Mission: Escape
Slumped against the floor beside her chair, her back to the gray partition, Yoo Min-jeong glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since Bang Su-cheol had left to scout the situation ahead.
Go Cheolmin was hiding behind a partition near the entrance, peering down the hallway.
Yeom Sang-taek, crouched across the narrow passage, looked at Yoo Min-jeong.
"Think we've been spotted?"
His voice was hushed.
"Nah. We made it here in one piece because of him."
They'd come close to getting caught several times.
If Bang Su-cheol hadn't known the Association building's layout—and the security team's lockdown protocols—like the back of his hand, they would've been busted long ago, and a fight would've broken out.
As time dragged on, her anxiety grew.
What if some pissed-off examinees who hated that a carrier like Kim Jun had passed the awakening test were going after him?
Sa Yeonggyo, granddaughter of Association President Sa Gyeongbaek, seemed just the type.
She'd seen her in person ages ago, and that wild, aggressive personality was probably still the same. If Sa Yeonggyo was leading the charge, the others would get swept up in the mood.
Anyone who touched Kim Jun would answer to her—no matter if it was Sa Yeonggyo herself!
"F-Fire!"
Yeom Sang-taek cried out.
A single flame floated in the air.
Startled, Yoo Min-jeong hurriedly cut off her fire mana. Her emotions had unconsciously stirred it.
"Shh!"
Go Cheolmin pressed a finger to his lips.
Yoo Min-jeong, her cheeks flushing red, nodded—then Bang Su-cheol returned to the office.
The Pink Team gathered near Go Cheolmin.
Bang Su-cheol spoke.
"Just as expected. Turn the corner, and there's a lounge with a barricade set up. Two guards holding the choke point. Breaking through won't be hard. The issue is getting past armed security without hurting them—or leaving any trace of who went by."
"Got a way?"
"Not me."
Bang Su-cheol grinned at Go Cheolmin.
"Grab us some canned coffee."
Park Jong-myeong whispered, nudging the guard's black helmet up with his pistol barrel.
"Now?"
Choi Jeong-won, aiming his rifle down the hall from behind the barricade of stacked tables and chairs, glanced at his senior.
"Yeah, now."
"We're on duty."
"This guy's got some spine. Where are we? Deep in the West Building, central lounge. Where's a villain gonna run? Straight for the exit, obviously. Not here. Never. Unless they crave coffee, maybe."
Park Jong-myeong tapped Choi Jeong-won's head lightly with his loaded pistol, making him flinch each time.
"Got it."
Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Choi Jeong-won inwardly cursed his senior as he headed to the vending machine.
The lounge, usually buzzing with Association staff chatting over tea or coffee, stood empty. Most had evacuated during lockdown, leaving them to hold the barricade per protocol.
'How many times is this? Sending me for coffee without a dime. Cheap bastard.'
As he turned with two cans, a crash echoed from deeper in the hall. He jumped, dropping them—one rolling under the machine right at his boot.
Park Jong-myeong waved frantically.
Choi Jeong-won rushed back to the barricade.
"Hear that?"
"Yeah."
Choi Jeong-won replied, rifle trained on the hall.
"You take point."
"Huh?"
"I'll cover the rear."
"...Roger."
They left the barricade, advancing slowly toward the noise. Tension had sweat dripping down their faces. They knew exactly what happened if a villain jumped out.
Choi Jeong-won led, rifle sweeping ahead, one step at a time.
Turning the corner revealed an open office door. Partitions and monitors looked ordinary, but to him, it might as well have been a monster-infested jungle.
Park Jong-myeong wiped sweat from his cheek and brow with his sleeve, pistol covering the flanks and rear.
"Clear it. I'll hold here."
"......"
Choi Jeong-won was speechless.
Protocol said always move in pairs. Mention it, and his senior's face would twist—he'd torment him with "manual" nagging later.
"What're you staring at? Didn't hear the order?"
"N-No, sir."
Entering alone, Choi Jeong-won crept low until he spotted a shattered monitor between inner partitions—screen cracked, corner casing broken.
Some staffer in the rush must've bumped it off the desk edge.
'Phew, false alarm. No villain.'
Straightening up, a thud came from the window side.
He whipped his rifle around and fired on instinct.
Bang-bang-bang! Gunfire roared.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Park Jong-myeong fired blindly too.
"Wh-What the hell?"
His senior yelled belatedly.
Right then, Bang Su-cheol dashed past in the hall.
Behind him, Yoo Min-jeong, Choi Muhyun, Yeom Sang-taek, and Hwang Myeong-su slipped by silently toward the barricade.
Approaching the window, Choi Jeong-won found a broken cactus pot. He finally breathed.
"All clear. Just a pot fell."
"You scared the shit outta me. This is gonna be a headache—firing shots means reports. All your fault."
"I'll write it."
"Damn right you will."
As the relieved pair chatted, Go Cheolmin—hanging spider-like from the ceiling—moved carefully. Their guard down, they never looked up or back, letting him slip out safely.
'Lure tactic? Sounded ridiculous, but it worked. Veterans like that detective are on another level.'
Go Cheolmin unleashed Mukhonbo, dashing past the barricade to rejoin the group.
