Shovels and Spears, Screams and Cheers
A battlefield where shovels and spears clashed wildly amid screams and cheers.
“Uwaaaah!”
“Gahk!”
“You filthy cult fanatics...!”
“What the hell are you yapping about, you lunatics? Throwing dirt like cowards?”
“Better than your damn tteokbokki, you crazies!”
The evenly matched battle began tilting decisively to one side. The Tteokbokki Cult, which had started with around three hundred members, was now down to just a hundred, fighting desperately. Their opponents, the Sapjaru-dan, still had nearly two hundred left standing. Compared to the Sapjaru-dan's original five hundred, it was clear the Tteokbokki Cult had put up a solid fight.
But that was all. For the losers, there was nothing but the hollow praise of “You fought well, even in defeat.”
In war, nothing mattered more than numbers.
The Sapjaru-dan burst into laughter as they looked down on the defeated.
“Sap haha! Time to surrender!”
“The outcome was decided from the start!”
“Drop the stubborn act and come out already!”
The Tteokbokki-dan Uijang, too exhausted to even respond, leaned against his spear, gasping raggedly.
“Hah... haah...”
One Sapjaru-dan member pressed a shovel to his throat.
“Say it now.”
“Hah... say what?”
“That you're surrendering. That you'll clear the path immediately.”
The Uijang ground his teeth.
Then he shouted.
“Never!”
The Sapjaru-dan member raised his shovel with a resigned sigh.
“Don't hate me for this!”
Too weak to dodge, the Uijang simply squeezed his eyes shut.
...This is it, then.
Thwack—
“Guhk.”
The descending shovel clattered to the ground instead, its wielder crumpling with a dagger buried in his temple.
The Uijang's eyes flew open in shock as a dark shadow darted toward him.
“Uijang-nim!”
“...Jang Wusan?”
“You're safe!”
“Yes, I am.”
Jang Wusan whispered urgently into the Uijang's ear.
“Hura-nim says to run!”
“...What?”
The Uijang's eyes widened, but Jang Wusan urged him on, time running short.
“Hurry! Or I'll drag you away myself!”
“...Understood.”
The Uijang nodded slowly.
Since he let Jang Wusan go free, it looks like he got what he wanted, whatever it was.
That meant they no longer had to uphold the three conditions Hura had proposed.
Gathering his remaining strength, the Uijang bellowed.
“Tteokbokki Cult! Retreat!”
The surviving members protested.
“We're running away?”
“What about Hura-nim?”
“This isn't a retreat,” the Uijang said. “Truth is, Hura-nim asked me something in secret. He told me to keep it to myself until now.”
“...! What was it?”
“I'll explain later. Retreat for now!”
With that, the Tteokbokki Cult fell back en masse.
“Retreat!”
“Fall back, quick!”
Watching them go, the Sapjaru-dan erupted in cheers.
“Sap haha! About time!”
“Victory is ours! Tteokbokki Cult!”
“Sap haha!”
The Sapjaru-dan celebrated their triumph.
Then, a massive explosion roared from afar.
Kwaaaaaaaaang—!!
“Wh-what was that?!”
Kwaaaang—!!
A second blast shook the earth violently.
“Sis!”
The cameraman filming from the tree called out urgently to the reporter.
Niimorul Chataseo stared back in equal shock.
“This one's definitely Rank 8!”
They'd ignored the earlier noise to focus on the Tteokbokki Cult-Sapjaru-dan clash, but this was impossible to brush off.
With the battle over, the two turned toward the source of the explosions.
“Sap Gisa must be here, sis!”
“Let's go!”
“Wait! Hold on.”
The cameraman peered into his lens at the battlefield.
Someone was sprinting through the aftermath.
“...Huh? That's...”
“It's Hura! The chef Hura!”
“Hura-nim!”
The Sapjaru-dan and retreating Tteokbokki Cult shouted as Hura dashed somewhere.
As people moved to chase him, another Hura appeared.
“...Huh?”
“What the—?!”
“Why are there two Huras?”
“Two Hura-nims? What's going on?!”
“Which one's the real Hura?!”
Amid the murmurs, a third Hura bolted past.
“...!”
“Three... three Hura-nims?!”
“What the hell...!”
“How is this even possible?!”
The crowd fell into total panic, too stunned to pursue as the three Huras raced off in different directions.
“What in the world...?”
