Chapter 58

Beomjin steadied his breath and stared into the dark.

Right now… what we have to do is…

He turned and stepped deeper into the mine.

Recover the Flute of Ten Thousand Waves.

But a low, firm voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

I-rang blocked his path.

“Those two who just passed… they’re the ones who hurt Risa, right?”

Beomjin didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The murderous light in I-rang’s eyes made his intentions clear. Silence was answer enough.

Beomjin tried to hold him back.

“I know what you’re thinking. But the flute comes first. Risa wouldn’t want us to lose it.”

“…Revenge comes first for me.”

I-rang didn’t bend. He wasn’t here to take orders.

“I’ll do what I have to do.”

He turned his back. Seoyul reached out to stop him, unsure what to do—but Beomjin placed a hand in front of her.

“…He won’t listen. Let him go.”

“But—”

“He has his fight. We have ours.”

Seoyul balled her small hand into a fist, then called quietly after him:

“I-rang ahjusshi… don’t die.”

“Don’t worry.”

He answered without looking back, slipping out toward the exit. Silence lingered, broken only by flickering light overhead. Seoyul pressed close to Beomjin again.

“We need to go deeper. …Can you handle it?”

Seoyul inhaled deeply. Her lips trembled—but she nodded.

“Let’s move. Slowly. Quietly.”

They crept forward. The mine’s darkness swallowed their footsteps piece by piece. Damp air and dust clung to their throats, faint lights skimming the walls.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” Seoyul whispered.

“This isn’t just a hideout. It’s a base of operations for the Wolf-Blooded Order.”

Rounding a sharp bend, a larger chamber opened before them. Rusted equipment littered the tracks, torn punching bags sagged in the corners, and cracks on the walls showed where fists had struck again and again.

“A training ground… and one used for real combat.”

Beyond that—a hallway lined with narrow bunk rooms. Metal bunks with crumpled blankets, drawers with dried blood-stained bandages, air thick with old sweat and iron.

Seoyul paused. Her gaze pulled toward a kitchen area— a dead stove smeared with grease, a pot crusted with dried broth.

Someone had been here very recently.

“Wow… even a kitchen. They really live down here.”

Through the living quarters they advanced, deeper still. Lights and exposed wires dotted the walls until a large steel door blocked the path.

As they drew near, the scent of Beast-Blooded grew thick and heavy.

“Be careful. Their scent is strong.”

“It’s awful,” Seoyul murmured.

With a thin smile, Beomjin twisted the handle. Voices bled through the crack. Laughter—casual conversation.

The room inside was unexpectedly warm and lived-in.

Dusty couches scattered without care, half-eaten ramen packs and a half-empty thermos on a folding table, cups used as ashtrays, shirts tossed like shields over sofa backs.

A large monitor on the wall played a light-hearted variety show, comedy laughter echoing unnervingly through the mine.

“Mister, look…”

Seoyul pointed.

Three Beast-Blooded slouched on the sofa, laughing at the show.

Beomjin motioned toward the opposite side—they began slipping silently along the wall—

—but the man in the middle stood, grabbing an empty cup. His leg caught the sofa and he stumbled—eyes locking with Seoyul’s.

“Intruders!”

The sofa flipped as all three turned.

First—a dog-blooded man with the cup. Then a rooster-blooded man. And a rat-blooded man right behind him.

Beomjin stepped back and shielded Seoyul.

“Don’t leave my back.”

She nodded hard.

The dog-blooded one hurled the cup. Beomjin slapped it aside—and the dog pounced.

Beomjin grabbed his collar and yanked him in—but the rooster-blooded man jumped up and cinched a chokehold. The rat-blooded fighter tackled his legs.

Three-on-one—pulling him into a street-brawl scramble.

Normally, Beomjin would’ve dropped them like toys. But these weren’t amateurs. The Wolf-Blooded Order trained their recruits well—stronger, more savage than ordinary Beast-Blooded.

Seoyul pushed herself up from her hiding spot. Driven by pure courage, she seized a frying pan—and swung at the rooster-blooded man clinging to Beomjin’s arm.

CLANG!

“GRAH!”

He stumbled back clutching his face—a broken tooth skittering across the floor. Seoyul gasped, startled by her own strength.

“You—filthy snake!”

Screaming, the rooster-blooded man drew a knife—charging straight at Seoyul.

“Kyaaah!”

She bolted—he chased.

“What the hell is this commotion?!”

Three silhouettes burst from a doorway deeper inside.

A woman stood between two men—face furrowed with rage, black tactical goggles hiding her eyes.

She was Oh Ha-na, administrator of the Daegu stronghold—and a high-ranking officer of the Wolf-Blooded Order.

Early thirties, sharp jawline, presence like sharpened steel.

When she spotted Beomjin—her fury exploded.

“And what exactly are these things? Why are they here? Who let them inside?!”

Her voice scraped the mine like metal against stone. Beomjin lifted his head and met her gaze. Ha-na held the Flute of Ten Thousand Waves tightly in her hand.

“Give me that flute. It doesn’t belong in your hands.”

Ha-na faltered for a beat at his bold tone. Her eyes widened behind the goggles; she slowly pushed them up.

Half her face revealed, goggles’ marks stamped across her skin.

“…You? The tiger?” Her voice was low, shot through with shock. “You’re the tiger that killed our precious Ryu Baek?”

She handed the flute to the Beast-Blooded standing beside her and grinned like a victor.

