to the ceiling. Gravity inverted instantly.

What? What sorcery? Minds blanked in confusion. The chandelier loomed closer. Then it skewered the mage. Others fared no better.

“Aaaargh!”

Space inversion. It was Art Master’s ultimate technique that he’d seen, improved by Lee Taebaek, who had less natural Strength than her. The performance was as witnessed.

Even the doubters deflated now.

“That’s…”

The Supreme of the Ten Wings.

“…our new Commander-in-Chief.”