“Give me the crutch.”

I took back the crutch from the soldier waiting outside the door and tried to walk on my own. But I collapsed before I could even take a proper step. My leg felt paralyzed, completely devoid of strength. Of all times, why now? If it comes to it, I’ll just have to use a potion.

– Squeak, squeee.

Lifnil flitted about in a panic before landing on my shoulder. His soft down rubbed against the back of my neck as if leaning in comfort. That bastard. Really, when there’s even a kid involved, he pulls this kind of crap.

“A parachute brat promoted through bloodline, family, and awakening perks. Ever done proper shovel work in the army?”

Probably not. Even as I said it, I felt a twinge of envy. The world is unfair. The privileged ones become S-Ranks.

“You could just ask with words instead of squeezing someone’s leg like that. Try this: ‘Perhaps you’re from Korea? Do you know Korea? Han Yujin?’”

Instead of answering, Cho Hwaun grabbed my arm and helped me up. It only happened to me, but the method itself was effective. If it had been Yuhyun or Yerim, they would never have tolerated it. Cho Hwaun practically dragged me as we moved again. I felt eyes on my back, but they disappeared as we turned the corner.

“Han Yuhyun, Park Yerim, Seong Hyunjae. Are there any other S-Rank Hunters who’d come to rescue you? Ones who could singlehandedly destroy Nanjing Airport?”

So basically, he was excluding Noah. Moon Hyunah and Kim Seonghan were still active in Korea without going into hiding. The only one left was Chief Song Taewon, but it seemed he hadn’t even considered the possibility. Probably assuming that Song would naturally follow government and Association orders, since he’d been such a faithful public servant.

“Well, I was in Japan… um, never mind.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. In front of a staircase, Cho Hwaun let go of my hand. I staggered, barely managing to steady myself against the wall.

“In the end, the result won’t change.”

He said coldly, then walked off on his own. That bastard, seriously.

‘…More than that, he’s way too confident.’

Four airports were already paralyzed. And even among China’s S-Rank Hunters, there were casualties. And yet he acted like it wouldn’t be a problem even if more Korean S-Rank Hunters showed up.

‘Is there something more?’

Relying solely on Yun Yun’s long-distance teleportation didn’t seem convincing. If they were just planning to push through with superior numbers, they should feel at least a bit uneasy by now. Damn it, what is it? No, even so, if I join up with the kids and give them buffs, there won’t be a problem. Even SS-Rank monsters were wiped out by Yuhyun alone.

Which is why I need a cigarette.

Going back to Hwang Rim was a problem, not because it was hard to walk, but because I didn’t want to run into whoever came looking for me again. In the end, I just sat down right where I was. If I saw any soldier passing by, I’d just tell them to carry me.

‘…He didn’t come just to check the situation.’

Why make it so obvious? Well, he probably had to show something if he wanted to confirm whether I was freed from the skill or not. Would he have pulled me out anyway if I hadn’t asked to be let go? If he still had Grace, it was entirely possible.

In any case, I was immensely relieved it wasn’t Yuhyun or Yerim, but I still felt oddly unsettled.

Just then, footsteps approached. It was Hwang Rim. I reached out toward him as he looked down at me. He reached out as if to help me up, and I… didn’t slap his hand away. I just didn’t move at all. S-Ranks really are annoyingly smug.

“Not that. The thing you promised.”

“And after you screamed like that.”

“Who told you to knead someone else’s leg?”

Hwang Rim smiled with his eyes and handed me a cigarette case. Then he tucked me under his arm. As I dangled there, I opened the case and checked the cigarettes. This should be plenty. I’d need to stay sane for several hours—to escape, reunite, and use skills. I was already worried about what excuse I’d give the kids.

“Why are you asking for cigarettes?”

“Because I just want to smoke.”

“No way. But I can’t figure it out. In your current state, it’d do more harm than good. There’s not enough to tempt those around you either.”

Of course, he’d never guess I intended to use it to break free of Park Hayul’s skill. That would only make him lower his guard even more.