"Who the fuck fired?"
Guard 1 and Section Chief Jeong Yongmin glared at the security company commander like they wanted to devour him.
"...Ch-Checking now, sir."
"Don't you get it? Media's watching. Shots fired leaks, and we're screwed. You got that head for show? Do your job—properly. Order silencers on now."
"Yes, sir."
The commander chewed out platoon leaders, who vented on squad leaders and grunts.
Rifles were swapped out.
Guards continued with silenced pistols only.
* * *
Finally, a guard called his name.
"Kim Jun."
Gripping the bed with his right hand, Kim Jun looked at Lee Taeseop. Sa Yeonggyo, Kang Hyeonseong, and Gong Yunju had left for individual interviews and hadn't returned.
"Catch you later."
"Yeah."
Kim Jun headed to the Honor Hall entrance.
Sergeant Jo Beom-gu, trailing beside him, flashed a sly wink and smile.
"Takes a while?"
"Varies. Some are done quick. They're just separating folks so examinees don't share interview details."
Kim Jun wasn't surprised.
If they suspected villains among examinees, isolation made sense.
Jo Beom-gu led him to a familiar room.
The windowless panic room where he'd been locked after the cheating accusation during the test.
"Investigator's coming soon. Need anything?"
"Hungry."
"...You scarfed those cup ramen like candy."
"Noodles are snacks."
"You wolfed rice too."
"Not real food."
"Damn, kid. Fine, I'll hunt down a lunchbox."
As Jo Beom-gu left, silence blanketed the large room. Ten minutes passed—no investigator.
Kim Jun scanned the inescapable space.
In the Honor Hall, at least other examinees were around. Here, alone. Guards outside couldn't stop Kim Se-wi—if he opened that door, Kim Jun's condition left him defenseless.
He slowly unwrapped the bandage on his right hand.
Healing or not, the Po-noe Strike burns were gruesome.
Torn wounds resembled overlapping crimson rose petals. Even slight flexing brought stabbing pain, splitting them open.
Imagining butterflies, he checked if Cheonnoe Heart Technique stirred in his dantian. Inner power flowed slowly to his shoulder and hand but blocked at the wrist. Left arm failed past the shoulder.
'Can't use Po-noe like this.'
Rebandaging, his breathing grew ragged.
No outside contact—lockdown.
'Villain intrusion triggering lockdown might tie to Ju Shin. Or not.'
Sitting to calm himself, suspicions swelled. He swore he heard Kim Se-wi's approaching footsteps.
Eyes flicked to the door. It could open any second, him walking in.
"Hoo."
Exhaling long, Kim Jun realized his tormentor: fear, stronger than any dungeon monster, intangible.
He knew how to conquer it. Rising, he cycled Mukhonbo's Tan and Po repeatedly.
He darted between wall and table.
Tan acceleration shook his body like fire on his left arm, right hand throbbing—but better than fear's crush.
Sweat beaded.
Loosening up, he added the third principle, Dang.
Now circling the table smoothly. Sudden reverses ground his teeth from arm shock.
He recalled Guild Master Go Cheolmin's lesson on the fourth, Chu.
Mukhonbo's pillars: Tan and Po.
Dang enables curves blending them.
Chu boosts adhesion from standstill—not motion. Master it: walk walls like floors, cling ceilings like a spider indefinitely.
Kim Jun eyed the wall, then ceiling.
"Let's try."
Mukhonbo Po carefully to the wall.
One step up, slow. Injuries stirred fall-fear.
Ceiling neared.
To wall-standing Kim Jun, it was just another wall. Climb it next.
Glanced down. Higher than thought.
Broken left arm hitting floor—bones shifting, shards piercing muscle?
"Screw that."
Stepped toward ceiling.
Gravity yanked harder than Po adhesion—he nearly tumbled, balance lost.
That's when he realized: Mukhonbo Po couldn't sustain ceiling hangs upside-down. Briefly maybe, but not like Chu turning it to floor.
Wall-planted, he switched to practicing Chu.
Principle simple.
Spread inner power wide around feet, fully adhering to surface—that's Chu.
A massive suction cup via inner power.
Demands precise control: shape it, hold under any condition.
'Spread it wide first.'
Imagined mist from feet. Dantian's Mukhonbo inner power didn't budge.
Needs vivid image!
Mom's occasional dumplings surfaced. Watching her knead, roll thin from childhood.
Visualizing dough slowly, evenly spreading under her rolling pin—suddenly, dumpling soup taste flooded, mouth watering.
Then, Mukhonbo flowed from dantian, knees, soles—spreading like dough, barely 30cm radius.
Not enough adhesion.
Wiping sweat, a savory scent wafted.
Eyes widened.
This nutty aroma... fried chicken!
Sniffing, it intensified from ceiling corner. Hidden vent—smell leaking in.
Infuriating. He'd demand chicken from the guard outside.
Then, panic room door burst open.
"What? Empty! Where's examinee Kim Jun?"
Investigator bellowed; outside guard rushed in.
"H-He was definitely here."
"This is unacceptable. What were you doing while a suspect escaped? I'll make this official! What, just stand there?"
"R-Right away, sir."