“I-I absolutely won’t die alone. You’ve r-ruined everything! Coward!”

The Nightmare’s face twisted mercilessly. Bloody tears streamed from both eyes.

Realizing mental attacks would prove futile, the Nightmare made an uncharacteristic choice.

Woong…

Weap*ns materialized in mid-air. A single sword appeared first, but their numbers multiplied with each blink. Soon, countless weap*ns hung suspended, all aimed at the two figures below.

The Nightmare’s intent to turn them into a honeycomb was clear. The final struggle often proves the most terrifying.

“Let’s deal with this first, then talk.”

“Talk now.”

“In this situation?”

“You’ll run away again.”

“I won’t run.”

Ju-eon’s response was firm. Still distrusting, Myung-hwon maintained his grip on Ju-eon’s hand. Their fingers remained intertwined.

“They can’t all be real weap*ns.”

“True.”

The challenge lay in their identical appearance, making it impossible to distinguish the real from the fake. With weap*ns surrounding them from all directions, dodging seemed impossible.

“If you use your power to blow them up, the real weap*ns will explode, not the illusions.”

“We can’t attack in all directions simultaneously while we’re inside.”

It wasn’t a matter of capability, but rather of prudence.

“…I’ve become a burden.”

Alone, Myung-hwon could have detonated an explosion to incinerate all weap*ns, but using that ability would inevitably harm Ju-eon, who lacked resistance to the power.

They needed another strategy. After brief consideration, Ju-eon spoke.

“Myung-hwon, shoot your power into the air just once.”

“Not at the weap*ns?”

“Just shoot it into the air for a few seconds so it doesn’t hit the weap*ns. Like a signal flare.”

“It won’t be visible anyway since we’re in the Nightmare’s domain.”

“Hurry.”

At Ju-eon’s urging, Myung-hwon released his power skyward.

Swoosh.

Boom.

“He-hehe! It c-can’t be seen from outside!”

The Nightmare’s laughter resembled a seizure. Growing weary of their apparent futile efforts, it struck without warning.

“Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!”

The Nightmare’s voice rang with madness. Swords rained down upon them simultaneously. Without hesitation, Ju-eon blocked Myung-hwon’s right side and squeezed his eyes shut. Myung-hwon hadn’t used his power merely for signaling.

‘The only sword that shines sharply is the one reflecting Myung-hwon’s power.’

That was the real sword. Ju-eon braced for pain, but none came.

“Huh?”

Upon opening his eyes slightly, the weap*ns had vanished.

Bang.

A clean gunshot dropped the Nightmare to the ground.

“Where are the… weap*ns…”

He recalled facing away from the Nightmare, yet now he witnessed it struck by Myung-hwon’s power.

With growing suspicion, he looked down to find a sword pierced through Myung-hwon’s stomach.

“Yeo Myung-hwon… what is this.”

Ju-eon’s voice trembled terribly.

“I’d rather die than watch you get hurt.”

Then maybe you can understand a little of how painful it is for me.

Myung-hwon’s smile held a trace of bitterness.

Thunk.

The sword slicing through the air had pierced Myung-hwon’s body.

**

When Kang No-hun arrived, the dungeon entrance remained sealed, barring all entry.

“Shouldn’t we go in quickly for rescue?”

A bold reporter had followed into the restricted area, seeking an interview with Attack Team 1.

Attack Team 1 circled the dungeon repeatedly. Unlike normal dungeons, they couldn’t locate the entrance. The smoke enveloping the hotel repelled anyone who approached. Without even a visible gap, Attack Team 1 struggled to proceed.

“No. How can we enter when there’s no entrance?”

Kang No-hun’s voice carried frustration. They had discovered what appeared to be an entrance once, but it proved to be a trap, redirecting them elsewhere upon entry.

“Does this mean that even Attack Team 1 can’t handle a dungeon that’s appeared in the capital’s downtown?”

Sensing potential sensational news, the reporter pressed more aggressively. While No-hun appeared flustered, Seo Yun-jin patted his shoulder, signaling him to step back.

“Isn’t this area off-limits to civilians? You shouldn’t be here.”

At Yun-jin’s words, No-hun recognized his mistake and retreated behind her, breathing carefully. Even the reporter who had been eyeing No-hun eagerly withdrew at Yun-jin’s cold gaze.

