Atonement in the Containers
“Attacking time, three, two, one!”
The moment the words left her mouth, the Moon Veil vanished.
Sa Yeonggyo lashed out with her Magic Whip.
The whip shot forward like a living serpent, burrowing into the gaps between the masked foes.
Thud.
The whip bounced off a defensive barrier.
But the enemy tanker’s body shook violently. A few more strikes, and she’d shatter that shield—then give them a taste of real pain.
She channeled mana into the Magic Whip, shaping it into a spear for a thrust, but suddenly her arm grew heavy. Sa Yeonggyo glared at one of the masked figures.
A buffer’s dirty trick.
Strong was a buff skill designed to boost a team’s defenses, especially the tanker’s.
But the same skill could disrupt or block enemy attacks depending on the situation. Cast it on an arm or leg, and it threw off balance—turning it into a debuff.
For a dealer like her, Strong was useless at best, deadly at worst.
A rookie might panic, but Sa Yeonggyo had survived countless real battles in Africa. The ‘Symmetria’ magic circle tattooed on her arm activated automatically, absorbing the Strong buff.
Her arm lightened instantly.
The Magic Whip morphed into a Magic Spear and pierced the barrier, shoving the enemies back a meter.
Sa Yeonggyo ducked behind Choi Muhyun again as the Moon Veil reformed to block the front. The enemy dealers unleashed a barrage.
The clash of offense and defense—the classic Turn Battle—was the gold standard in team fights.
Defense first, attack second. You blocked the enemy dealers’ assault before launching your own. Proven efficient in real combat, this method had become the norm.
That’s why Raider teams clashed like chess or Go players—trading blows one turn at a time. In the end, it all boiled down to the tankers: whoever held their barriers longest claimed victory.
Sa Yeonggyo hated the Turn Battle style from the raid manuals. Hated it with a passion bordering on loathing.
No matter how optimal for winning, it felt like cowering like a coward.
One reason she liked Kim Jun: he ignored Turn Battle rigidity, fought free and fierce.
“Choi Muhyun.”
“Yeah.”
“Leave this to me. You go first.”
“...What?”
Choi Muhyun stared at her.
“Hurry.”
“You sure?”
His eyes wavered.
Tanker duty clashed with his burning need to save his mom.
“Go on.”
“If it gets bad, run.”
“Got it. Move when I start attacking.”
“Okay.”
Sa Yeonggyo placed a hand on Choi Muhyun’s shoulder.
“Attacking time, three, two, one.”
The Moon Veil vanished.
As Sa Yeonggyo surged forward with Phantom Walk, Choi Muhyun bolted sideways.
The enemies panicked. This defied Turn Battle entirely—an utter wildcard.
Sa Yeonggyo whipped into their rear. She’d clocked their single tanker early, targeting the unprotected backline.
“Reverse formation!”
Now she spotted their leader.
The tanker shifted back; dealer and buffer adjusted accordingly.
Sa Yeonggyo looped behind again. Phantom Walk excelled at these sudden accelerations and stops.
Unfortunately for them, their reverse formation was... slow, clumsy. They’d skimped on drills. Basic of basics, ignored.
“Reverse!”
Desperate shout.
She feinted into the gap between tanker and dealer.
As the tanker hastily reformed his barrier, Sa Yeonggyo sidestepped and circled behind.
“...Reverse!”
The leader yelled, but the tanker—barrier freshly up—had no room to reposition.
Sa Yeonggyo swung her whip.
It snaked softly, coiling around the ankle of the guy she pegged as buffer.
A yank pulled him from formation, dragging him straight to her.
Her arm grew heavy again.
This bastard had drilled Strong debuffs endlessly. Probably wondering why it wasn’t sticking.
The whip shifted to Metal Whip, wrapping his throat.
A slight squeeze, and it’d snap his neck. The whip tightened.
“Ugh, urgh.”
Sa Yeonggyo silently watched the fate of the fool who’d debuffed her.
—That’s enough.
A clear voice pierced her ear.
Sa Yeonggyo flinched, scanning around.
So vivid, like a whisper right in her ear. Telepathy or Voice Magic—high-level stuff either way.
—Forgot my voice already? Disappointing.
Playful tone.
Familiar... she’d heard it somewhere.
—The Association President isn’t one to trifle with. He approved your Uramata transfer, after all.
Realization hit.
Sa Yeonggyo flicked her whip lightly. The buffer flew into a container, out cold.
As she scanned the container yard for her mystery speaker, the enemies rushed to the buffer.
Confirming he lived, they wordlessly hoisted him and fled. The leader glared to the end, but Sa Yeonggyo ignored it coolly.
—Up top.
Sa Yeonggyo looked up.
Atop a stack of five containers, Choi Min-su waved.
She slipped into the passage between containers, whipping her Magic Whip. The tip lodged in a gap; she vaulted up two levels in one pull, repeating to reach the top.
“Senior!”
“Shh. Keep it down. They’ll hear.”
“...What’s going on?”
“What indeed?”
Choi Min-su grinned.
If his wife were kidnapped, he wouldn’t stand here smirking. Not unless he was a psycho—which the Choi Min-su she knew wasn’t.
So...?
“Bad luck ritual?”
“Bingo.”
