Chapter 64: Person of the Hour, Taebaek Ri (1)

Lee Taebaek kept spreading out his senses even after escaping the narrow road.

No enemies snagged in the net yet. Looks like they figured twenty would be plenty.

Lucky break. If the shadowy backers had rated him higher and sent a hundred assassins… Chilling thought.

“Survived the Ten Wings Sword Master only to nearly lose my head to those slant-eyed bastards the same day.”

Lee Taebaek muttered with a hollow chuckle devoid of warmth. The ones who dispatched the ninjas surely hadn’t underestimated him. Each was an elite warrior with a low failure rate.

Even he had to bust his ass to shake them off. When the enemy is top-tier, the one who faced them gets way more cred testifying to it.

That let him state it with confidence.

Ninjas were fucking infuriating opponents. Back in the game, calling someone “playing like an X” was high praise, and he’d ground his teeth bloody cursing through that hellish slog against them.

‘Only a handful of outfits can spare twenty such ninjas.’

When he’d first clashed with them, he’d pegged it as Lukaken Pharmaceuticals’ remnants. They had the deepest grudge, after all.

Gang Alliance? Disbanded hours ago, plus the Ten Wings Sword Master was on a purge, so off the suspect list.

But mulling it over, he concluded not Lukaken. They were marked by the megacorps. And ninjas never piss off megacorps.

“…Suspect narrows to one.”

The City Government.

Forgotten grudges bloomed fresh in memory. His crew had offed several officials during the Brain Prison breakout. Not just killed—made examples of them, twice as brutal.

No direct kills by him among them, yet somehow the public pinned the massacre on him. Even the 9th Battalion’s hits got tacked onto his tally as (+1).

He was the talk of the town. Look—even now, mid-ride, folks craning out windows to gawk at Lee Taebaek.

“At this rate, I’m a walking wide-area debuff.”

Red Hare shot across the four-lane elevated highway. It weaved masterfully through the surging traffic.

This was the plan: twist his path to District 31 like climbing a ladder. The denser the crowds, the more vehicles to blend with, the easier to shake any tails.

Even the City Government couldn’t go slashing in broad daylight. Too many eyes. Hell, even megacorps watch the populace.

Any group’s power stems from the people.

People band together into organizations; those build national strength. The more unease the powers-that-be stir, the more folks bail on the city. That’d gut the megacorps’ prime market. Androids and AIs? Megacorp products—producers and suppliers, not consumers.

Lake City touted democracy. But reining in ambition proved tough. Megacorps and City Government frothed to scrap shallow democracy for total control. Vulgarly put, they were thrashing in panic.

“Player was supposed to block that in the original scenario. But things are veering off.”

Events unfolding too fast. This was five years pre-main story, yet megacorp endgame loomed. The event horizon had advanced.

“Driving me nuts.”

His head was a jumble. Mutters spilled more often. In novels, protagonists doing it screamed chuunibyou cringe—but living it, he got it.

“This is how you sort your thoughts, huh.”

Cool breeze kissed his cheek. Fine weather. The mental reset clicked immediate next steps into place.

Not overthrowing megacorps or grand nation-scale shit.

Literal right now what to do.

Tssshhh—

Lee Taebaek affixed the mask to his face. Internal air sucked out, venting steam.

‘They’ve pinned my location—means Hundred-Fold Sect’s exposed too.’

Why City Government hadn’t spotted him till now? Their mindset. Other reasons too, but this was biggest.

Analogy: their sight like eagles, hunting gazelles on plains. Sewer rats? Beneath notice. Now those rats crouched low and slipped into the sewers.

Meant they’d ramp up the hunt. Prior ninjas were the warning shot—real start now. Fucking hell. Thought Gang Alliance wipe gave breathing room, now next boss pops up no respite.

Suddenly his view flooded passionate red. Solar hue.

“Buddy.”

He stroked the hood fondly.

“To the old Stiletto Club—now Hundred-Fold Sect Branch 1.”

The engine snarled viciously.

Grrrumble—groooowl—!

Red Hare seemed to query ideal speed, gauging its master’s intent. Lee Taebaek found the thought so endearing he burst out laughing.

“As fast as you can haul ass.”

Per command, headlights blazed crimson. Then, back to the sun, it leaped high.

Thud, thump.

Landing on the adjacent car’s roof, it rocketed like a beam. Roofs varied by vehicle height, path jagged.

From dented cars, drivers piled out, hurling curses at Red Hare’s taillights.

Yet Lee Taebaek was thrilled. Half a day ago, nearly died to Ten Wings Sword Master. Fresh off massacring ninjas too.

Still.

“Time for a new ride—!!”

Laughter creased his eyes.

