In the blink of an eye, the roller coaster plunged into darkness. It was like dousing the overheated station with a bucket of ice water.

Screeeeech.

Lee Taebaek unlatched the safety bar and stepped out.

Jasbi came toddling over and latched onto one of his legs with a fierce hug. It was an enthusiastic welcome.

“Creator!”

She clung to him like a koala, gazing up at Lee Taebaek with her big, sparkling eyes.

“You’ve worked hard.”

“Yeah… So, what’s the situation here?”

Lee Taebaek nodded toward the Great Master. Ninjas lay sprawled at his feet, faces bulging with red veins—either knocked out cold or stone dead.

“That pervert—no, the Great Master handled them!”

As expected. While Lee Taebaek had been locked in a desperate fight for survival aboard the roller coaster, a slaughter had apparently unfolded down here on solid ground. It was downright embarrassing.

He’d given it his all, risking life and limb. Meanwhile, the Great Master had wiped out the ninjas with a casual flick of the wrist.

It was a moment that etched into his retinas just how monstrous the Ten Wings truly were.

Even if this was just a fraction of Moksanghwa’s full power channeled through her body, it was still overwhelming. No matter how affably he played the kindly old man, a Great Master was a Great Master.

That aside…

“You two already introduced yourselves?”

“I spotted him right away! I’m a capable AI, after all.”

Jasbi lifted her chin proudly. Her pumpkin mask rattled with delight, as if she were in high spirits.

“You are capable, yeah.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind if you didn’t hear that.”

As Jasbi said, the roller coaster had restarted even though operating hours had ended. But this place was an amusement park—one of the upper district’s landmarks. Any anomaly would summon the park’s own security or the City Government’s public-facing special forces unit, NAPD. They’d deploy available manpower in droves within thirty seconds, at minimum.

That hadn’t happened. Even with Rahankel dead and the ninjas crawling on the ground, no signs of impending crisis emerged.

It had to be Jasbi’s handiwork. She’d likely hacked the park’s security systems, letting Lee Taebaek roam freely. What was she thinking?

“Jasbi, why are you helping me?”

“Hmm, well.”

Jasbi poked her cheek (the dimple on her pumpkin mask) with a fingertip, tilting her head this way and that before answering.

“If I translate it roughly into human terms—”

“Humans don’t say ‘translate into human terms.’”

“Hey!”

Lee Taebaek chuckled. Jasbi brought a fist to her mouth, cleared her throat with an ahem, and continued.

“Anyway! In human terms, it’s like a baby instinctively suckling at its mother’s breast. Something like that! If a mother has maternal love, doesn’t the child have the reciprocal emotion?!”

“Why’s it always the mother in your analogies?”

The word “woman” hit like a trigger.

“Huh? No real meaning behind it~?”

“…Right.”

Lee Taebaek felt a twinge of fatigue.

It was only natural. He’d just fought an unexpected battle; his body and mind being worn to the bone was par for the course. Just then, the Great Master approached and spoke up.

“Imugi, you sure attract trouble wherever you go. Got a magnet for humans or something? And by the way—this is technically my turf. Though I suppose I’m fired after today.”

“Good riddance. Stop earning cash with Moksanghwa’s body and beg like the rest of your beggar buddies. Suits you.”

“Fetch a beggar’s bowl, and I’ll fill it a bit?”

“No.”

Lee Taebaek turned serious.

“Tsk tsk. Keep that up, and you’ll go bald. Life’s all about emptying yourself… Anyway, I won’t pry into the details. Those ninja scum don’t tail people for sport—they lack any sense of agency. They just move on someone else’s orders.”

The Great Master glanced at the sprawled ninjas and clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Martial artists despised ninjas. Their banners clashed fundamentally, and the bad blood between their homelands ran deep.

Not that dwelling on where each originated was wise. Dangerous topic—let’s skip it.

“Didn’t seem that way to me.”

Lee Taebaek tossed out a line. The Great Master narrowed his eyes at him.

“You’ve got peculiar tastes, defending the ones gunning for your life. Opened your eyes to something new?”

“Not as peculiar as yours, you perverted geezer.”

“…”

The Great Master fell silent. Lee Taebaek gave a quick rundown of the ninjas’ circumstances and the truth behind them.

Why they were licking the City Government’s boots. As he spoke, the Great Master’s expression grew subtly complex.

He won’t want to admit it.

The Great Master felt a kinship with the ninjas. The sorrow of losing one’s homeland was something you could talk about a hundred times without grasping it fully—unless you’d endured the same pain.

“So… that’s how it is.”

The Great Master grimaced bitterly. Then, abruptly, his face brightened. He cast his gaze skyward.

Vrooooom— Exhaust roared, parting the clouds left and right. Three helicopters tore through the night sky. They shone spotlights down on the trio.

Lee Taebaek squinted against the glare, Jasbi ducked behind him with a rustle, and the Great Master sighed before removing his monocle.

“Looks like they’ve arrived.”

The Great Master flicked his right hand. Threads woven from internal energy spooled out from his nails like spider silk.

“These City Government bastards really went all the way. Guess they implanted heart-rate monitors. Programmed their watchdogs so if one dies, it takes the target down with it. They’re just puppets in all but name. What a rotten dump.”

