Why the Hell Is That Bastard Up There?
I had no idea why that bastard was up there. With the power of blessings, leaping up to the third floor was entirely possible. What Yeo Min-seo couldn't comprehend was how he'd even thought to go there in the first place.
Do Seon-woo was currently on the third floor of the building to the right. That was where she'd stationed the most personnel. Until the cooperation request from Kang Dae-man had come in, they'd been her squad's top fighters, used as 'token farming combatants.' She'd handed them grenade launchers and ordered them to aim at Do Seon-woo and pull the trigger on her signal.
In other words, that spot had the highest concentration of grenade launchers and ammo—and simultaneously, the most tokens stored there. From Yeo Min-seo's perspective, it was the place where taking a hit would hurt the most. Her Achilles' heel.
In the midst of smoke so thick you couldn't see an inch ahead, how had Do Seon-woo figured that out and headed straight there? Had he spotted it in that split-second gap when the wind blew the smoke away? Did that even make sense?
What the fuck is wrong with this crazy bastard?
She didn't know. For now...
"Hey! Don't just stand there—shoot that fucker!"
Yeo Min-seo hurriedly pointed at Do Seon-woo. The snipers hidden behind rocks and around the buildings popped out in unison, barrels trained on him. But they didn't fire. The wind was still gusting strong, even if it had died down a bit. While they hesitated, Do Seon-woo's figure vanished again.
The guns aimed at him swung aimlessly, searching for a target. Some glanced at Yeo Min-seo, eyes gleaming for the next order.
"Fuck, that son of a bitch...!"
But this wasn't the time for calm commands. Spitting harsh curses, she drew a blessing circle and bolted for the stairs before the light even touched her legs. Only she had seen Do Seon-woo climb through the window into the building. Who knew what that unpredictable guy would do next? She had to stop him before the tide turned completely against her.
*
Whoosh—!
The wind blew. No, the wind had my back.
Wind is relatively natural. Far more so than lightning striking from a clear sky, pillars of fire erupting, snakes appearing, or giant plants moving...
Combined with illusion blessings and a bit of smoke, Bade's power could be exploited endlessly in all sorts of situations.
I'd been practicing Loa powers for a while, focusing especially on mastering Bade's. Bade's wind is powerful but lacks fine control. I'd trained to narrow its range and concentrate the force into a single point.
Unlike blessings, which never seemed to improve no matter what, practicing Loa powers was simple yet tough. Offer lots of sacrifices, use the powers a ton, and build a strong bond with the Loa. Fortunately, bonding with Bade was straightforward.
[How was Bade's elevator service? Please leave a review!]
"Good! The best!"
I shouted down at Yeo Min-seo while dangling from the third-floor railing. To make Bade happy, all it took was flattery. No need for sincerity. Praise him in an excited tone like you couldn't hold it back, and he'd go wild with joy.
Crash!
I smashed through the shaking window with my fist and slipped inside. A few glass shards embedded in my knuckles, but no need to pull them out now. It didn't hurt much; I'd deal with it later. This wasn't the time to fuss over glass shards.
"Wha...! D-Do Seon-woo!"
One of the paladin squad members ambushed on the third floor spotted me, yelped in shock, and swung his barrel from the window toward me. His shout drew every squad member on the floor; countless guns now pointed my way.
[If you need help, shout the technique name! It's that move we practiced in the worship hall!]
Bade yelled excitedly. I nodded while charging the nearest guy aiming at me.
While mastering Bade's power, we'd talked a lot—mostly me playing to his tune. That's how we created our 'technique.' When I thrust my fist as the signal, compressed Bade wind shot out in that direction, mimicking a punch.
The moment he was about to pull the trigger, I extended my fist and yelled the technique name.
"W-Wind Punch!"
Compressed wind blasts forward with the fist thrust, striking like a solid blow.
[Wind Punch! Yap, yap!]
The technique name was too embarrassing to shout properly—I mumbled and stuttered—but Bade seemed thrilled.
Whoosh—thwack!
