The March of the Puppets
As Han Yuseon lowered her head, there lay a woman fast asleep on the blanket.
Her gaze, heavy with concern, lingered for a moment on the soundly sleeping Puppeteer, Elysia.
She glanced away. Outside the window hung a full moon.
You should sleep too. You must be exhausted.
The scene flashed in her mind—Elysia had insisted she rest after working so hard.
Han Yuseon let out a soft chuckle and pulled the blanket up to Elysia's shoulders. She looked cold.
Elysia's breathing grew even more even and gentle.
"Puppets don't sleep."
She muttered it so quietly it wouldn't wake her, then twitched her fingers.
Silver threads spread out widely around the room, like a spiderweb—fragile if snapped, but perfect for detection.
There will definitely be pursuers.
Han Yuseon knew modern common sense all too well.
From secretly checking the Puppeteer's phone, she could feel the net of investigation tightening bit by bit.
Some people must have already figured it out.
"No helping it."
The Puppeteer was an unregistered hunter with the state. Ambiguous at best, but not one of the officially registered ones.
And she'd claimed the most points on the 1st floor—three times more than that guy called the Demon King.
Here, you had to understand what 1st-floor points meant.
No one human was stupid enough not to realize she was the very first to awaken.
It narrowed further—from there, already pinned to Korea.
This is someone's ability.
Han Yuseon bit her lip.
There were information-type hunters out there.
The Korean government, and places with top-notch intel, must have caught on too.
Even simple elimination would do it. Deduction made pinpointing the Puppeteer's location child's play.
"...That was a mistake, Puppeteer."
Han Yuseon let out a faint sigh.
Out of curiosity, she'd cleared the Transcendent difficulty. She hadn't expected it to draw all that attention in one go.
Well, anyway...
A smirk-like sneer curled her lips.
"Looks like something got caught in the web."
Han Yuseon twitched her fingers.
Schwick—!
The silver threads turned blade-sharp, the sensation of slicing something clean through transmitting to her fingertips.
"Kuhk!"
A groan echoed from outside.
She twitched her fingers a few more times. Her senses picked up four 'prey' already ensnared in the web.
As the slack threads pulled taut, heads began rolling one by one.
"Guess I need to get ready to head out."
She'd stir up some chaos on the way.
Han Yuseon checked her suit once over, then opened the door.
Creeeak.
Her worried gaze turned back to the sleeping Elysia.
She... won't wake up, right?
Fortunately, Elysia just flinched a little. Probably spooked by the door opening.
Han Yuseon breathed a sigh of relief and stepped outside.
Thud.
The front door shut.
Before her lay several corpses already shredded in the web.
And standing there was a neat short-haired woman gripping a curved sword.
She fixed Han Yuseon with cold eyes.
Han Yuseon met them with a sneer on her lips and eyes icy as winter.
She's strong.
She could tell at a glance.
Of course, she could end it in one blow, but it'd wreck the area—and that would hurt the Puppeteer.
No choice but to let her slip away. Ugh.
She could thread into her, but this woman didn't seem weak enough to miss it.
The immediate defensive stance said as much.
The woman bowed her head in formal greeting.
"This one is Muyeon. First disciple of Yoo Sorang, walker of the sword's path."
"...".
Han Yuseon frowned, pondering if she should return the greeting.
No need for such a long introduction. It was intel.
Yoo Sorang... the World's Best Swordswoman? No need to specify disciple unless it's true, so probably not a lie.
Han Yuseon bowed gracefully in return.
"Hello. I'm one of the Four Heavenly Kings, the Queen of Threads."
She made it up on the spot.
No info leaks allowed. And to sow confusion, she threw in that nonsense about the Four Heavenly Kings.
Muyeon spun her sword with a flourish, assuming her stance.
The moment her eyes gleamed in the moonlight—
Clang—!
A sword clashed in midair. More precisely, against the silver threads.
Muyeon said calmly, no hint of surprise.
"Queen of Threads... I don't know about Four Heavenly Kings, but you're probably the unregistered hunter."
