A fierce wind stung his eyes. Lee Taebaek rolled his dry, gritty eyeballs upward.

A sky narrowed to a single straight line. Dark silhouettes whipped past on either side. By his rough count, there were at least twenty of them. They’d scraped together quite a crowd.

“Ninja assembly.”

Many of the City’s organizations, those without the infrastructure to raise their own hounds the way megacorps did, mostly hired ninjas. Mid-tier corps or the City Government, for example, wanted them.

Fuck, which ones are they?

The problem was he had too many grudges piled up. Lee Taebaek had stirred up way too much shit.

Lee Taebaek took a thin, shallow breath.

The recoil from Red Hare vibrating through his ass pulled his mind back to reality.

At the end of the road, an escape route twinkled like a pinpoint. If he made it there, he could break through the encirclement.

Even if enemies were waiting beyond, he planned to ram straight through with Red Hare. They wouldn’t know the full extent of the bike’s freshly updated top speed.

One risk factor: whether he could even reach it. Right now, he was gripping the handlebars with only one hand.

He’d eased off the throttle, but Red Hare was still pushing 100 km/h. Too fast to rely on luck alone.

But he couldn’t switch back to both hands either. Because if the ninjas chucked a shuriken or something, he’d have to slice it away with his blade. He’d even considered popping the umbrella to block.

Letting them control his overhead vision was a last resort. If that was their plan, they’d have hurled shuriken already.

The ninjas each gripped katanas. They flashed shuriken now and then, baiting him to deploy the umbrella.

Their goal isn’t disruption. It’s killing me.

Before blades even clashed, they were already playing mind games. Classic ninjas.

“Timing’s all fucked up today.”

He’d thought it was his lucky day, but it was a flag filled with the Korean soul. Just as Lee Taebaek clicked his tongue in annoyance…

Geometric shapes formed on the windshield, and the handlebars writhed like a living thing. He panicked for a split second, but that was it. The mechanic had upgraded Red Hare’s software.

Autonomous mode must be part of those improvements. Lee Taebaek tentatively let go. Red Hare responded to its master’s faith with steady cruising.

“Fucking awesome.”

That one word was the signal flare.

The four lead ninjas accelerated. One that had been racing alongside overtook Red Hare, then abruptly dropped.

Screeeeech.

A chalkboard-scraping screech. The katana tip grazed the wall, reducing gravity’s pull. Sparks trailed the blade’s path. They shifted into a slanted posture and began wall-running.

Two pairs draped on either side. Eyes gleamed from the black voids of their full-face masks—dense optical lenses like dragonfly compound eyes. The moment Lee Taebaek’s gaze tangled with those freaky things in mid-air, one hurled a shuriken. Steel sliced wind; his blade met it. A short, sharp flick deflected it.

The thrower leaped without hesitation. Mid-motion, his head snapped back. The blade pierced his skull and exited through the crown.

He retracted the blade and immediately crouched. The corpse slammed into the windshield and tumbled rearward. Chaos ensued—a collision with the ninjas clinging to the tail.

His expanded perception slammed a blueprint into his cornea’s interior.

This time, three kicked off the pavement and leaped. Even as blades closed in, he couldn’t help but scoff. No camaraderie? A teammate just died, yet no sign of fluster. They pressed the follow-up seamlessly, as if the dead one’s utility ended there.

Shaking their emotions is pointless.

He’d planned to buff his [Mental] stat to bulldoze the numbers disadvantage. Dodged a bullet there—would’ve been fatal.

Plan B.

Not that he had a proper plan anyway. Just stab, slash, hack. Magic Power had bottomed out fighting the Saber Master ages ago. Down to fisticuffs it was.

Lee Taebaek kicked low and leaped. He landed back on the seat using only his toes for balance.

Then he swung his arm. His blade clashed with three katanas. The tangled edges shoved the trio sliding back.

Buffed Strength right before impact. Multiplied by Red Hare’s speed. He could almost feel their shock through the blades. Hard to read faces under masks, but yeah—humans should flinch. You slant-eyed bastards.

The left-side ninja’s hand twitched—going for a shuriken, probably. That instant, Red Hare veered left like it had a mind of its own. The dagger-drawer got smeared on the wall; the right pair lost balance mid-air.

“Guhk—!”

The one painting the wall red with his back let out a shrill scream. He punched. He smashed into the headlight, then the pavement.

Thud!

The ninja got mulched under the front wheel. Red Hare bucked wildly, like roaring. The shockwave toppled another.

