Age of Chaos
"Haa, haa..."
Had he not finished neutralizing the toxin yet?
The hand he had braced on the ladder trembled violently.
Yoo Sung-hwan steadied his breathing and moved his hand slowly.
He had been too frantic to notice it before, but the fight with the killer had left him more exhausted than he’d realized.
With his brother here, the tension in his body had come loose all at once, and now the fatigue was rushing in to fill the gap.
His body felt sluggish too, from the lingering poison.
Damn it... at this rate, I might not even be able to run.
The entrance was already being swarmed by the Ballugl.
He had planned to snipe from a distance and then pull back.
What do I do? I’m almost all the way down. Going around to the back of the entrance would take too long. And flanking them from the side... not in this condition.
He had to choose.
There was no perfect option.
Whatever he chose, he would have to accept the damage.
He had to decide between their sacrifice and his own safety.
Yoo Sung-hwan gritted his teeth.
This was nothing more than a temporary effect from the poison.
If he focused again and forced his nerves back into tension, this drowsiness would vanish before long.
Yeah. I need to help the clan members as much as I can.
Smack!
Yoo Sung-hwan slapped his own thigh.
He hit it hard enough to bruise, and the dull pain brought a little clarity back into his head.
After climbing down the ladder and heading outside, he saw a massive shadow draped over the ground.
It was too dark to be a cloud. And it was growing larger by the second.
Then a fierce gust of wind blasted down around him, and he looked up.
Kraaaaarak!
A red dragon descended with a thunderous roar.
Yoo Sung-hwan stared up at the enormous body and swallowed dryly.
When had it arrived, and where was he supposed to hide?
Rank 4? No... maybe Rank 5?
The pressure it gave off was still lighter than what he had felt from Muaz or Undomination.
Judging its level from that, he tightened his grip on his rifle and prepared himself, only for the red dragon to lower its head.
Its eyes, which he’d thought were bright yellow, were pitch-black.
Those bright, tearful eyes.
The moment Yoo Sung-hwan met them, a familiar feeling washed over him.
And so, with his visor off, he blurted out something stupid.
"Ryo...ng-i? Ryong-i? Is that really you?"
The sudden reunion caught in his throat.
He knew exactly how hard it must have been for the creature, and that made it all the harder.
The world of infector predation, where only the strong survived.
It must have fought nonstop, never able to rest in peace for even a moment.
To survive there, it would have crossed death’s edge over and over, eating what it could, learning to control the powers it possessed, growing stronger through sheer struggle.
Ryong-i had endured all kinds of hardship in order to keep the promise it had made to him—one that he’d had no choice but to leave in a letter—despite having a body not even a few weeks old.
He reached out toward the head that was moving closer to him.
The instant his trembling hand touched the creature’s smooth scales, Yoo Sung-hwan swallowed back tears.
"Let’s not be apart anymore. You kept your promise... didn’t you?"
Kyurururu...
As though trying hard not to cry, Ryong-i blinked too.
But the tears had already gathered, and they spilled down, soaking Yoo Sung-hwan’s hand.
Even that was a new sensation, and he was happy for it.
Still, this wasn’t exactly a moment they could bask in.
"Ryong-i, you know this already, but things are dangerous for me and the people living here."
They had reunited in the middle of all this chaos, so there wasn’t time for a long conversation.
Instead, the instant he saw Ryong-i, an idea struck him for how to break through the situation.
"Let’s work together. I’m exhausted right now. But you’re fresh, aren’t you?"
Kkyung-kkyung!
As if to say he was right, the dragon spread both wings wide.
Yoo Sung-hwan rubbed at the corner of his nose, unexpectedly stung by the sight of that sturdy, dependable figure.
"All right, Ryong-ah. Think you can carry me and fly?"
Kkyuung!
Ryong-i answered with confidence, lowering its body and stretching its neck so he could mount easily.
Yoo Sung-hwan stroked the dragon’s neck and climbed on, his heart thudding so hard he could barely bear it.
Could he ever have imagined this?
Heroes riding dragons and ravaging their enemies, the kind he had only ever seen in comics or novels.
He had become one of them too, a man riding a dragon.
Strictly speaking, Ryong-i isn’t a dragon. He’s an infector.
But still, he was an infector that resembled a dragon.
Overflowing with excitement, Yoo Sung-hwan patted Ryong-i’s neck.
Feeling the rough scales against his palm, coarser than the creature’s head suggested, he shouted, "Then let’s go, Ryong-ah!"