Confusion reigned even up in the tree.
“Uh, which one do I film?”
The camera frantically panned between the three.
Time ticked by, the Huras vanishing farther apart.
“Tch! Head to the sure thing first! Follow me!”
Niimorul Chataseo leaped from the tree with bold resolve.
“Got it!”
The cameraman followed suit.
They arrived at the explosion site.
“...!”
“What the...”
A massive crater gaped before them, like a meteor strike.
But its creators were nowhere in sight.
“Sap Gisa was definitely here...”
Niimorul Chataseo muttered, hopping into the pit.
“The question is, who was he fighting? We saw Hura running off, so probably not him.”
She touched the ground.
“Hmm...”
Intense heat still lingered.
“...This heat. Someone who could match Rank 8, Sap Gisa...”
One name came to mind, but she shook her head.
“Nah, no way.”
If it was her, she'd drop the filming and bolt—or stake her life on capturing the scoop.
“Sis, we're here—might as well film.”
The cameraman, shooting close-ups of the crater, prompted her.
“...Huh? Oh, right.”
Niimorul Chataseo positioned herself for the perfect shot, cleared her throat, and gripped the mic.
“Ahem. Ahem.”
“Going live! 3, 2, 1! Action!”
She flashed a bright smile into the mic.
“Hello! This is Panwol Emo Jjomo! We're at the buzzworthy heart of the action in Harten, right outside the handmade instant ramen shop. In the midst of the Tteokbokki Cult and Sapjaru-dan clash, we heard an enormous explosion. Rushing over, we found this massive crater.”
She crouched low, continuing.
“It looks like a huge blast went off—the ground's still scorching hot to the touch. Circumstances point to Rank 8, Sap Gisa, making an appearance. But who was he fighting? We don't know yet. Was it chef Hura, or a new player on the scene? We'll keep digging! This has been Panwol Emo Jjomo!”
“Cut! That's a wrap!”
“Let's move!”
Niimorul Chataseo dashed off without pause. One camera, endless footage to capture.
* * *
Tatadah—
Hura sprinted onward.
“...Tch.”
Glancing back, he ran for his life.
Behind him, something burrowed like a mole, pursuing at terrifying speed.
Ku-gu-gu-gu—!
It overtook him in a flash, bursting out right in his path.
“Sap haha! Where's the fire?”
Sap Gisa emerged from the earth, pink cape fluttering, blocking him.
Then, oddly polite, he extended a hand.
“Pleased to meet you. Sorry we couldn't chat earlier.”
Hura glared and slapped the hand away.
“Oho. Tougher than you look. Excellent!”
Chuckling, Sap Gisa got straight to it.
“Let's have a go.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“My call.”
“Sap haha! Don't be so standoffish—play with me!”
Kwak—
Sap Gisa slammed his shovel into the ground.
Crack-crack—
Yanking it up heaved a house-sized chunk of earth into the air.
“...!”
“Sap haha! Feeling feisty now?”
He hurled the mass skyward. Hura yelled from atop it.
“Summon! Extend!”
The Magic Ladle bloomed from his hand, stretching—shuk—to snag the edge.
“Shrink!”
Pop—
Hura rocketed away at blinding speed.
“Ooh! Impressive!”
Sap Gisa leaped after him in admiration.
Pop—
“Amazing! How'd you do that?”
“You maniac!”
Despite his velocity, Sap Gisa caught up effortlessly, appearing right above him mid-flight.
“Fun! So much fun! This is the stuff!”
Grinning maniacally, he swung the overhead shovel down.
“Thrilling!”
Whoosh—
The blow, packed with immense power, cleaved empty air—Hura was already gone.
“Shrink!”
From the moment Sap Gisa appeared, Hura had hooked the ladle on a nearby branch.
“Ngh!”
His arm nearly tore off, but he dodged the strike by a hair.
“Ooh! Dodging that?!”
Sap Gisa landed, marveling, then sprang toward Hura on the branch.
“Sap haha!”
“Summon!”
Hura called the Moonlight Frying Pan, positioning it at a predicted spot.
Invisible in motion, but the landing was obvious.
Clang—!
“Guhk!”
Moonlight Frying Pan's special effect: Opponent stunned with 100% probability.
He'd basically headbutted the pan himself. Skyrocketing at full speed, Sap Gisa smashed into it with equal force.
