Italy Gate (1)
***
The International Returnee Gallery continued to buzz with endless nonsense even after that. With a new noob showing up, the vibe was electric.
Everyone figured the day would end peacefully as usual.
"Mira? Hargas? Fine... Time for us to make an example."
If a streak of light hadn't shot from the Republic of Korea toward Italy, it might've.
Even in a straight-line instant burst, its top speed could circle Earth seven and a half times per second.
Locking onto the gate in Turin via Google Maps, my body rocketed straight there.
BOOOOM!
"Kyaaaaaaaah?!"
"What the—meteor?!"
"No, look! Someone's walking out!"
Turin, Italy. Right next to the evacuation zone swarming with gate refugees, an explosion erupted.
I'd pinpointed it via the nearby refugee service, after all.
"Oof... Even throttled, bare body can't handle it."
Bones, muscles, skin—none spared. The g-forces in that split second were no joke.
But no regrets. This was necessary punishment.
"4242... Gotta be this chick, right?"
My gaze locked on her: a black-haired woman in a black-and-white fur coat. Her mid-length hair and faint dark circles oozed decadent allure.
Hunting a specific person via clunky internet? Not easy.
But not this time.
"Top 10 most wanted in the world. What a flashy rampage."
Returnee plastered right at the top of the big mafia names. Only an idiot wouldn't notice.
"80 million dollars? No terrorist could touch that."
Whatever. No big issues expected.
***
"Damn, what the hell at 4 AM...?!"
"Can't be helped. Sudden gates are straight-up natural disasters."
Before the gate in Turin: no cops prepping it.
"Boss'll hook us up with bonuses, no doubt."
"Yeah, tough as nails and big-hearted to match."
All burly, mean-looking thugs. Mana users packing pistols anyway.
Europe's strongest mafia: Los Eva Family.
"Hey, who goes there."
"Road's closed. Dangerous—turn back!"
"Dangerous, so turn back?"
A soft rustle of sand.
Someone appeared before them and asked.
"You know who I am, and that's why you're spouting this nonsense?"
"Uh...?"
"Wait a sec..."
Kishea Arcradiel's lips curved faintly.
Not her usual light, irreverent vibe.
This was the absolute sovereign's dignity in her voice.
Only then did the dozen-plus mafiosi grasp one question about the situation.
Who the hell were we even talking to...?
No perception manipulation.
They'd simply failed to see.
"No wonder—spewing black smoke from your eyes, what could you see?"
"Wha—?!"
No mana technique.
Just transcending human limits through honed ability, reaching supernatural peaks.
Kishea Arcradiel—one nation's monarch at the pinnacle of charisma—unleashed her ultimate state.
Solar God's Radiance.
"Gaaaaah!"
"My eyes! They're burning!"
Even glimpsing her cloaked in that light—unworthy insects scorched blind.
No hand raised needed to steal mana or lives.
A brilliant blaze.
"Lie still. I have business with your boss."
She'd already passed them, stepping into the gate, red eyes flashing command.
Left behind: mere autumn leaves in wind.
Not one of the squad stood.
"...Skills check out, at least."
Monsters on the ground? Gate linking Earth and Mother.
High-rank too—house-sized beasts, felled bloodless, vital strikes.
Even Kishea Arcradiel nodded in admiration.
Artistic slaughter.
"Hard to say for sure yet. But sword marks hint at some aesthetic. Unrelated to why I'm here, but... I like it."
Genuine praise.
Earthlings might point fingers.
Lauding an 80-million-dollar fiend.
"Guess meeting her will tell."
But don't mistake: mafia target or not, this was for Kishea's pride.
No moral judgment.
Pharaohs make their own law; justice is their whim.
"Anyway, planning to smack every gallery returnee I meet at least once."
Light looks, heavy substance. Absolute power, arbitrary rule.
"We'll see. But learning bit by bit would be ideal."
Cocky. But bold—entertaining.
As Lee Cheol-su's probe and Kishea's thoughts at their first meeting proved.
The fourth oldest monarch in a world bends to tiny Korea's order for one reason: her own amusement.
Times change, but Mother's brutal—survival of the ruthless. Surely I'm not the only one.
Returnees like Kishea inevitably rebuilt ego and history amid alien laws.
Crossing life-death countless times, ascending beyond mortal grasp.
Dazzlingly brilliant, dangerously so.
No Peace for Citizens Beside Unleashed Monsters!
Enact Special Management Laws—Channel That Power Rightfully!
Monitor and Suppress Isekai Gray-Zone Businesses—Esential!
Meanwhile, modern democratic Earth nations are driven by the masses.
As blatant banners near Korea's National Assembly proved—even without extreme rhetoric, global tensions had swelled over ages, ready to burst.
Whatever form the trigger took, the taut bowstring between sides would spark upheaval...
Sooner than anyone vaguely imagined.