Kkyuoooh!
Its cute little cry transformed into something far more imposing.
Kraaaarak!
The forceful beat of its wings lifted the two of them into the air.
And so Yoo Sung-hwan joined the battle on Ryong-i’s back.
For the Ballugl, it must have felt like calamity itself had arrived.
***
Now that he was facing Stalker again, Yoo Sung-jun felt something was off.
Does he still think this is something he has to hide?
The bastard still wasn’t revealing the Omega Suit’s full capabilities.
Splitting the team, using his comrades as bait, then drawing in infectors to shake the bunker apart? Fine.
He was surely having the infiltrating team members pick people off one by one or carry out assassinations.
But that only worked as long as the Ballugl could hold out.
The squad leaders would arrive soon.
Ryong-i’s breath would roast the Ballugl by the dozens.
From the enemy’s point of view, the golden time was ticking away.
And yet the bastard was calm. Why?
Ah.
The corners of Yoo Sung-jun’s mouth lifted.
A faint smile curled on his lips, and from them came words carrying certainty rather than guesswork.
"So that’s how it is."
"What are you muttering about?"
"I figured out your real ability."
So what if his innate talent was Cognition? So what if there was some reason he was wielding Harpe, a weapon specialized only for cutting?
It didn’t matter in the slightest.
He had been completely fooled by the bastard’s perfect manipulation.
"I didn’t know you could control a marionette that well."
At most, it was Rank 3.
If it had been Rank 4, he would have been able to manipulate two or more at once, so that was the limit of the bastard’s ability.
Even so, the precision at that level was unusual.
He’d been tricked because he’d assumed Cognition was the bastard’s natural talent.
All those movements that seemed to diverge from the norm had simply been the result of controlling the Omega Suit, that "puppet."
-Ah, can you hear me? Meteor-nim?
Then a voice he knew well came through his in-ear.
Yoon Choi. So she was the team leader Jack Kalt had assigned.
Now this makes it feel like I got played for teaching them how to grow their innate talent.
He gave a low chuckle and spoke.
"I can hear you. Talk."
He braced himself to respond, tracking the Stalker puppet as it began to move again.
The Stalker’s face, only briefly revealed, was obviously part of the Omega Suit’s power.
Camouflage. And he’d been using it for some kind of childish little stunt like this.
A thin spike of anger rose in him, a resentment at how well it had almost worked.
Crunch. Gripping his greatsword tighter, Yoo Sung-jun heard Yoon Choi’s still-annoying voice in his ear.
-The one Meteor-nim’s fighting right now is fake! The real one’s with Jack! And...
"I know. This bastard’s just doing this to keep me busy, right?"
-Y-Yes?
"Thanks for fixing the comms. I’ll take it from here."
-W-wait a second...!
He didn’t need to hear any more.
He understood exactly what they were after.
Yoo Sung-jun ended the communication and bent his knees slightly.
So they’re trying to take over the bunker with our own equipment too.
So they’d decided they wanted to buy themselves a house, had they?
With a crooked grin, Yoo Sung-jun launched forward.
He shot toward the bastard like a streak of light and swung his sword straight at him.
Just as expected, the Stalker slipped aside with an airy burst of speed and met Harpe head-on.
A familiar counterattack. There was no reason to keep hiding his real strength now.
Now that he knew the bastard was stalling for time, he would cut him down in one stroke and keep moving.
"Ssshh!"
At that moment, Yoo Sung-jun’s body burned red.
The sword strike, driven by explosively gathered power, split the Stalker’s puppet clean in two.
It happened before the bastard even had time to react.
"Hoo... better save that for short-term battles."
Even after only a moment’s use, his body was already aching, so Yoo Sung-jun loosened himself and looked down.
Below him, he could see the Ballugl horde being held back by Ryong-i’s breath and his younger brother’s sniping.
So there was no need to worry about that side anymore.
All that’s left is to mop up the killers.
Without stopping, Yoo Sung-jun headed deeper into the bunker.
And before long, he met Rose again.
***
Rose trusted the razor-sharp edge of her own senses.
That faith had saved her life.
She had nearly been cut in half. A greatsword had buried itself right in front of her nose.
With a snarl, Meteor ripped the blade free again and put on a merciless display of greatsword technique.
"H-hey! Hk!"
She was barely managing to dodge when, by sheer luck, she carved out a tiny opening and slammed the emergency call button.
