Chapter 54: I, Descend (4)

Outside the building, things had quieted down. The number of Magnostrom gangsters patrolling the outer walls had dwindled dramatically.

The gangs’ reactions upon discovering the bodies fell into two categories. Either they bolted outright or spat curses.

Swish-!

Their end was always the same. No matter their response, every last one of them lost their head.

“Mm.”

Fumito kicked a rolling severed head away with casual disdain. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom.

“Ha- Boring.”

A sigh escaped him. Magnostrom was supposed to be the head of the Gang Alliance, wasn’t it? A swarm of punks who fancied themselves big shots in the lower and lowest districts.

Lately, everything felt dull. If he had to name the last time his blood had boiled, he’d have to rewind a whole month.

‘Back in the day, life-or-death duels were a daily gamble with our necks on the line.’

Those days were gone. Ever since the Resistance got on track, such brutal scraps had grown rare. That’s why he’d been counting down the hours to today.

A full month of anticipation. He’d barely slept from the excitement.

“What a joke.”

But the enemy’s level fell woefully short of expectations. This was barely better than empty husks.

The skill gap was glaring. Even with three on their side against dozens, it wasn’t enough to tip the scales.

Magnostrom’s elites had been dispatched to where Levi—their boss—and the Commander-in-Chief were, which played a part too.

The gangsters left at base were mostly greenhorns. Cannon fodder. No match for the 9th Battalion.

Shohei the Human Butcher, oblivious to that fact, just stood there feeling empty.

Romance, romance was lacking. He craved that rush of veins thickening with thrill. But nope.

“Haa.”

All that came from Fumito’s mouth was a sigh. That’s when a presence tapped his back.

Tap.

The presence behind him vanished in the same instant. Fumito just flicked his eyes over.

The moment his gaze landed, the squirming gangster froze. Like a bug sprayed with insecticide.

“Hey.”

“…….”

“You dead?”

“…….”

“You dead, I said?”

“…….”

His mood was already sour enough. And now, the gangster who’d been aiming for his nape had keeled over—right on cue.

Fumito was pissed. Like a beast robbed of its prey.

“Why’d you die without permission, you bastard-!”

He whipped his head up, snarling. A slender-waisted woman stood there, moon at her back.

Yu Dahui slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder with a shrug. Even allies being too competent was a problem. It always left him frustrated and wanting.

Fumito sheathed his two swords at his hips. He glanced toward the entrance, eyes flickering with conflict.

‘Might as well just…’

Ten minutes had passed since Lee Taebaek and Kang Hyeonseong entered the base.

‘No way those two fail, but…’

Who knew? Maybe the Gang Alliance boss was a freak of nature, desperately needing his help.

“Yare yare.”

He muttered in his native tongue without thinking. Guess he’d have to lend a hand.

Fumito’s face lit up smugly. He grinned crookedly and turned toward the entrance.

Rock’s furious rant stabbed his eardrums over the radio. But nothing could stop an alpha male on the move. Radio off it was.

“Yeah, Fumito. I’m just going to help the team. Not slacking off. I’ve done my part, right? Sneaking in for a bit of fun—no one’s gonna blame me. Of course not…!”

He was midway through self-justifying as he stepped forward.

Kurrrung!

A roar crushed the darkness. Debris jittered up from underfoot. What the hell?

The lag between shock and reality was brief. Fumito groaned. Blinding lights assaulted his eyes. The source: the entrance.

All eyes snapped there. The gangsters perked up at the bold charge. Meanwhile, Lee Taebaek’s crew paled in unison.

‘N-No way…!’

It was Red Hare’s sound. He couldn’t imagine Lee Taebaek and Kang Hyeonseong losing. Despair flashed in the 9th Battalion members’ eyes.

“You son of a…!”

Fumito gritted his teeth and drew his blade. Then headlights barreled toward him like a punch to the face.

Just as his retinas prickled, Red Hare veered at a right angle. Fumito mustered focus to reclaim his vision.

Burning rubber stench, blurred white sight, acrid exhaust stinging his tongue. He pieced the sensory data into a mental image.

Then opened his eyes to confirm reality. Instantly, expressions flipped—his crew’s and the gangsters’ alike.

“Y-You… you…!”

The bike halted sideways, flaunting its might. Through the thick canopy between red panels gleamed green particles churning energy.

“How many times do I have to call you? Snap out of it.”

The rider was Lee Taebaek. He extended one leg to brace the bike’s weight.

Pssshhh-!

The cylindrical engine vented steam. Red Hare steamed with heat. Its tires sparked electricity, melting concrete.

Lee Taebaek’s voice sliced the dark—like the headlights beaming from Red Hare.

“Time’s short, so explanation’s brief.”

His mask split sideways, baring his lips. Steam wisped from the gap.

“Plan change. Fumito, head inside and back up Kang Hyeonseong. He’ll be facing off with the woman—capture her alive. Limbs don’t need to be intact. But capture her alive, no fail.”

“…….”

As silence hung, Lee Taebaek pressed.

“Don’t just sit there!”

“R-Right!!”

Next, he radioed Rock on the rooftop. Her breath hitched.

“Got a favor.”

Lee Taebaek added quickly. No time to wait for replies. Every second counted.

