'Ability User?'
'Ability user?'
Gazing at the faint silhouette beyond the smoke, Cheol-woo took a step back. Keeping the possibility of getting shot in mind, he kept shifting positions, sticking to the thickest patches of smoke. But in that brief moment when his location was exposed, two bullets came flying straight for his head. It was too precise to be coincidence—they'd spotted him in a split second and predicted his next move. Or maybe they had some ability to see through the smoke? Thinking of Lee Joo-eem's eyes, which could spot things kilometers away without issue, an ability to peer through smoke seemed entirely plausible.
Let's test their skills a bit.
Bang! His rifle spat fire, spraying bullets into the haze. He was sure they'd hit dead center, but there was no telltale thunk of impact vibrating through his hands. As the smoke cleared slightly, he caught a glimpse of the silhouette turning away, hunched as low as possible. Minimizing exposed area, twisting to let only the bulletproof vest take the hits?
A quick glance—their eyes met through the gap under the armpit.
Good. Let's see how you handle rounds that punch through vests.
Click. He dropped the rifle and snatched up the HK-417. The figure exploded into motion, accelerating straight at him, then juking direction the instant their eyes locked on his muzzle. Bang! The .308 rounds ripped out in a burst, and the bastard scooped up a fallen comrade's corpse like a shield. The bullets tore through the vest, shredded flesh, punched out the back through another vest—and lost momentum, absorbed by the body as the guy zigzagged forward.
Fast.
Erratic movements. The only real target was that big upper body, but it was shielded by human armor. With footwork outpacing even the bullets' speed, even aiming for the legs was impossible. Cheol-woo ran the calculations in a heartbeat and lowered his muzzle.
"Arghhh!"
Bang! A single shot rang out, and blood sprayed from the guy's thigh as he stumbled. It wasn't a direct hit—he'd run right into the bullet's path. Proof that while his raw speed was superior, his reaction time couldn't keep up.
Getting the picture now. Cheol-woo grinned and hurled the empty rifle at him.
"Gahk—"
Hit square in the face by the stock, nose shattered, the bastard drew a dagger and lunged, slashing at where Cheol-woo's eyes had been. Faster than me overall, but Cheol-woo dodged using the limp in his shot leg, countering by slipping inside. Exploiting the obsessive eye jabs, he grabbed the wrist at the last possible second—right before it reached his eyeball—and spun toward the injured leg. The body flew through the air with a whoosh, slammed into the ground, and the dagger arm snapped with a sickening crack.
Clink. Cheol-woo caught the falling knife and leveled it at the throat.
"Surrender. No point in us fighting each other. There's parasites pretending to be human, trying to divide us."
"Bullshit... His Excellency said... you'd try to sweet-talk us with crap like this..."
"Hey. Hey, hey, hey!?"
Spotting something rolling in the guy's mouth, Cheol-woo panicked. He crunched down on whatever was wedged between his molars—crunch—and his body twisted with grotesque crackles, eyes flooding bloodshot red.
Ah—fuck—their eyes met, and the curse spilled from Cheol-woo's lips.
Classic mutant red eyes. But unlike regular mutants, intelligence gleamed in them.
"Grraaahhh!"
"Shit—"
The dagger plunged into the throat. It sliced flesh in one go but halted, unable to shatter the spine. In that instant, the broken arm jerked backward impossibly, slamming Cheol-woo's gut and sending him flying.
"Urgh! Aaaarghhh...!"
"Speak, you fucker."
Already faster than me before, now upgraded with the blue drug. Somehow forcing broken joints and ligaments to work, charging without even limping anymore. Mutant-level intimidation, but instead of mindless straight-line rushes, it tracked every twitch and gesture. No choice—reaching for his blue drug, Cheol-woo hesitated.
Reaction speed still not quite at my level?
Might win without it.
"...!"
Whoosh. He shrugged off his coat, thrusting it forward like a matador's cape. The guy's pupils flickered in confusion as Cheol-woo's right hand vanished behind it. Raising the Five-seveN and squeezing the trigger, the 5.7mm round tore through the fabric. No reaction until the muzzle flash bloomed through—and even then, only when the bullet was inches from his forehead did he freeze. Too late. It punched through the brow, burrowing into the skull.
Thud. Cheol-woo looked down at the corpse sprawled at his feet and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Nearly died there."
Everything but reaction speed matched or exceeded his own or Yuri's. Lucky it predicted based on muzzle direction like he used to—if it dodged bullets visually, he'd be the dead one. Heart pounding, Cheol-woo exhaled deeply.
Were there really only one ability users on this vast Australian land? Obviously more—plenty stronger, too.
Need more firepower. Way more.
Nothing else would handle them. Bone strength, reactions, mobility—didn't matter. Overwhelming, endless barrages were the only way to survive.
"Oh! My God! I surrender!"
"..."
Bang. He kicked open the office door, and ministers and the prime minister threw up their hands, dropping to their knees. Middle-aged men hacking and coughing in the acrid smoke. Cheol-woo scanned their eyes, then raised the Five-seveN without a word.
Bang bang bang. It barked, and they crumpled with barely a scream.
Amid the unresisting corpses, a pudgy man trembled face-down. Cheol-woo hauled him up, picked up his glasses, and set them on his face.
"Minister of Energy. That you?"
"Y-y-yes. Y-yes. Ri-right... H-huh... Huhh..."
"Congratulations. Effective immediately, you're Prime Minister, Deputy PM, Defense Minister, Foreign Minister, and Finance Minister. The Secret Intelligence Agency director will brief you."
"Y-yes...?"
The Energy Minister froze, dumbfounded.
What the hell did you just say?
"My God. What the hell is going on...?"
Peering at the drone feed of the PM's office, the Secret Intelligence Agency director let out a hollow laugh. David Min lobbed in a smoke grenade, went in alone, and fifteen minutes later strolled out with the Energy Minister—no, acting PM—in tow. Agents who entered for cleanup reported over sixty bodies strewn inside...
Could one man really do this? Utterly shocking.
"Fuck! That's the kind of guy they let the Secret Intelligence Agency steal!?"
"..."
"Not even parasite-infected—just sane idiots who botched the deal? Fucking morons!"
"..."
Fuck—blood pressure spiking, the director hurled his slippers at the agents. Lost a human weapon like that to the parasite-riddled, half-crippled Secret Intelligence Agency? All because 8 million dollars was too much? Insane. No amount of cursing or throwing shit helped the rage.
"Director. Acting PM incoming."
"Hoo..."
The door opened, the bewildered Energy Minister entered, and the director took a deep breath. Time for a decision.
...
"David Min. Good work."
"Yeah. You'll keep your promise, right?"
"Ahh. That... "
Shaking David Min's hand, Jason forced a strained smile. Demanded something worth way more than 8 million. Had to accept for now, but even fulfilling it was questionable.
"Yes, of course. We'll prepare it soon."
"..."
Confident tone, but the face screamed we'll look into it. Detecting the half-lie, half-truth, Cheol-woo's expression soured like he'd tasted shit.
Fucking hell.
"Ideally, we'd love your continued support here, but... feel free to head back to Darwin. We'll provide a C-130 Hercules transport."
"In a rush?"
"Yes. With the acting PM secured, we have all legal channels. He'll declare martial law and mandate X-rays for every skull nationwide. That means civil war. Parasites won't sit for scans—they'll go berserk. Darwin, with its high infection rate, will be hit hardest."
"Damn."
Hearing that, Cheol-woo bolted without looking back.