“You came just in time. Walked right into your death. You’re really done for.”

Ha-na slipped her hand into the pocket of her white coat and pulled out several remotes.

She turned them, and metal whirring answered from cracks in the wall. Two drones rose in a flash while small turrets popped out along the ceiling and walls.

As the two small drones locked laser sights on him, the turrets swivelled.

“Don’t even think about surviving this,” Ha-na snapped.

At her gesture, the drones took flight. Thin green lasers tracked Beomjin, and the turrets opened fire.

Rat-a-tat-tat!!

Beomjin twisted and rolled, trying to find cover. The drones pursued, and the turrets kept spitting metal rounds. Sparks showered as rounds struck the walls, and fragments scored lines across Beomjin’s arms.

He bit down, overturned a table for cover, and slipped behind a pillar—but Ha-na sneered as if she’d predicted every move.

“How long do you think you can keep ducking? This is Ryu Baek’s revenge!!”

Ha-na, drunk on fury, steered the drones with manic eyes. The two Beast-Blooded at her side formed a human wall.

If he charged her now, he’d be riddled with buckshot. While Beomjin weighed his options, he saw Seoyul struggling—caught by the rooster-blooded man.

She had fallen; the rooster-blooded fighter was standing on her.

“Seoyul!”

Beomjin lunged, but the lasers locked on him and rounds screamed his way.

The rooster’s knife rose toward Seoyul.

The blade tip flashed inches away—time seemed to slow.

“Kyah!!”

Seoyul flung her arms up reflexively. Panic flooded her nerves; a prickling electricity ran from her scalp to her fingertips.

Crack… sizzle!!

Blue light flashed at her fingertips.

Then—

BOOM!!

Lightning erupted like an explosion.

The bolt struck the blade, ran along the metal, and pierced the rooster-blooded man through.

“Gyaaah!!”

He twisted and howled.

Seoyul’s eyes went wide; her lips trembled.

When the rooster collapsed, the lightning branching from Seoyul’s hands struck the mine’s interior. It jumped along exposed wiring and into the drones, causing massive short-circuits.

Lights flickered out, plunging the room into sudden darkness. Explosions—pop! pop!—rippled around the chamber as overheated drones and turrets blew apart, smoke rising in their wake.

Within seconds, silence swallowed the mine.

“What the—what the hell is this?!”

Ha-na’s voice shook with panic. She hammered the remote’s buttons, but nothing answered. The Beast-Blooded at her side froze, stunned by the unfamiliar quiet; Beomjin could hear their hearts pounding like trapped drums.

Footsteps—steady, measured—filled the black like a calm tide.

“What is that—?” Ha-na shrieked, voice trembling with fear at the sound.

“It’s over.”

Beomjin appeared in front of Ha-na like a ghost—silent, unwavering. His eyes held no mercy.

With the opponents crippled by the blackout and surge, he subdued Ha-na and the two Beast-Blooded effortlessly. In the chaos, the Flute of Ten Thousand Waves returned to his grip.

“Ahjusshi!”

Seoyul called out into the dark, and his voice answered softly.

“It’s over, Seoyul. You did well. It’s thanks to you we got the flute back.”

A shaky breath escaped her; she lifted her head from the shadows.

“I… I really helped…?”

Beomjin raised a hand and gently tapped her shoulder.

“Yes. You did. You handled it perfectly.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. She nodded, overwhelmed.

“R-Really?”

“You shot lightning out of your hands. Must’ve been terrifying. But you controlled it.”

Seoyul’s grin grew, proud and relieved.

“Then… we go back to Risa unnie now, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of this suffocating hole. Stay close.”

Together, they climbed toward the faint entrance light. Morning sun finally greeted them, washing away the mine’s stale darkness. Every breath of clean air reminded them: they had survived.

“But… will I-rang ahjusshi be okay?”

Beomjin glanced ahead. Near the rusted gate, I-rang sat with his legs stretched out—silent, motionless.

Seoyul rushed to him.

His body was covered in cuts and bruises; the raw scent of battle clung to him. I-rang looked up, face blank.

“You retrieved the flute.”

His tone stayed cold, yet relief hid between the words.

Beomjin stopped in front of him.

“And the result?”

I-rang’s jaw tightened. He turned his head aside.

“Only half done.”

“Huh… half?” Seoyul asked, voice wavering.

“One of them escaped,” I-rang replied flatly. “Too damn fast.”

“That’s not a failure,” Beomjin said.

I-rang stared for a beat… then nodded.

“Right. It’s just not finished yet.”

“We should go back. Risa unnie is waiting!” Seoyul insisted, refusing to hide her anxiety.

Both men couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah. Risa’s expecting us.”

Beomjin reached down; I-rang took his hand and pushed himself upright. Seoyul hovered nearby, scanning the area as if danger still lurked.

“So… is it finally over?” she asked.

Beomjin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gazed toward the mountains beyond the mine—sun pouring silently over the treeline.

“…No. This might just be the beginning.”

“The beginning…?”

His eyes narrowed, sharp with certainty.

“Getting the flute back was only a key. The real door… is about to open.”

Seoyul swallowed, nerves sparking under her skin.

Burnt metal. Dead power lines. The scent of ozone crackling through the air. The ruins of the mine—still shuddering with the memory of lightning.

And ahead—

Something far larger already stirring.

Beomjin took the first step toward the road. Seoyul followed. I-rang too.

The next fight had already chosen them.