“Can you handle it?”

– *Hiss*

He took her inhaled breath as a ‘yes.’ It had to be.

Chiiik.

The mask resealed over his lower face. He turned Red Hare toward the narrow elevated road stretching ahead.

The remaining gangsters finally caught on. The rider wasn’t their boss.

“Fuck, shit. Who the hell are you to ride the boss’s prize bike?!”

“Boss… boss got taken down? By that pretty-boy gigolo? Can’t even fu—!”

“Red Hare’s exclusive to the boss! How the hell did that bastard—!!”

He stared them down through the windshield. Original plan was stealth infiltration.

But new intel changed that. A traitor lurked in the 0th Battalion.

To make matters worse, the Commander-in-Chief was set to meet the Sword Master—with the traitor in tow.

‘Stealth’s out.’

Fail to regroup fast, and the Commander-in-Chief dies to the Sword Master. That spells doom for the Resistance.

‘Gonna have to explain to Kang Hyeonseong later.’

Sharp Yu Dahui must’ve clocked it already—from the headlights’ glare.

‘Kill every last one. No survivors.’

– Roger.

He didn’t look back, but somehow saw Yu Dahui nod.

Lee Taebaek chalked it up to team trust. Truth was, it was Presence Detection—the upgrade from Presence Concealment.

He’d picked it up unconsciously, driven by operator whims. Such desires manifested naturally.

Lee Taebaek revved the engine again. Vibrations surged from his seat to his scalp.

His chest swelled. The task ahead was dire enough to stake their lives on.

Red Hare thrilled him—an all-terrain beast, the city’s top-output bike.

But more than that, the fullness of theft swelled greater. True Robber concept rearing its head.

Lee Taebaek grinned coarsely, hunkering low.

Wheels spun viciously in place, carving deep grooves.

Brrrrrr-!

His view curved dead ahead. A wrist flick shrank the horizon to a dot.

Like an arrow nocked on a bowstring—body stretching taut.

Paang-!

Red Hare rocketed forward.

Lake City’s soil was generally barren. Layers of trash and filth had compacted into sticky petroleum hues.

In the city’s lower districts stood District 32—a rare patch retaining Earth’s flesh tone. Amid plaster-like ground, the sole fertile loam. Sentinel Gang claimed it all.

On that rich soil, Sentinel Gang cultivated crops. Urban gang farmers? A laughable joke.

Until you learned what grew: ‘Ppoppi.’ The grass base for the high-end ‘Berserk’ drug.

Plastic greenhouses crammed the heart of the city. The Commander-in-Chief and his 0th Battalion snaked through the tight gaps. White robes rustled against vinyl.

Swish.

He halted mid-stride, signaling. The 0th Battalion froze. Nine in total, including him.

– They’ve got a ton made.

The Commander-in-Chief scanned around and chuckled dryly. He and the 0th had come personally for that reason.

To witness—and wipe out—this drug production that could chew up the city.

– Left ’em alone to play self-police, and they pull this scheme? Who knew~.

“…….”

– Lucky Taebaek tipped us off. Nearly rotted in the sewers while these thugs took over the lowers.

Cold fury boiled in the mechanical voice. Fields everywhere—east, west, north, south. The more they grew, the sicker the city got.

“You sure keep that newbie on your lips, Commander.”

A flank follower jabbed. Thorns in his tone.

– Think I’m playing favorites? That what you wanna say?

“Heard you offered him a spot in our unit at the emergency battalion meeting.”

Mid-sentence, the man turned, eyeing the ranks.

Subordinates stared back. Their heavy gazes spoke of thick camaraderie among men.

The man was the 0th Battalion’s Team Leader. Commander-in-Chief’s right hand—authority rivaling battalion commanders. He could speak bluntly.

“Might be overstepping, but… 0th Battalion slots go to top performers by tradition. Your call to assign otherwise, sure. But it’ll stir bigger gripes.”

– I know the rumors. I’ve got ears.

“Hits different for us. Our purpose is to be your eyes and ears.”

– Appreciate the thought, but you’re not cybernetic prosthetics. Gotta have my own eyes and ears too.

The Team Leader pressed.

“Word is you’re running separate intel sources.”

– Spit your beef direct. No proxies. Too much favoritism for Lee Taebaek—hurting 0th morale.

“…….”

– Your words got holes. Taebaek racked up insane feats. First mission heroics, no reward? No reason for him to stick around.

The Commander-in-Chief met each member’s eyes during inspection, continuing.

– Know you’re miffed inside. Voicing it? Fair.

“Yes, sir…”

– Bad timing for whining. But you know I back my own. Post-mission, proper rewards. Hang tight…

He trailed off. His robe hem fluttered faintly.

As greenhouses billowed like a lung cancer patient’s—perilously—he spun.

Where his gaze landed, blue ghostly eyes floated. They melted into dark just as their demonic owner fully emerged.

Suit-clad, intellectual look—but dissonant. Dragging a blade along the ground.

The blade: Chamado. Thick, elongated—questionably practical. Roughly 3m long, 1m wide.

“…Mu…”

One member’s lips quivered blue. Face doomed to sink.

Ten Wings Sword Master.

“…Muyachi!”

The intruder’s identity.