Still, true to ninja form, he gritted through gritted teeth. It explained why every group loved hiring them. Facing them yourself made it crystal clear.

Individually they weren’t teeth-grindingly tough, but grouped up? A pain in the ass. They treated comrades like rags, and their offense-defense swaps were seamless. Tricky bastards.

But he’d been through the wringer too. Three months in this world—short or long, an ambiguous span. It had been a march of hardship that would have brought tears. So now, the ninjas who had assaulted him were in for it.

“Don’t even let your hands shake, you fucks.”

Lee Taebaek flipped up his collar with his left hand. The waist-holstered Python gleamed; muzzle flashed. Ricocheting casings clattered off walls and floor. Headshots to chin and forehead sprayed blood fountains as they dropped.

Pre-warmed muscles twitched pleasantly. His joints’ range of motion was smooth, as if oiled.

Good. Heating up.

The front obstacles were cleared. A rear attack was coming now. Ninjas wouldn’t dawdle. Obvious.

Immediately, a faint scritch-scratch came from the back—the sound of feet bracing against the wall. Sneaky as hell, ninja-style. But Lee Taebaek, hardened by battle experience, had prepared countermeasures. It took only a brief pause, just enough for one breath.

Whoosh.

He pivoted on tiptoe. The ninjas’ eyes stretched long in shock as they closed in fast.

Shoulders blurred; three of them stabbed with katanas in unison. Swift, sharp combo.

Five katanas invaded his vision.

Lee Taebaek precariously balanced on the seat, parrying every blow. Blades flashed dozens of times. A silver curtain seemed to drape between him and the ninjas. He twisted to dodge, exploited their momentum to topple them. When they faltered, he severed necks. Sliced chunks got tire-ground into mince.

The ninjas were halved. Ten left. He’d covered half the road by then.

“Crazy fucks.”

No learning curve? Or stamina drained, thinking momentum was key? They charged anyway.

“Hey, you shits. Even flies mourn more than that. You call yourselves human? No reaction to your buddies dropping?”

“…”

“Ruthless bastards.”

They didn’t blink. They didn’t retreat. Their dumb meat-wave charge was almost admirable.

Ninjas scraped walls with katanas, pursuing. Wall-running was their specialty. Time to ruin it.

Lee Taebaek spread his arms wide. Fingertips met walls; prints vanished.

Concrete turned to mush instantly. It oozed, trapping their leaps. Wall-stomping feet sank to ankles.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Python barked. One shot, one kill. Four ninjas had holes between their eyes, dangling ankle-deep.

Not content with defending, he counterattacked. Buffed [Agility] let him seize the initiative despite the numbers. Muscles expanded and contracted on cue, obeying brain commands. He buffed [Mental] for razor focus. Brain cells scorched, but watching limbs fly off made it bearable.

“You slant-eyed fuckers!”

Lee Taebaek bellowed. His voice cut through the wind and etched itself into their eardrums.

“Korea always beats Japan—that’s the national rule, you retarded shits!!”

“…”

No clue why he yelled that. Adrenaline overload, probably.

His battle cry exploded morale. The slant-eyes? Masks twitched. Gotcha. They were pissed. Let’s see how long the stoics lasted.

Two shoved aside their dead comrades and lunged. The phrase ‘death-defying’ fit them perfectly. Was the fear-processing part of their brains broken? Endless like Russian nesting dolls.

Still, numbers dropped. Twenty to six.

The last ninjas thrashed. He squeezed the trigger at the first charger. He tilted his head, dodging the bullet—then his blade plunged. The sword path slid without resistance into the center of the next one’s mouth.

The rear one was instantly dead; the dodger shuddered. Retracting, he deeply slashed the carotid. His hand clutched his throat instinctively. Blood jetted through his fingers, smearing the optical lens.

Two ninjas reflexively raised their hands to wipe the lenses hit directly. That was their final act.

Slash!

Three left. Originally four—one had bolted during the blink. Twenty total, sixteen sacrificed willingly; one human streak made sense.

The trio caught fear contagion. Pursuit speed visibly lagged—no prior fervor.

“That’s more like it, you fucks.”

Their will to fight had shattered. Lee Taebaek turned back and remounted properly.

Vroooom—!

Simultaneously, Red Hare reared its front wheel, surging. The loyal steed dove for escape.

Meanwhile, the ninjas clung spider-like to the walls, staring dumbly at the taillight vanishing into the glow.

“…”

“…”

“…”

With his escape successful, Lee Taebaek savored the joy and rewards of survival. Killing people—no, bugs—granted EXP. Games are the best.