Blood & Flag (5)

Nova Arena was the sum of every cutting-edge technology modern science had piled upon itself, and the grandest playground humankind had ever made.

BCI—Brain-Computer Interface—technology, able to read the brain's senses and motor control in real time, even the memory signals asleep in the unconscious, had torn the very notion of spectating up by the roots. People no longer simply watched a match from the far side of a screen. As if they had become the camera of a third-person RPG, they could roam the map from any angle they liked and drink in the battlefield's tension as it happened. The view was limited to ground already revealed, of course, but even the iron stink of blood and the urgency of the fight could be felt in real time.

In that sense, Chae Geon-wook was watching this portrait of hell through spectator mode himself.

I knew he was strong, but... this strong?

At the unreal sight of a man slipping into a gap thinner than a breath and dropping his opponent, Chae Geon-wook clicked his tongue.

Dropping Raven had only been the start.

Go Tae-min, the demon mask still fixed to his face, scattered red light from his eyes and cut down another pro warrior. It was over in an instant: slip the attack, close the distance, drive the sword into the nape of the neck. That was all it took. The movement was so swift and so exact that even the other spectators streaming the match could not help but marvel.

Chae Geon-wook, who by now had known Go Tae-min for more than ten years, was no exception.

...He's insane.

Looking back, in all those ten years he had never once seen Tae-min carry out a mission, or fight a battle, with his own eyes. All he had known was that the man who went by the codename Ghost was an operator of terrifying skill.

He didn't make special-grade mercenary in three years for nothing.

From then on, Chae Geon-wook watched the fight as if his soul had left his body.

Steel rang. A white man tattooed over every inch of his body came crashing in from behind. Tae-min beat the strike aside, then drove the dagger in his left hand into the man's flank.

"Ghk—!"

That single counter left his opponent half out of the fight. Clutching the wound in his side with one arm, he only flailed his sword at random, trying to keep Tae-min from closing—a desperate thrash to get away from the demon in front of him. Tae-min did not allow the tattooed man to run. In a flash he closed the distance, and his sword sank deep into the throat.

Clean, swift, exact. Chae Geon-wook let out an empty laugh. It was so overwhelming that he could no longer even feel the tension.

...Who the hell was I worried about?

The sequence Tae-min had just shown was precise enough to raise the hair on his neck. Beating the attack aside, drawing the dagger, carving out the opening—every motion was carried out without a wasted inch. Fitting, he supposed, for a man out of the 9th Operations Unit, the outfit said to be nothing but monsters even inside military intelligence. With skill like that, he would survive this match just fine.

Chae Geon-wook was letting out a breath of relief when a chime cut the quiet and drove into his ear.

A mark granted at random to five. A ten-percent bonus on base pay for the kill. On the holder's death, a random jump to someone new. Reading the hidden rule, Chae Geon-wook's brow furrowed.

...Of all the times.

Onto a match he had already penciled in as a comfortable win, an uncontrollable variable had just shoved its way in.

A primeval forest sunk under thick dark. The moment the window appeared, alien blooms of light shot up all across the woods—a red fierce enough to stand out even to Go Tae-min, hidden along one edge of the jungle.

The instant he saw that light, he reached for a calculator.

Two thousand dollars a kill, as a bonus?

And it stacked, no less. The eyes that had been working an efficient hunt only moments ago went cold and still.

If they're offering more money, there's no reason not to take it.

Tae-min turned his head and swept the surroundings. Through the trees, not far off, a red shaft of light wavered. Close—two hundred and fifty meters, give or take. He set off toward the source at once.

Night in the primeval forest was dark enough that he could not judge a single pace ahead. Grass grown tough on rich oxygen scraped his skin raw as he passed, and the closer he drew to the light, the thicker the noise became. Sharp clashes of metal burst one after another from beyond the brush. Then a rough breath, and someone's shout tore the jungle's silence apart.

"Out of the way, you bastard! I called dibs on that one!"

"Shut your mouth! Whoever kills him first takes it!"

When he finally pushed through the undergrowth into open sight, a red sigil wavering in the dark came into view, and around it several warriors were already tangled in a brawl.

Flies on it already.

The mark's owner was a man with a longsword. Every time he swung, the Red Diamond hovering over his head flared hard. Four warriors had piled onto him: a spearman using his reach to choke off the air, a muscular giant swinging a blunt weapon, and two swordsmen constantly crossing to hunt the gaps in the mark-holder's guard.

Tae-min dropped low and closed the distance in silence, using the jungle's cover. Thick brush and the shadows of great trees hid his movement completely. At the center of the melee stood the Red Diamond's owner. Longsword in hand, he was showing off flashy technique against the warriors rushing him. Every time the tip of his blade cut the air, Red Lines tangled and sketched a chilling path. He was holding four men at once and not giving an inch.

And then, through that dizzying web of trajectories, a gap opened for a single instant.

Now!

In that heartbeat, Tae-min's body shot forward like something detonating.

"H-hey—what the—!"

One of the warriors pressing the mark-holder spat out a startled yell, but by the time he spotted the demon mask, it was already too late. Tae-min knifed through the gaps in the pouring Red Lines like a thunderbolt. A single crossing. The pitch-black blade drew a precise line across the mark-holder's throat.

"Khk...!"

The mark-holder clutched his neck and slammed into the ground. Red blood sprayed in every direction and soaked the earth. It had happened in a flash. The warriors who had been driving him only a moment ago froze, faces blank.

"Wh-what? What the hell just happened?"

"Jackson... in one hit?"

"That mask just now... don't tell me that's Demon?"

"Fuck. They said he was the first undefeated promotion out of the Japanese league..."

Voices cracked with shock a beat too late, but Go Tae-min had already vanished into the dark. Those left behind could only breathe out in relief that they had not been his target.

The hunt went on after that. The method was simple: while a melee was in full swing, dive in fast, slip the Red Lines, plant the sword in a vital point, and leave the spot at once. Roaming the jungle that way, his cumulative kills were already at three before he knew it. Briefly hidden up in a tree, Go Tae-min looked at the message floating in the corner of his vision and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smiled, pleased.

This is actually pretty sweet.

Converted into Korean won, it came to a full eight million. He had made that kind of money in a mere twelve hours. That was 1,834 bulgogi burgers. Enough to casually buy three or four of the latest laptops, specced to the max.

I could just pick up a few of those expensive designer puffers they had hanging in the department store, too.

The thought of slipping his younger siblings a little extra spending money left him oddly proud, and Go Tae-min grinned.

Meanwhile the match had entered its middle stretch. Sixty hours remained. About five hundred survivors were still standing. Tae-min turned toward the outer edge of the forest.

Better rest while I can.

He had been roaming this vast jungle for a full twelve hours. Adrenaline kept his body light for now, but the moment the tension broke, the fatigue waiting behind it could not be ignored. Moving in secret, he looked for a decent hiding place. After a long push out toward the fringe, he found a gap where the roots of an enormous tree had tangled together, covering an entrance like a natural cave—just big enough for a person to crawl in and lie down. He checked carefully for any traps someone might have set nearby, then eased his body inside.

The smell of damp earth pricked his nose.

Sleep can wait until I'm home. Here, I just need to top off the battery.

Tae-min sat and laid his sword across his knees. Holding a posture he could explode out of at any moment, he watched the outside through the gaps between the roots, eyes barely open. Once it seemed there would be no fighting for a while, the practical problems of survival drifted through his head. In a long survival match like this, three things mattered most: a hiding place, drinking water, and food. He had found a hideout that would do well enough. Water and food were the problem.

Already covered.

For water, all he had to do was drink from the clean streams scattered across the map. For food, he had heard this match was a survival and packed plenty of chocolate bars. He ought to last the remaining time just fine.

He was resting like that, still watching his surroundings, when his vision went bright enough to turn his stomach.

Huh?

Red light seemed to punch straight through his eyelids. Go Tae-min lifted his head and looked overhead. Inside the narrow hideout, right above him, a red diamond was spinning like a top.

A mark chosen at random from among the survivors. This time, the winner was Go Tae-min.

"......"

The quiet around him broke into noise. The grass in front of him rustled. Warriors nearby had seen the red light pouring off the mark and were closing in.

A moment ago he had been the hunter, chasing bonuses. In the blink of an eye he had become a precious target whose location was being broadcast live. Go Tae-min scratched his head as if this were a genuine inconvenience.

If I still kill the other Red Diamond holders... do I get the bonus anyway?

For him, it was a very important question.