Departure and Return (1)
Alright, let's give this a shot.
I climbed onto the Whirlwind, and its headlights blazed to life, cutting through the darkness ahead. A low rumble vibrated through the handlebars as I gripped them, the bike responding instantly—like a lion's growl. I twisted the throttle, and the Whirlwind surged forward with me on its back, slicing through the air like an arrow down the runway. The wind whipped my hair back, the rush of displaced air howling in my ears. No clue if it had an engine or how the hell it even worked. All I could hear was a faint, eerie whine amid the exhilarating pressure of the wind.
...Fucking perfect.
I tore down the runway on the Whirlwind, a trail of dust kicking up behind us. "...Haha."
This felt good. I wanted to push it, see just how fast it could go. Problem was, there was no dashboard—no speedometer, no fuel gauge. No idea if I was hitting 100 kph or 300, or what the top speed even was. All I knew was that it lived up to its name: insanely fast.
I lapped the runway a few times before wrenching the handlebars for a hard stop. The tires screeched sideways, scraping the tarmac as the bike leaned hard. I planted one foot on the ground, steadying myself with a deep breath.
"Hoo."
Never ridden a motorcycle in my life. Yet it felt like muscle memory—the second I sat down, I knew exactly how to handle it. Like I'd been riding my whole damn life. Flying through the wind on the Whirlwind was pure bliss. I'd had my fun, so now...
Time to test some other shit.
I hopped off and opened the weapon storage compartment. Dust seemed to get sucked faintly inside. No idea how that worked either. A heavy motorcycle materializing and vanishing was mystery enough. I pulled the two Ingrams from my thighs and pressed them against the compartment. One slid right in with a click as the latch sealed. The other? Nope. Only one at a time.
I experimented, shoving in and pulling out various weapons from my arsenal. Turns out, only one per slot. Size and weight didn't matter—a meter-long sword hilt-to-tip, even the hefty bow—all fit in that tiny box. No limits there. Tried other stuff? Shoes? Phone? Nothing. Weapons only. Or maybe anything I considered a weapon.
Everything else was just a standard racing bike: solid, sleek, sharp lines. Glossy pearlescent white with a silver sheen. I patted the seat, grinning like an idiot even though no one was around to see.
Next up... how to store the damn thing? Can't lug a bike everywhere.
As I stroked the seat thoughtfully, the Whirlwind began to waver, swirling faintly like dissolving mist—much like the shadow warrior. It collapsed into a vortex in my hand. I smirked. So it responds to my will. Lined it up with an empty inventory slot, and it vanished inside.
A beautiful pearlescent white bike with that silver glow. Summon and store anytime...
...I'm thrilled.
One more thing left: Space Claw. Time to experiment.
No need to test it mid-fight; I'd gotten plenty of practice dodging that boar crash earlier. Gotta drill it into my body.
"...Grasp the space..."
I muttered, extending my hand and slowly clenching my fingers. Standing smack in the middle of the runway, surrounded by hangars and empty fields. About 30 or 40 meters ahead, in the direction I pointed, the air shimmered. Like space compressing, warping into something bizarre.
That's the Space Claw range, huh. ...And I'd fallen from that close to a wild boar? Way too fucking close.
I held my half-clenched fist out, pondering. Memory said squeezing fully teleports me there. So what about now?
I tried stepping forward. Skrrrt. My shoes dragged against the ground. Couldn't move ahead—or back. The space and I were locked tight.
"...Ha."
That's how it works. ...Sideways?
I sidestepped, still gripping the space. Moved fine. Like pinning a point and swinging a compass around it—I could circle freely.
I grinned. ...This is gonna be useful.
Nodded and released my fist. Now, did that count as activation? I hadn't teleported—just gripped and walked.
"Status."
Yeah, activated. Agility down 5 points. Currently at 10. Gripping space counts as a use, teleport or not. Got it. Two uses left today.
...What next?
I stood alone in the runway's center, scanning the quiet night. Gentle breeze on my face, moon hanging pretty in the sky.
...Got a great idea.
This'll be fun. "...Haha."
I reached toward the sky, clenching slowly. Stars warped inward. Gripped the space. Good. Now—
I balled my fist tight. "Hup!"
Whoosh—I rocketed upward. Ground dropped away fast. Hangar roof below! Floating dizzily, nausea hitting hard. Shit, gonna fall!
I summoned inventory, yanked the Whirlwind, and hurled it beneath me. Swirl! It materialized underfoot.
Acceleration [Auto-cast]
Shit, falling, falling—! Thud! I landed straddling the Whirlwind. Hovering mid-air now, the bike drifting lazily.
"...Haha!" Yes! Whirlwind ignores Acceleration! Ride it in the air, and I can blast around solo with speed active!
Fists clenched in triumph, grin splitting my face. Found something awesome. Whirlwind and Space Claw—best gifts ever right now.
From the tilting bike, I eyed the approaching ground. One hand on the throttle, the other clawing space below. Squeezed.
Boom! Ground rushed up as we plummeted. Impact exploded like a bomb, shockwave blasting dust outward. Me? Untouched.
Collision immunity! "...Haha." Perfect. For real.
People started emerging from the ruined barracks—must've heard the boom. I dismounted, stored the bike, and strolled casually toward them.
A Special Forces guy handling body cleanup and debris approached. "What was that noise? You okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Just testing some stuff over there. Sorry for the bang."
"Ah, got it."
He turned and explained in English to the murmuring US soldiers and civilians. I waved with a grin. Hey, surprised ya? Sorry! No confidence in my English. Kinda remember words, but nah. Hey you! Surprise! Sorry! ...Pass.
Asked the Special Forces guy to guide me to the armory. Massive stockpile for the Chinooks—personal firearms and support weapons galore. US troops and Special Forces chatting out front.
"Here to check some things out. Mind if I look around?"
He translated. "Of course. The commander granted you unlimited access."
Nice. Pyeongtaek's armory dwarfed Yongsan's—walls and shelves crammed with weapons, like a scene from The Matrix. Endless rifles and ammo. No explosives, though. Separate bunker, probably. Not here for that anyway.
"I'll browse."
"Sure, Sung-hoon."
They saluted from the door. I stepped in, eyes feasting on rifles, shotguns, pistols—everything.
Then I froze. There it was. Fewer in number, much longer than the rest. Smirking, I hefted it. Way heavier than the Ingrams. What the hell is this?
Googled it. ...M107. Anti-materiel rifle, fires high-explosive armor-piercing rounds.
The weapon for the Whirlwind. ...Perfect.