Heaven's Net 1

3 a.m. The employees of Atonement Slice, fresh from their after-work drinks, stumbled out of the club in a daze.

"Ugh... the world's spinning...."

Black Rose wobbled toward the parked van's driver's seat.

"Hop in, everyone. You know I'm the best driver, right? Hold on tight."

"STOP!!!"

Adel screamed and blocked Black Rose's path. Despite her flushed cheeks from the booze, her eyes were dead serious.

"Unnie! Are you crazy? Drunk driving is murder! It's a violation of the Road Traffic Act!"

"Oh, Adel. Don't worry. With my healing factor, I can break down the alcohol in no time...."

"No way! Lee Han said we have to break the law while following it—that's what makes us cool!"

Adel snatched the car keys from Black Rose's hand with finality.

"Then should we call a designated driver?"

"What are you talking about? Who do you think we are, calling a driver? I've got it all prepared."

Adel pulled a small metal sphere from her pocket and tossed it to the ground.

"Come out! Designated Driver Golem No. 1!"

With a pop!, a puff of white smoke heralded the appearance of a life-sized doll in front of the driver's door. Sleek metal body clad in a suit, complete with white gloves—a humanoid golem.

"Whoa... ma'am. When did you make this one?"

Dokki's question made Adel rub her nose smugly.

"Assembled it from leftover parts after building Supreme Hunter. No combat functions, but its driving skills rival a Formula One racer. Alright, everyone, pile in! Golem oppa will take us home!"

"Ooh! As expected of Adel-nim! Such a strong sense of law-abiding spirit!"

The organization members cheered as they climbed into the van. The golem settled smoothly into the driver's seat and gripped the wheel.

"Head out. To the coordinates Lee Han gave us."

With a smooth ride, the van slipped out of Gangnam.

The abandoned factory on Seoul's outskirts was a pile of rubble thanks to Kim Sil-jang's "thoughtful" actions. Their destination was a luxury mansion complex in Seongbuk-dong—not far from Gangnam, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but unlisted on any maps. The grandest one, surrounded by towering walls.

"We... didn't get the wrong place, did we?"

Dokki peered out the window and asked.

"It's the place the Elder of Abundance used as a second home. Ownership's under a ghost corporation—no traces."

Adel had the golem input the security code, and the heavy iron gates slid open silently.

"Whoa......"

Gasps erupted from the members.

Marble floors, ornate chandeliers—and most importantly.

"It's huge! Freaking massive!"

"Perfect HVAC, top-tier soundproofing. We could run the grinder all night here and get zero complaints!"

An environment perfectly suited for working them around the clock. Adel staked her claim in the middle of the living room, beaming.

"Perfect! This is main lab territory! Kids, unpack!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Kim Sil-jang especially shone, hauling gear at near-light speed to atone for the factory fiasco.

"Where does this go? I'll handle it! I'll clean the floors too!"

"Whoa, Kim Sil-jang. You're making me uncomfortable. Take it easy."

"No, sir. This eases my mind."

Adel waved him off and approached the main desk. Pristine mahogany, dust-free. A single white envelope sat atop it.

"Adel tore open the envelope.

"'Always the best at making us work.'"

She grumbled, but her eyes gleamed with the mad scientist's signature mania.

Heaven's Net. An inescapable web over heaven and earth. Holy Church magic drones and high mages' surveillance eyes floated across the skies nationwide. Knights in white uniforms checked IDs on major roads and alleys.

"Please present your ID."

"Open the trunk."

The whole Republic of Korea felt like a massive prison under suffocating pressure. Yet amid the choking siege, one dot moved leisurely.

Lee Han. Blending into the crowd, black coat collar up.

More vicious than expected.

Every step brought prickling stares on his skin. The saintess's fury-fueled net was relentless. Any mana use or suspicious move, and his position would be exposed.

Good. This is the level that restrains even the Silent Elder.

Holy Church's full might cast the net for him—but he wasn't the only one who had to dodge it.

"Hey? That guy over there...?"

At a checkpoint, a knight narrowed his eyes at Lee Han's back. He casually turned into an alley.

"Halt!"

Knights blew whistles and pursued. He tore a scroll from his pocket.

Flash! His form vanished ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into thin air.

