The Rehabilitation Squad's Festival
Nautilus's arena was filled with cheers and screams. During this operation, they had needed to keep Nautilus's existence hidden, so even after docking, Daiyen had kept everyone inside from going out. To quell the residents' complaints, she came up with a new form of entertainment: broadcasting the Rehabilitation Squad beating down the gangsters in real time.
Using the filming equipment Suhyun had set up for making movies, she installed cameras throughout the merchant district and projected the footage as holograms inside the arena. With Nautilus docked and no outsiders allowed in, the residents—who had nothing better to do—flocked to the arena at the promise of fight-watching, bringing packed lunches. They even climbed onto the arena stage, munching on their food and drinks while waiting for the action.
And of course, where there were fights to watch, there was gambling. It was limited to one silver coin per bet, but that was enough to get the residents fired up.
"Ah! The first gangster takedown goes to Cheonggu!"
Losing one silver coin wasn't a huge blow, but it was enough to sting if you lost a few in a row. That modest stake perfectly hyped up the crowd.
"Damn it!"
"Haha! I win!"
Every bet's outcome split the crowd between joy and despair in the same spot. Winners toasted with beer in good spirits, while losers drowned their gut-wrenching regret in the same brew.
The betting options were varied: Who catches the first gangster? Who gets the last one? Who gets spotted first? Who bags the most? Cheonggu's stealthy, silent captures were popular, but nothing beat Jeokgu's satisfying haymakers. The crowd roared at how he knocked foes out cold in an instant, especially those who'd bet on him.
"And right as I say that—Jeokgu's been spotted by the gangsters!"
Jeokgu Spotted!
The moment Jeokgu got busted, Isolra—who'd been gripping her seat in suspense—let out a scream.
"Ah, no!"
"Ahaha, looks like I win again today."
Aurelia and Isolra had come to the noble seats expecting a show and placed bets too. Isolra lost again, glaring daggers at the now-exposed Jeokgu. Watching him grin like an idiot as he charged the gangsters anyway, she vowed to talk to Suhyun and help train the Rehabilitation Squad herself.
Attacking Eira's merchant caravans meant touching a noble's property. The Empire was a strict class-based society, and commoners meddling with noble assets was a grave crime. Of course, the Empire protected commoners by requiring ironclad proof before punishing them for nobles' misdeeds—but with evidence, it was a different story.
The Empire moved for the happiness of its masses, but the Noble Assembly existed solely for the nobility. The Imperial Family and Assembly checked each other in crafting laws: the royals mandated solid evidence, while nobles gained the right to impose harsh penalties on commoners who attacked their own.
Steal from a commoner? Pay triple restitution, or match value if unsuccessful. Touch a noble's goods? Minimum ninefold fine, up to total asset seizure.
The merchants weren't brainless, though. Even the dumbest who rose to caravan head had some smarts. They knew the caravans lacked strong defenders inside, planned to strike successfully and flee, destroying evidence. Deny involvement since the perps were "others," and with fugitives leaving no trace, it was as good as nothing. Plus, the judging lord was in their pocket—they figured they'd cut ties easily.
It was a solid plan in their minds. Unfortunately for them, Eira's caravans were guarded by Nautilus's Rehabilitation Squad, and all attackers were captured. No hard evidence yet, but emergency investigation via testimonies would uncover plenty. Daiyen, knowing exactly where the proof was thanks to Suhyun's bugs and surveillance, didn't hesitate. She hit the button.
The one Suhyun made for when the whole squad was needed: the "Buster Call." Squad members on standby at the barracks formed up combat-ready in under three minutes. Their faces lit up with uncontainable excitement—they'd heard from Daiyen's lackeys, and from Jeokgu and Cheonggu on dispatch, about the caravan raids. They buzzed with anticipation for Daiyen's rewards.
Stepping before them, Daiyen eyed their eager faces and spoke.
"My men, I love money. Let me say it again: I love money. The thrill of clutching every hard-earned coin from diligent work? Precious. Sealing a massive deal and drowning in cash? Ecstasy. But a loss from a slip-up? That night, your pillow soaks in tears of agony.
Yet some bastard—some dog—attacked the caravans I invested in! The ones I poured gold into, planned sales for, prepped meticulously! They nearly cost me my fortune!
My men, I love money. Too much to bear this. That's why I hate those who steal it. Bandits ambushing honest merchants on treacherous roads. Monsters bursting from shadows. And worst: crooks who skip honest work, scam or raid for easy coin, then brag crime's a skill.
So hear me: Punish those who tried to hurt me. Bring them down, and I'll pay handsomely."
"D-does that mean we get leave?"
"Of course. Whoever bags the three ringleader merchants gets three days, two nights off—on me."
"Can we eat good food?"