“Let’s just say it’s to endure that prick Cho’s rotten personality. But still, why isn’t anyone worried when all the nearby airports have been taken out?”

“Because they don’t need to be.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a reason.”

Damn it, what is it? He’s making me feel uneasy on purpose. But that didn’t mean I could just sit here forever. One person already came in. Next time, it might be Yuhyun or Yerim. I told them to wait, but how long would they actually hold back?

Time for a forced breakthrough.

Crack—five fingers sank into the tail wing of a plane. The flat piece of torn metal was flung into the air. The tail wing spun as it flew, colliding with the body of a combat helicopter. A deafening explosion followed as the chopper spun out of control like a dragonfly caught in a storm and crashed. Flames and smoke surged up in an instant.

Nearly half of Nanjing Airport was already covered in signs of destruction. Fire spread across cracked and gouged runways, and the aircraft were damaged to the point where repairs weren’t even conceivable.

“S–Stop this at once!”

“My objective is the paralysis of airport facilities.”

The blunt voice repeated the same words that had already been spoken several times. Heavy footsteps moved forward, ignoring the soldiers blocking the way. The hem of a dark gray coat fluttered in the wind, mixed with acrid smoke. Normally, it would be considered high-grade S-Rank equipment, but this was just a temporary outfit for disguise.

The soldiers looked at the approaching man with fearful eyes. He hadn’t overwhelmed his surroundings with flashy skills or committed any brutal slaughter. Instead, he was steadily and methodically expanding his zone of destruction, even advising evacuation as he went.

In a way, his demeanor could have seemed easy to underestimate. But despite advancing so slowly, there was no way to stop the wave—however slow—that was visible in his eyes.

A calamity that ends in an instant, or one that slowly closes in. Which is more frightening depends on the person. But the soldiers here could only name the latter. If it all ended in a flash, leaving no time to recognize or react, there would be no time to fear.

Yet this man was mechanically carrying out his task. The soldiers, bound by military law, had no choice but to confront him, even knowing it was futile. It felt like being a bug charging at the window of a massive bulldozer clearing a forest.

“…Damn it!”

Even knowing it was pointless, the soldiers—Hunters among them—rushed in. Blades imbued with various skills sliced through the air. When a sword aimed for his neck, Song Taewon didn’t even glance at it—he simply raised his arm and deflected it. Using his wire-wrapped forearm like a shield, he caught a thrusting spear with his bare hand.

Thud! The spear’s owner flew backward like a tossed pebble from a single kick. The spear spun half a turn from Song Taewon’s fingertips. As he stepped forward, he infused it with mana and hurled it with force.

Thwreeeek!

The spear sliced through the air and slammed into a distant airplane. A beat later, the massive aircraft exploded into pieces with a deafening boom. It was a skill that rapidly boosted the weapon’s power to its explosive limit—a skill Song Taewon, even possessing it, rarely used. Not only were his own weapons valuable, but Korean Hunters’ equipment was also considered a national asset.

Many of his skills, for some reason, had the effect of nullifying equipment and opposing skills. They weakened awakened enemies and their gear, making them more prone to destruction, and even included techniques to permanently break items beyond repair.

“Stand down.”

After a brief warning, Song Taewon moved again. Only a few planes and ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the remnants of a runway—more than half destroyed—remained. He charged through the hesitating soldiers. One wire-wrapped hand grabbed a blade and bent it with overwhelming force. Before the soldier could react, his wrist snapped with a sharp crack. At the same time, Song bent his arm and slammed an elbow into the soldier’s jaw from below.

Snatching the fallen sword, Song Taewon infused it with mana, just like he had with the spear, and hurled it toward another undamaged aircraft. Without even checking whether it landed, he pivoted smoothly—his foot spinning with surprising grace. His fist shattered a spear shaft, and his raised heel came down like a hammer on a shield covered in skill enhancements.

Smash! The shield embedded itself into the thick special concrete as he crushed it underfoot, stepping over it to grab a Defense-type Hunter’s face with one large hand.

“Guh!”

