Disguised Peace 3

Gangnam's nights outshone its days in splendor. Among them, the VIP room of Club Miracle, said to be the hottest spot.

The pop of champagne corks. Laser lights danced in chaotic frenzy.

"Cheers! To the glorious latte art of our Gangsaeng Pizza!"

Black Rose seized the mic and shouted. Beside her, Adel von Kraiber thrashed her head wildly, clutching champagne bottles instead of pizza slices in both hands. Dokki and Kim Sil-jang, shirts discarded, gyrated atop the table.

This mad revelry was being broadcast live.

On screen, Black Rose pretended to wipe tears, but the towering Dom Pérignon pyramid behind her proved her sorrow was mere crocodile tears.

Holy Church, situation room. A heavy silence hung in the air. The hand gripping Isha von Estel's report clenched with force. The crumpling paper rustled unnaturally loud.

"So..." Isha's voice dropped low. "While the warehouse was raided, they were dancing in Gangnam?"

"Yes, Saintess." The intel chief sweated coldly, proffering a tablet PC. "InstaLive, club CCTV, countless eyewitnesses. Perfect alibis for Black Rose, Adel, and all subordinates. Timings match exactly."

"Then..." Isha ground her teeth. "The culprit is just one man."

"Indeed. Lee Han. Solo job, we estimate."

Isha's head throbbed. Lee Han. That slippery bastard had finally done it. Sent his crew to the club for distraction, then slipped through the Holy Church's barriers alone to sweep the purified mandrakes.

What's his game? Money? Power? Or... to torment me?

A monitoring agent shouted urgently. "Saintess! New post on Hunter ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Inside! From... Lee Han himself!"

"What? Pull it up! Now!"

The main screen switched. Everyone in the room—priests and knights—froze at the post.

"Th-this...!" Isha couldn't continue. Absurdity beyond rage engulfed her. The blood mandrakes she'd labored to purify? Reduced to ramen topping. And that brazen selfie.

"We have to catch him. Now!"

Yohan blocked the fuming Isha. "Saintess! Calm down! That's what he wants. To rile you up and lure you out!"

"Move, Yohan! That's blasphemy! Against me—no, against the Holy Church!"

"I know! But his location's untraceable. Charging out plays into his hands!"

Isha huffed, slumping into her seat. Infuriating, but Yohan was right. Lee Han was toying with her.

Gangwon, some nameless ruin. I monitored reactions via smartphone comments.

"Good response."

I popped a boiled blood mandrake slice into my mouth. Bitter tang. Pure mana spread from my gut.

"Saintess-brand quality is premium, alright."

I emptied the pot and lay on the floor. Stars peeked through the ceiling holes.

Outwardly taunting like a madman, but inside, unease churned.

Black Moon's leader. The Silent Elder.

Two elders dead, yet he hadn't surfaced. Ice-cold, unflinching even as his org crumbled.

Pre-regression, I'd never seen his face. Till humanity's end, he lurked in shadows, pulling strings.

Can't find him conventional ways.

So, bait with what he fears most—what derails his plans: Holy Church full mobilization.

Not the Saintess solo, but the massive institution scouring every crevice. Heaven's net. Unescapable siege.

Even the Silent Elder would bolt from shadows then.

The key? Solely Isha von Estel.

"Sorry, Isha." I muttered skyward. "Not my real feelings. But... you gotta get really pissed. Rage past reason."

I grabbed my phone again. Gallery login. Time to drop the world's deadliest, dirtiest fake news.

I hit send and chucked the phone far.

Korea's internet servers nearly crashed.

Holy Church. The Saintess's office was an ice cavern.

"......"

Isha said nothing. Her tablet PC was snapped in half, junk on the floor. Her radiating holy power rippled like razor blades.

Crack.Crackle. The desk glass cracked.

"Saintess..." Yohan stammered in terror. Overt killing intent from her.

"Yohan." Her voice was a barely audible whisper.

"Y-yes, Saintess!"

"Prepare... the procedure."

"P-procedure? Lawsuit for defamation?"

"No." Her red eyes held no mercy—only judgment flames to scorch the world.

"That one."

Yohan's breath caught. That. Holy Church's ultimate, taboo power for national emergencies only.

"S-Saintess! Too dangerous! For one rumor?!"

"Rumor?" Isha sneered. The chill raised goosebumps on Yohan's arms.

"This isn't a rumor. It's... terrorism shaking the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Holy Church's foundations."

She rose, staring out the window. "Lee Han crossed the line. Mocked my patience, mercy, and... my pure heart."

Marriage papers? Pizza newlyweds? Retirement? Shoehorning her name into that filth, packaging stolen mandrakes as dowry?

"I'll kill him. For real this time. With my own hands."

Isha turned to Yohan. "Petition His Holiness the Pope. Request Heaven's Net activation."

"But! Needs three conditions!"

"Conditions?" Isha ticked fingers. "One: Harm to Holy Church. State theft, Saintess defamation. Enough?"

Yohan swallowed. "Two: Major societal impact. Outside's riot-ready. Public faith wavers. Fail to catch Lee Han, our authority crumbles."

"Y-yes, but..."

"Three." Last finger. "Saintess's judgment."

She yanked her seal from the drawer. No docs—slam! on the desk floor.

"Approved."

Desk splintered. "Conditions met?"

Yohan eyed the wreckage and crisp seal. Then her eyes. No turning back. Hesitate, and her rage might burn the Church.

Trembling, Yohan crossed himself. "...Understood. Conditions... fulfilled."

He pulled a red emergency beacon. Last glance: No regrets?

Isha nodded coldly. Yohan pressed.

—WEE-OOO-WEE-OOO!!

Alarms blared across Holy Church—no, every cathedral in Korea.