His pink helmet plume whipped as he plummeted to earth.
“Ngh!”
A normal pan would've shattered. But the indestructible Moonlight Frying Pan slipped from Hura's grip under the sheer impact.
Staying calm, he seized the chance to flee.
“Extend! Shrink!”
Pop—
As Hura bolted desperately, lightning struck—or rather, like when Sap Gisa had wrecked his kitchen.
Recovered from stun, Sap Gisa rode his shovel down at blinding speed.
Kwaaaaaang—!!
Planting it on Hura, he muttered in disbelief upon landing.
“...A clone, huh.”
A mad laugh bubbled up.
“Kuhk... kehhehe... Sap haha! Sap hahahaha!!”
Shaking his head in admiration, Sap Gisa mounted his shovel like a pogo stick and bounced high.
Boing—
He spotted Hura tearing through the forest ahead.
“Aha! There you are!”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Riding his shovel, Sap Gisa pursued gleefully. Each landing warped the ground viciously.
“Sap hahaha! Stop running!”
Pink eyes gleamed with frenzy.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Seeing him close in, Hura screamed and fled for dear life.
“Uwaaaah!! You psycho! Total psycho!”
Kwaang—!!
The shovel slammed ahead of him.
“Kyaaak!”
Pink plume fluttered, cape billowed. Maniacal pink eyes locked on Hura.
“Hey there?”
Frozen mid-scream, Hura stared blankly at the superhuman astride the shovel.
“Damn these clones—what the hell are they doing, buying time?!”
Sap Gisa smirked at his outburst.
“Aha. Looks like I found the real one this time.”
Hura glared, bluffing boldly.
“Ah, I don't wanna fight. Just kill me.”
“Heh... You say that, but when the shovel gets close, you all fight like hell to survive.”
Aiming his shovel, Sap Gisa continued.
“Hmph. Then just kill me.”
Hura strode forward, pressing his throat to the blade without hesitation.
Sap Gisa flinched, pulling back.
“Wh-what're you doing? This thing's sharper than it looks.”
Hura scoffed.
“I'm no ranker. Got nothing to lose, so just kill me already.”
“Huh? Wha—?”
Hura advanced, shoving his throat at the shovel repeatedly. Sap Gisa retreated, eventually hiding it behind his back.
“C-come on, let's have a fair fight instead. Just once. You can die after. Deal?”
“No.”
“It'll be quick.”
“Said no.”
Sap Gisa's pink eyes wavered. No one he'd met had reacted like this.
“What'll it take for you to fight me?”
“Not happening. Buzz off.”
“Hah, but dying drops your stats hard, right? And you've got something big going on—business booming, loaded with cash?”
“Not your concern. Kill me and scram.”
Sap Gisa swallowed hard.
...This guy's no ordinary nutcase.
Clasping his hands politely, he pleaded.
“...Please. Just once. One round. That's all I ask.”
“Why bother? Kill me, you win. Good for me, good for you. Win-win.”
“But...”
“Kill me! Do it quick!”
Hura closed in, chest-bumping Sap Gisa provocatively, yelling wildly. Molrangkau or Dahyun would've freaked.
Sap Gisa backed away, flustered.
“B-but that means nothing! No fun!”
Hura tsked, fishing something from his pocket.
“Tch. If you won't kill me, I will.”
“Wh-what're you—?”
A sharp dagger emerged.
“Die already!”
“Stop!”
Sap Gisa grabbed Hura's hand.
“Let go!”
“Why?! Life's precious!”
“Fighting's worse than dying—what else can I do?”
“Please, calm down. I'll find a way.”
“No! I'm dying! Uwaaa!!”
“Ngh!”
Sap Gisa snatched the dagger and gripped the blade tight.
Clang!
It shattered effortlessly.
“Phew...”
He sighed in relief.
“...”
Hura pulled another dagger from his pocket.
“Hya!”
“Uwaah! How many do you have?!”
“No one stops my suicide express!”
“Please! I'm begging! Stop!”
“No!”
“What'll make you quit?! Name it!!”
Sap Gisa's yell halted Hura's antics.
“...Anything?”
“Yes! Anything! Just say it.”
“Promise not to fight me.”
“...Anything but that.”
Hura pondered, then spoke.
“...I do have a game I wanna play.”
Jeil Hura grinned wickedly, identical to the original—an unsettling sight that unnerved Sap Gisa.