Welcome to Las Vegas
"To rescue the captured citizens... Yeah, that's exactly why we rushed here after the battle with Uratan to regroup. We have to go underground. You're right. Blocking the entrance might be no different from killing them..."
Miguel, gazing at Lamien with deep eyes, glanced at Kang Jin-cheol's smirk behind her and smoothly lowered his head. To the other Lavitos, it looked like the commander feeling ashamed and moved by her words upon hearing them. Of course, Jin-cheol's sharp eyes caught that he'd dropped his head to hide his twitching lips. He'd been holding back a laugh, but seeing Jin-cheol grinning uncontrollably must have made it impossible.
He raised a hand to stroke his mouth, composing his expression before lifting his head again. His eyes turned to Snow, who had stepped forward just like Lamien.
"Snow. Do you feel the same?"
"...Finding the missing citizens is my mission this time."
Miguel nodded again. He slowly scanned the officers in the command post. Their reactions varied—some met his gaze silently, others completely avoided it, some softly lowered their eyes, and others conveyed with their looks that Lamien was right. At least they weren't the puppet eyes of those blindly following a dictator's opinion.
Confirming them all, he spoke.
"It's impossible for the entire force to go down together right now. The citizens scattered in Rostang are gathering here, of course, and we have to fend off the white beasts already emerging from underground. So we'll select a minimal team and send a scouting party."
Miguel's eyes turned to Lamien.
"The scouts need to identify the nature of this underground ruin Rahiman dug up, confirm where the citizens were taken if they were, their current location, condition, and so on. They have to pinpoint the citizens' position exactly for our main force to move in. Rahiman's special forces, with their commander's head already severed and hung up, is a perfect example of why this scout is crucial."
Lamien blinked, a bit flustered by his gaze. Regardless, Miguel continued.
"So, unfortunately, you'll have to lead this scouting party."
"...No, wait. I was just going to go alone..."
"Select personnel within thirty minutes and head down immediately."
Only then did Lamien sense something off, something wrong, her face going blank. But as if her objection moments ago had been a lie, Miguel issued the order without hesitation, and in the blink of an eye, Lamien became the scouting party's commander.
Miguel barked at her expression.
"What are you doing! The citizens dragged underground are waiting to be saved! Move out now!"
"Yes, sir!"
Lamien bolted out of the command post. Dol Jumeok, her bodyguard, followed, and Snow gave Miguel a strange look before leaving too. One officer exited at Miguel's order to fetch gear. But Jin-cheol stayed.
Miguel, about to discuss garrison expansion with the officers, spotted him. Their eyes met, and they shared a silent conversation.
Too obvious, isn't it?
The way to back Lamien—I just picked the fastest, simplest method. Lucky she volunteered first. How grateful.
Splitting the military isn't good.
At least they won't be swayed by one person.
That's enough for now.
Fine. But remember what I said. Ask Lamien's opinion first.
Of course.
Whether that exact exchange happened, at least that's how Jin-cheol felt it. Maybe Miguel saw it differently. After a brief staring contest, Miguel spoke first.
"...You're not going?"
"Nah, I am. Just one favor."
"What favor?"
"Add one person to the scout team."
"One person? Who?"
Jin-cheol grinned.
*
"I'm Uratan's general... As a prisoner, I deserve proper treatment, proper..."
"Shut the fuck up and follow quietly, asshole."
"..."
Rahiman's face fell at Jin-cheol's profanity. He'd been confined to a cabin on the Comintern, but soldiers had suddenly swarmed in and dragged him to the ground. At first, he thought it was another meeting with Miguel and strode out confidently. But they hauled him off the ship to one side of the garrison. By then, fearing execution, Rahiman trembled in terror—until he saw Jin-cheol smirking, plunging him into deeper despair.
"What the hell... why me...?"
"You thought you'd get a full belly and a warm bed? You're coming too."
At Jin-cheol's very firm request—though the actual talk was brief—Rahiman joined the scout team. The idea was for the one who captured Zasoyeonbang's citizens to help rescue them and atone a bit, but honestly, neither the Lavitos in the command post nor Jin-cheol thought that deeply. They just wanted to see Rahiman shit bricks.
"Who knows? Save a bunch this time, maybe it'll count as mitigation."
"Sob sob..."
Jin-cheol teased him with bullshit he didn't even believe himself, then turned away. His eyes fell on the hastily assembled scout team.