“That’s…”

“We have no obligation to protect civilians here. Since civilians entered illegally.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. Did it sound like a threat?”

Yun-jin widened her eyes, deflecting the accusation with feigned innocence.

“Just now, clearly…!”

“We’re too busy to stay here any longer.”

Deeming further conversation worthless, Yun-jin departed. The reporter huffed in irritation but remained behind.

“Team Leader.”

When Yun-jin called sternly, No-hun, who had answered the reporter’s questions out of frustration, smiled awkwardly and said.

“…Want to be team leader instead, Yun-jin?”

“No. There’s a crack over there?”

Where Yun-jin pointed, a previously invisible crack had appeared.

“Can smoke even crack?”

“Since it’s not ordinary smoke, maybe it can.”

“Is that so?”

“Let’s try attacking here first.”

Yun-jin extended her hand. Electricity crackled in her palm. When she thrust the electricity into the newly formed crack, the smoke began to writhe.

“Get back!”

Sensing danger, Kang No-hun used his ability to push all team members backward. Ji-woo, thrown to the ground by the sudden wind, was about to protest the rough treatment. But before he could, a massive boom tore through the air.

Boom boom boom boom!

Bang!

Bang bang bang!

The smoke scattered skyward. It briefly clung to Yun-jin like a magnet after her attack.

Drawing from years of dungeon experience, Attack Team 1 recognized the need for elimination and seized that brief opportunity.

Tzzzzzt!

“Yun-jin!”

“Yes!”

Long explanations weren’t necessary. Years of partnership had honed their understanding of each other’s attack styles so perfectly that their battle thoughts aligned instantly.

Crackle.

Crash!

The smoke tore, shattered, and dispersed. Within moments, L Hotel materialized. Attack Team 1 entered the Crystal Hall first, prepared for any contingencies.

“Everyone here is not in mortal danger.”

“That’s a relief.”

Kang No-hun, leading the entry, felt reassured by the voice behind him and opened the inner door. A familiar, fishy smell stung his nose. The floor felt sticky beneath his feet.

“Ju-eon…?”

Kang No-hun stared at the figure before him, transfixed. Despite the years passed and the tear-stained appearance, recognition was instant.

“No. Why is Ju-eon… no, how…”

Kang No-hun stumbled over incomplete questions.

“Team Leader. I’ll explain everything later. But…”

Ju-eon pleaded at No-hun’s call.

“Is it really you, Ju-eon? Why is Myung-hwon lying down?”

Only then did No-hun notice Myung-hwon lying across Ju-eon’s lap.

“He took the sword for me. Please save him.”

Ju-eon’s words emerged like a shriek, drawing attention to Myung-hwon’s blood-covered body. The shock paralyzed rational thought.

Even in this state, Myung-hwon maintained his grip on Ju-eon’s clothes.

“Team Leader!”

Seo Yun-jin’s voice approached from behind. Kang No-hun pressed his throbbing forehead.

“I’ll hear the explanation later.”

“…”

“Yun-jin. Call the emergency team urgently first!”

**

Myung-hwon experienced his first deep sleep in ages, though it bordered more on returning from death than actual rest.

He awakened at dawn, when day began breaking.

His thoughts progressed from ‘Why am I in the hospital?’ to the moment before losing consciousness.

Jolt.

Myung-hwon immediately attempted to sit up. Despite the severe pain from the sword wound, he struggled to rise.

“Sometimes I think I should have agreed when you suggested imprinting back then.”

The dawn breeze drifted through a slightly opened window.

“Ju-eon.”

Ju-eon sat motionless by the bedside.

“…Imprinting?”

That word carried multiple meanings. Accustomed to crushed hopes, Myung-hwon questioned rather than accepted these words.

“Back then…”

Myung-hwon spoke cautiously.

“When we were trainees.”

Ju-eon roughly wiped away welling tears with his hand.

Myung-hwon furrowed his brow at these words. Though the journey had been painful and difficult, knowing it led to this moment made even falling into that abyss worthwhile.

“Woo Ju-eon.”

One tiny gesture sufficed. Myung-hwon rubbed his lips in apparent anger.

“Yes.”

“Are you the Woo Ju-eon I know?”

His voice quivered slightly. His expression reflected complex emotions, like someone discovering an oasis in the desert.

Nod.

One nod was enough.