We're Rolling Stones
“We’re rolling stones. If we don’t band together, we’ll just get tossed around. So trust me. I’ll take good care of you.”
“Got it.”
An Seong-ho skipped the “for now.”
They entered the briefing room and took their seats, but Bang Yun-a strode right up to the whiteboard, claiming the front from the start. It was a clear power play.
Skyla’s eyes gleamed.
Yeom Sang-taek glanced around uneasily.
Kim Jun, arriving late, quickly read the room and sat beside An Seong-ho.
“I’m Bang Yun-a, leader of the Medusa Team. You all know who I am. Due to special circumstances on this expedition, four teams have been reorganized into three. It’s confusing, I get it, but if we stay focused, we can wrap this raid without incident. Any questions?”
“Team leader.”
Skyla spoke up.
“...Team leader?”
Bang Yun-a’s eyes narrowed.
An Seong-ho smiled faintly. Bang Yun-a was used to being called “Team Leader-nim.” Most registered team leaders had her same vibe.
Skyla glanced at Kim Jun for confirmation.
“Team leader,”
“I’m listening.”
Kim Jun said.
“Even a former guild master starts as the baby of the team—that’s Pink Team tradition, right?”
It was a direct nod to Go Cheolmin. An Seong-ho was stunned to hear the guild master was Pink Team’s rookie.
“Of course.”
“Then a raider from another team—even if they were a leader—should start at the bottom, yeah?”
“That’s the tradition.”
Kim Jun replied.
Bang Yun-a glared daggers at him.
An Seong-ho’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between them. Do Jin-yong watched like it was a thrilling 3D blockbuster.
“Sang-taek, what’s Pink Team Rule Number One?”
Kim Jun asked, eyes on Bang Yun-a.
“Rule 1: Obey the team leader’s orders without question.”
Yeom Sang-taek answered.
Killing intent flickered in Bang Yun-a’s eyes. Flames licked from her hands, taking shape.
“Rule Two?”
“Rule 2: Ignore the team leader’s orders if necessary—but only with good reason.”
Yeom Sang-taek’s words shocked An Seong-ho, Do Jin-yong, and even the fuming Bang Yun-a.
Team rules were the leader’s domain, but no leader codified disobedience. They believed denying even the possibility ensured flawless teamwork in combat.
“Rule Three too.”
“Rule 3: Hierarchy can shift anytime. Got beef? Challenge. Win, and it flips. But only once a month.”
“And Rule Four while we’re at it.”
“Whoever beats the team leader becomes the team leader.”
An Seong-ho’s jaw dropped.
Kim Jun was insane.
Pink Team was insane.
Uramata Guild—for letting this slide—and its master... none of them were right in the head.
This was straight-up egging on challenges for the top spot. Then it hit him like a brick to the back of the head.
Confidence!
The unbreakable will to never back down from any teammate!
An Seong-ho realized why Kim Jun had Yeom Sang-taek recite the rules.
Want to be leader? Step up!
Beat me!
That was the message.
“What a fun team. Fine. I challenge you—right now. No excuses like ‘not today,’ right?”
Bang Yun-a sneered.
Kim Jun glanced at An Seong-ho.
“I’m not that into being team leader.”
Now he eyed Do Jin-yong.
“I’d like to watch you two fight first before deciding.”
“Bring it.”
Kim Jun stood and headed to the simulator zone. Bang Yun-a followed, murder in her eyes.
Do Jin-yong pulled out 100,000 won.
“Bang Yun-a wins.”
“Kim Jun.”
Choi Muhyun slapped money on the table.
An Seong-ho sat out the bet. His head said Bang Yun-a, but his gut remembered how Kim Jun fooled Jeong Myeong-ho. He didn’t fight like a normal raider—unpredictable enough that Kim Jun could win.
He climbed into the “An Seong-ho” simulator to watch.
The others boarded too.
Gathered in the dim space.
Kim Jun yielded venue choice to Bang Yun-a, delegating the simulator’s battlefield selection.
“No regrets.”
Bang Yun-a picked a fire dealer’s dream: a sweltering volcanic zone.
Black-red smoke billowed; crimson lava flowed like rivers.
In this heat, Fire Arrow mana fueled Fireball; Fireball power unleashed Fire Explosion.
The acrid stench dizzied An Seong-ho, but he endured, watching the duel. He sensed Bang Yun-a’s desperation.
Everyone here was younger, less seasoned than her. Choosing this hellscape showed her iron resolve to claim leadership.
A newbie leader’s mindset couldn’t match her near-decade at the helm.
An Seong-ho studied Kim Jun.
Calm as ever, staring her down.
Venue doesn’t matter?
“Attack first. I’ll take three moves.”
Bang Yun-a said.
“Pfft.”
Someone snickered.
Skyla.
“Oh, sorry. Just too funny.”
Seniors often yielded first strike to juniors. In a neutral spot, it’d look cool.
“For real?”
Kim Jun asked—dead serious if he could strike thrice first.
“Yeah.”
Bang Yun-a smirked, beckoning with a finger.
Kim Jun exploded forward.
An Seong-ho jolted.
Mokhonbo Tan! So fast!
Bang Yun-a casually raised both hands, erecting a Fire Wall. A blazing barrier blocked the way.
An Seong-ho eyed the edge, expecting Kim Jun to flank.
“Huh?”
Kim Jun charged straight through.