“NAPD…”

If ninjas were the City Government’s hidden blade, those guys were the heavy artillery that fired without a care for optics. They deployed when the city needed justification for violence—meaning “no bystanders, open fire.”

Evidence cleanup included.

The ninjas’ deaths were the trigger for NAPD’s arrival. They must have rigged something in their hearts, judging by the prompt response. Treated like disposable rags, literally.

The hair at his temples fluttered. His clothes fluttered in the rotor wash. But the fury blazing in his chest burned even hotter.

Ridiculous. What kind of hypocritical pivot was this? They’d been at each other’s throats just minutes ago, and now they were avenging the dead?

Emotions were more often inexplicable than not. He was pissed. Flames seemed to flicker from his eye sockets.

“I know when to step in.”

The Great Master held him back.

“I acknowledge you taking on ninjas one-against-many. But NAPD’s a different breed. And you’ve just come off a fight—push too hard, and overexertion’ll kill you before the bullets do. Don’t rely on youth too much. Conserve your stamina.”

“…”

Amid the Great Master’s voice and the propeller roar blending together, Lee Taebaek sank into thought. Jasbi’s warmth wrapped around his leg.

Then, impassively, ropes dropped from the sky, coiling on the ground like cobras.

“…Guess I’ll owe you one.”

“Call it even—I’m in the red this time too.”

“You don’t owe me anything, do you?”

The Great Master smiled, dimples forming.

“Debts of the heart rack up without you realizing. Think of it that way.”

“If you say so…”

Lee Taebaek nodded.

“How do we get out of here, though?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that!”

A pumpkin head peeked out from between Lee Taebaek’s calves. Jasbi suddenly started counting down.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Ding!”

KABOOOOOM!!

The next instant, an explosive roar shook the air.

Lee Taebaek’s eyes widened.

This rumble, this growl—it was familiar, nostalgic. His sole companion in a city that offered no solace. While those around him were rebels, killers, and corporate drones, all societal misfits, this was his one sanctuary.

Whoosh!

From behind, a red steed cleaved the air and leaped high—like a dragon ascending.

Rrrrrumble.

The moment its tires hit the ground, Red Hare pivoted on its front wheel like a compass, tracing a perfect semicircle. Positioning itself for its master, Lee Taebaek, to mount at once.

Rubber smoke filled the air.

Lee Taebaek felt a surge of emotion. Glancing at Jasbi, he saw she’d pushed her pumpkin mask up to her forehead, flashing a V-sign with a grin.

“You called it?”

Nod, nod, nod.

“Pass?”

“What do you think?”

Lee Taebaek hopped on as usual. The footpegs were stirrups, the seat his partner’s waist.

“Hop on.”

“Y-Yes…!”

Jasbi’s eyes welled with emotion as she clung tightly to Lee Taebaek’s waist.

[Patrol 37 here. Suspect anti-regime elements attempting escape. Southwest on S-Expressway!]

Urgency mounting, the special forces slid down the ropes almost like ziplining. No Wing Suits, apparently. Only a megacorp’s elite guard would pack those.

Chased by these clowns?

Lee Taebaek gripped the handlebars hard. They felt like skin. Sparks flew from Red Hare’s hood vents. He leaned forward; Jasbi curled up like a pill bug.

Rrraaaaaawr!!

Red Hare surged forward. The cops, just landing, had no time to ready themselves. Some toppled like dominoes in the wind.

Red Hare streaked away, carving a red afterimage like a wound in reality. By the time they raised their guns, it was a vanishing dot.

The Great Master let out a hollow chuckle.

“Always so flashy.”

Red blotches bloomed on her cheek—one, two, three. In seconds, dozens speckled her skin.

He glanced sideways. A machine gun’s targeting laser stabbed at him irritably.

The police landed one after another. Easily fifty of them. One pulled out a radio.

“Team Alpha, Team Alpha. Female suspected to be associate of target ‘Python.’ Awaiting orders.”

[Static. Net socket status?]

The cop narrowed his eyes to check.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

[Capture alive. If live capture proves difficult, avoid cranial strikes. We need to crack her open.]

“Roger.”

No sooner had the radio cut out than the Great Master burst into laughter—a soul-shaking cackle that made the cops grip their triggers tighter on reflex.

“Ah, Heavenly Sovereign.”

The Great Master murmured skyward.

“Have You sown upon this earth beings more vicious than Moksanghwa herself? Demonic heretics were child’s play by comparison.”

The police shouted something. Probably demands to surrender peacefully. To the Great Master, it was mere buzzing. When they leveled their guns threateningly, the Great Master deigned to pay attention.

“Can’t even gauge the one right in front of you.”

The red-eyed ninja had recognized her as a Great Master at a glance—practically gasping in awe.

But look at these fools. Even after she’d deliberately dropped her Presence Concealment, they were just mildly spooked, pressing on with their mission. Clueless that one step forward meant plummeting off a cliff to their deaths.

The Great Master let her fingers dangle. As the cops moved to fire warning shots at the ominous gesture—

She stretched her hand sideways. The corpses strewn everywhere twitched like rigor mortis had set in.

“Arise.”