The Age of Chaos
It was a one-sided massacre.
They had neither armor nor the kind of hardened bodies needed to withstand Level 4 Body Enhancement and Level 3 Omega Suit.
All they had was a desperate flailing born of their one meager talent.
Yoo Sung-jun asked in a voice as cold and flat as ice, "Clan."
Crack!
A human head split open with the sickening ease of a watermelon being smashed.
Brain matter and chunks of flesh sprayed across the floor.
"Clan."
Crunch!
Before the man could even answer, another head was squeezed apart in his hand.
They burst, they shattered, they were crushed.
Yoo Sung-jun shook the now-human-no-longer from his hand, as if he were flicking off a scrap of meat.
Beyond the grotesque corpse rolling across the floor, the last one was finally visible.
The dark stain spreading beneath his pants said he’d pissed himself.
Yoo Sung-jun gave a thin, chilly smile and crouched in front of him.
This was far better than grabbing them one by one and asking questions.
He would carve fear into the man first, then let the silent threat do the rest: if you don’t talk, you’ll end up like them too.
It worked perfectly.
"I-I know. I know! I know which clan did this! Soldat! The world’s third-ranked clan—Soldat!"
Yoo Sung-jun gave a small nod as he recalled the Russian super-clan Soldat.
"Where is the one who organized this riot?"
"Up above! We’re only the bottom rung—we searched the first floor, but they’re hunting people in the VIP residence!"
"I see."
The rioter laughed awkwardly at the quiet exhale that escaped Yoo Sung-jun.
Hope began to fill his head—maybe, just maybe, this man would spare him.
But that thought exploded along with his head in an instant.
Still, he heard the last thing Yoo Sung-jun said before the end.
"I don’t believe you."
With that firm sentence, Yoo Sung-jun tightened his grip.
Under his merciless hand, the rioter met the same end as the others.
If he wasn’t going to believe him, then why ask at all...?
The rioter’s resentment never made it past his lips before scattering into nothing.
Leaving the corpse behind, Yoo Sung-jun turned his gaze to the residents.
The two men and women the rioters had been dragging along.
They looked middle-aged. Realizing the situation was over, they asked, "A-are you here from the government?"
"No."
Yoo Sung-jun answered immediately and pointed upward.
"I’m the bunker’s chief administrator."
"Ah...!"
Hope flickered across both their faces.
They’d heard a great deal about Another Earth from their son, who was a team leader in Blood Rain.
So they knew exactly how people were allowed into the bunker now, and they understood the significance of that title.
The man who drove out the terrifying Infector that had made its nest in the bunker.
Though the sight of corpses made their stomachs lurch, they forced themselves to stay calm.
He had saved them from danger. As human beings, the least they could do was thank him.
So they stood quietly and waited, and the man asked, "Do you know a woman named Jeyca? She’s blonde, from the United States."
"Ah, yes. She lives on the third floor, the far-left room."
"She’s not your daughter, is she?"
"Pardon? No. We’re close, but the situation is such a mess... we haven’t been able to keep an eye on her."
"I see."
Yoo Sung-jun pointed at the hole in the gate he had just come through.
"Go out and head straight for the entrance. The military will protect you."
"Thank you, Chief Administrator. Thank you so much!"
Well. At least they had the decency to be grateful to the person who saved them.
With that brief thought, Yoo Sung-jun turned away without hesitation.
A half-destroyed escalator caught his eye.
The rioters didn’t look like they’d come down that way.
So where had they dragged those two off from?
As he studied the signboard showing the airport layout, he heard a shout.
"You fucking pieces of shit!"
A roar of fury echoed through the terminal.
It was a familiar voice.
Instinct led Yoo Sung-jun straight toward it.
Before long, he saw a red-glowing Omega Suit in violent motion.
Clang!
Two raised palms slammed together.
The fierce shockwave that burst from the impact rattled the mob attacking the suit user.
They look stronger than the ones I just dealt with.
One of them was wearing an Omega Suit.
It specialized in speed. A brilliant blue streak moved so fast it left only an afterimage behind.
Its movements were nothing like those of the other rioters.
As the man reached out, Yoo Sung-jun stepped in front of him.
He was fast—but still slower than Yoo Sung-jun.
"Who the hell are you!"
"The older brother of the guy behind you."
Yoo Sung-jun answered blandly, and a startled voice shot over his shoulder from behind him.
"Hyung?"
