Discipline 11. The Disciplinary Committee Leader Purges the Villain Syndicate (4)
Just over ten minutes earlier.
Secretary Park Min-hyuk had been rescued.
Now all Oh Baek-seo had to do was carry out her assignment.
Umbrella in hand—the one Ahn Woo-jin had given her before leaving—Baek-seo gazed quietly up at the sky, her fingers idly tapping the poor, blameless handle.
"……"
Woo-jin had ordered the executives not to ask questions and simply follow his instructions.
Baek-seo had been assigned to subdue Anomia's top executive and the syndicate's leader, but she had no idea how Woo-jin had pinpointed their location.
That was a question for later. For now, she would simply follow orders.
It wasn't merely out of sentiment, either. Baek-seo kept a clean line between public duty and personal feelings.
Woo-jin was a man worth following. That was all there was to it. There was no other reason.
Except—separate from all that—she was worried about him.
Anomia was a villain syndicate whose infamy spread far and wide, one that kept exceptionally talented dropouts among its executives. It was easy to predict that Woo-jin would soon find himself facing dangerous enemies.
So now that he and the secretary had joined up with her, Baek-seo wanted nothing more than to finish her task quickly and get to Woo-jin's side. Only with him within reach of her hand could she truly rest easy.
Tap, tap.
Without warning, a man in a tailored trench coat stepped into Baek-seo's path. He stopped and glared at her.
"Ah. There you are," Baek-seo asked, her voice as soft and gentle as ever as she took him in.
It wasn't hard to guess that this man was 'AQ,' the top Anomia executive Woo-jin had spoken of. The mana pouring off him, taut with alertness, rivaled that of the Mahyeon High Disciplinary Committee Leader himself.
"The Disciplinary Committee… How did you know we were here?" AQ demanded, his tone openly hostile.
"We simply follow our Leader's instructions, you see."
Baek-seo answered in her usual kindly voice, but her eyes weren't smiling in the least.
Today was a bad day for horoscopes. A fellow committee member had been dragged away and put through something ugly; Woo-jin had been lured into a trap. It seemed the Disciplinary Committee had been taken for easy marks.
Worse still, the time she'd spent walking under an umbrella beside Woo-jin had been cut short midway because of these people. She was no longer even in a position to voice that small regret aloud.
The one mercy was that her anger had a very clear target.
"I see…"
AQ narrowed his eyes and smirked.
He didn't bother probing how Baek-seo had come to be here. He had already heard plenty about the Ahseong High Disciplinary Committee Leader.
Woo-jin's information network was beyond what words like "first-rate" could describe. Even AQ, a man who lived for nothing but combat, couldn't help feeling a genuine respect for his enemy's capabilities.
By all appearances, Woo-jin already knew Anomia's vital secrets inside and out. So there was no need to ask why Oh Baek-seo had identified the leader's location and was lying in wait here. It was all Woo-jin's handiwork, down to the last detail.
"Oh Baek-seo. I've wanted to cross blades with you for a long time."
AQ spread both arms wide to his sides.
Shing! Long blades hidden within his sleeves shot out in an instant, their keen edges glinting as they drank in the rain.
"You—the once-in-a-generation genius of Neo Seoul…!"
AQ was a man who had pursued battle and battle alone. He called himself an evil spirit.
He was Anomia's greatest asset, a powerhouse who stood out even in Neo Seoul. No matter how many fights he'd taken, he had never known defeat. With his combat prowess, even a Tier 6 like Oh Baek-seo held no terrors for him.
Or so he believed. He expected to surmount her with ease.
Whooooosh!
A powerful wind-element mana coiled around AQ's blades.
"Come at me, Oh Baek-seo! Let me prove that I, the evil spirit of Neo Seoul, am stronger than you—!"
Ten seconds later.
"Guh… haah…"
The self-proclaimed evil spirit lay rolling across the ground, covered head to toe in wounds. The only thing left in him was a pitiful death rattle—and even that he couldn't manage properly.
