Chapter 83: Companion, Human? (5)

“So you’re an AI, huh?”

“Yes.”

Jasbi bobbed her head as she ran at a brisk clip. Her short legs didn’t lag behind the Great Existence in speed one bit. She might look like a pint-sized kid on the outside, but she was the pinnacle of megacorp tech—a distillation of modern science.

“And that body’s a Siesta Android.”

“Yes, but Great Existence, sir—if I may interrupt— we should probably cut the chit-chat. I checked the CCTV, and Taebaek’s in a pinch… or not…?”

Jasbi trailed off uncertainly. Inside her pumpkin mask, footage of the battle was streaming live. She let out a low groan.

‘Is he toying with them…?’

She’d figured Taebaek was in a tough spot. That’s why she’d deliberately approached the Great Existence—playing manager at the amusement park like some pervert—and asked for his help.

But the reality was veering off from Jasbi’s calculations. The enemies were getting utterly demolished. It was a straight-up massacre parade.

Lee Taebaek was too fast for the cameras to track. The footage wasn’t just choppy—it was breaking into fragments.

‘Fast enough to brutalize state-of-the-art cameras.’

And at some point, the fog had thickened to the point where you couldn’t see an inch ahead. She could only guess from the sporadic screams that Taebaek was crushing them.

“Focus on moving for now.”

As Jasbi fell silent, the Great Existence let out a sigh and spoke.

“Thank you, Great Existence.”

“Call me the manager here.”

Jasbi bit her tongue halfway.

“Eugh, that’s creepy. No thanks.”

“……”

“No genre-drifting into that territory, got it?”

She hammered the point home to the Great Existence.

“What the hell are you on about, you little machine?”

“It happens. Anyway, I hope you don’t have some latent femininity bubbling up.”

“I’m just using this body because it’s high-spec. Keep nagging, and I’ll take it for myself.”

Jasbi recoiled in horror.

“If you’re gonna say dangerous stuff like that, just genre-drift already. Please.”

“Must be the AI talking. I haven’t a clue.”

The two “women”(?) raced against the parade traffic. The flashy scenery beyond the row of trees whipped by like a lie. The trees marked the boundary. One side was festive; this side was desperate.

Jasbi thought as she ran.

‘Taebaek’s even more of a mystery the more I learn.’

Without any preamble, she’d dropped the magic words “Lee Taebaek,” and the Great Existence had bolted into action. He’d hear the details on the way. True to her high-performance AI nature, Jasbi had boiled it down to the essentials, and the Great Existence hadn’t questioned their veracity.

Jasbi glanced at the Great Existence. She—no, he—charged ahead with a single strand of hair in his mouth.

‘Messing with the Ten Wings…’

This was beyond even Jasbi’s calculations—an utter enigma. She’d thought she’d modeled human psychology pretty well.

Gulp.

It was the effect of the freshly acquired 「Concept: Divinely-Possessed Liar (True)」. Lies originating from him stayed potent even passed through others’ mouths.

A conman’s perfect power. If its wielder ever found out, the whole city would flip. Not that Lee Taebaek wasn’t already Robber (True), Psychopath (True), and Cult Leader (True).

Meanwhile, the Great Existence had his own thoughts brewing. He couldn’t quite buy the bit about “Megacorp developing androids.” Commercial viability was just too low to swallow hook, line, and sinker.

But now he had no choice but to believe. The proof was running neck-and-neck with him. He’d snuck peeks along the way, and this kid was definitely not human.

Not that she was a puppet like him. 「Puppetry」 was Great Existence Hong Geolgae’s exclusive gift.

And gifts were unique in this universe—one per person, tailor-made presents just for them.

‘That viper was telling the truth.’

She—Hong Geolgae—let out a small sigh.

The android slated for release in maybe five years was already out? Shocking.

But what sent chills down his spine more was that Lee Taebaek had spoken nothing but the truth. He’d just let his curiosity get the better of him and played along, but that viper had upheld his righteousness. Ah, how long had it been…?

The Great Existence was a jianghu man through and through. A white path warrior, no less.

When he saw someone who honored righteousness, his heart raced. Blood surged back into veins gone slack like worn rubber bands from worldly wear. A jianghu heart pounded like twin mallets.

‘Of course. Gotta help.’

That was why he’d accepted Jasbi’s plea without hesitation. And so Lee Taebaek had set fire to the hearts of these two beings. It was just a shame they weren’t human—or even rational.

“You’re not getting any weird ideas, are you?”

“Oh my, you rascal. What are you saying—!!”

“…Urk…!”

Jasbi clamped her mouth shut. Even without a digestive system, her gut churned.

“Haa, haa.”

Lee Taebaek felt a touch of exhaustion creeping in. With Bullet Time, buffs, and nerfs all cranked to max, it was no wonder. A hunch whispered it was some “external factor,” but whatever.

He shook his head and poured power into his gaze. The ninjas approached like hyenas encroaching on a lion’s turf. Over ten dead by his hand, and they didn’t flinch.

They even used their comrades’ sacrifices as stepping stones to regroup. They didn’t seem calm, but…

‘At least their eyes are cold.’

Same thought as last time: ninjas were fucking annoying.

‘They don’t know the meaning of giving up.’

The leader, Commander Rahankel, egged his men on. Even with five underlings sliced up, he hung back.

“…Python…”

“You rush me, then bitch to me about it?”