So he had recognized him at a glance.
Then again, all-rounders weren’t exactly common. He must’ve recognized him from the rainbow sheen, or the wild color alone.
Yoo Sung-jun shrugged.
"Hey, Cruiser. Give me the situation in one sentence."
"A strike team from another clan infiltrated the building."
"Okay."
If that was what Cruiser said, then it was reliable.
Yoo Sung-jun immediately understood why the place had been breached so easily and reached his hand behind him.
Action recognized. Summoning Alpha Strike.
Dimension-tech equipment waited in a personal space of its own, revealing itself only in response to specific movements or words from its user.
Yoo Sung-jun had set the trigger with brutal simplicity.
Reach for where he normally wore his gear.
His fingers closed around the hilt of the greatsword mounted behind his back.
With a flick of his fingers, the Omega Suit’s nanotech firearm, the Untouch Shooter, rose into place.
That was enough.
If the strike team is as strong as the guy in front of me, I can’t afford to rely on fists alone.
Yoo Sung-jun glared at the man in front of him, who was still straining to wrench his hand free.
He probably felt like his arm had been caught in a hydraulic press.
The gap between them was that wide.
So Yoo Sung-jun drew the fully unsheathed greatsword and asked, "Which clan are you with?"
Slash!
The blade struck before an answer could.
***
Once he’d dealt with the man who’d endured Cruiser’s Omega Suit ability, the rest were easy.
He’d thought the strike team would be some elite unit.
"Nothing special."
Corpses lay scattered all around Yoo Sung-jun.
He hadn’t forgotten to squeeze information out of the last surviving one either.
"These bastards say they came from Golden Dragon Society. The one we killed earlier said Soldat."
Golden Dragon Society was the world’s second-ranked Chinese clan.
He’d heard they were a small but elite force, securing only a sliver of land in a China fractured by clan division.
So the information the man had given was a lie.
There was no way a bunch of weaklings like this belonged to Golden Dragon Society.
"Tch. If you’re going to lie, at least make it sound convincing. Cruiser. Do you know anything about these guys?"
Cruiser had been staring blankly into space, but Yoo Sung-jun’s question snapped him back to reality.
The awe Yoo Sung-jun had inspired was still burning deep in his chest, and admiration for him was gushing up without limit.
"N-no, I don’t really know. Hyung, did you run into the strike team before coming here?"
"I ran into their lackey. They said they came from Soldat."
"Soldat... Ah! This isn’t the time for that. I was on my way to protect the evacuees."
"Where is it?"
"The shopping district. It was built by converting the third floor, and we have to get there. My little brothers are there too."
Cruiser had settled here with the companions he’d recruited into his party.
He moved briskly and stepped onto the one escalator that was still intact.
"Are you coming too, hyung?"
"For now. Jeyca might be there."
"Ah, that could be. Follow me. I know the way."
On the way, Cruiser gave a detailed explanation of everything that had happened in the few short hours since the chaos began.
"First, the power went out. It was basically a riot that started from inside. They made their move just before evening, when this place is at its busiest."
He meant they’d struck when everyone was scattered?
With the power knocked out too, it would have been perfect for guerrilla tactics.
They may already have taken a lot of people and escaped.
There was trouble everywhere.
That a riot had been sparked by another clan. That there were even residents inside who had joined them.
It meant the defenses had been handled poorly, and the grievances of the people they’d taken in hadn’t been addressed properly either.
This kind of slapdash preparation was a problem, no matter how you looked at it.
So it had festered until it finally burst.
If I can just finish this one thing...
Yoo Sung-jun had no intention of letting the bunker he’d be living in go to hell.
So even if it was a pain in the ass, he’d have to say something to Choi Hyun-seok.
Once this mess was over, that was.
"...Hyung. And you should be careful of the one who led this riot."
"What?"
Yoo Sung-jun, who had only half-listened to the explanation, snapped fully to attention at Cruiser’s next words.
"You saw the leader?"
"I did. But I lost him. That bastard was unbelievably elusive. The moment I saw him, he vanished."
"Either a talent or an Omega Suit ability, then. If he escaped you, he’s probably around Level 3. How did you know he was the leader, though?"
"I saw him gathering the strike team and giving orders. There were so many of them I backed off. Looked like there were more than fifty."
Well, that was about the number you’d need if you were thinking of infiltrating a fifth-ranked clan.