The most eye-catching was the massive armored vehicle—Dol Jumeok's truck, now a full tank after two nights' work. Covered in black iron plates with a machine gun and field cannon on top, it was a proper tank. The underground passages were wide enough for it, apparently.
Jin-cheol had worried the engine noise would attract white beasts, but Dol Jumeok's simple answer: "Their teeth can't pierce the plates."
Better for plowing through waves underground, he said. Jin-cheol agreed, so Dol Jumeok, Maro, and the gar's tank joined. Aiman and Haeta, tracking the Muksaang House and the 'emissary,' joined too. But Harmen and the pirates didn't—didn't want to join a money-losing gig.
Snow joined with a few revolutionaries; seeing Dol Jumeok's tank, they added another truck loaded with weapons, figuring even a small team might rescue citizens.
Dol Jumeok's tank led. Inside: Dol Jumeok, Lamien, Haeta. Maro drove.
Jin-cheol, Snow, Aiman, revolutionaries rode the rear truck. Jin-cheol, in the cargo bed like on the Uratan battleship, slung a heavy machine gun and ammo belt. Aiman looked slightly displeased at the iron lump, but learning swordsmanship was one thing—swinging a blade on a speeding truck was another.
Rahiman, handcuffed, slumped in the truck like headed to execution, utterly unmotivated. Jin-cheol grabbed his collar, yanking him up to face forward.
"Asshole. You think I brought your mopey ass for fun? Guide us to the underground entrance."
"Eek..."
Feeling the grip on his neck, Rahiman pointed forward in terror.
Confirming the direction, Jin-cheol grabbed the radio.
Maro's curt reply. He'd learned radio protocol from the revolutionaries, it seemed. Jin-cheol felt a pang of bitterness as he glanced back. The garrison revolutionaries watched the departing scouts. Not just them—the Zasoyeonbang citizens and Uratan soldiers too.
The difference: citizens eyed them with hope; Uratan soldiers like they were corpses marching to doom.
Jin-cheol faced that contrast as the garrison receded. The midnight scout team leaving looked like a castle of light sailing into a sea of darkness.
Clear of the garrison, tank and trucks sped along Rostang's roads near the construction site, lights on. Clouds hid stars and moon; ruins brimmed with shadow. But Rahiman navigated the dark adeptly. Jin-cheol was ready to rip his ear off at any lie, but needless worry—they soon reached the underground entrance.
"Hmm... Reminds me of the open-pit mines I saw before..."
As Aiman said, the entrance was at the bottom of a stepped pit like a quarry. Carts, shovels everywhere screamed "dug by rabbit hands."
Descending the curved walls, the pit bottom emerged from shadow under the tank's bright lights.
"Schritz..."
Rahiman, trembling and pointing, muttered at something. His gaze fixed on a long spear before the entrance, a Lavito head impaled on it. Obvious whose—his special forces commander.
Dol Jumeok's tank, entrance confirmed, plunged in.
The first passage was a natural cave—smallish, with stalactites, damp walls and ceiling. But wide enough for tank and trucks.
The truck crew stayed vigilant; inside, vehicle noise boomed louder than expected. Might have to ditch the truck and climb the tank to escape. But needless—the passage end appeared ahead with no disturbance. No white beasts, not even bugs.
"..."
Jin-cheol gripped the radio, eyes straining ahead. A big sound came from beyond the end—what was it? Then he realized.
"Advance. Keep going."
Tank and trucks pushed on, exiting the passage and naturally halting.
"Whoa..."
They'd emerged onto a bridge between cliffs. Beside it, a massive waterfall roared—the sound Jin-cheol heard.
Aiman's admiration came from the waterfall and the vast underground world below: huge stalactites, sheer cliffs like giant-sliced, deep valleys, countless stone bridges linking them. Majestic, unfit for white beasts.
Only vehicle lights illuminated, but even that sliver overwhelmed the scouts. All stared half-dazed; Haeta poked her head out the tank hatch to gawk.
But amid the grandeur, Jin-cheol spotted something artificial. The bridge was manmade, but this screamed it more.
He radioed.
"Shine a light one o'clock below."
A tank light swiveled with a creak, hitting the spot. Long untouched by light, it gleamed. Jin-cheol glared, squinting.
Familiar letters sprawled huge—a giant sign.
Jin-cheol whispered the words.
"Welcome to Las Vegas..."