Chapter 11
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Infiltrating the Port City
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The air in Trinity Harbor was salty.
Mixed into the sea breeze were hints of salt, iron, and a faint whiff of despair.
This was a major hub where the Trade Federation captured people and shipped them off to mines and labor camps across the land.
From a hill on the outskirts of the city,
Jinwoo peered down at the Federation's massive fortress through binoculars.
Towering walls were studded with watchtowers at regular intervals, gleaming ominously.
The docks were lined with steel-clad Federation warships, hulking like monsters.
"Boss, how the hell are we breaking through that?"
One of the mercenaries standing beside Jinwoo swallowed hard and asked.
"A frontal assault is suicide."
Jinwoo lowered the binoculars and cut him off.
Flashing through his mind were memories from Rising West—countless failed attempts to storm this city head-on.
Trinity Harbor isn't just a fortress. The whole city is a giant trap designed to devour intruders.
It controlled everything: the main gate, the walls, even the skies overhead.
But every perfect defense line always had a backdoor.
And every server had its vulnerabilities.
"The rest of you wait here. When I send the signal, hit the harbor from the opposite side as fast as you can. That's it."
"You're going in alone, Boss?"
"I'll pick some men."
Jinwoo selected the four nimblest gunslingers, excluding himself.
Grime, whose cat-like steps belied his massive frame.
The twins Nil and Nel, who wielded daggers and revolvers in tandem.
And Coyote, the sly old fox of a sniper.
Despite the mercenaries' protests, Jinwoo's resolve was ironclad.
This mission wasn't for dozens of gunslingers—it was a stage for one who knew the clear path.
That night, under clouds veiling even the moonlight, Jinwoo and his team slipped to the darkest, remotest cliff base beneath the harbor.
The crash of waves against rocks perfectly masked their footsteps.
Jinwoo paused and groped along the cliffside submerged in seawater.
Got it.
His fingertips found a smooth, artificial stone texture alien to the surrounding rock.
A common secret passage straight out of Rising West.
The entrance to an old, forgotten sewer drain built to dump the city's waste into the sea.
Using a crowbar, Jinwoo pried open the rusted gate and plunged into the darkness without hesitation.
Cold seawater enveloped his body.
"Damn, it's freezing..."
Luckily, it wasn't deep enough to drown in.
There was headroom at the ceiling, and it was only five meters to swim.
Ignoring the chill, he swam along the channel until a faint light appeared ahead.
At the tunnel's end, beyond rusted iron bars, the Trinity Harbor docks came into view.
It was a blaze of lights.
Dozens of guards patrolled at set intervals.
Snipers were posted on warehouse roofs.
At a glance, it seemed an impenetrable net!
But not really.
Looking closer, the snipers were dozing off, heads nodding.
The guards half-assed their patrols, loafing only in well-lit areas.
Cocky in their home base.
Seizing the gap, Jinwoo and his team melted into the shadows like ghosts.
"Objective is rescue. No firing unless I say so."
Jinwoo slipped silently between warehouses, timing patrols and blind spots.
His four gunslingers nodded without a word at his curt order.
Five shadows leaped soundlessly across warehouse roofs.
Creaky tin panels groaned precariously underfoot, while mana gas lamps cast eerie yellow glows over the foggy sea.
The distant wail of a magisteam train whistle deepened their silence.
Warehouse Seven.
Jinwoo silently pried open a stiff vent cover and dropped into the darkness.
Dusty wooden crates towered in a massive labyrinth.
He gestured.
Signal to begin!
The gunslingers darted through the maze's shadows.
As one guard leaned against a crate, momentarily distracted, a blue flash erupted from Jinwoo's hand.
Shk.
A whisper of air slicing.
The guard collapsed without a sound, sliding down.
Coyote dragged the body into the shadows from behind.
On the other side, Nil and Nel struck simultaneously, daggers plunging into two guards' throats as they clamped mouths shut.
Perfect sync.
The silent slaughter continued.
Pshk! Pshk!
Jinwoo's Infinite Ammo Pistol seemed made for this moment.
Blue flashes from the suppressed barrel severed enemy lifelines without error.
Finally, they reached a massive iron cage at the warehouse's deepest recess.
Inside, dozens of Brightwood villagers huddled in terror.
Jinwoo nodded reassuringly, then aimed at the hefty steel padlock.
"Gonna be loud."
Shk! Clang!
The bullet pierced the lock's core dead-on.
A dull metallic thud, and the mechanism shattered.
A spark of hope lit the villagers' faces.
WOOOOOOOOOOM!
A massive steam alarm shattered the air, shaking the entire harbor.
"...!"
Simultaneously, earth-shaking booms erupted from every warehouse exit.
Kuuuwooooong!
Steam-powered steel shutters slammed down like guillotines.
The warehouse became a steel tomb in seconds.
Then, crackling speakers embedded throughout blared a mechanical voice.
"Welcome, you rats!"
A cold, arrogant voice boomed as if anticipated!
