Infiltration (5)

“See? I told you I could do it.”

Jeon Se-hyuk beamed with satisfaction.

Next to him, Ban Se-yeong, who had been watching the video together, wore a dumbfounded expression.

On the screen was the unmistakable corpse of Jo Hwan-seong.

There was no way Kang-hoo would lie, and if he said he killed him, then it was the truth.

“Wow… He really infiltrated the detention center alone and took out the warden? Is that even possible, Oppa?”

“Are you going to keep denying reality? Kang-hoo confirmed it. Great job. We’ll move immediately. It’s even pouring rain, perfect timing.”

At Jeon Se-hyuk’s words, Kang-hoo slightly opened the steel door to the warden’s office and peeked outside.

— Anyway, the final objective of the main force will be the front gate. I’ll draw as much attention as I can near there.

“You don’t need to overdo it.”

— I won’t. But it looks like there’s plenty of fun to be had.

“Of course. If there’s entertainment to enjoy, you should. Then we’ll depart right away. You’ve done great work.”

— It’s not like this is volunteer work. At this point, I wouldn’t even call it hard work. See you at the detention center soon.

The call ended immediately.

Even after the call ended, Jeon Se-hyuk kept replaying the footage in disbelief.

It had been automatically recorded, so playback was possible.

And what showed in the video was undoubtedly the warden Jo Hwan-seong, whose profile had been meticulously analyzed beforehand.

“…This is insane.”

“He did it all by himself.”

“Right? But Jo Hwan-seong being dead isn’t the end. Now it’s our baton. Get ready.”

“Already done, Oppa.”

“Then let’s move. Time to wipe out every last one of those Eclipse bastards!”

Jeon Se-hyuk shouted, fired up. Ban Se-yeong’s shoulders were trembling with excitement as well.

Who would have imagined that a single assassin could change the tide of war this dramatically?

Even Ban Se-yeong, a close acquaintance, had been half in doubt. Eclipse surely never saw it coming.

“Yes, this is Jeon Se-hyuk. Advance. The warden is dead. Yes, I confirmed it with my own eyes.”

Jeon Se-hyuk immediately contacted the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps and Heuksaja. The prelude to the assault began.

“So this is how horrible he was, huh.”

Meanwhile, Kang-hoo felt a sense of dissonance at the detention center’s lack of reaction to Jo Hwan-seong’s death.

Surely the guards knew the warden was dead.

There must have been flashes from the thunder strike in the office and the sound of the scuffle too.

But not a single guard had come.

Even if the fire in the incineration room was distracting them, it was still strange that no one came to report the situation.

‘Judging by how he designed the warden’s office like a private palace, maybe he hated anyone coming in from the start.’

Just before he infiltrated the office—

Kang-hoo had closely observed everything, using stealth, shadow steps, and a curtain of trickery.

Jo Hwan-seong was domineering and eccentric, with a taste for male lovers.

So he likely didn’t want any “insignificant” people entering his personalized space.

Perhaps the guards, even knowing they needed to report the situation, were too afraid of his wrath to do so.

At that moment—

One guard came running this way, grumbling with a thoroughly contorted face.

Since Kang-hoo was outside the steel door in stealth mode, the guard didn’t even notice his presence.

No one would expect anyone else inside the warden’s office, where the warden usually stayed.

“…….”

Kang-hoo waited quietly.

The guard knocked on the steel door and then entered with a word.

The next moment—

“Huh…?”

The guard was shocked to see Jo Hwan-seong, who should have been sipping whiskey, lying collapsed.

No, he wasn’t collapsed—he was dead, bleeding profusely!

Suicide? No. It was clearly murder. And a brutally inflicted end at that.

A major incident had occurred.

As the guard turned to alert others—

“Khk!”

Something slit his throat cleanly, ending his life. What lay ahead of him now was the afterlife.

“If I just keep waiting, I could probably kill them all like this. This is way too sloppy.”

Kang-hoo let out a hollow chuckle.

Privacy was one thing, but surely they should have been prepared for emergencies.

There wasn’t a single CCTV-related facility in the office.

It was likely a deliberate choice—to avoid leaving records of his depravity.

Taking advantage of the brief moment of peace, Kang-hoo checked the constellation data he had stolen from Jo Hwan-seong earlier.

“A 1v1 specialist, huh. No wonder his strength seemed unnatural… That explains it.”

A constellation that synergized well with Kang-hoo, who also relied heavily on Strength.

Especially useful since he often engaged in one-on-one combat. His blows would now hit harder.

“Oh, so that’s why he charged at me so aggressively. Especially since I’m an assassin likely to use evasion skills.”

Kang-hoo had wondered why Jo Hwan-seong was so on the offensive—this constellation explained it.

The catch was, aside from one quick evasion at the start, Kang-hoo had responded entirely with defensive skills.

Because of that, Jo Hwan-seong hadn’t benefited as much from the Iron-Blooded Archduke effect—yet another variable in the fight.

