‘…What is this?’

Yeomyeong frowned. He hadn’t sensed any mana or presence behind him as he was being approached.

As he belatedly focused his senses, he felt a very faint presence.

The moment he tried to turn his head a bit more to identify the figure, a cold gun barrel pressed firmly against his cheek.

"Uh-uh, don’t think about turning any further. Just raise your hands over your head."

The tone was imposing, but the playful voice made it sound less like a threat.

"Do yourself a favor and let go of that grip and raise your hands."

Yeomyeong frowned as he kept his hold on the rat’s neck. Should he let this guy go?

The decision didn’t take long. He decided to assess the situation first.

"This is a personal matter. I’d suggest you stay out of it."

"It’s personal for me, too. My hobby happens to be saving people."

She spoke as if she was a champion of justice, but her words were clearly a lie.

A faint sense of relief flashed across the rat’s face as it gasped for air.

Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes and continued.

"What’s your relationship with this guy?"

"…Nothing at all."

A tense silence settled between them. Moments later, a heavy sigh broke the quiet, like fog lifting from the air.

"Haa, guess I’m no good at lying. I know Wallard by face, at least. Satisfied?"

Yeomyeong debated with himself, still clutching Wallard’s neck. Snapping it right here and now would be tempting, but the gun aimed at his face was a problem.

He sighed and threw Wallard onto the ground.

"Ugh, gah, cough, cough!"

Wallard rolled over and lay on the floor, wheezing and foaming slightly at the mouth.

As the shooter watched him struggle, she finally spoke up.

"You said it’s a personal matter? What did he do to you that you were ready to snap his neck like a chicken?"

"…He tried to kill my mentor."

"Oh, so it’s rightful revenge?"

Wallard, overhearing this, suddenly interjected, still gasping.

"No, no! That’s not true! Absolutely not!"

"What’s not true?"

"All of it! It’s all a misunderstanding. I-I hold his mentor in high regard as well. We had a bit of a misunderstanding…"

"Hey."

The moment that word “misunderstanding” slipped out, Yeomyeong cut him off and drew on his mana.

Beneath his golden eyes, a spark of rage flickered.

"Was bringing five superhuman thugs and grabbing him by the collar your idea of a ‘bit’ of a misunderstanding?"

"No, it wasn’t… I didn’t intend…"

"Shut your mouth."

Not only did Wallard, who couldn’t sense mana, fall silent, but so did the shooter. Yeomyeong glared at him with a murderous intent that seemed ready to explode at any moment.

It was a hair-trigger situation. After a brief silence, the shooter let out a sigh.

"Ha, he really is a bastard, isn’t he?"

The rat remained silent, his head drooping low. Yeomyeong gathered his mana and readied his Pyang-gyeol.

‘Playtime’s over.’

As he raised his hand for the next strike, the gun barrel pressed against his cheek shifted.

Bang!

The shooter fired a shot at Wallard’s calf without warning.

Both Wallard and Yeomyeong blinked in surprise at the sudden and unannounced attack.

"Argh! Damn it! My leg! My leg!"

It was only after Wallard felt the pain that he started screaming and clutching his leg.

Whatever the bullet was, it had pierced cleanly through his calf bone and muscle. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Yeomyeong’s voice was low and steady. The mana for his Pyang-gyeol was already dissipating from the interruption.

"I’ve got this condition where I feel the need to shoot every bastard I see… well, at least it’s not fatal."

"…A wound like that will kill him from blood loss."

"He’ll be fine if he gets treated within three minutes."

Her tone was filled with confidence, as if she’d done this many times before. Yeomyeong finally turned to look at his opponent.

Where the shooter had been standing, there was now only empty air.

What Yeomyeong saw instead was a delicate hand holding a revolver, floating in midair.

‘…Invisibility magic.’

Yeomyeong immediately recognized the type of magic and raised an eyebrow. It was the same spell Freya Khan had used to hide her twin swords.

He didn’t know how difficult invisibility magic was, but fully cloaking one’s body with it couldn’t be easy.

