Forewarned Terror -2-

I had been repeating the same action every time I woke up lately. As if something were floating in the air, I kept poking and prodding at the exact same spot—poke, poke, poke.

The members of Maker watched this happen day after day with growing bewilderment. There’s that saying, right? When coincidences keep repeating, they become inevitability. What had seemed like nothing more than a weird sleep-talking habit started to feel genuinely strange once it happened over and over.

“Little sis, why do you keep poking at empty air like that? Is there something there?”

“That’s right! It’s like you’re pressing a button—poke poke poke poke!”

“Huh? Ah, no…? It’s nothing.”

But whenever they tried to ask about it, I would shut them down instantly, sharp as a knife. Eventually, my companions gave up on pointing it out altogether. It was probably nothing, they told themselves.

Haa… what the hell am I supposed to do…

The man’s job was pilot. He was young. Looking at him, you’d easily believe he had just entered his twenties. Minos was a city where, if you had enough money, you could even buy extra years of life from others. In a place like that, a genuine young man who had just turned twenty being entrusted with a high-skill job like piloting was no small feat.

He knew how impressive his position was. That was exactly why he treasured his life and his honor so dearly. But as the saying went, sometimes you had to do things you didn’t want to do.

‘Change the flight date to another day? Don’t be ridiculous! The airship must launch on the scheduled date! If you get on the bad side of a Royal Roader, it won’t end with just your death! If you spout that weak nonsense one more time, I’ll cut you out and replace you with another pilot right away!’

The man clenched his fists until they trembled, remembering the head of this lobby project whose face had turned beet red and looked ready to explode.

I didn’t become a pilot for something like this.

He had started this job because he thought it would be sad if humanity ever reclaimed the blue sky above only to have no one left who could fly a plane. So how had it come to this?

Just then, a clean mechanical hum sounded—whirr—and the airship door opened. The lobbyist acting as guide and the Royal Roader who had been touring the interior were stepping outside.

“How does it feel? The low-altitude airship is the pride of Wunhwa. What did you think of the ride?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“Hmm… it lacks a bit of the static beauty a lady might prefer, but the design is reasonably satisfying. The internal security systems are solid as well. Is this also thanks to the organizer being a former war hero?”

“Oh dear, I don’t know where to put myself when a Royal Roader flatters me so.”

A once-honorable warrior who had butted heads with surface monsters was now nothing more than a dead old soldier, bowing his head before power. The sight left a bitter taste in the pilot’s mouth; it seemed to perfectly capture the state of this city.

“Ah, this friend here is the pilot who will serve as captain for this flight.”

As the Royal Roader approached, the man shot to his feet and snapped a crisp salute.

“Loyalty! I’m Roman. I will do my utmost to ensure the Royal Roader experiences no discomfort during this flight.”

“Oh?”

The Royal Roader gave the man’s appearance a quick once-over. His body was stiff with tension, and his uniform was wrinkled as if he had been leaning against something moments ago. The Royal Roader smiled faintly and patted the pilot’s shoulder.

“This lobby event was planned personally by the lady. Mistakes will not be tolerated, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠please do your best.”

The man swallowed dryly. As the Royal Roader’s figure grew distant, he never once dared to suggest changing the flight schedule. D-2 until the terror attack.

Minos had far too many tall buildings. That was because millions of people had to live on a limited plot of underground land. As a result, low-rise buildings were actually rare. There was even an urban legend that if you saw a two-story pension in a spot with a good view, it had to be a Royal Roader’s villa—so you must never approach it.

And by cleverly using that very perception in reverse, Maker had built their base in the city’s outer district. Its name was simple: Evil Base.

The building had originally been a space for Nadja’s personal research before being renovated. From the outside it looked like an ordinary pension, but once you went underground, the space opened up into a strangely vast and open structure.

All the members of Maker had gathered there.

“So we’ve gone and done it… but you do have some kind of plan, right?” Kim Seokho asked, arms crossed. He was always thinking about his little sister’s safety, so Chae Yuha’s reckless behavior made him uneasy.

In response, the trashy Chae Yuha, who had called everyone together only to immerse herself in a chat with someone, answered.

“I know what you’re worried about. You’re wondering what happens if they actually don’t launch the airship like we warned and our whole plan turns into a dud, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Unfortunately, they absolutely cannot do that. If they bend here, it would damage the prestige of the Royal Road—or rather, their pride. They’re probably gritting their teeth, determined to break through head-on.”

“Still, there’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠always the chance of the unexpected.”

“If they don’t launch it, it would be a bit disappointing. But from our perspective, it wouldn’t be bad at all. After we made such an open declaration of war, if they really cancel the flight, what would people say when they look at them?”

“C-cowards…?”

“Whether they received a declaration of war or not, we’re already benefiting from this situation!”

“As expected, Seolhwa is smarter than her brother.”

Seolhwa giggled happily at the praise. At the same time, both Kim Seokho and Nadja cleared their throats loudly. Their eyes met.

“Um… how exactly… are we going to infiltrate the airship…?” A.G.O asked timidly, raising her hand.

Chae Yuha praised her for asking a good question and shared the screen of the phone she had been looking at onto the table.

“Whoa, what the hell? This chat log looks like it would get anyone who follows it totally screwed.”

“Our little sister isn’t seriously believing this chat, is she?”

When both Nadja and Kim Seokho spoke at the same time, Chae Yuha looked at them in bewilderment. What the—why were those two suddenly so in sync? And big sis, you really shouldn’t be saying that. After all, you were the one who found out that the owner of this chat was a high-ranking figure inside the Royal Road who was called “the lady.”

Chae Yuha cleared her throat and continued.

“Anyway, this chat was sent by someone with enough influence in the Royal Road to be referred to separately as ‘the lady.’ The credibility is solid, right?”

“Ah… the lady… I never thought I’d hear that name in a place like this again…”

The robot who had once exposed the darkness of the city smiled slyly.

“Huh? But this is an Instagram DM. Sis, didn’t you block DMs from people you don’t follow back?”

“They ignored the block and sent it anyway.”

“Eh.”

The pure brain that had yet to taste the flavor of power tilted its head. At that moment, Kim Seokho, who had been quietly observing the situation, spoke up.

“But that ticket is only for you, right?”

“That’s right?”

“Then what about us?”

At Kim Seokho’s perfectly reasonable question, everyone’s eyes turned to Chae Yuha. She tilted her head in the same obviously natural way.

“You have the optical camouflage that sis made for you, don’t you? Just turn invisible and come.”

“Are you even human?”

And so, once again, Chae Yuha had to pay the price for her cheeky mouth—spending ten minutes tied up with rope and hanging upside down.

With a tap, the phone screen closed. Chae Yuha replayed the messages she had exchanged with Jinhyun and thought to herself.

So Athena is coming to guard the airship. Looks like I’ll need to prepare more thoroughly than I thought.