Three prisoners from the Black Parade, three Villains from the Crimson Poverty Front.

The standoff was brief. The battle erupted without warning.

Fwoosh!

A white halo flared behind Iljimae, propelling her toward Ghost in a blast of force.

“Heheheh… I’ve been waaaiting for this moment…!”

She drew two daggers, holding the right in a standard grip and the left in a reverse. She launched a frontal assault, her blades striking like lightning.

“Shall we have a little blade daaance?”

Instead of answering, Ghost swung the steel pipe in her hand to meet the attack.

Clang-clang-clang-clang-CLANG!

In the blink of an eye, Iljimae swung, twisted, and thrust her daggers in a flurry of attacks.

But Ghost casually deflected every single one.

Sparks from the clash of steel flared in the air and died.

Stepping back, Iljimae reset her stance, sounding impressed. “The Greatest Sword of Joseon indeed. Looks like you’re not just coasting on your raaank…!”

“You though… why are you so pathetic?” Ghost asked, her expression deadpan. “You’re a disgrace to the name Iljimae. Can’t you move any faster?”

“…!”

A flash of rage crossed Iljimae’s gloomy face. “Can you handle it?”

“And then some.”

“Youuu’ll regret this…!”

“Doubt it.”

“Grrr!” Beneath the Imae mask, Iljimae’s slack mouth tightened.

Vwong!

The number of white halos behind her increased to three: one at her back and one on each shoulder.

“The title of Greatest Sword of Joseon…” Iljimae’s hollow eyes glinted with a ghastly light. “I’m taking it for myself!”

FWOOSH!

Propulsion erupted from all three halos.

Iljimae shot forward like a rocket, instantly closing in on Ghost’s flank. A moment later, she reversed her thrust, changing direction in a disorienting feint to reappear on Ghost’s other side.

With bizarrely erratic movements, she unleashed a dazzling, propulsion-fueled storm of dagger strikes.

Iljimae was certain at least one of her dozens of strikes would graze her target…

CRACK!

But the next moment, her vision exploded in a flash of white.

Ghost had not only dodged out of dagger range with just a few steps but had also found a perfect opening, smashing the pipe upward into Iljimae’s jaw.

“…?!”

“Don’t get cocky.”

Iljimae stared in astonishment through her wavering consciousness.

“I spar every day with a pesky brat who’s way faster than you,” Ghost spat coldly.

***

“Hmm~ My only job today was to escort these two…”

Cashier struck a pose, showing off his statuesque, muscular body before giving a little wink.

“Looks like I’ll have to fight after all. What to do? It’s been a while since I’ve had to get my hands dirty… Oh well. Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“…”

Having reverted from his Therianthrope form, Cashier was dressed in a revealingly small swimsuit that left his massive, gleaming thigh muscles on full display.

Standing before him was Hwang Jin-yi, an older woman in a black hanbok, her eyes cold behind her Halmi mask.

Cashier covered his mouth and giggled like a lady. Even with his hand in the way, his distinctively cleft chin was clearly visible.

“Hey there, sis~ Looks like we’re matched up. A random pairing like this is part of the fun of the nightlife, isn’t it?”

“Tsk.” Hwang Jin-yi finally spoke. “I don’t know where to look. What is that shameful getup?”

“And why are you so bundled up, girl? We’re at sea, you know. You could stand to show a little skin.”

It was the sea, yes, but it was also a night in early winter.

Hwang Jin-yi clicked her tongue at her nonsensical opponent. A milky-white fog began to rise around her black hanbok.

“You are precisely the type of person I find most unpleasant.”

“Oh, really? I don’t mind your type at all, sis~”

“My mission was simply to transport those two pups, not to fight. But… as you say, it seems it can’t be helped.”

Crack, creak…

A terrible sound of grinding bone rose from Hwang Jin-yi’s frame.

“I’ll end this quickly.”

The next moment, Cashier’s mouth fell slightly agape.

Her small frame remained the same, but her entire body was now covered in gray fur. And crucially… nine swaying tails had sprouted from her back.

Hwang Jin-yi was a Therianthrope, too.

Type: Nine-tailed Fox.

Hwang Jin-yi laughed softly. She licked her long snout, her eyes curving wickedly behind the mask. “Looking at that healthy body of yours… your liver must be delicious.”

“…”

“Would you… share a piece of it with me?”

Cashier broke into a cold sweat. “Uh, on second thought? I think I should be the one finding you unpleasant…”

With a soft cackle, Hwang Jin-yi vanished, seeming to melt into the fog. She intended to hide and calculate her angle of attack.

THOOM!

But she had to abandon that thought immediately.

With a single, powerful stomp of his muscular foot—a Quake Step—Cashier blasted the surrounding fog away.

“With enough physical force, even exorcism is easy.”

“…”

“It seems you’ve been performing some non-consensual liver transplants. Today, I’m going to change your palate, sis!”

Hwang Jin-yi clicked her tongue softly. The sound was somewhere between annoyed and strangely amused.

***

Jeon Woo-chi and Han Jae-hee stood facing each other, their gazes locked in silence.

While the other two pairs had already erupted into fierce combat, the teleporter and the speedster remained motionless.

Like two masters of the quick draw, hands resting on their sheaths.

Like two master gunslingers, hands hovering over their holsters.

“So it comes down to a battle of speed,” Jeon Woo-chi said, smirking behind his Choraengi mask. “Think you can keep up with me, Boy?”

“…”

“I’m ridiculously fast, you know. When I go all out, no one’s ever caught me.”

“Same here,” Jae-hee replied seriously. “I’ve never met anyone faster than me.”

“Looks like one of our winning streaks ends today.” Jeon Woo-chi gestured with his eyes toward the other side of the deck.

The escort vessel Milton was not small; the distance from one end to the other was considerable.

“Let’s have a contest. The rules are simple: cops and robbers. The robber wins if he escapes, the cop wins if he catches him.”

“…”

“I’ll give you the choice. You wanna be the cop or the robber?”

“The cop.” Jae-hee didn’t hesitate. “This time, we’re the ones doing the catching.”

“Heh heh, I like that.” Jeon Woo-chi nodded with a laugh, winking from behind his mask. “I’m more comfortable running away, anyway…!”

FLASH!

Jeon Woo-chi vanished.

He used Blink ten times in a row. To a distant observer, it would have looked as if he’d teleported over a hundred meters in an instant.

Even after all that, he still had energy to spare. He continued to Blink, glancing back over his shoulder.

“So, can’t keep up—”

But when Jeon Woo-chi looked back—Jae-hee was right behind him.

WHOOSH!

His muscles screamed in protest, bringing tears to his eyes, but the Boy—now a streak of pure blue wind—already had a hand on Jeon Woo-chi’s shoulder.

“Gotcha.”

Looking dumbfounded, Jeon Woo-chi muttered, “Come on, this is just too—”

WHAM!

The Boy’s knee, carried by his incredible speed, slammed squarely into the Taoist’s solar plexus. Jeon Woo-chi couldn’t dodge the attack, delivered in the infinitesimal gap between one Blink and the next.

“Gahk…!”

Blood gushed from his wide-open mouth behind the Choraengi mask.

***

A light fog hung over the deck as six Awakened fought.

“Gaack! Urrrk…!”

Iljimae was taking a one-sided beating. All her daggers had been broken, and now she was trying to fight with her bare hands. Ghost showed no mercy, hammering her with the steel pipe.

Iljimae wailed, her voice weak and tearful. “Gimme the Greatest Sword of Joseon title! Waaah…!”

“As if.”

Ghost snorted and swung the pipe in a clean, powerful arc, like a baseball bat.

CLANG!

The pipe caught Iljimae square on the jaw. She flew into the air for a moment before collapsing to the deck, unconscious, like a puppet with its strings cut.

The speed duel between Jeon Woo-chi and Jae-hee had also been decided.

“Haah... haah... haah...!”

In terms of average skill, stamina, and ability duration, Jeon Woo-chi was far superior.

But the impact of Jae-hee’s full-sprint knee strike had been too great. Clutching his bruised solar plexus, Jeon Woo-chi was still reeling in agony. He was barely managing to dodge the follow-up attacks with Blink, but that was his limit.

The problem was, Jae-hee was in the same boat.

“Heegh... heegh... heegh...!”

The Boy had gambled everything on that first exchange. Thankfully, the gamble had paid off, landing a solid blow.

But that was it. His stamina was completely drained. Already exhausted from overexerting himself the day before, his ability’s duration was shorter than usual, and the chase had consumed what little energy he had left.

For Jae-hee, it hadn’t been a gamble so much as the only option he had.

And so, all he could do now was flail at Jeon Woo-chi with limp, exhausted punches.

“Haah... haah... haah...!”

“Heegh... heegh... heegh...!”

Gone were their earlier posturing, replaced by a pitiful sight.

Jae-hee swung his fists limply, while Jeon Woo-chi, knowing that even one of those weak punches could finish him, desperately used Blink to tumble across the deck.

This sloppy, flailing brawl—so unbecoming of a speedster and a teleporter—went on for a long, long while.

“Arghh, I’m dying. Hey, Boy! Let’s call a temporary truce—”

Just as he said it, he Blinked away from a punch—right into the path of Ghost’s swinging steel pipe.

“Ah.”

Jeon Woo-chi registered the attack a beat too late, with no mental energy left to react.

CLANG!

With a satisfying ring of metal, the pipe struck the back of his head. He bounced off the deck like a basketball and rolled away.

“Oh baby, now that was satisfying.”

Twirling the pipe in her hand, Ghost glared ahead.

Iljimae and Jeon Woo-chi were unconscious, sprawled gracelessly on the deck. 

The only Villain from the Crimson Poverty Front still standing was Hwang Jin-yi.

Hwang Jin-yi wordlessly surveyed the miserably defeated forms of her comrades, shaking her head with a low sigh.

Ghost pointed the end of her pipe at the woman and smirked. “What’ll it be, Nine-tails? Seems to me the game is over.”

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