By the time knights arrived, only a scorched scrap remained.

"Lost him! Mana reaction in sector 3!"

"Tighten the net! He can't have gone far!"

Lee Han slipped through like a rat—or a ghost. Seoul to Gangwon, Gangwon to Chungcheong. His elusive trail mocked the Holy Church across the nation.

Half a day later, he surfaced in the unlikeliest spot.

Busan Seomyeon. The authentic pork backbone soup joint, passed down three generations: True Grandma's Pork Soup.

Lunch hour, yet the place was empty. Sole customer: a black-coated man at the corner table with a steaming ttukbaegi.

Thud-thud-thud-thud! Helicopter rotors roared outside. Fierce winds rattled the windows.

"Aigoo... my shop's gonna shatter."

The owner grandma wiped her hands on her apron, grumbling.

I chewed my pickled radish casually. "Don't worry. I paid plenty for repairs."

"True, but... that brute woman flies helicopters like personal taxis."

Creak. The door opened, blinding light pouring in. A woman in self-luminous silver armor: Saintess Isha von Estel. Heavily armed knights layered the perimeter outside.

"Just me inside."

Isha closed the rattling door and strode to my table. Her red eyes looked down, swirling with fury, betrayal, and odd relief.

"You sure know how to run."

Her voice was ice. "Nationwide martial-law-level lockdown, and here you are, casually slurping soup. Now disrupting small businesses too?"

"Disrupting?" I set down my spoon and glanced at the owner. "Rented the whole ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place for today. Paid upfront, generously."

"That's right. This young man's good with money."

Grandma chimed from the kitchen. Isha's brow furrowed slightly.

"You think money solves everything."

"At least it solves hunger." I nodded at the opposite chair. "Sit. We eat to live, after all."

"You want me to... dine with a criminal?"

"Criminal? No conviction yet. Just suspicion. And..." I dropped it knowingly. "You're hungry too."

"...Ha."

Isha let out a disbelieving scoff. "Food goes down in this situation? You turned the country upside down."

"That's why you need to eat. Gotta have strength to catch me or not."

Grrroooowl.

A grand, pitiful rumble echoed in the tension. An involuntary cry from Isha's stomach.

"......"

"......"

Her face flushed beet red. For 24 hours, she'd skipped meals chasing Lee Han nationwide. Even a saintess's body yields to an empty stomach.

"......See? What'd I tell you?" I grinned. Isha bit her lip.

She wanted to draw Holy Sword Justia and shut that smug mouth—but biology didn't care.

"......Just a moment. A very brief one."

Swallowing pride, she plopped into the chair. Instantly, grandma slammed down a ttukbaegi.

"Eat up. Girl's skin and bones—how'll you fight?"

Bubbling milky broth. Savory pork scent assaulted the nose. Isha eyed it. Looked tasty. But pride held her back. Her hand trembled over the spoon.

I pulled fresh spoon and chopsticks from the holder. "Won't taste good like that."

"Pardon?"

"Pork soup isn't eaten like that."

Seasoning jars danced under my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hands. Spoon of shrimp sauce. Fistful of fermented skate. Heaps of red datagi paste.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" Isha yelped.

The pure white broth turned blood-red hellsoup in seconds.

"Why defile perfectly good soup? That's an insult to food!"

"Insult? Ask Grandma."

I stirred rice, broth, seasonings. Looks rough, but the aroma was violently tempting.

"Adel reacted like you at first. One bite, and she scraped the bowl sobbing."

"Don't compare me to that glutton witch."

Isha crossed arms, turned away. "I'm not eating that freakish mix."

"Too bad." I slid the pot her way. "One bite, and I might tell you where the mandrakes are."

"......!"

Her head snapped back. Eyes shook. Mandrakes. Stolen national asset, pretext to catch Lee Han. Spill for one bite of soup?

"...For real?"

"You know my credit. Merchants don't lie."

"You're a conman."

"Exactly why you trust me. I move for profit."

Isha wavered. Saintess pride vs. national interest and hunger.

This isn't compromise. It's interrogation tactics. Advanced psych war to extract info.

With resolve, she gripped the spoon. "......Keep that promise."

"Of course."

Isha scooped a heaping spoonful of red broth, rice, meat. Shut her eyes tight and shoved it in.