"No wonder the escort didn't show. Rescuers, huh? Right on schedule! Haha! The Trade Federation doesn't slack!"
Mockery poured from the speakers.
"Surrender! You can't escape. It's surrounded outside!"
A perfect death trap, an inescapable encirclement!
"Argh! No! We're all gonna die!"
"This can't be happening!"
The villagers screamed in despair.
Even the battle-hardened Gold Hound elites paled.
Only Jinwoo stayed calm.
This much was expected.
His mind spun colder than ever.
This warehouse has a weak spot.
He remembered.
All walls were reinforced steel—except the west one facing the docks, cheaply patched with thin plating over old wood due to budget cuts.
A setting detail: some Federation builder skimmed funds.
His only way out now.
"Everyone! Take cover behind the central cargo pile!"
His shout sent team and villagers diving for cover.
Alone, he faced the west wall.
"Time for a Wild West showdown."
He dropped the Infinite Ammo Pistol to his hip,
placing his left hand just above the hammer.
Fanning—the gunslinging rapid-fire technique from Westerns!
It traded accuracy for inhuman firing speed.
And Jinwoo needed no reloads.
No recoil, no ammo limits.
Shshshshshshshshshshshshshk!
His left hand blurred into afterimages.
Each slap of his palm on the hammer unleashed a machine-gun burst of blue flashes hammering the west wall.
Savage barrage!
Yet Jinwoo's shots traced a pattern.
Like brushstrokes, he etched a perfect circle of bullet holes in the wall's center.
Kakakakakakakang!
Thin plating tore like paper; old wood splintered into sawdust under the onslaught.
When the gunfire stopped, a massive circular scar scarred the wall.
"Grime!"
The hulking mercenary grasped it and charged.
"Yes, sir!"
"Bust it!"
Kwaaaaaang!
The wall exploded inward, salty night air flooding in.
Federation soldiers encircling outside gaped at the breach.
"How?!"
"Doesn't matter."
Pshk!
A bullet pierced the head of who looked like the guard captain.
That instant, gunfire erupted from the harbor's far side—dozens of shots.
Kwakwakwakwang!
Jinwoo's wall-busting boom was the signal; the waiting Gold Hound main force struck the Federation rear.
"E-enemies! From behind!"
"They're coming from the front too!"
The Federation troops, trapped in their own pincer formation, fell into chaos.
Jinwoo and his infiltration team poured through the breach, unleashing hell on the stunned foes.
The battlefield turned to a hellscape of fire, gunfire, and screams.
Jinwoo shielded the villagers and bellowed,
"Escape! Clear a path!"
Gold Hound moved like clockwork under his command.
Seizing the chaos, Jinwoo led the villagers into the dockside maze of alleys.
Gunfire and screams faded behind.
Jinwoo sensed he'd flipped the board again.
"Where are they? Grab 'em! Chase 'em down!"
Trinity Harbor buzzed like a kicked hive.
Alarms tore the night sky; Federation boots thundered through the city.
But Jinwoo and his unit had vanished into the dark.
The rescue op was a success.
Jinwoo guided everyone through a secret drain linked to the city's old sewage plant, drawing on game knowledge.
The stench stung, but no one complained.
Pursuers' shouts echoing behind proved this foul tunnel was their lifeline.
How much time passed? They finally emerged into the forest beyond the city walls.
As distant clamor faded, relief washed over faces.
"We did it!"
"We... rescued people from a Federation city?!"
One mercenary muttered in awe, sparking cheers everywhere.
The freed Brightwood villagers knelt before Jinwoo, tears streaming.
"Thank you... truly, hero!"
"We'll never forget this grace...!"
Jinwoo accepted silently.
His gaze turned to the Gold Hounds watching him.
Eyes once bound by money and fear now burned with absolute trust and awe for their commander.
"What's next, Boss?"
Coyote asked.
Jinwoo pondered.
This stunt had likely put him at the top of the Federation's hit list.
Hiding in city shadows wouldn't cut it.
He needed overwhelming mobility to shake pursuers.
And words have limits. To outrun them across this vast continent...
An image flashed: a creature racing plains like the wind.
Rising West's ultimate mount, superior to any horse.
As if answering, a new system window appeared.
Main Scenario Linked: Gain the Feet of the Wind
📍 Head to the Ascania Plains and tame the leader of a wild Pellicon pack to welcome a new companion.
🎁 Reward: Legendary-grade Pellicon
A smile tugged at Jinwoo's lips.
Next prey decided.
He ordered the mercenaries,
"Escort the rescued villagers safely to Windhill Village. Pay's generous."
"Got it, Boss. And you...?"
"What about after the mission?"
"I've got a solo errand. Handle Skyfall however."
No more explanation.
Can Gold Hound hold without me?
Didn't matter.
If it did, great. If not, whatever.
From here, things diverged from the original game.
Promising ones can join the rebels.
Long-term, useful for the true ending.
But now, priorities.
Jinwoo turned.
His gaze stretched to the vast wasteland beyond the dawning horizon.
"Time to snag a new ride."