As expected of a constellation stolen from a fairly capable hunter—it had high value.

Just as Kang-hoo was reveling in the joy of acquisition with a satisfied smile—

WEE-OOO–WEE-OOO–

The full-scale alarm began to blare.

It seemed the joint attack from Jeon Se-hyuk’s group, the Cheong-an Mercenary Corps, and Heuksaja had begun.

This alarm was the signal to mobilize all forces within the detention center—a call for all-out war.

“First things first…”

Kang-hoo prepared to decapitate Jo Hwan-seong’s corpse.

He needed the head to hang in the most visible spot in the center of the detention facility.

Hearing that the commander died before the battle even began would instantly crush morale.

Which meant—there was a much stronger “enemy” than them.

Whether thousands of years ago or today, the importance of leadership in war never changed.

Eventually—

SPLAT!

Jo Hwan-seong’s head was severed.

Thanks to the double-bladed axe he carried, Kang-hoo was able to get a clean cut.

It might have been a grotesque sight for a civilian or someone with a weak stomach.

But Kang-hoo felt only cathartic justice for punishing the worst of the worst. If anything, he regretted not doing it sooner.

At that moment—

CLANK! CLUNK! CLANK! CLUNK!

The sounds of defense mechanisms activating at full capacity rang out from all around.

With power being supplied, just the noise of the systems kicking in was enough to understand the situation.

Up to this point, everything followed the detention center’s manual. But now—an unexpected variable had emerged.

WUUUUNG! WUUNG! WUNG!

WHEEEEEE…

CRACKLE!

Suddenly, the power supply was cut off, and sparks began to erupt in several places as the facilities started to shut down.

It was the signal from the “insider” Jeon Se-hyuk had mentioned earlier.

Until now, the insider had remained hidden but struck Eclipse at the most critical moment.

With this, all the fences and attack facilities surrounding the detention center’s perimeter were neutralized.

For a facility like the detention center that had to fight with both spear and shield, this meant their shield was entirely down.

“Warden! Warden…!”

The urgent cries of a guard rang out.

Having guessed the type of guard who’d come to report, Kang-hoo waited without hiding.

Soon, the moment the guard opened the steel door and met Kang-hoo’s eyes—

“Ah…?”

He saw Jo Hwan-seong’s severed head in Kang-hoo’s hand and instantly realized things had gone terribly wrong.

Still, he had a bit of nerve, drawing the sword from his waist and charging at Kang-hoo.

Since this guard had no known contract with a constellation, Kang-hoo lightly dodged and intentionally let the attack hit.

He was curious to see how well his endurance, which he had steadily built up, would hold against someone of this level.

The result was immediate.

SLASH!

Though the guard’s sword clearly scraped Kang-hoo’s skin, it didn’t draw blood—only left a scratch.

“Huh?”

The guard was flustered.

It had been a full-force strike, but the wound on Kang-hoo was barely a scratch, like being raked by a fingernail.

The guard’s face turned ghostly pale.

With this kind of stat difference, his fate was…

SHAAAA—!

THUD!

…nothing but death. The guard, whose head was cleanly severed, was no longer of this world.

“Overwhelming,”

Kang-hoo murmured the word that came to mind.

This was the very concept of “overwhelming,” the proof of “stat dominance” that hunters came to experience as they grew stronger.

Back when he escaped the detention center, level 50 and 80 guards had seemed unreachable.

But now, they couldn’t even scratch him—mere insects.

The world hadn’t changed much, but Kang-hoo had. Too much had changed.

Fifteen minutes later.

While Kang Dong-hyun was catching his breath during a lull in the fierce battle at the Kimcheon Liberation Area—

He received an urgent message from Cheongmyeong Detention Center.

The remnants of “Black” still resisting in Kimcheon were proving to be stubborn, putting him in a tough spot.

“What? What the hell are you saying?”

After hearing a series of urgent reports from his subordinate, Kang Dong-hyun responded with irritation from the start.

There were too many unbelievable things to accept the message from Cheongmyeong as fact.

He thought it might be fake news created by the remnants of Black.

Having lost more than 90% of their territory, Black would want to divert Eclipse’s attention.

“They say the warden has fallen. And… apparently, his head is now displayed in front of the guard dormitory…”

“What the hell—how does that make any sense?! Hwan-seong is dead before the battle even starts?”

“Well… I think you should see the footage yourself.”

Perhaps sensing the words alone weren’t enough, the subordinate played the field video for Kang Dong-hyun.

It was night and a little dark, but the video was clear enough to make out everything.

And then—

“……”

Kang Dong-hyun saw it.

Jo Hwan-seong’s severed head held high in someone’s hand for all to see.

And the Hunter holding it with the most arrogantly smug expression—

“Shin Kang-hoo?”

A face he had never wanted to see again—Kang-hoo.

That wretched connection had come back to haunt Kang Dong-hyun once more.

But this time, it was a lethal blow.