Hidden Bombs
“Those are the ones? The assassins Father gave to Yeon-ah this time.”
In front of the screen broadcasting the rooftop situation, a man's question echoed through the room. The one who asked wasn't anyone else—it was Jin Hyun-cheol's second son, Jin Tae-hyeon. And the one who answered was Jin Hyun-cheol's eldest son, Jin Seong-hun.
“Yeah. I heard he brought them in from the Back World.”
“Using lawless thugs from the Back World as assassins... doesn't sit right with me.”
“Still, their skills must be the real deal. Otherwise, there's no way fragile little Yeon-ah would've asked Father to assign them to her.”
“What, Yeon-ah asked herself? Directly to Father?”
The words that Jin Yeon-ah had personally asked Jin Hyun-cheol to assign them to her. At Jin Seong-hun's story, Jin Tae-hyeon wore an incredulous expression.
Who was Jin Yeon-ah? Their little sister, the clumsy and weak kid from childhood. Sure, unlike the days when she was just cute, she was more composed and mature now, but she still had that air of inexperience in many ways. Especially in front of their father, Jin Hyun-cheol, where she'd shrink back without realizing it—that was Jin Yeon-ah. The only times she ever voiced an opinion were when she was absolutely sure of herself.
So if she'd gone straight to him begging for them, it meant she had full confidence in her exclusive assassin and her subordinates' abilities.
“If Yeon-ah personally requested it... maybe we should take a look. See just how good these assassins are.”
“If things go south, all of Baek Ya-seong's forces on the rooftop will step in, so no need to worry.”
How skilled could they be for Jin Yeon-ah to trust them so much? They'd only met a few days ago, as far as he knew, but that only heightened their curiosity. The two men focused intently on the screen.
And on that screen they were glued to, the enemies drew their weapons one by one. Daggers, pistols, wires—armed with all sorts of gear, they prepared for battle.
But among those weapons one man pulled out, Jin Seong-hun and Jin Tae-hyeon couldn't help but shout in unison at the sight.
“What the fuck!”
“I heard they used a sniper rifle, but I didn't think they'd go that far out...!”
The enemy at the very back drew not a sniper rifle, but a submachine gun. They couldn't make out the exact model from the screen, but anyone could tell it wasn't one of the only firearms the Central government permitted—pistols.
As the other assassins on the rooftop recoiled in shock, the man laid his finger on the trigger. The instant he pulled it, Jin Yeon-ah's exclusive assassin kicked off the ground and charged forward.
“Is she insane?!”
“She's lost it completely.”
It was practically suicide, and curses flew from Jin Seong-hun's mouth. He looked like he was desperate to die as fast as possible. Faced with such an obvious outcome, the two clicked their tongues—but it didn't take long for that dismay to shift.
Rrrat-tat-tat—!!!
The submachine gun's muzzle erupted in flame, unleashing a torrent of bullets at overwhelming speed.
And every single one of those bullets was deflected by the stiletto in Jin Yeon-ah's exclusive assassin's hand, ricocheting every which way.
Ping-ping-ping-ping-ping—!!!!
Not a single round got through. Every last one.
“...What?”
“What the hell just...?”
Their jaws dropped. The mouths that had tsked moments ago now spilled pure bewilderment and awe at the impossible scene. Their eyes, unblinking, locked onto the screen as murmurs escaped them.
The time it took for their dismay to turn to wonder? Just two seconds while the gun blazed.
When one of the enemies pulled out the submachine gun, it wasn't just the assassins around us who panicked. If anything, we—the ones facing them head-on—freaked out more.
“Those crazy bastards!”
“We kinda expected it from the sniper, but...”
But the panic was short-lived. We'd already been through their sniping firsthand, so it didn't last. And now it wasn't even a sniper rifle, but a submachine gun. No other illegal firearms in sight, so I planted my feet and said,
“I'll take that guy down. You handle the rest.”
“What? How the hell are you gonna do it alone?!”
“You've seen what I can do. Trust me.”
Truth was, I was the only one here who could handle that submachine gun. The bystander assassins were scrambling to the rooftop's edge for cover, while Kwon Ji-yul, Lee Kang-woo, and Kim Woo-jin huddled behind me.
Even if I deflected the bullets, no one else could tank them. Without hesitation, I kicked off the ground and charged.
Thud—!!
The moment I launched, a hail of bullets rained down on me.
Rrrat-tat-tat—!!!
The muzzle flashed as dozens of rounds screamed toward me. Sure, I couldn't deflect sniper rounds, but submachine gun bullets were the same caliber as pistol ammo—I could handle those just fine.
Bullet Time.
Muttering it internally, my nerves accelerated, and the world around me slowed to a crawl.
In that slowed reality, I thrust my stiletto forward, batting away every submachine gun round coming my way.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang—
True to its rapid fire, the bullets pinged off my blade nonstop. But not a single scratch on my stiletto. I'd shelled out a fortune for this custom job, made from carbon-based reinforced alloy. If it cracked from this, I'd be pissed.
Every round deflected harmlessly. But Bullet Time wasn't over yet. I closed in on the guy's shocked face.
His nearby buddies swung weapons to intercept me, but they weren't his only allies.
Our three backup shooters beat them to it. Bullets from pistols and drones pinned down the ones lunging at me.
Real-world time? About a second. More than enough to drag this bastard away.
Thwack—
I grabbed the gunman's face and bolted forward, hauling him with me. Killing him outright would've been easy—just stab through the eye or mouth. But my orders were to subdue, not slaughter.
So I dragged him by the face, putting distance between him and his pals. Once we had space, Bullet Time ended right on cue.
“Gahhh!!!”
The guy screamed, clutching his leg—probably skinned from the drag. Whatever. I ignored him and glanced ahead.
There, Kwon Ji-yul, Lee Kang-woo, and Kim Woo-jin were mopping up the remaining four with teamwork. No need for me to worry. I turned back to my catch.
“What's wrong? Hurt bad?”
“Y-you crazy bitch...! What kind of monster are you?! How the fuck did you block all those bullets...?!”
He spat curses through gritted teeth. He couldn't wrap his head around it, but reality didn't care. I kicked the fallen submachine gun away—mag might be empty, but better safe.
Then, gripping my stiletto reverse, I plunged it into his shoulder.
Squelch—!
“Gaaaaahhh!!!”
“Gotta subdue you, so I'll just wreck your limbs. Might leave permanent damage... but you're moths to a flame anyway, right? Who cares?”
“Y-you psycho... Aaaaghh!!!”
He tried to retort, but a stab through his leg cut him off. Next, the other leg.
Stab. The sensation of piercing flesh traveled up the blade to my fingertips.
“Getting the picture now? That the four of us taking you all down wasn't just talk.”
“Nngh... hrrgh...”
He glared like now's the time for that? But it mattered to me. These guys acted all zen in the face of death—hard to rattle. Crushing their pride was the only way to really grind their gears.
I raised my stiletto for his last arm.
Crunch—!
“...Huh?”
But as it sank into his final limb, something felt off. Not bone—that much I knew from experience; I'd killed plenty. Frowning at the unfamiliar sensation, I twisted the blade. When I sliced open his arm, I saw it.
“Son of a bitch...!”
Beneath the skin of his arm. The bomb he'd hidden there.