My wind-propelled fist smashed into his jaw. Technically hit by compressed air, not my knuckles, but it looked the same to onlookers. He crumpled unconscious, dropping his grenade launcher.
Crack. Silence blanketed the area. The paladin squad had me in their sights, but none dared fire. Probably stunned by my sudden appearance.
"No way..."
Someone muttered in horror, voice drained of fight.
"I didn't even see the punch...!"
"You crazy fuck! Don't stand there gawking—shoot him!"
A sharp female voice shattered the quiet. The squad snapped to, clumsily aiming and firing.
Bang! Bang!
Grenade launcher reports were familiar. Unpleasant. My heart pounded wildly, even without using Bosu's power. Overlaid with screams in the gunfire. Hallucinations. Had to be.
I ignored it, charging the nearest foe. Close the gap, punch, chant.
"Wind Punch! Wind Punch!"
[Oh yeah! That's it! Yap, yap!]
Whoosh—!
Wind seeped through broken or open windows. I could read its flow now—trajectory from origin to destination. Our bond went beyond tight; I was seeing the world through Bade's eyes.
Pat-pat!
Wind swirled around me at my command. Incoming rounds lost momentum in the gusts, halted, then crumbled to the floor. Not me dodging bullets—they were dodging me.
I trusted Bade, so I didn't dodge. Just ran at enemies, punching. Each thrust brought wind, slamming foes down. Their launchers clattered. Rounds missed me. Confusion etched their faces. Tokens spilled from pockets—I scooped them up. Sometimes snatched launchers and hurled at remaining foes. No need for precision; Bade corrected trajectories.
Thwack!
"Argh!"
In moments, I'd subdued all but one. Swinging with glass in my fist had bloodied my knuckles. Dried sticky by wind. Wounds deeper now. Even with restoration spells back at the worship hall post-exam, scars seemed inevitable. Ji-a noona would nag for sure.
I trudged toward the last guy.
"Y-You psycho...!"
He slumped pale against the floor. Not wrong.
I raised my blood-crusted fist.
"Yaaah—!"
A shout from the stairs—shrill, raspy, rage-cracked. Yeo Min-seo, obviously. Better than expected. I lowered my fist and turned.
She was bent over, catching her breath.
"Hah, hah... Fucking exhausting. Shit, if my ankle wasn't busted."
She scanned her fallen squad.
"What the fuck—already wiped like this?!"
She yelled in fury. The slumped bodies on concrete were eerie, even to me.
*
Yeo Min-seo raced up the stairs with a blessing. She wanted to leap to the third floor like Do Seon-woo, but her ankle wouldn't allow it. Still, she'd climbed fast—or so she thought. By the time she arrived, it was over.
Do Seon-woo versus her entire combat squad: total rout. Well, one survivor, but he'd lost the will to fight. Effectively wiped.
No advantageous position in negotiations now. She swallowed boiling rage, but her throbbing ankle made it impossible, twisting her face as she jabbed a finger at Do Seon-woo.
"You psycho! Fist first when shit goes sideways? You call yourself clergy?!"
"Clergy holding guns and threatening is fine, though?"
"...Fair point. Fine, what's your angle? What do you want?"
She conceded quickly—sound logic—and cut to the chase. If she knew his demands, she could at least negotiate on equal footing.
"Before Han Su-ryeon, release the other two hostages first and negotiate."
"Okay, doable. So, how much for those two?"
She played along. Refusing might provoke who-knows-what from him. As long as the price wasn't insane, she'd pay it as the cost for Han Su-ryeon.
"Seven each."
"...For both?"
"Nah. Each."
"You fucking lunatic! Hey, just call it off. Scrap the deal and kill him—!"
She halted mid-stride, curses venomous as she closed on Do Seon-woo. Her hand, secretly drawing a blessing circle for a 'collision,' froze. Divine power dispersed unfinished.
Her eyes locked unmoving on his hand.
"Don't come closer."
A token gleamed in his bloody grip—one from her third-floor snipers. She'd collected most pre-negotiation, but missed some.