"...".
Han Yuseon smiled leisurely.
The misdirection... kinda worked?
The problem was admitting she'd gone into the Tower and flexed her power.
"My master had her eye on you, so I came with hired killers just in case—and you're quite the powerhouse."
Muyeon lightly deflected the taut threads pulling from all sides.
It was more restraint than ambush.
And...
Han Yuseon grinned and twitched her fingers.
Muyeon's eyes widened as she leaped back.
Piiing—!
The silver threads flashed in the moonlight.
If she'd stayed put, her head would've been sliced off without a chance to react.
Han Yuseon called out leisurely to the startled Muyeon staring her way.
"You'd better take your buddies and scram quick."
Muyeon grimaced slightly.
"...Your character leaves much to be desired. If it were my master, she'd have enlightened you by now."
Before the unspoken but I'm not quite that skilled could finish—
The moonlight flashed.
The world sliced. Or more precisely, it split at an angle, like a rift had torn open.
New Bonguk Sword
Han Yuseon clicked her tongue. Tch.
...Already leaving?
She'd severed all the obstructing threads in one go.
Current situation favored Muyeon. If Han Yuseon ignored the building, maybe—but she couldn't cause a scene now.
Muyeon muttered.
"This one shall take her leave."
"...".
Han Yuseon looked up.
Muyeon was already leaping between buildings.
Can't do anything about her. Better focus on misleading the government and the others first.
She twitched her fingers.
The surrounding threads gathered. She eyed the already-trapped corpses.
Hmm...
Han Yuseon hummed thoughtfully.
Two options. But the latter had more impact. She'd have to brace for a scolding from the Puppeteer.
Sorry.
Han Yuseon reassembled the mangled corpses into perfect humans.
The thread stitches were visible, but whatever.
She twitched her fingers rapidly. The corpse-puppets rose.
"Well then... let's get started."
The march of the puppets.
...
"What... did you say?"
The girl stared at the returned Black Cloud assassin with utter disbelief.
She'd been mid-slurp of jjajangmyeon, and her wooden chopsticks clattered to the floor.
"Th-there was nothing there. Just one guy sleeping."
The assassin said.
The other assassin nearby nodded too.
This is weird...
The girl raised an eyebrow.
Nickname: JjajangLover
Leader of Black Cloud, Aruen.
They just barge in and say that?
Her assassins wandering around looking for her was odd enough...
And stammering like this? She hadn't trained them to be this sloppy.
At least they came back alive.
"What about the other two?" "And some woman with a sword... huh?"
Crack.
The two assassins shredded apart. Chunks of flesh splattered down.
Aruen's eyes went wide. Blood trickled across the floor.
That was when—
Riiiing!
Her dedicated burner phone rang.
Aruen snatched it up, sensing something off.
"Fuck! Was that you guys? These crazy assassin bastards trashed our branch...!"
This voice...
Not our branch guys?
Black Cloud and the Korean branch shared intel and agreed not to attack each other.
The Korean branch was strong. Black Cloud was strong too.
They turned a blind eye when Black Cloud stirred trouble, for mutual gain. No choice.
With a powerhouse like Aruen in Black Cloud, the branch couldn't move easily.
They'd built that symbiotic relationship...
"What the hell?!" "Black Cloud assassins are going berserk right now!" "What do you—"
Aruen's face went blank.
She glanced at the corpses on the floor.
Fuck...
We're screwed. Unregistered hunter or whatever didn't matter—this was the priority.
Chills ran down her spine.
Aruen yelled into the phone.
"We got hit too! If they're pulling this shit, they've got backing! Maybe even..."
"Guhk?!"
A death rattle from the other end.
And then.
[It's in the palm of my hand.]
Static crackled through the voice.
Aruen jolted and flung the phone away.
Crash!
"Wh-what happened?!"
Her subordinates rushed in late.
One look at Aruen's face, and they knew it was serious.
"Kids."
We seem to have poked something we shouldn't have.