"Bring proof they colluded to harm the territory and attacked us? Unlimited beer and meat, guaranteed."
"Can we recruit juniors?"
"Absolutely. Drag in the guilty—they'll join the Rehabilitation Squad as your underlings!"
"Ooooooh!"
As the squad roared in excitement, Daiyen projected a massive screen: targets to capture, documents and items to secure. Bounties listed beside each like wanted posters.
"I'm no miser. Hunt them down—I'll pay it all!"
"Waaaaaah!"
Life in the squad was hell. Rough, stiff clothes from cheapest cloth. Soups from kitchen scraps boiled to a disgusting slime. Cramped, hard bunks. Training that made death seem merciful. But under mutual surveillance preventing suicide, this outlet and promised rewards flipped their eyes to frenzy.
The brutal drills had forged them; their physical prowess outmatched mana-less regulars. They charged the three target caravans without hiding.
"Wh-what the—?!"
Guards at the fancy caravan gates, smug no one would dare attack, gaped at the approaching horde. The squad barreled in minimal clothes despite the chill, radiating bloodlust that terrified the guards.
"St-stop!"
A guard thrust his spear, but the squad member dodged inside, slamming a fist into his gut.
"Guhk!"
"Kahaha! Got a caravan guard!"
Yelling loud for all to hear, he sprinted lest he lag. Kicking open the sturdy wooden doors, they scattered, hunting Daiyen's bounties. Most trashed blindly; smarter ones questioned staff.
"Kyaaak!"
A female worker screamed at the ferocious men charging her, but instead of pouncing, they bulged veins demanding answers.
"Where's the caravan head?!"
"Key documents?"
"His hidey-hole?!"
"H-heek!"
They knew she was terrified, but desperation ruled. Veterans craved leave like seawater; newbies would kill for a taste. Bread topped with bacon over squad slop? Worth dying for. And to get it, secure Daiyen's list.
Among them: a squad newcomer, the messenger Sisain.
"Spit it out!"
At his bellow, the woman trembled but answered. Sisain bolted faster than any. Already a quasi-knight sans family backing, his talent shone; with martial arts, he moved like an arrow, overtaking early starters to the caravan head's lair.
He spotted the head.
"B-block him!"
No defense in mind post-raid, the head fled to his secret vault and escape tunnel. Spotting Sisain burst in, he yelled. His bodyguard, mid-grab of jewels, drew steel.
"You look green—don't get hurt, just scram?"
"Piss off!"
Three Talents Sword Method - Mt. Tai Pressing Nail
Suhyun's basic martial art varied wildly by user. Not mere mimicry of energy flow—true power demanded grasping the imagery and intent per form, taxing body and mind. Street thugs swung a heavy chop; but Sisain, self-made quasi-knight of rare talent, unleashed mountain-crushing weight like a giant's greatsword.
'Load a massive peak's weight onto a single nail.'
Mana cycled from dantian, amplifying mass at the blade tip.
"Sword to Block an Ogre!"
The guard unleashed his specialty against the mana-charged strike: a famed ogre-blocker from his school. His defensive stance solidified.
Overhead chops borrow gravity for power, but superhumans shunned them—strong blows lifted blocking foes, exposing gaps. Guard schools countered lifted opponents.
"Mountain Bird Thrust!"
Tripling speed on grounded foes, he struck mid-air Sisain without doubt. Minimal motion from block to lethal poke, thrice faster, against a foe blocking sans footing? Confident.
But against Sisain...
Reflex Enhancement
Sisain's spars with Suhyun—whose casual swings outpaced the guard's art—honed him. He activated Temporary reflexes in time. Amped, he gripped mid-air as the blade flew, stabilizing.
Three Talents Sword Method - Immortal's Path
Defenseless in air, Sisain countered thrust-for-thrust over dodge.
'The immortal's road twists but reaches its goal.'
Unlike the guard's swift straight stab, Sisain's was slow, supple. Slowness unneeded speed; curves outdid lines. The guard's eyes bulged as his thrust coiled around, suppressed—then pierced his shoulder.
"What?!"
Not brute block-thrust, but slow dominating fast, curve overtaking straight: unfathomable logic. Pain forgotten, the guard yielded to the precise muscle stab sparing bone and throat.
"Who are you?"
"Vestal baron's son... no, Rehabilitation Squad messenger Sisain."
Rejecting lifelong status obsession, he claimed his now. Hearing it, the guard bowed in defeat.
"Elphim of Blue Sword School. I yield."
Sisain returned the courtesy, then remembered the head. Vault empty, he'd fled long ago. Sisain scanned frantically.
"Damn, gotta nab that caravan head quick..."
"I got the caravan head!"
"Uwaaak! My three-day leave!"
Elphim stared, enlightened, as the martial prodigy despaired like the world ended.