Flames scorched his shoulders and hair; skin blistered red. Faster now, he closed on her chest, thrusting a hand.
Bzzt-crack.
Po-noe Strike!
Sparks engulfed her torso; Bang Yun-a flew back.
An Seong-ho was speechless.
Do Jin-yong blinked in shock—the end came too quick.
Kim Jun looked to Skyla.
She extended a hand awkwardly; silver energy washed over him. The flames on his hair died; blistered skin eased.
Bang Yun-a staggered up.
“Th-this... invalid! Re-do it. That wasn’t... a proper start.”
An Seong-ho frowned. Seeing a leader like her throw a tantrum was pathetic. Graceful defeat would’ve been better.
“I agree. No holding back—that’s fair.”
Kim Jun said.
An Seong-ho got it now.
Total victory.
No excuses, utter domination.
For the first time, Kim Jun felt... cruel. He could’ve let her save face and still led.
The fight restarted.
Battered, Bang Yun-a went defensive, lobbing occasional strikes. Single Fire Walls couldn’t stop him, so she layered two, three—impenetrable.
Boom!
The Fire Walls exploded suddenly.
An Seong-ho lost track of Kim Jun in the blast.
Kim Jun appeared at Bang Yun-a’s right.
Thud.
She tumbled back.
The walls dissipated.
How he closed in, dodged Fireballs, breached the layers—no clue.
An Seong-ho sidled to Choi Muhyun.
“What happened?”
“Cheon Noe Byeok.”
“...What’s that?”
“Yeon Ga tanking skill. He picked it up recently. Used it when the Fire Walls blocked vision—shattered three layers and landed a clean hit. No dealer’s fake shield beats a real tanker’s.”
An Seong-ho logged off, grabbed his leaderbook from his bag, and searched “Cheon Noe Byeok.”
Speechless.
It wasn’t for just anyone. Even in Yeon Ga, only elites learned it—a technique needing Cheonnoe Heart Technique as base.
When did he master that?
Worse: repurposing a defensive tank skill for offense. No records of aggressive use.
Probably his innovation.
Tank basics: stillness in motion. Rooted like a tree, absorbing any monster hit.
Most tank skills activated stationary—for max power.
An Seong-ho rushed back into the simulator.
The duel wasn’t over. Bang Yun-a raged, unleashing Fireball, Fire Arrow, even Fire Boomerang.
Kim Jun dodged with Mokhonbo, but damage piled: clothes charred, hair and brows singed.
“What’s going on?”
An Seong-ho asked Choi Muhyun.
“Best of three.”
Simple.
Bang Yun-a throwing another fit.
An Seong-ho’s face burned. He was one of three leaders who’d agreed to reorganization. Her antics shamed Do Jin-yong and him too.
Then Bang Yun-a pulled a Red Cube.
Skyla, recognizing it, warned everyone.
“Back up.”
Simulators allowed any registered item. Red Cube meant Bang Yun-a owned the flame amplifier.
Worth hundreds of millions—billions for top grades—it boosted mana and siphoned ambient heat, one-use.
The crimson cube dissolved, shrouding her.
Empowered, she reached for the lava river.
It surged, flooding toward Kim Jun like a tsunami.
An Seong-ho gaped at the spectacle. She’d toughed it out, then crushed him. No dodging or blocking that lava flood.
Something gleamed—flew.
Shunk.
A sword in Bang Yun-a’s triumphant chest.
An Seong-ho realized late.
Cheonroegeom!
As she knelt, lava engulfed Kim Jun.
Then... it swept the rest too, relentless.
* * *
Bang Yun-a exited the simulator, sweat-soaked, eyes vacant.
An Seong-ho approached slowly, offering a towel.
“Don’t need it.”
She headed to the briefing room.
He followed, towel in hand.
She stood by the whiteboard, glaring at Kim Jun wiping sweat.
All eyes on them. No one intervened— their issue.
Kim Jun won two of three. She’d needed Red Cube for one hard-fought victory. 2:1—Kim Jun stayed leader.
But her simulator tantrum meant trouble if she balked.
“Total loss. You win.”
“Luck.”
“Luck my ass. Even with Red Cube, I lost. How’d you think to throw your sword then? Wanted to crush me that bad? Fine, throw me a bone once. If it’s your wish, I’ll call you team leader. Where’s my spot?”
Tension evaporated.
An Seong-ho figured she’d won the last—sword pierced before lava hit.
“No assigned seats. First come, first served.”
Kim Jun said.
“Got it.”
Bang Yun-a sat beside him, staring at Yeom Sang-taek. He scooted over smartly. She claimed it—no leadership, but leader’s side was non-negotiable.
Kim Jun stepped forward.
“Anyone else challenging?”
Eyes flicked to An Seong-ho and Do Jin-yong.
Lips sealed.
“Looks settled. Training time.”
Choi Muhyun stood.
“Yeah.”
Skyla rose too.
“You three are new today—no stamina training required.”
Kim Jun said.
They filed out, circling the vast warehouse edge as a track, running.
An Seong-ho glanced at Do Jin-yong and Bang Yun-a, then joined. He craved Pink Team’s relic endurance secret—their 19:34 holdout—and how Kim Jun dominated her.
Three laps in, Do Jin-yong and Bang Yun-a joined.
An Seong-ho smirked.
Relentless drive to win burned in their eyes—no matter the odds.