Yeo Min-seo's pupils quivered.
"...You know you can't use that anyway, right? Tokens are bound items. Registered to smartwatches—doesn't matter if you hold it. Snatching during negotiations breaks rules."
She rapid-fired. She talked fast when flustered.
All true. Tokens were bound; only official transfers worked. Consideration for priest squad, preventing combat dominance in practicals. But no rule against mid-negotiation grabs. She'd made that up.
Crack!
Do Seon-woo slammed the token down, splitting it. He stomped it to dust.
Her face blanched.
He smirked faintly.
"No rule against breaking them, right?"
"You motherfucking—!"
"Don't come closer. I'll smash another."
He pulled out a second, threatening. She froze reflexively.
Each token was precious to her. She had to ace this practical. She'd saved dying Gabriel in the prior incident, securing major funding. But sudden cash from him would raise flags for both. His clever fix: scholarship via his foundation. She needed selection first.
Top 10 combined written/practical ranking.
"O-Okay. Calm down, put the token down first."
She forced calm, voice trembling despite efforts.
He set it down gently, peeled dried blood from his knuckles, and spoke.
"You accepting the offer?"
"...Yeah, do whatever the fuck you want. Seven each, you bastard."
He silently handed over the two hostages' handcuff keys. She transferred 14 tokens' ownership. Losses stung her gut. With a good ankle, she'd brawl 1v1—but not now.
"Next, Han Su-ryeon? How much for that bitch? Hundred tokens?"
"Not even asking that much. Fifty?"
"Hah..."
She sighed. Absurd price, but mainly—she had no 50 tokens now. Couldn't abandon Han Su-ryeon, though. The 14 for useless hostages was all for her. Sunk cost.
"...Half that, maybe."
"Half. Hmm..."
He pretended to ponder, dissatisfaction clear. His long, heavy silence built tension. She swallowed unconsciously.
"Then half it to twenty. Plus the fourteen already."
"...Sure, works for me."
She hid glee—showing it might make him balk. He eyed her face, then nodded slowly.
"Okay, twenty."
He gave Han Su-ryeon's key. She transferred 20 tokens, smirking inwardly—until his retreating back soured her mood. Instinct said she'd been had. But deal done.
*
"Nice haul."
Started aiming for twenty total, but wrangled more. Good outcome.
After haggling on the eerie third floor, we descended. Handed Han Su-ryeon—from Kang Dae-man's arms—and the other two to Yeo Min-seo.
"You bitch. How much did I shell out to save your ass?"
"You psycho slut—if you hadn't betrayed us, this wouldn't happen!"
"No betrayal, we'd both be caught. Second-best beats worst."
Yeo Min-seo brazenly unlocked Han Su-ryeon's cuffs. As she freed the others, paladin squad ambushers crept out—over thirty, four squads allied.
"Get lost quick. Hate your faces. Before I beat you and cuff you in ten minutes."
"Yeo Min-seo, your mouth's too foul! How about toning down the swears?"
I stayed quiet; Kang Dae-man stepped up.
She scowled.
"Pretty words get me paid?"
"Nah, not that rich."
"Then butt out. Rip your muscles with muscle destruction arts?"
He thumped his chest confidently.
"No average technique tears my muscles!"
"One gym sesh and egos explode, anchovy boy."
"Can't let that slide. Come at me."
Negotiations frayed her nerves; tone more aggressive. While they bickered, I scouted terrain—for potential rematch plans.
Locked eyes with a girl. Paladin squad, still lurking post-deal, watching me. She widened eyes in startle, hunched, and sneaked away.
"...That yours?"
I pointed; Yeo Min-seo squinted.
"Nah? Don't know her."
"Hey, my friend!"
Han Su-ryeon beamed nearby, then tilted head puzzled.
"But priest squad...? Why here?"
Priest squad froze faces. Lively tension chilled instantly.
She noticed stares, backed away hesitantly—then hammered her smartwatch, sprinting toward priest lines. Reporting position.
(To be continued in the next chapter)