Choi Min-su didn’t even glance her way, eyes fixed on where his son had run.
Sa Yeonggyo grabbed a beer can beside the shrimp snacks, cracked it, and sidled up.
“And your wife?”
“Her? Probably home by now.”
Deflation washed over her.
“Who were those losers?”
“Roulette.”
“Ah.”
She’d seen them around the guildhouse but never chatted. Roulette had jumped from Miracle Guild to Uramata—rumor she’d heard, but not cared enough to check.
Sa Yeonggyo swigged her beer. The cool rush washed away her frustration.
“Where’s Kim Jun?”
“Tackled Yoo Wan-seop, got wrecked.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. Was chowing down on pork belly happily just now.”
Sa Yeonggyo was speechless.
Yoo Wan-seop in on the atonement? If Choi Min-su staged this for his son, Yoo Wan-seop must’ve done it to pass an item to Yoo Min-jeong.
Tch.
No rituals when she got her Metal Ring as a kid, or Do Jong-man’s belt. Just lavish birthday parties ending with cake and gear.
Back then, she loved it—bragging rare items her peers lacked.
Now?
How nice if Grandpa, Dad, Mom had prepped something like this. Too buried in Association and guild work for time with their granddaughter, daughter?
“Here.”
Choi Min-su offered a neatly wrapped small box.
“...Senior.”
“Not expensive. Just take it. You’ve got most items already anyway.”
Sa Yeonggyo tore it open right there.
A small perfume bottle.
She spritzed it.
The subtle scent hooked her instantly. Faint traces of Arbom and Plantum mixed in—core-infused, worth at least a million won.
Not the price, but the thought—for her—moved her deeply.
“Wife picked it.”
“Tell her thanks.”
“Will do.”
Choi Min-su stood at the container’s edge.
Unavoidable comparison to her own mom.
Now in Uramata, Mom wouldn’t spare her a glance for a long while.
Mom valued pride and honor over daughter.
So the daughter valued her dreams over mom or family.
Like mother, like daughter.
“What’d Kim Jun get?”
“Why’d he get anything? Guy’s got Cheonroegeom and Yeon Ga armor—what more?”
Overreaction. Something there.
“What? Spill.”
“Took the Power Ring like it was nothing.”
Power Ring: martial artist essential, boosted physical strength.
“And?”
“Wanted a real fight with Wan-seop. Asked for three challenge rounds.”
“...Say what?”
“Wan-seop’s the issue—accepted. Gonna be fun watching a team leader brawl their guild master head-on.”
Sa Yeonggyo burst out laughing, clamping a hand over her mouth—but it wouldn’t stop.
Pure Kim Jun.
Challenging Korea’s top Raider, no less.
Then it hit her—she’d missed something in Choi Min-su’s words.
Wrecked? Real fight?
Kim Jun had actually fought Yoo Wan-seop?
She pressed.
“Had a round at Deoksu Palace. Wore a mask to test the kid, got cocky—sleeve burned clean off. Yoo Wan-seop, mind you. Kid got smashed right after, of course.”
Sa Yeonggyo knew Yoo Wan-seop’s strength well. Even dead serious, she wouldn’t touch him. Hands behind back? Same result.
Burned his sleeve?
What’d Kim Jun do? Where was he now?
“Over there.”
Choi Min-su pointed.
Sa Yeonggyo Phantom Walked over.
* * *
Even channeling inner energy from the Moon Shadow Diamond Heart Method couldn’t break the special alloy lock. Kicking it yielded the same.
“Mom! Mom!”
Choi Muhyun bellowed.
“...Muhyun-ah, Muhyun-ah.”
Faint voice from inside.
Definitely Mom.
He pounded the container wall.
Bang bang!
It dented but held—the steel unyielding.
His knuckles split, blood flowed, but pain? Nothing. Mom was in there. He’d free her somehow. And the bastards behind this... he’d smash them all.
Rage peaked; his fingertips blurred.
Choi Muhyun startled.
...Extinction Jade Hand.
No time to think. He thrust his translucent fingers into the wall. A hole pierced the once-impenetrable steel. Wedging them in, prying left and right—his heart might burst.
“Muhyun-ah, Muhyun-ah.”
Mom’s voice sharpened.
Fury cresting his skull, his Extinction Jade Hands tore the wall like paper.
Inside, Choi Muhyun searched for Mom.
“...Mom?”
A chair in the far corner... something sat there, but not Mom-like.
Worse—no head above the neck.
His heart plummeted.
She’d said come alone—he hadn’t, so they did that to her?
Couldn’t breathe.
“Muhyun-ah, Muhyun-ah.”
Mom’s voice.
Tears streaming, he charged forward.
Now he saw: dark armor on the chair. Scratches galore on shoulders, arms, chest—familiar somehow.
“Pacheonhyeon Armor?”
Dad’s armor.
Why here?
“Muhyun-ah, Muhyun-ah.”
The voice came from behind the armor.
He circled: a small speaker linked to an MP3 player. Looped to play periodically.
Where was Mom?
Choi Muhyun pulled his phone. No missed calls. No texts.
Then—a thunk from the ceiling.
Pale fingers appeared.
They shredded the ceiling effortlessly—Extinction Jade Hand.
The figure dropping down... Choi Min-su.