There was no way they’d come here without doing any reconnaissance.
But they’d overlooked two things.
That the Meteor party was stationed here, and that Yoo Sung-jun took ruthless care of his comrades.
"Here. Good news is, the rioters don’t seem to have made it this far yet."
The airport building was enormous.
Still, Yoo Sung-jun’s senses were always on guard over the whole structure.
He observed the many sounds and moving bodies caught within it.
That was why he stopped Cruiser.
"Wait."
Yanking the man roughly back, Yoo Sung-jun broke into a run toward the shopping district.
Rows of stalls lined both sides. Hidden behind those makeshift counters, they were loading their weapons instead of welcoming anyone.
Even though they’d clearly seen him coming, they did it anyway.
Which meant—
"He noticed us! Shoot them down!"
Masked men sprang up from behind the stalls like weeds in rain.
When their gun barrels belched fire, Yoo Sung-jun breathed.
From left to right. Alpha Strike swung through the air, interfering with the atmosphere itself.
It pushed. With a slash packed full of intent, not only the bullets but the entire shopping district was thrown into chaos.
Beyond the scene that looked as though a storm had just torn through, he saw them staggering.
"Hup!"
With a battle cry, Yoo Sung-jun stabbed the greatsword into empty air. Then, keeping it there, he yanked it backward.
It pulled. Dragged along with it were the broken stall remains and the masked men.
Then Yoo Sung-jun spread his fingers and pointed straight at them.
Bang-bang-bang-bang!
The Untouch Shooter detonated everything approaching exactly as designated.
"Ghk—what the hell... huh? You bastard...!"
Cruiser, who had rolled across the floor from Yoo Sung-jun’s sudden move, shook off the impact and hurled himself forward again.
His body, propelled by brute force, accelerated like a cannon shell and plunged into the shopping district.
There, before the masked man could even level his gun at the bound residents, a fist the size of a pot lid smashed into his jaw.
Crack!
The jaw flew off cleanly.
Blood gushed downward like a waterfall, and the masked man dropped dead on the spot.
Cruiser looked not at the captive residents, but at Yoo Sung-jun approaching from the other side.
For a man who had handled dozens alone, he looked almost relaxed.
As Yoo Sung-jun drew closer, his eyes swept over the hostages.
"Are either of you Jeyca’s parents?"
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
At his question, a foreign couple let out muffled sounds from inside their mouths.
Their mouths had been heavily taped shut.
With a small nod, Cruiser hurried over and freed the residents from their restraints.
"Please. Save our daughter!"
"She should be in the room we were staying in. Please...!"
He already knew the room’s location from the resident he’d met on the first floor.
Yoo Sung-jun nodded and looked around the shopping district.
The place was littered with dead residents.
They’d apparently been killed off the moment they resisted, all in the name of reducing the number of people under control to a manageable level.
Anger surged up inside him. There weren’t even enough people to spare for fighting Infector, and yet these bastards had started this just to steal what little food there was.
"Please follow the lead of this big bear of a friend here. Cruiser. Take care of these people—"
Cruiser was no longer beside him.
He was standing apart, his shoulders trembling as he held one of the dead in his arms.
One of his party members...
Users were even harder to control.
That must be why they killed them.
Yoo Sung-jun closed his eyes at the fierce rage radiating from Cruiser’s back.
So this was how it would be.
He hadn’t been able to pay much attention to it, but Cruiser was the team leader who had led his people in the Middle Finger suppression operation.
To Yoo Sung-jun, he was already close to being a comrade.
So—
"Choi Hyun-seok. I’m the one who needs to handle this."
Plenty of civilians would die in the process.
But it didn’t matter.
If he could only calm this chaos in an age where survival was all that mattered, then that was enough.
Come to think of it, Choi Hyun-seok had given him a fitting title.
Chief Administrator of the bunker. Wasn’t that exactly the kind of title that would suit what he was about to do?
"Cruiser. Guard this place. Kill every rioter who comes near."
Yoo Sung-jun stared at the glass wall behind the shopping district.
Amid the people, residents were hurling Molotov cocktails—no, rioter bastards were. They filled his entire field of vision.
"I say this in the name of Meteor: kill every resident who sided with them too. That is how this ends."
Yoo Sung-jun lifted a hand to his in-ear monitor.
He connected to the channel everyone in the clan could hear, and repeated the same order.
The command of a man who had discarded mercy spread through every clan member.