Yun was furious.
Understandably so. This wasn’t just defying me—it was defying my superior’s orders. And there was no way they didn’t know who my superior was. They must have thought Yun wouldn’t find out about this incident.
Either way, this man was never the type to just let things slide.
Yun kicked Dawson in the stomach as the man tried to get up.
Thud!
“Put your head down.”
A normal person would’ve died from that.
Even a Badger could’ve had their organs ruptured from the impact. Dawson rolled on the ground, groaning in agony.
He didn’t look like he was in any condition to put his head down...
I slowly stood up.
At the same moment, Yun grabbed someone by the back of the head and slammed their face into the ground.
“You too. Put it down.”
And who’s this one now?
“Did you think I wouldn’t see this?”
Ah.
That was the one who shoved me earlier.
Both senior members now had their heads pressed against the asphalt.
We were in the middle of a ruined city.
The heavy silhouette of collapsed buildings loomed through the thick darkness. Towering structures, cracked pavement, an overturned SUV, and a shopping cart whose origin was anyone’s guess.
Once, it must have been a busy street.
Now it only exhaled the grim atmosphere of an apocalyptic film. I took a deep breath of the fallen city’s air. The faint smell of paint lingered somewhere on the street.
The seniors had their foreheads on the rough asphalt, hands clasped behind their backs.
Pitiful.
“As you can see,” Yun spoke, his voice still carrying irritation and anger,
“I’m the squad leader this time.”
Right.
Each mission had a designated squad leader. When I went outside the Core to avoid Jaeyeon, Richard had been the one in charge. During the Colosseum mission, it had been Ricardo.
And this time, it was Choi Yun.
I’d seen it on the hologram floating above the Portal Zone just minutes ago. That must be why the Personnel Director had been so annoyed during the assignment.
Yun’s low voice continued.
“We’re the only ones in Zone 14.”
He’s really angry.
“The good thing about being outside the Core,” he added, “is that there’s no one watching. Don’t you agree?”
The seniors kept their heads down.
No one here was stupid enough not to understand what he meant.
Yun looked down at the two with their heads pressed to the ground, then turned his head away.
“Everyone, drop and sleep position.”
Collective punishment.
Without complaint, the seniors dropped flat to the ground.
I was bending down to follow when my superior grabbed me by the back of the neck.
“You—stand over there.”
“Yes?”
That’ll make me look even worse, though.
The thought flashed briefly, followed by another: So what if it does?
There was no point trying to earn favor from people who treated newcomers like this.
Without arguing, I stepped aside.
Yun turned sharply toward the prone seniors and began giving orders in a flat, emotionless voice. I clasped my hands behind my back and watched as they obeyed—front, back, up, down.
The punishment ended quickly and violently.
Yun finished it off by slamming his boot into the back of the two insubordinates’ heads.
“Ah~ I was supposed to stop that, huh.”
The rest of the seniors scrambled to their feet.
Among them, a tall, well-built man approached, rubbing his neck.
“Didn’t know... Sorry about that. I’m slow with this sort of thing.”
I stared at him blankly.
He wore a helmet with the visor down, hiding his face, but his voice was unmistakably male. Clear, open tone—no malice or inferiority in it.
I kept my gaze fixed on him.
“Ah, can’t see my face, huh?”
The man clicked his visor open.
Bright blue eyes appeared.
“Sorry. Forgot that showing one’s face is considered polite.”
Even as he said it, he didn’t look like he planned to take off the helmet.
And his eyes—barely blinked.
Eyes just as sharp and fierce as my superior’s.
“Leonard-sunbae?”
“Huh? How’d you know?”
As expected.
I thought so—same breed as Yun. I smiled softly as he blinked in surprise, as if amazed I’d recognized him at all.
Why were there so many of this kind around me?
After dealing with Colton and Yun, I’d developed an unfortunate knack for recognizing people with antisocial personality disorders.
And one was already too many.
The sociopathic senior greeted me cheerfully.
“Next time something like this happens, I’ll try to step in, alright? Sorry about today.”
“No, sir. Your words are more than enough.”
“Move out.”
Yun’s voice cut off the conversation.
“Skip Zone 10. Head to Zone 7. Grab a bike.”
Several motorcycles were parked along the edge of the road.
Not left here, clearly—they must’ve been delivered from HQ through a Portal. Same model I’d seen at the Library of Beginnings.
As I turned toward the bikes, someone suddenly darted across my field of vision.
“Here it is, sir!”
A senior had already parked a bike in front of Yun.
“Please ride, sir!”
Impressive.
I couldn’t do that if I tried. I admired his speed and eagerness as I headed for another bike.
Then a voice came at my back.
“Why so slow?”
It was the senior who’d shoved me earlier.
Incredible recovery rate.
Too tired to argue, I answered plainly, “My apologies.”
“Hey, rookie! Since when do you take your own bike first, huh?”
The same senior who’d just offered Yun his bike turned and shouted at me.