The Hunter’s head, hardened by a defensive skill, slammed directly into another soldier’s face. Using the Defense-type Hunter like a blunt weapon, Song Taewon threw him at the second soldier, then lifted the longsword that had fallen from the latter’s crushed hand with a flick of his foot. The blade gleamed as it flipped through the air. He caught it cleanly and hurled it at another aircraft.

All of this happened in an instant.

Song Taewon pulled the shield free, detonated the remaining intact aircraft, and walked toward the last one left. The only sounds around him were those of burning. Occasionally, loud bangs erupted as something else exploded.

As he walked in silence, he suddenly stopped. A ringtone rang from inside his coat. In the middle of the chaos, he pulled out a phone without a single crack on its screen and answered it. He expected a familiar voice immediately. But on the other end, there was only silence.

“…”

Song Taewon’s expression hardened at the unfamiliar silence. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

[I heard the news.]

Only after a long pause was the silence broken.

“…One remains. What about your side?”

[Well.]

A dry chuckle came through softly. Song Taewon felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. He tried not to imagine the worst, but human imagination was a nasty thing—dragging up a viscous discomfort. Why the hesitation to explain? And why that laugh—a type he had never heard before?

[Apparently, it has to be midnight. They say it can’t be done before then. And destroy the phone.]

The call ended, and Song Taewon crushed the phone in his hand. The shards scattered to the ground but hadn’t yet reached his toes when his body vanished from where he stood. Scccrraape—part of the last remaining airplane’s fuselage screeched across the runway as it caught fire.

Splash—The phone sank into the lake with a soft sound. Startled by the disturbance, a sleeping fish leapt out of the water, then quickly dove deep beneath the surface.

“This lodging won’t be very comfortable, Brother Chu.”

A light voice came from behind. Hwang Rim leapt up the steps in a single bound, smiling.

“The airport’s paralyzed, but it’s not like the hotels in Nanjing and Hefei are closed. Everyone else has already left.”

“For an important deal, there are still things I haven’t received. So I figured I’d stay another day and observe while I’m at it.”

“Gi Seungsoo will take quite a while. Or are you expecting something else?”

Hwang Rim approached with large strides and held out a cigarette.

“Our breeder seemed to be quite fond of it. You did a fine job.”

His eyes, colored differently from their original hue, narrowed slightly in amusement. A faint red light glimmered in the darkness, and ash dropped softly at his feet.

“Personally, I’d like to see you more often going forward.”

“If the deal ends peacefully, that may well happen.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to treat the breeder nicely.”

Hwang Rim flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the lake. The brief flicker of light soon vanished.

“Oh, and. I think it’s about time you wrapped up digging around the American side.”

Not that it’s really any of my business.With that, Hwang Rim turned away. Chu Suun stared at his back for a moment, then glanced down at the watch on his wrist. A little past 9 o’clock. Today, the ticking of the hands felt unusually slow.

“I told you, he’s not scary.”

Despite Park Yerim’s words, Goblin couldn’t bring herself to approach and only circled from a distance. Goblins avoided not only S-Rank Hunters but even A-Ranks. That’s why even messages for Han Yujin had to be left at a distance and relayed that way.

“S-Ranks are scary.”

“Yeah, especially that one.”

“This one’s scary too, but that one’s scarier.”

The goblins whispered among themselves, sneaking glances at Han Yuhyun who silently followed behind them.

“It’s Kim Seobang, but it doesn’t feel like Kim Seobang.”

“He’s not Kim Seobang, he’s Han Seobang. Not married, so he’s Han Doryeong. Then am I Park Nangja?”

“Nope, he’s Little Kim Seobang.”

“Big Kim Seobang!”

“Middle Kim Seobang!”

“I like Middle Kim Seobang!”

“The puppy’s cute too!”

“Scary but cute! So black!”

The giggling goblins came to a stop at the lakeside. Night had deepened, and the lake was as dark as the sky. A sliver of moon floated gently on the surface, swaying slowly. Then—splash—a soft sound.

– Kkyureureuk!

A small head covered in blue scales suddenly popped up. The baby water dragon glanced around, then looked at Park Yerim and let out a soft cry.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep