The Simple Rules of Total War
The rules of total war were straightforward. Pour every ounce of your club's strength into the fight. Numbers? Irrelevant. Gear? Doesn't matter. It was essentially an event pitting one club's full might against another's.
Prior to commencing the total war between Famiglia and the Ranger Club, all club members are requested to enter the field under their club leader's command.
And as an event of this magnitude, it naturally drew crowds of other students... but by agreement among the club leaders, we could bar spectators. This showdown unfolded with zero onlookers.
Well, there was that woman in the corner, calling herself the club advisor instructor and spouting nonsense like "Go on, kill each other now~" ...but fretting over every weirdo like her would just stress me out, so I decided to ignore her.
The academy's outdoor field, where we entered with the kids, was staggeringly vast—nothing less than soccer-stadium-sized from what the eye could see. Factoring in the field activation and spatial magic expansion, it ballooned to at least ten times that.
"Whoa, Boss. Check it out. Looks like they scraped together every last freshman who just joined."
Jinwoo muttered while eyeing the Ranger Club members.
"Yeah, I see faces from when I infiltrated as an intern."
If Youngje was right, they'd formally inducted all the kids they'd been exploiting as interns just for this fight against us. Total war was strictly club members only, after all.
"So what? Like Youngje said, they're untrained interns who just played lackey. Compared to our training... ugh, no way we lose."
Sea-a shuddered, recalling our sessions. I nodded in full agreement. What a transformation our training had wrought in her—from trembling at the sight of bugs and barely casting spells, to now shouting "Five thousand won for this size!" while grabbing them barehanded. Massive progress.
The field will be randomly selected, and total war begins upon change.
Now, commencing field draw.
A massive scoreboard materialized on the field ceiling, jaunty music blaring as letters whirled by too fast to read.
Incheon Port
This total war's field: Incheon Port.
Incheon Port. A place all too familiar after tangling with the Triads recently. Talk about good luck.
The field enveloped in white light, transforming. Salt air and humidity hit—a scent I knew well. When the glow faded, there stood Incheon Port: containers and warehouses everywhere.
"Lucky—lots of obstacles, just like we planned."
"Indeed. Stick to the original strategy."
Before teleport to our bases, a guy who'd been staring spoke up.
"It'll be over in a blink. Why bother with such elaborate plans?"
He snickered mockingly—a Ranger Club mage, judging by his gear.
"Yeah, even trash like you, about to close your eyes forever, gets to blink a bit longer. Gotta be generous, me being so kind and handsome... What, a backliner mouthing off to an assassin? I'll nail a dagger between your brows so fast you won't blink—go scout graveyards till then."
I slashed my thumb across my throat at him. His smirk vanished; he gawked at Jinwoo blankly.
"Not joking? Hope so. Coming for you soon."
"Ptooey."
Cowed by Jinwoo's intimidation, he spat on the ground and turned away. White light wrapped us, scenery shifting to our spawn points.
All enemies eliminated, or club leader eliminated (surviving members auto-eliminated if leader falls).
Commencing total war.
Total war had begun.
Sea-a, scanning around, smiled and slapped the ground.
"Detection good?"
"Yes—just sense movement."
A purple-mana map formed before us. Spatial magic mapping terrain and coordinates, visualizing positions in real-time. Standard for field space mages; proof of her elixir-fueled mana training.
"Scanned map and enemy positions like this."
We were about 1km apart. Full sprint? Under a minute. But they'd avoid rushing blindly.
"Perfect. As planned: Sea-a, Youngje snipe; Jinwoo assassinates newbies and VIPs. I'll draw aggro, target Kwon Su-hyeop. Report anomalies immediately—even if it exposes you."
They nodded, scattering per plan. Smart lenses memorized the map; I climbed a warehouse roof, scouting. No enemies yet. No space mage on their side meant manual recon—their absence meant they were clumped.
Time to scatter them.
I drew Al Capone's Tommy from my cube, aimed skyward.
"Show me what you're best at."
Time to fire the signal flare heralding true war.
──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!/──!
My trusty typewriter's roar echoed across Incheon Port. I kept firing, demanding attention until every eye was on me, broadcasting my presence.
"That should do it."
Finger off the trigger, I eyed the last-detected warehouse. Sure enough, faces peeked out, scoping me.
Right. You're wondering why your prey's leader is so exposed.
Simple: to bait predictable moves. In a game ending on the boss's fall, he'd show regardless of traps or eccentricity—they had to come.
And Rangers hunted predictably.
"Encirclement."
Spot me, they'd spread 20 bodies across the port, tightening from the edges. Whittle me with omnidirectional attacks, then swarm when weakened. Classic Ranger tactic: ancient, reliable, efficient. Drawback? Needs precise tracking. But devastating otherwise.
Breakthrough? They'd retreat, firing. Push harder? Backstabbers waiting.
Why volunteer as bait? Simple.
Executioner
Calione
Only I could handle it.
That was all.
"Famiglia really is under Calione now, huh."
Boosts physical abilities 1.5x against organization foes—a cheat skill.
I'd never forget the message upon ascending to Calione executive, claiming Famiglia as my family and the academy as my turf.
Straight out of the game. Seeing it confirmed I could use Trait: Executioner at the academy too. Registering Famiglia under Calione meant opposing it was opposing us.
Aura thickens around my body.
Proof they were closing in. But not close enough yet. Rangers didn't fear me yet.
Time they did.
I muttered, firing skyward again.
──!/──!/──!
Exactly three shots—a signal to launch.
And right on cue.
KABOOOOM!!
Far off, a container exploded sky-high. Sea-a and Youngje bombarding.
They'd anticipated this—multitude vs. one, after all. But sacrificing pawns for my head? Logical; they couldn't abandon it.
Spot on, too.
"Would've worked on a normal club."
But they faced Famiglia, led by me—anything but normal.
Explosions chained.
KABOOM!! THUD!! RUMBLE-RUMBLE!! BOOM-BOOM-BOOOM!!!!
Port-shaking blasts; Ranger screams pierced the silence they'd kept.
'Where's it coming from?!'
'Not flying—from the ground!'
'Booby traps? But nothing's there!'
Classic reaction to invisible chain-explosion magic. From above, it was pure battlefield.
'Jerit got caught!'
'Don't panic! Find the caster!'
"...Good luck with that."
Sea-a and Youngje were hunkered deep, spamming spells. No enemy mages meant near-impossible detection. They had mages and sensors, but...
'Rudra's dead—!'
'Idiot! No dying in-field!'
'Dagger to the brow—what now?!'
Our assassin handling it. Guy actually kept his promise, lurking by graves.
Chaos erupted at total war's start: blasts, kills, screams... fear.
All conditions met. I leaped from the roof, eyeing their container forest.
"Let's go."
Time to show true Calione warfare.