#30 Three Strokes
Do Chae-hee was no idealist.
She knew full well that perfect justice could never exist in this world. And yet, she still wanted everything she did to fit squarely within that framework of righteousness.
That was why she never compromised, even when people around her hurled insults or sneered, Why do you live like that?
She always wanted to be just.
By her definition of justice, this was the right thing to do.
Ever since the public warrant, Han Seohyun had been branded a full-fledged villain. They'd tacked on the word "suspect," but by day five, he was simply known as the sole confirmed member of Beltsmets.
No need to feel guilty. He's definitely moving with Beltsmets—no, he's Beltsmets.
After the warrant went out, Do Chae-hee had been running herself ragged. Beltsmets was the hottest topic in Korea right now, and Han Seohyun had been publicly outed as one of their members. Information was flooding in faster than she could handle.
Sacrificing sleep, she sifted through the deluge, desperately mining for anything useful. Park Cheol-wan watched her with pity and asked,
"Any leads?"
"Nothing decisive, but it's better than nothing. At least the info's pouring in now—some of it's even drawing eyes right where we want them."
"Coffee?"
"No, I'm good. Feels like I've had thirty cups today already."
Park Cheol-wan shuddered at that. He couldn't even imagine the toll it was taking on her.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. Finally, the whole world knows Beltsmets are dangerous..."
"Not that. I mean the kid. You okay with putting out that warrant on him?"
"Why wouldn't I be? It's a crime, after all."
Do Chae-hee's voice trembled at the end. She bit her lip under Park Cheol-wan's gaze.
She always preached zero tolerance for evil, but this case felt overwhelming. Han Seohyun wasn't a saint. He'd hung out with villains—no, he'd committed villainous acts, so he was a villain.
But even so, what gnawed at her was that the truly evil bastard—the one in the mask—was still out there, while this kid seemed to be shouldering all the blame.
"It's just that the real scum is that masked bastard, and it feels shitty pinning everything on the kid."
It wasn't about letting him off because he was young.
Do Chae-hee had met Han Seohyun in person once before.
"I ran into him back then. His brother was a victim in the Kang Ishin case. I stood there begging a dying man for a statement like some heartless cop, and that's when the kid said it to me."
Do Chae-hee recalled those words.
'My only family came home with a death sentence. Is it too much to ask for some quiet time with him—maybe his last?'
At the time, she'd assumed Han Seohyun had given up on his brother, Han Jo-hee.
Mana poisoning was incurable. The treatment just burned through cash endlessly, impossible for someone in Han Seohyun's position.
But later she learned he'd scraped together money somehow to cover the bills. He'd even begged the hospital multiple times not to give up on his brother.
He was only seventeen. A kid who hadn't even graduated the academy, burning everything he had to save his brother.
"When he lost that brother, what do you think went through his head? You know what he did? He turned his own brother into a skeleton. Into an undead. I feel like I get what he was thinking when he did that."
Park Cheol-wan asked,
"You think he joined Beltsmets to get revenge on 'Kang Ishin'?"
Do Chae-hee nodded cautiously.
Having lost her own family to a villain just like Han Seohyun, she understood his pain better than anyone.
"Beltsmets is just using him. His only mistake was trusting the most monstrous person in the world—the adult he should've never believed in."
That's why Do Chae-hee could never forgive Beltsmets. For exploiting a child's thirst for revenge on their own twisted whims.
"I'm going to catch Han Seohyun. And I'll tell him the path he's on is wrong. That's what a real adult does, right?"
Park Cheol-wan nodded, seeing the fierce light in Do Chae-hee's eyes.
She'd grown up in the blink of an eye. A faint smile even played on her lips.
I waited in the living room for Han Seohyun to emerge. The moment he stepped out, I unleashed my magic words.
"Sit down."
"W-Why?"
The power of those magic words was immense—they drained the color from the face of the kid who'd brazenly lied to me for days.
"We need to talk. Sit."
"Ugh."
He grumbled but shuffled over and plopped down in front of me anyway.
"Why didn't you tell me? You're wanted nationwide now."
Han Seohyun was in the exact same boat as me—public enemy number one. No escape, thanks to his confirmed identity, just like "Kang Ishin."
He pouted and muttered,
"It's no big deal."
"No big deal, my ass."
I let out a heavy sigh.
Honestly, given everything lately, it was only a matter of time. I couldn't blame him alone—I'd been way too complacent too.
Still, it pissed me off to no end seeing kids from the academy—the ones he'd gone to school with—calling him a "creepy bastard from the start" or "knew it all along." Blood boiled just thinking about it.
I forced down the anger and said,
"Even after this is over, you can't go back to a normal life."
"What's 'normal life' even mean?"
"Aigoo."
Spouting edgelord crap like that. But considering what he'd been through, it was all on me.
—Yeah, says the guy running around in a mask. Pot calling the kettle, huh?
'Quiet.'
As I sorted my thoughts, Han Seohyun spoke up.
"I like this life here. With you, Boss, and Jae-ho hyung."
—Hyung? That feral mutt still the same?
I bit my lip at Ray's words.
'Told you he'd take it to the grave.'
My conscience stabbed harder. What the hell was I thinking, deciding to raise this half-grown kid when I had zero talent for parenting?
"If you're really worried about me, stop talking bullshit and take responsibility for my life properly. And don't come back all beat to hell."
True enough—I had no comeback. I just sighed deeply. Fine, what's done is done.
"Anyway, got it. But no more hiding shit next time. The more you do, the more cleanup I have to handle later. You're not even good at it. Got it?"
"Ugh."
He nodded stiffly at my words.
"Not gonna yell more?"
"Nothing left to yell about. Just do your thing."
"What're you gonna do?"
Han Seohyun eyed me as I staggered to my feet. What else?
"Gotta clean this mess up somehow."
I said to Ray,
"This won't cut it."
It wasn't the time to slowly recover.
—Pushing too hard recently and now this?
"Mountains of shit to handle."
Plenty to fix, and not just one or two things. Internal stuff was bad enough, but the external fallout was worse.
We had to set Beltsmets' public direction, wrap up the Butcher incident, and contain the spread of info tying us to it. Han Seohyun's warrant was unavoidable now, but we couldn't let related details leak freely.
And the overheated dark web needed cooling off too.
A week since the Butcher died.
Beltsmets had gone quiet, and all sorts of gossip had latched on. More than enough to fuel rumors: I'd taken massive damage (true), got nabbed by the government, got revenge-killed by the Tower. Rumors everywhere.
Our image couldn't afford to tank.
We were already catching flak for dragging a 17-year-old into this; add those rumors, and it was a disaster. We needed one big move to shut them down.
Internally, tons to do too.
Reinforce the still-shoddy base before winter, deal with Evrika's core rolling around, repurpose the Butcher's artifacts somehow.
Oh, and remake my shattered mana bracelet.
Anyway, none of it was possible without a fully functional body.
Yeah, no more moping around.
—So what's the plan?
'Told you. I'm forcing open the three-stroke talent.'
Over the past week, I'd carefully mapped the mana circuits in my body. Confirmed the ones linked to my arm were wrecked.
Physical destruction had severed them clean. That part felt like dead flesh—not rotting, since it was mana-infused, but utterly lifeless.
But sensation lingered in my fingertips, so it was probably just dormant, not gone.
Super-regeneration could fix it.
Good, good...
I had a rough idea.
—A rough idea?
"Higher-output talents need more circuits, right? Like how super-regeneration takes three strokes."
—Yeah?
"But even a one-stroke talent can output big if you pump it full of mana, yeah?"
It was efficiency, not impossibility. I'd realized it fighting Park Sang-pyeon. What I'd done with my one-stroke lightning wasn't one-stroke level at all.
Twisting bolts into a massive one mimicked two- or three-stroke effects.
Like brute-forcing the same result externally with mana.
Crude as hell—my arm couldn't handle the output and shattered—but I'd exceeded one-stroke limits by flooding it with mana.
"Feels like breaking into three strokes works the same way."
—Forgot how that wrecked all your circuits?
"I know, I get it. But it's regeneration, right? It'll heal tougher."
My body had handled massive mana loads before. My circuits had grown more resilient, tougher—like muscle fibers after tears.
Given time, steadily pouring in mana might naturally unlock three strokes.
But I didn't have time.
I drew up mana and slammed it into the regeneration circuits. They tore and split under the strain.
"Urk."
But the rips regenerated—stronger. I repeated relentlessly. Mana depleted fast, but no biggie—pull from the core.
—Sucking mana straight from a core without artifacts? Suicidal much?
'Overload damage is good. Regeneration makes 'em tougher.'
I pressed a hand to Evrika's core. Mana surged wildly; circuits shattered again.
But no problem.
Regenerate and repeat.
Destruction and regeneration. Over and over. Absorbing the core's mana, tempering my body this brutally for a while.
My whole body felt shoved into a furnace. Shaking uncontrollably. Overload.
Mana unable to flow through circuits turned toxic.
Not for nothing did ambient mana cause poisoning epidemics.
But I trusted my recovery.
One-stroke recovery.
Two-stroke regeneration.
Three-stroke super-regeneration.
Two strokes handled it fine.
My body broke and mended in cycles.
Mana crept toward the third stroke. Circuits that once repelled it now accepted trickles amid the bounces.
And finally.
The infiltrated mana activated the third stroke.
Fresh flesh budded on my grotesquely twisted forearm. Not just flesh—severed nerves regrew, the mangled body mending in seconds.
Finally, three strokes.
I'd unlocked super-regeneration.