“We’re just carrying out our mission!!”

“And I’m fighting for my life here?”

“You bastard…!!”

He was biding his time, bottling up his killing intent. Waiting for the moment Taebaek tired.

‘Need that bastard to move.’

You could cut out all the tumors you wanted.

But you had to uproot the host to end it.

Step.

Lee Taebaek planted a foot on the corpse mound and stood tall. He counted the visible foes.

Five in sight. But that was surface level—probably a dozen more lurking in the shadows.

‘No wonder I can’t quit swearing.’

He felt the ninjas’ bullshit deep in his bones once more. Lee Taebaek vowed: you ten thousand pricks, I’ll nerf you or erase you from existence.

‘Time to ease off the swordplay.’

Buy time for the nerf and buff cooldowns.

“You slant-eyed fucks.”

“Not all of us are Japanese, Python.”

Rahankel grimaced in reply. He’d tried to brush it off but couldn’t resist biting back. “Slant-eyes” was a reverse scale for ninjas.

“You do Japanese martial arts, curse in Japanese—what else would you be? Quit throwing blades like pussies from afar and learn some taekwondo. Tae-kwon-do~”

“Don’t get rattled—! It’s all a ploy—!”

“You outnumber me and still get wrecked—coincidence?”

The ninjas stirred. One piped up as spokesman.

“That’s not even taekwondo you’re using!”

“When a Korean throws a punch, it’s taekwondo. Eat some cabbage, and boom—it’s kimchi. Ever tasted a Korean’s spice?”

“Sophistry. Everyone, stay sharp—he’s nuts.”

Lee Taebaek cackled.

“Took you long enough, morons.”

“Don’t engage! Don’t take the bait!”

“Yelling means you already bit.”

Amid it all, he expanded his senses to a 100-meter radius. Suspicious shapes snagged in his net.

He focused harder. Ninjas vaulted from shadows, hands on the ground.

BOOM!

The fireworks were still going. With each burst, the shadows thickened.

‘Strategy shift.’

Lee Taebaek whipped around.

“Back to the wall.”

He bolted for the rollercoaster, and the ninjas hesitated a beat before giving chase.

“Don’t let him escape—!!”

This time, even Commander Rahankel—who’d seemed rooted—scrambled to join.

Lee Taebaek reached the coaster in a flash. A switch lever sat right by the first car. He yanked it deep like snapping a stick. Lights flared, and it lurched to life.

[To the land of fantasy~ Everland~]

He hopped into the lead car, and the ninjas piled in one per car, panting. They stood on the seats. Safety bars? Luxury they couldn’t afford.

≡◀↔■↔■↔■↔■↔■↔■↔▶≡

The rollercoaster accelerated. Wheels clattered on rails, jolting at intervals. It hit its peak fast with them aboard.

Whooooosh.

Lee Taebaek stood back to the wind. Just a few meters up, and his ears were popping.

He closed his eyes, then opened them. The massive park entrance and crowds looked tiny.

He tore his gaze downward and hurled it forward. Ninjas drew blades and tags, closing in one by one.

“Now it’s a bit fairer, right?”

Nerf and buff for me only. One slip, and he’d be the one tumbling to his death.

From here, pure melee. Numbers meant nothing. Let’s weigh our weight classes on the scales and see who bursts first, you slant-eyed fucks.

“Come at me one by one.”

By then, the coaster crested the top. One way to put it: seconds from freefall.

“I’ll send you off equally.”

The center of gravity tipped back hard. Gravity tugged. The first guy charged like a waterfall, blade thrusting, defying the pull.

Lee Taebaek pulled his shoulders two fist-widths back. A pretty angle entered his sightline. A deep blue line inviting the stab—the carotid.

Snap!

The ninja with the cracking sound slammed the rail and tumbled earthward. Before the splat, Lee Taebaek’s torso pitched forward.

≡◀↔■↔■↔■↔■↔■↔■↔▷≡

Then he stomped. Perfect timing—the coaster’s vertical drop made it look like a stationary jump. He didn’t miss the Python shot either.

Bang. The third-car ninja twitched. The train neared ground, granting a split-second mobility. Lee Taebaek darted behind him, slicing the Achilles with his blade tip. The ninja crumpled. The coaster ditched him—head grazed, legs limp—and soared.

≡◀↔■↔■↔■↔■↔■↔□↔▷≡

One car.

≡◀↔■↔■↔■↔■↔□↔□↔▷≡

Another.

≡◀↔■↔■↔■↔□↔□↔□↔▷≡

Mechanically slashing a few more times.

≡◀↔■↔□↔□↔□↔□↔□↔▷≡

The coaster navigated a few more twists and hit the peak again. Lee Taebaek wiped his eye sockets. His fierce gaze flashed through the blood.

One second. That’s all the flat ground time granted to Lee Taebaek and Rahankel. Rahankel was afraid. His heartbeat thrummed in his eardrums.

But flight wasn’t an option.

It was sixteen stories up anyway. Dodging here meant no face left for his dead men.

Rahankel swallowed, then slowly opened his mouth.

“…Python. What the hell are you?”

Lee Taebaek didn’t answer right away. He just lifted his chin to stare at the clouds and moon.

An instant. A ground-launched firework stabbed the full moon and bloomed like an umbrella.

The night sky’s blossoms traced Lee Taebaek’s silhouette in a faint halo. As if—

“Operator.”

A halo.