She knew full well she couldn’t beat this monster alone.
That was why she’d planned to finish him together with Boss.
Why are you already here?!
Boss’s innate talent was so perfect it could fool even Rose.
It had been enough to trick Beniki, the most perceptive of their comrades, for a moment too.
If he had come here, that meant he’d seen through that marionette act already.
So that’s what being number one means...
She had felt it when he nearly beat her to death in their sparring match, but that was still a sparring match, and so the violence had been restrained to some degree.
Now that she faced him as he radiated such ferocious killing intent, she could feel the difference in class.
Just as she was a master at killing people, Meteor was a master too.
He knew everything about Another Earth.
"That strange movement. Joints bending beyond their limits. Is it the suit’s ability, Insensibility?"
He had already figured out her ability from that brief clash.
At this rate, she’d be dead before her comrades could arrive.
The gap between her and Meteor was simply too vast.
So Rose changed her plan.
She hurriedly activated Face Over and shouted.
She didn’t even forget to remove her visor.
"W-wait! I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding!"
"Hmm?"
The cry was almost a desperate howl, a final struggle from someone backed into a corner.
Rose swallowed hard as she looked at the greatsword, stopped an inch from her forehead.
She was so overwhelmed she almost felt awe instead of fear.
Gathering the last of her wits, she kept talking.
"We met during sparring, remember? It was me—me! Seo Eun-sil! Back then you got mad because I kept making those LA jokes and stuff, Meteor-nim!"
"So it was you? That rage-control disorder bitch?"
A vein bulged on Rose’s forehead at those words.
But with superhuman patience, she forced herself to endure it.
She wanted nothing more than to kill him on the spot, but Rose held it in.
If any of her comrades had seen this, they’d have mocked her for being a cowardly bitch who couldn’t even stand by her own words, but there was no one around.
She just had to carry this fact to the grave with her.
"Ahaha... y-yes, that bitch... I was told to guard the equipment room, so I was doing that, and then Meteor-nim just shows up like that, right? So I was carrying out my assigned job, and then your movements felt familiar..."
"You realized it was me?"
"Y-yes, yes. I just took out the killer that invaded a second ago. Right..."
It was a little cheap to throw Victor under the bus after practically memorializing him just moments ago, but Rose was more than willing to bear it.
So long as she could get rid of the strong one standing before her, one whose movements were so clearly beyond the ordinary.
Victor. If I die and end up meeting you, I’ll at least apologize once.
Making that vow to herself, Rose’s eyes sparkled.
She forced out the most pleading expression she could manage and went on.
"It was too much for me to handle alone. You came to protect the bunker too, right, Meteor-nim?"
Inside, Rose prayed desperately.
Please, please. Come on already. Come help me take down this bastard!
Ah, there! Just then, familiar footsteps came into earshot.
Rose smiled and sprang to her feet.
No, she was just about to stand up.
"But..."
The kick came down without warning.
She had no time to raise her anger, no moment to react.
Crack!
Her neck snapped, and her head flung backward.
The expression frozen on that pitiably dangling head was one of pure bewilderment.
Why? The question filled her mind, and beyond that confusion she heard Meteor’s voice.
"Looks like you’ve gotten pretty good at taking a beating without losing your temper now. You killer bastard."
How had he seen through her?
Before she could even answer the question that hovered on the brink of death, Rose’s breath was already gone.
Yoo Sung-jun casually shoved her aside and looked at Victor’s corpse.
"Only Sung-hwan uses nano-needle rounds that leave this kind of bullet mark, so where the hell did you think you were lying? Tch."
As he clicked his tongue softly, movement stirred all around him.
Before he knew it, a group had surrounded him.
They all wore Omega Suits and glimmered with a variety of colors.
"Did she call the rest of you?"
He asked, nudging Rose’s corpse with his foot, and a murderous chill stabbed at his skin.
Yoo Sung-jun rolled his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the greatsword.
Short-term battle. That phrase had probably been made for moments exactly like this.
"Ssshh!"
He sucked in a fierce breath, and a massive surge of oxygen flooded his body.
It was the new application he had gained from devouring Death Spoil’s brain: compressed breathing.
One breath produced the effect of dozens, but the elevated oxygen concentration inside his body sent his temperature soaring.
He breathed that way until he reached the limit his strengthened body could endure.
Heat burst from him, and his body burned red.
Then Yoo Sung-jun smiled.
"Come on in, you trash."
The killers began firing and swinging their weapons.
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