Blade in hand, Baek-seo flung a binding-type mana tool through the air. Crack! Several hardened belts sprang out of it in a heartbeat and cinched AQ down where he lay.
Then Baek-seo turned her steps toward the high-rise building AQ had emerged from.
The moment she entered the lobby, combat drones and turrets, along with Anomia's elite troops, rose up to greet her, all snapping into battle stances at once.
But when a beautiful mana of mingled blue and violet flowed quietly outward—like the flap of a butterfly's wings—every combat robot was cleaved in two, and Anomia's soldiers collapsed screaming.
It wasn't elemental mana. It wasn't a Unique Ability, either.
Using nothing but the most basic of skills available to a Tier 3—'Body Reinforcement' and 'Equipment Reinforcement'—Baek-seo swept the entire battlefield clean with flashes of her blade.
"Oh Baek-seo…!"
Top floor office. The entrance to a secret passage.
Anomia's leader, briefed in advance on the situation, had hidden himself and launched a surprise attack. But Baek-seo batted the strike aside with ease and brought him down with the flat of her scabbard.
Thud! Whump!
"Gghk!"
The fight wasn't even a fight.
"How…? How the hell did you know I was here…?"
The leader asked with a face drained of all color.
Baek-seo shrugged.
"Our Leader is quite capable. He seems to have prepared for everything."
There is always a faster runner above the one who runs. And if you never lift your head, you never even learn that faster runners exist.
The leader ground his teeth, his body trembling, until at last he gave himself up to resignation.
He had been far too arrogant. Hadn't the hints that Disciplinary Committee Leader Ahn Woo-jin was someone he must not touch right now come pouring in, almost kindly so? Even this genius before him—who had brushed AQ aside like an afterthought—lowered her head to no one but Ahn Woo-jin.
Convinced that Woo-jin had seen through every one of his plans, anxious that his organization might be annihilated at any moment, he had grown impatient. He had let himself believe he could beat him.
That had been his fatal mistake.
A second chance was never coming.
Crack!
"Ughk!"
Baek-seo knocked the leader unconscious with her scabbard, then spoke into her earpiece.
"This side's wrapped up too. Leader… I'll come see you soon."
The task assigned to Baek-seo boasted the highest difficulty of them all, yet she found it not the least bit taxing.
Afterward, Oh Baek-seo left the scene to the 2nd and 3rd squads and headed for Grey Star.
Once she actually met Woo-jin, though, she showed no particular reaction. She simply stayed by his side, without ever leaving, while he commanded the scene late into the night.
……
In the chaos of cleaning up after the incident, several days slipped by in a blur.
News that Anomia had been captured spread across the internet like wildfire.
Except…
Why is it me they're spotlighting instead of the Disciplinary Committee…?
The online coverage wasn't focused on Ahseong High's Disciplinary Committee—it was focused on the Disciplinary Committee Leader.
Naturally so. It was all because of Lee Ji-su's ZTube broadcast. To the viewers, this incident was more sensational material even than the Swordmaster of Sindorim's duel request.
I never saw this coming, at least not at the start…
Lee Ji-su never streamed live during gameplay, so I hadn't anticipated it at all. I clutched my throbbing head.
This was a problem.
Neo Seoul is crawling with eccentric challengers who go hunting for people stronger than they have any right to be… At this rate, I might even become a target of the Six Sinners…
What am I supposed to do about this…
The Swordmaster of Sindorim had been fine. The guy was Tier 4, and a duel between two Tier 4s was, at worst, a simple fluke of an event. But this situation was different—a Tier 4 had taken down two Tier 5s, ones with notorious reputations at that.
I'd just finished clearing away one nuisance called Anomia, and now there was a real risk that even worse nuisances would sprout up like bamboo shoots after the rain.
The absolute worst-case scenario was the Six Sinners marking me as prey.
Especially that utterly incomprehensible Sinner, Goliath—if he showed up tomorrow, that would be the end of me, full stop. That man hunts for strength. I could not afford to let him think of me as game.
Which meant the spotlight was better trained on the phrase "Disciplinary Committee" as a whole.
In other words, articles along the lines of "How did a Tier 4 beat two Tier 5 powerhouses?" and "Just how vast is the Ahseong High Disciplinary Committee Leader's potential?" needed to be suppressed as much as possible.
The press conference didn't help either…
Because the incident had grown so famous, our committee had been forced to lay out the full sequence of events at a press conference. Between Lee Ji-su's ZTube broadcast and the fact that we'd dismantled Anomia itself, the whole thing had drawn serious attention. Details still under investigation were withheld from disclosure.
Plenty of reporters naturally asked about how I'd beaten two Tier 5s, and I answered in a way that played up Yoo Do-ha's contributions instead.
And yet every article that went up online did nothing but hammer home my heroics—and the ZTube broadcast, which the public had watched with their own eyes, must have accounted for a huge share of that credit.
It reminded me, once again, that people only hear what they want to hear.
Ugh, please, just let me slip past unnoticed…
I could only pray that the eccentric challengers who hunted the strong, and the Six Sinners above them, would let me be… Because I was scared.
…Then again, with this, Anomia's defeat is official now.
Disciplinary Committee executive office.
I straightened my posture and mulled it over while reading the incident report on Anomia.
Anomia was finished now. With their head captured along with every executive capable of replacing him, there was no way the organization could hold itself together.
No—if anything, they were already annihilated, as far as I was concerned.
How had it gone in the game?
In the original story, Anomia lost to the protagonist's party, weakened, and went into hiding. Then, at some point, the organization collapsed for unknown reasons.
Much like the mafia syndicate Dohwapa, the one Lee Se-ah belonged to. Whether they fractured internally as their strength waned, or were swallowed whole by another villain syndicate while they were vulnerable…
Now that the day's actually come, it's nagging at me. Why did they fall in the game?
The reason had grown oddly fascinating.
The same went for Lee Se-ah, who was destined to become a power broker of the Black Market. Why had she died? Why had the mafia been wiped out to the last man?
These were questions I'd carried for a long time, but I'd always shelved them. There was no way the me of now could learn what the game itself had never clearly explained.
And if the Six Sinners had nothing to do with that backstory, there was even less reason for me to care.
The problem was—
If the Six Sinners DO have something to do with it…
What if the collapse of Anomia and the mafia in the game was tied to the Six Sinners?
There was one suspected link: the patron who had funneled enormous sums of sponsorship money into Anomia. The community had long speculated that this backer was one of the Six Sinners. In other words, digging into this incident might just yield a clue about them.
Tracking the Six Sinners was a critical matter. Rather than scrambling to respond whenever they caused an incident, it was far better for us to strike first, on our own initiative.
Something smells off here…
Maybe because my game knowledge was starting to interconnect. I had a foreboding feeling—like I still knew nothing, but some massive event was quietly linking itself together.
…I didn't even want to think about that.
Well, it's not something I can judge yet anyway.
It was a question for after we identified the backers. All I could do was hope this premonition proved empty.
Speaking of which…
I shifted my gaze toward the table.
There sat Secretary Park Min-hyuk, hammering away at his laptop keyboard for all he was worth, working without pause.
The press conference statement for the Anomia case, the report sent to the Police Academy over jurisdictional issues, the incident chronology, the case files—Min-hyuk had taken charge of drafting all of it, throwing himself into the work without rest.
I remembered the scene at Grey Star while we were cleaning up. Min-hyuk had shed tears and thanked me over and over. When I'd said only, "Good work," and silently clapped him on the shoulder as I passed, his eyes had lit up like stars. Ever since then, he'd been in this overdrive state.
Min-hyuk carried memories of being ganged up on and beaten. Because of that, I'd worried the incident might have left him with fresh trauma, but at the moment he didn't look like a man tormented by anything of the sort.
There was, however, one new problem.
"Min-hyukkie… pace yourself, okay? You're gonna collapse at this rate," Ha Ye-song said carefully from across the table. Even she seemed to have agonized over whether to say it.
Min-hyuk shook his head, firm and resolute.
"This is the only way I can repay my Leader, who is like heaven itself to me."
"Heaven… Yeah, well, I mean, living this earnestly beats being stuffed in a trash can like usual, so…"
Ye-song turned her eyes toward me. Apparently she couldn't endure Min-hyuk's litany of praise and had decided to abort the conversation.
She asked me with her eyes: Is it okay to just leave him like this?
I answered with a nod.
Being showered with praise made me deeply uncomfortable, but leaving him be was probably for the best. It's a good thing when your members give you that kind of loyalty, after all.
Ye-song let out a strange, "Hoooh…" of a sigh and left the office early.
……
When evening came, the sunset painted the sky for the first time in ages—the rainy season was finally over.
I sipped green tea while reading through incident-handling reports. This particular file had nothing to do with Anomia.
Right, I need to start prepping for midterms too.
The Disciplinary Committee took on proctoring duty for every exam and large-scale practical evaluation—teacher manpower was critically scarce in a city where adults were few and far between.
Proctoring arrangements were already settled, and the preparations were entering their final stage. That said, entirely separate from that, I had my own midterms to study for. I'd braced myself for the workload, but not for this much… Thank goodness I'd drilled my previews thoroughly over the break.
"Leader."
Baek-seo called to me from across the table.
"Want to eat this while you work? I bought some snacks."
She held up a case as she spoke—a case decorated with a picture of cookies.
Snacks, huh. Sounded like a good excuse for a breather.
"Sure, why not."
As I settled into the seat across from her, a cup of black tea caught my eye, already set before me.
"You made tea too?"
"You seemed like you'd want cookies with it. Just killing two birds with one stone," Baek-seo replied with an air of refined elegance.
My Vice Leader knew me far too well. Spending time with her felt like having a girlfriend of five-plus years sitting beside you. I couldn't say exactly what that feeling was, but the comparison fit.
"Thanks for the food."
I flipped open the case and popped a cookie in my mouth. A perfectly ordinary sweet cookie.
But it was good.
"Did you see the mail?"
Baek-seo tossed out a conversation starter.
"Mail? Not yet."
"They're giving you an award for capturing Anomia, apparently. The 'Platinum Mileage,' I mean."
"……!"
No way.
Whoa…!
That was huge. I'd been so buried in work lately that it hadn't even crossed my mind.
Mileage.
Merit points conferred when a student's honorable achievements raised the academy's name and standing. The academy recommends a candidate to the Federal Board, and once the Board accepts—"yes, this one deserves mileage"—the mileage is granted. Alternatively, the Federal Board could designate recipients directly.
Mileage came in four grades: Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum.
And Platinum was the highest of them all—one of the supreme honors reserved for those whose exploits benefited the entire academy city.
With Platinum Mileage, you could access the Platinum shop, or have a Platinum-grade blacksmith forge a weapon that was yours and yours alone.
"Not bad."
I answered with studied nonchalance, fighting to keep the corners of my mouth from climbing.
Hoooo.
If I got Platinum Mileage, what would I do with it?
The answer was already decided.
Weapon forging! Finally, I get to make my OWN weapon…!
I clenched my fist and did a little victory dance on the inside.
So this is what gratitude feels like…!
Every man, without exception, dreams of owning a special weapon of his very own. From the moment I realized I'd been reborn into this world, that romance had been one of my basics, naturally.
My main weapon, the three-section staff, was a plain, mass-issued piece of standard equipment. That was exactly why I wanted a new weapon in the three-section staff line—my hands already knew its rhythms, and it excelled at suppression work above all else.
And to think I could have it forged by a Platinum-grade blacksmith…!
I was one heartbeat away from doing a moonwalk in front of Baek-seo, vaulting out the window, and whooping at the top of my lungs.
"You look pleased with yourself."
"…Can't complain. It IS Platinum Mileage, after all."
Baek-seo grinned and poked right at what I was thinking. As pleased as I was, I couldn't go damaging my image. Thankfully, I kept my expression in check and chewed my cookie in dignified silence.
"Leader."
"What is it?"
"I want an award too. As a token of a job well done—won't you give me one?"
"…Me?"
Baek-seo nodded.
It was a request I hadn't seen coming. An award, all of a sudden?
"I'd say I've more than earned the right to one."
"That's… yeah, I think so too. Then, hmm…"
An award, huh.
Truthfully, without Baek-seo, we might never have purged Anomia completely. Rewarding her contributions was only right and proper.
Splitting my Platinum Mileage in half… was impossible. The system was designed to forbid gifting outright, since transferring mileage to anyone but the owner left far too much room for abuse. Anything resembling it was illegal, too.
So what award could I even give…?
Something where the math worked out for both of us… Nothing came to mind. I certainly couldn't hand over my most expensive possession, the wall-forged staff…
Just as I was racking my brain over it—
"Hmm?"
Out of nowhere, Baek-seo leaned her upper body toward me and commandeered my right arm.
Then, with my hand—pat, pat—she stroked her own head with it.
"?"
What is she doing…?
Baek-seo had her eyes closed, savoring the touch of my hand.
Partway through, she let go of my arm. Taking the hint, I kept stroking her soft hair in the same rhythm she'd set with it.
Quiet settled over us, and a strange embarrassment washed in. And through it all, my head was a swirl of confusion.
"Baek-seo?"
"Don't overthink it, dear. Something like this is plenty."
Baek-seo opened her eyes slowly and held my gaze, steady and unblinking.
"This one I did NOT see coming."
"Even I want to act spoiled sometimes, you know. I'm your subordinate, aren't I? When I get head pats from my superior too, it makes me happy, that's all."
Doesn't it embarrass you to say that about yourself…?
"……"
I couldn't bring myself to ask.
A flush had risen in Baek-seo's face under the glow of the sunset. She was probably enjoying herself and mortified about it in equal measure.
She's absurdly cute…
I was reminded, every single time, why they called Baek-seo a goddess, but never more than in this exact moment.
She was a genuinely beautiful girl. And she had a remarkably adorable side, too.
Before I knew it, I was actually enjoying stroking her hair myself. It was like petting a particularly sweet puppy—there was a real satisfaction in it.
"……"
"……"
We passed the time in that quiet, and then a single realization struck me.
Thinking about this rationally—isn't this an incredibly awkward situation…?
"Shall we call it here?" Baek-seo asked with a gentle smile.
Awkward as it was, my head shook side to side on its own.
"Would it be all right if I kept going…?"
"?"
Baek-seo stared at me, her big eyes blinking wide open.
Embarrassing as it was, I didn't want to just let the moment slide past.
Everything Baek-seo did for me was something to be grateful for. If something as small as stroking her hair could make her happy, then I would gladly keep doing it forever—heart palpitations and embarrassment be damned.
At my earnest question, Baek-seo seemed to consider it briefly, then smiled warmly.
"…Okay."
She leaned in a little closer. When that lovely face drew near, I flinched in surprise, but I kept up the slow, steady strokes all the same. Like a puppy, she basked in my hand.
Baek-seo's feelings were usually hard to read, but today, today of all days, they seemed to come through clear as anything.
If Baek-seo had a tail, I couldn't help thinking, it would be raised high right now, swaying back and forth without a care in the world.
That image drifted into my mind unbidden.
Adorable.
The imagination alone was enough to leave me thoroughly content.