This shooter was either an extraordinary magician or in possession of an extraordinary magical artifact. Either way, this wasn’t an opponent to take lightly.

‘Should I fight? Or…’

As Yeomyeong’s mana returned to its place, hurried footsteps and shouting echoed from down the alley.

• Who the hell is shooting at lunchtime?
• We’re just trying to eat, damn it!

It was the voices of the military police responsible for maintaining order in the mercenary zone. They sounded close, like they’d be here any minute.

‘Did she fire that shot just to bring the military police here?’

Yeomyeong glared at the invisible shooter. She—or rather, the voice was clearly that of a woman—spun the revolver playfully.

"Oh dear, the MPs are coming. Let’s go our separate ways, shall we? If you leave him here, he’s going to die."

"What if I refuse?"

"What, you want to leave him to die? But there’s no need to kill him."

"…."

"He’s got a hole in his calf. Even if he gets treated, he’ll feel it in his bones for the rest of his life. Isn’t that punishment enough?"

"Every time his bones ache, it could fuel his desire for revenge."

"Well… that might be true… but I swear, the Blue Rats will never bother you or your mentor again."

She sounded like she’d wink if she weren’t invisible. Yeomyeong glared at the empty space where she likely stood.

After a moment, she added awkwardly.

"Ah, come on. Isn’t this enough to convince you?"

"Do I look like a fool who’d trust someone who won’t even show their face?"

"How skeptical. Even religious people trust gods they’ve never seen."

"I don’t go to temples."

"Oh, I see. Must be nice to be a non-believer."

As they bickered, Wallard panted weakly with half-lidded eyes, showing signs of imminent death from blood loss.

"Damn, he really is going to die at this rate."

The shooter sighed and fiddled with the gun. Was she planning to shoot again? Yeomyeong tensed up.

Tap.

Contrary to his expectation, she tossed the gun to the ground.

Then, raising both arms, she reached into the air and "opened" something invisible.

A transparent veil of magic parted, revealing what had been hidden behind it.

Between the jaw and neck—a smooth jawline, a slender neck, and something large.

Watching her actions, Yeomyeong frowned, wondering what she was up to.

Without a word, she reached between her breasts and pulled out something.

A pendant marked with a bleeding heart emblem above crossed swords and axes. It wasn’t from Earth, but it was a symbol even Earthlings would recognize.

The symbol of Redox, the Crimson God of War, venerated by warriors beyond the dimensional gate.

Why was she showing this now? Yeomyeong’s brow furrowed as a warm flow of mana began to emanate from the pendant.

It wasn’t mana she was imbuing; it was mana the pendant was producing on its own.

"…A holy relic?"

Unlike magical artifacts that require external mana to function, a relic blessed by a deity emits its own mana.

Proof of faith, and a reward for devotion.

"Good, you recognize it right away. Yeah, it’s a relic."

The mana radiating from the relic was thick enough to make his skin tingle.

It wasn’t a mere relic distributed to priests but a high-grade one, the kind you’d only see on TV. That meant she was likely a high-ranking cleric as well…

"You’re not a shooter; you’re a cleric."

"I’d rather be a shooter."

She held the pendant and pulled it from her chest, extending her hand toward Yeomyeong.

"Here, take it."

"…What?"

"It’s a collateral for my vow. If that rat ever harms your mentor again, take this to a Redox temple. I guarantee they’ll exact a proper vengeance."

"…."

"Isn’t that enough assurance?"

Yeomyeong stared at the pendant and then at the invisible air, before finally taking the relic.

He didn’t trust her, but he did trust the relic and the Church of Redox.

The only temple that truly spoke with the gods. They were the ones who would personally hunt down those who dared to use their name in vain.

Perhaps this relic was the most reliable collateral in existence.

Still, there’s no answer more certain than death. He mulled over the thought as he let her pass.

The shooter swiftly hid her upper body behind the invisibility spell and rushed to Wallard.

"Wallard, you idiot. Can’t even take a single bullet."

As Yeomyeong subtly moved his hand toward his weapon, he noticed a flash of white light from the invisible hands.

It wasn’t the fake light shown by charlatans, but the true, holy light that brought about miracles. Not even the clerics he remembered from the Incheon Diocese could emit a light like that.

‘Why would a cleric of this caliber be working with the Blue Rats?’

Questions swirled in his mind, but none came to the surface. He knew that light represented the will of the gods. If he killed her here, would the gods let him go unpunished? Perhaps it was wiser to trust in the guarantee of the relic and walk away.

As he deliberated between killing and believing, voices from down the alley grew louder.

• Check alleys three and eleven! Those are the last ones!

The shouts of the military police sounded from not too far away. Could he kill them both before they arrived? The answer was no.

Yeomyeong released his hand from his weapon and felt the warmth of the relic in his pocket. Was it the will of the gods, or just a coincidence? He couldn’t tell, nor did he care to.

Without another word, he turned and walked away in the opposite direction down the alley. He wasn’t sure how this encounter would unfold in the future… but for now, it was time to leave.

As he walked away, her playful voice rang out from behind him.

"Hey! It was terrible meeting you—let’s make sure it never happens again!"

Funny, that sort of remark always seemed to ensure another meeting. Yeomyeong made no reply and simply left the alley.

 

Yeomyeong and Kim Man-su crossed paths on the road in front of the mercenary base camp.

"How is it that you left first but arrived at the same time as me?"

Yeomyeong's clothes were covered in dust. Although Kim Man-su was instinctively certain that something had happened, Yeomyeong’s expression was unnervingly calm.

"I got lost on the way."

"Got lost? What about the map?"

"I lost it."

Kim Man-su’s eyebrow raised at Yeomyeong’s casual response. He wanted to snap at him, but he had been sleeping soundly in the car, so he held his tongue.

"Haa, well, at least we made it to the base camp."

In the end, Kim Man-su entered the base camp without saying anything more.

Creak.

As soon as the door opened, its rusty hinges let out a screech.

It seemed to serve as a doorbell of sorts, as about a dozen mercenaries inside the camp turned to look at them simultaneously.

"Oh? Deputy Commander? Aren’t you supposed to be under disciplinary action?"

The first to speak was a man with a scruffy beard. He seemed to be cleaning his firearm, as a disassembled assault rifle lay neatly in front of him.

"Still under it. I’m here as an instructor."

"Instructor?"

The middle-aged man glanced at Yeomyeong, who was standing behind Kim Man-su.

Maybe Yeomyeong looked younger than he had expected, because he chuckled and said,

"Didn’t I always tell you to temper that temper of yours? Now look at you, reduced to babysitting."

"Enough with the nonsense. When’s the next deployment?"

"As for deployments… you’ve arrived just in time."

"Just in time?"

The man laughed as he skillfully reassembled his rifle.

"Today, in fact, in just three hours. We’re headed to support a team on an expedition to North Manchuria."

What a perfect storm… Kim Man-su sighed.

"A rookie’s lucky to be hitting the ground running on his first day."

"An expedition support mission is no joke. How’s a rookie supposed to keep up?"

"Is it a joke, Deputy Commander? I got deployed after just two days."

"Yeah, but you’ve done your military service. This guy’s a rookie with no experience. Today’s just supposed to be about getting him assigned—"

Before Kim Man-su could finish protesting, Yeomyeong interrupted.

"I’ll go."

Kim Man-su’s face twisted in irritation. The middle-aged man, on the other hand, burst out laughing.

"Hahaha! Been a while since we had someone this eager! Yeah, that’s the spirit! If you’re in the mercenary business, you better be ready to jump right in!"

Click. The man finished assembling his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder, and stepped up to face Yeomyeong.

"Rookie, what’s your name?"

"Cheon Yeomyeong."

"Yeomyeong, welcome to Seonjook Mercenary Corps’ Team Three. I’m Tian Lin, your team leader. As for the others’ names…"

Tian Lin glanced around the base camp and shrugged his shoulders.

"If you survive your first deployment, I’ll let you know."

Amid the chuckles of the other mercenaries, Kim Man-su rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.