“You’re supposed to bring one to your seniors first and take the last one!”
Ah.
So that’s the tone now.
I got off the bike I’d just mounted and, smiling, offered it to the approaching senior.
Now I really understood why my superior had complained to the Personnel Director.
“My thinking was shallow.”
“Don’t make the same mistake again.”
He jumped onto the bike and rode over to Yun.
My superior was already ready to go, listening through comms.
That brown-noser probably thought Yun wouldn’t hear his scolding. If Yun had been listening, he’d have pretended to be the kind mentor type.
Either way, I didn’t drop my polite smile.
“Clueless brat,” muttered the senior who’d told me I was too slow earlier as he climbed onto his own bike.
“Gets a little attention and forgets his place.”
Everyone mounted up.
Things moved fast. Yun didn’t waste time; the moment he confirmed everyone was on their bikes, he took off.
True to form, there were no additional explanations.
We followed him, roaring through the ruined city.
Broken asphalt, toppled utility poles, stalled cars cluttering the road—it wasn’t easy riding.
True to the B Zone’s reputation, Creatures were everywhere.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Shots rang out as Badgers cleared the path.
Most of the Creatures we simply ignored. Yun at the lead didn’t bother with them, and everyone mirrored his movements. I killed what I could as I followed, watching the man tear through the city and feeling a quiet awe.
He really was extraordinary.
When would I ever be able to tear a piece of that man’s shadow?
Cold night air whipped against my cheek. The roar of engines swallowed the broken road. I burst through a giant slug crawling onto the street and swerved sharply.
Following the others, I slipped between a bus and a truck blocking the path—
Then slammed the brakes.
SCREEEEECH!
“Ahhh!”
One of the seniors had fallen on the road.
I yanked the brakes desperately, skidding sideways to a stop by inches.
Wow.
A little closer and I would’ve run him over.
Heart pounding, I looked down.
He’d crashed.
Wreckage from the smashed bike was scattered across the pavement.
Panting, I managed to speak.
“My apologies.”
We had to recover quickly and move.
“Get on behind me.”
The senior sprang up and climbed on without a word.
I restarted the bike. Of course, Yun didn’t wait for us. He was already far ahead. We sped up to close the distance.
The speed climbed fast.
We flew over the twisted remains of the fallen bike.
“Hey, don’t go so fast!”
The senior’s voice trembled as he clung to my waist, but I ignored him.
“If you ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) keep this up, we’ll die before we catch up!”
Slowing down would lead to the same outcome.
Getting left behind in a place swarming with Creatures meant we wouldn’t last long anyway.
No need to say that aloud. I focused instead on catching up to the others, pushing the throttle.
We finally settled in just behind Leonard’s bike.
We didn’t stop until we reached Zone 7.
***
Upon arrival, Yun dismounted.
“Find somewhere we can handle the incoming Creatures.”
He disappeared into the darkness, gun in hand.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
He’s consistently stingy with explanations, no matter who it is.
I snorted quietly, watching my superior melt into the shadows.
We were now in Zone 7. We hadn’t been told why we’d come here instead of Zone 5, or what exactly we were supposed to do.
Still, he could’ve at least said where he was going.
I stared into the dark where Yun had vanished.
Creatures lurked everywhere.
They hadn’t approached yet, but I could feel their presence prowling in the dark. So many that there was no point even tensing up anymore.
Even for him, going alone was dangerous.
As I stood there, someone tapped my arm.
“Hey.”
I turned my head—and met the one person I didn’t want to see.
“Hey, gray-hair. Didn’t hear the squad leader’s order?”
This guy’s recovery rate was impressive too.
Getting kicked in the gut by Yun and still coming to pick a fight—commendable persistence.
I stared straight into Dawson’s visor.
“I heard it.”
“Then why are you standing here like an idiot?”
“Yes. My apologies.”
“Heard you’ve had gray hair since you were a kid?”
Dawson chuckled.
“So that mean you’re white down there too?”
A couple of nearby Badgers burst out laughing.
I answered them politely.
“Yes. Would you like to see?”
I could practically see Dawson’s frown through his visor.
“Cut the filthy talk.”
“Apologies. You seemed curious.”
“‘Wanna see,’ he says—ha! Damn, that’s funny!”
“This guy’s seriously got no sense of propriety.”
“What’s he even offering to show~?”
“Lucia, quit running your mouth and stay out of this!”
“Dawson. Stop harassing the rookie and get moving.”
A senior without a helmet called out gently to Dawson.
I glanced at the man’s kind face, feeling a flicker of hope. He actually looked normal. Not like Leonard.
Yeah. Maybe at least one sane person—
“Nice to meet you, rookie. I’m Isaac Lane.”
Damn it.
One of the names Yun had spat out before.
I shook his outstretched hand, masking my disappointment.
Nine minutes until Choi Yun’s return.
And in that short time, I was already learning firsthand how many things could go wrong.
