Nighttime Warehouse Infiltration
Taejeong slipped out of the lodging and headed straight for the rooftop of the building. It was 11:30 PM now. The streets were pitch black and deathly quiet, like a ghost town.
"Whew. Let's get going."
Using his Blaster, Taejeong descended to the ground, released his gear, and activated Cloaking. In an instant, his figure vanished without a trace. At the same time, he began moving.
His mode of transportation? Good old two legs. He had no intention of using any other equipment during transit. And for good reason—most of his mobility options were noisy as hell. Jet-engine boosters or the Blaster were obvious culprits, but even the Taeguk 1 or exoskeleton legs clanged like steel on concrete whenever they hit the pavement.
Stealth demanded going as bare as possible. No gear.
This is the intersection. That way, then...
Glancing at his map now and then, Taejeong dashed through the night streets relying solely on his base stamina for the first time in ages. As a porter, endurance had been his lifeline—he was confident he could outrun anyone in a sprint. He'd trained hard for it, after all. Pounding the pavement felt pretty damn good.
But that didn't last. Soon, his breath grew ragged. His body felt heavier by the second, stamina plummeting in tandem. He'd barely crossed one block on the map when he stopped, panting heavily and shaking his head.
Figures. The naked body's got its limits. And I was consistent with cardio, too.
He'd always done at least 30 minutes on the treadmill at the training grounds to maintain his old conditioning. But the human body was fragile as fuck.
It's the bare body that's the problem.
Most classes—except mages or priests—saw stamina scale with growth. Close-combat types especially. Knights or warriors could run half a day straight if conditions were right.
Taejeong couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy. Unlike them, boosted by stats, he was stuck relying purely on skills.
But there was hope. According to Gerard, not all my stats are unlocked yet. Sirius called it half-potential, too. Something's gotta pop eventually.
Breath steady again, he took off running. After nearly an hour and a half, he arrived at the very building where the meeting had been held earlier that day.
Wiping away sweat pouring like a waterfall, he eyed the bunker-like warehouse ahead.
Four guards. Roughly 300 meters out. Two buildings for cover.
Cautious as ever, he couldn't just bolt straight there. Plan: head to the nearest cover first, regroup, then reassess.
Like a ghost, Taejeong's cloaked form slipped past the first cover building and reached the second. The warehouse loomed much closer now.
Hope Da-som was right about this.
Choi Da-som had said the warehouse was under construction for security upgrades, meaning laxer defenses than usual. But if it was wrapping up, the opposite could be true. Fifty-fifty odds. Tension mounted.
"Hoo."
After agonizing deliberation, he exhaled deeply. He released Cloaking and recast it immediately. Under the moonlight, his figure flickered into view for a split second before vanishing like a specter again. He'd set the duration to full to avoid dropping at a bad time.
Thus, he bypassed the building, skirted the four guards, and slipped effortlessly into the warehouse.
First things inside: a makeshift barricade manned by four more hunters.
Definitely under construction...
The manual barricade confirmed it. Standard for security expansions—bare-minimum blockade since the entrance gaped open. Extra guards made it obvious. Plus, construction alarms were usually door-mounted, so the setup looked passable on sight.
But he hesitated. Right in front of the barricade: a security tripwire. One-time alarm trigger. Slim chance, but if it had a rank-3 spell or higher, he'd be busted instantly.
As he pondered, one guard casually crossed the line.
"Where you going?"
"Piss."
"No funny business. Remember last time? Got kicked out gawking at the 4th squad kids."
"Relax. Just a leak and back."
The guy vanished into the shadows. Taejeong seized the moment, vaulting the barricade. No alarm.
Nice. First hurdle cleared. Off to a good start.
Beyond the barricade, he spotted the guy taking a roadside whiz.
"Ugh. Whack off here once and it'd be heaven. Cool breeze, time flies."
Ignoring the bullshit, Taejeong pressed on to the first staircase. Down it led to a well-crafted secret room. Display racks lined the walls, packed with assorted items that looked oddly familiar.
"Gerard."
Yes, Master.
"What the hell are all these? I swear I've seen 'em before."
These appear to be material items from White Hole dungeons up to Blue 10th grade.
"Knew it. My eyes weren't playing tricks. Why the fuck stash this junk here...?"
Choi Da-som had called this the guild's treasure vault. Yet it was crammed with trash. Even for the first floor, the quality didn't match the guild's rep.
Camouflage? But it's too sloppy.
Nothing worth seeing, so Taejeong headed to the second basement. Same story—no high-value items for security upgrades. Third floor: empty. Fourth: a wide corridor, broad enough for full mech summons. Construction debris and materials everywhere.
Slowly advancing, he soon spotted a cave-like entrance guarded by high-level hunters.
People here too, huh.
Over ten at the mouth, higher-leveled than the others. Gear screamed assassin class.
"When the hell does this construction end?"
"No kidding. Why smash perfectly good spells and rebuild? Wasted all our mana stones. Fucking idiots. Efficiency's not even in their vocab—endgame inefficiency."
"Don't rage. How're we plebs supposed to get the high-and-mighty brass? I'd rather know when we rotate out. Been a week without hunts."
"B-ranks and up assassins are rare. A's too pricey."
"Always us grunts. Let's all bail en masse."
From the chatter, B-rank+ assassins. Bad news for Taejeong. Assassins had hyper-sensitive passives to surroundings—one of the few classes detecting stealth sans magic. Cloaking included. Couldn't mask presence fully.
Entrance too tight-packed. Straight in? Instant detection.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, no slouching or chit-chat seating. Weirdly disciplined.
He waited. Humans had gaps. Ten minutes passed—no dice. He picked up a nearby pebble.
Hated to do this.
Diversion via noise. Sounded simple, but risky. Assassins meant anti-stealth precautions. Noise could flag intruder. Movie tropes might not apply.
No choice. Time ticking; had to breach.
Target: ceiling a bit offset—visible, natural drop.
Hand extended. Plunk. Plink. Plunk.
"What!?"
Stone hit ceiling, then floor—hunters reacted instantly.
"Maintain alert! Something's up."
Leader's words lit fires in their eyes. Taejeong sensed trouble, backing off stealthily.
Then—
"Yo, it's a rock."
"Huh?"
"Ceiling crumb."
"Where?"
"There, see?"
The guy headed over; others followed.
Instinct kicked in—Taejeong darted into the cave. Faint voices trailed:
"These assholes' construction is a shitshow. Deadline why? Gonna collapse?"
"Overreacting to a pebble."
Meanwhile, back in Taejeong's room, Park Se-ah faced a crisis of a lifetime.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
"Curfew check."
Thud-thud-thud.
"Curfew check. Open up, please."
Voice outside; Park Se-ah fidgeting inside. Pure Sword had checked just hours ago—who'd expect another?
"If you don't open, we'll—"
Someone interrupted the lock-picking guy.
"What're you doing here?"
It was Jenix Guild's 1st raid leader, Kim Hansu.
"Doing headcount, but no answer."
"They're really pushing it. What time is it? Don't wake sleepers—move on."
"Can't do that."
"What? You know who I am?"
"Jenix 1st raid leader, sir."
"And you still...?"
"Direct order from the guild master. Interfere, and I'll report up."
"Hey now..."
Shit—raid leader too. What do I do? If they come in, they'll know he's gone.
Stomping anxiously, Park Se-ah recalled Taejeong's parting words.
I trust you, Park Se-ah.
Her chest swelled. On the battlefield, it meant entrusting his back.
She shot up, resolute.
"Right. I handle this. Can't embarrass the boss."
Fists clenched, she shrugged off her outer jacket.