Petty joy amid the wreckage.

Just one wish.

May Hundred-Fold Sect faithful hold strong against the ninjas. Then it’d be perfect.

Same moment.

Yellow tape cordoned the street Lee Taebaek fled. Beyond police line, reporters shoved cameras; City Government cops blocked them in endless loop.

Inside the street, air hung gloomy and still. A man with badges pinned surveyed slowly. His face somber overall. Eyes quivering rage. Blood pooled. Bone shards and flesh flecks crunched underfoot like gravel. Even picking gutsiest janitors wouldn’t cut it. Mission failure’s toll was that gruesome.

“Slipped away, huh…”

The man’s name: Rahankel. Rank: Commander.

Hero among City Government police, ninja who clawed from dog to this post, greatest ninja of the era.

“…Python.”

Rahankel’s voice bubbled fury. Grudge with Python sparked at Brain Prison breakout. Python massacred officials at the execution show, sweet-talked One-Man Thousand Kill Kang Hyeonseong into Resistance enlistment.

“Slippery as his name—a snake.”

From on high—even above City Government head—they’d ordered Rahankel to bag Python.

Hunting him took real sweat. Scoured upper city. Never dreamed Resistance HQ lurked below.

Exact spot still unknown. City half Korea’s size—this ocean, nabbing one guy? Near impossible. Endured superiors’ nagging.

Rahankel never quit. Ninja patience ran deep. He sifted suspects resembling Python.

Then stalked footprints obsessively. Finally, Rahankel and crew nailed the real Python.

Lee Taebaek’s main haunt.

“Sorry, leader… no, Commander.”

Rahankel rose after closing a corpse’s eyes by hand. Gaze from dead shifted to living. Three survivors doffed goggles, bowed heads.

“Sixteen bodies, but only three of you. Where’s the rest.”

Rahankel grilled stiffly.

“One fled.”

“The youngest, right. Makes sense. First real combat for him, probably.”

“Yes. But he’s ninja too. And he bolted. Say the word—we’ll track and handle now.”

“Nah.”

Rahankel shook his head.

“Bad luck on first gig. Upper brass won’t let mid-mission deserters slide anyway. Save your energy.”

“Same for us, isn’t it, leader? Life’s better thanks to you… but to megacorps, we’re disposable hounds. Rabbit hunted, dog gets stewed; fail the hunt, boiled alive.”

“Scared?”

One ninja peeled hood like flaying skin. He dodged Rahankel’s eyes, hesitated, then nodded hard.

“Yeah, honestly terrified. Python? Scary too. But his personal might. Us? Megacorps scare us. The fallen ones charged to their deaths fearing megacorps.”

He licked lips.

“Python’s a target from up top. But megacorps terrify more. Watching you take their shit daily guts me.”

“Our choice—all of us. To survive ninja in jianghu-riddled city, no other way. They promised: finish this, ninja autonomous zone in the city.”

“I see…”

Subordinate hooded up resignedly. Rahankel asked:

“Hundred-Fold Sect’s cult leader—Python suspect too. Status?”

“Squad dispatched to their branch. Picked top talent since it’s a group. Any resistance, they’ll clean quiet.”

“Good.”

Rahankel glanced past police line. Reporter’s camera caught sun, flashed.

His hand moved instant. Shuriken drawn, he lunged at the ninja.

“L-Leader…”

Blood dripped down the shuriken. Pinned atop subordinate, Rahankel whispered:

“Play dead till janitors come. Slip out mixed with bodies. Faked IDs and accounts ready—anywhere but city, you’ll live fine.”

“…!”

Yanked nape closer.

“Autonomous zone secured, I’ll call you back. Till then, stick with these guys. And don’t even dream revenge on Python.”

“…No feelings for targets.”

“Learned well—whoever taught you.”

Commander Rahankel smiled sadly; reporters snapped the scene frantically.

Hundred-Fold Sect Branch 1 perimeter.

Black-hooded figures lay in ambush, presence concealed. They peeked eyes-only from alleys, watching.

Front gate: a boy swept with broom. Broad shoulders oddly dainty in the chore.

Ninja pulled head back. Four ninjas braced fists to ground, awaiting orders.

“Civilian, nothing special. Infiltrate straight through main gate.”

“Encounters?”

“If not ideal, kill.”

“Yes.”

“And—”

Sudden presence chilled spines. Too late to react.

“What’re you punks?”

Ban Lionheart. Broom slung staff-like over shoulder, looming down at ninjas.

Ninja’s pupils screeched. Breached concealment and detection? This slack-looking brat?

“Die—!”

Broom sliced words dead.

Ban swung. Ninja’s head planted into brick. Limbs twitched, slumped.