The raid party halted at the boundary of the second sector, where the clean subway tiling gave way to raw, glistening black stone. Sang-woo sat on a folding stool his hires had carried in, nursing a sports drink while Min-ah carefully wiped a spot of monster soot from his white cloak.
"You missed the primary aggro window by a full second, Jun-ho," Sang-woo called out, his voice echoing off the damp rock. He didn’t look up from his drink. "If my fire spell had gone wide because you were rolling around on the tracks, that’s out of your pocket. Remember that."
"I’ll be faster next time," Jun-ho said. He kept his head low, sitting on an overturned plastic milk crate near the edge of the tunnel light.
He had his cracked vanguard shield balanced on his knees. To anyone else, he looked like a beaten dog resting before the next whipping. But under the scratched iron plate, his right hand was perfectly steady. The internal ocean of mana inside his chest was completely still, hiding the monstrous power he had carved into his soul.
"Hey."
A shadow fell over his boots.
Jun-ho looked up. Eun-bi was standing over him, her clipboard tucked under her arm. Her medical scrubs were damp at the hem from the tunnel water, and her face was set in a hard, unreadable line. She didn’t look at Sang-woo or Min-ah; her eyes were locked onto Jun-ho’s right sleeve, where the fabric was slightly frayed from his elbow smashing the train rail.
"Walk with me," she said, her voice dropping into a quiet, sharp whisper. "I need help moving the heavy plasma boxes from the backup cart. The tracks are uneven up ahead."
From the center of the camp, Min-ah glanced over, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Don’t take too long, Jun-ho. We move in five minutes. You need your stamina back."
"I’ll be quick," Jun-ho said, standing up.
He followed Eun-bi back down the dark tunnel, away from the flickering yellow safety lights of the camp. The air grew colder the further they walked, smelling less like monsters and more like old mud. Eun-bi didn’t stop until they were completely out of sight of the group, behind a massive concrete support pillar.
She turned around sharply, her sneakers squeaking on the wet gravel. She didn’t look at his shield. She looked right into his eyes.
"What kind of vanguard breaks a solid steel train rail with their bare elbow without breaking a single skin cell?" she asked, her voice tight, hushed, and dangerous.
Jun-ho didn’t blink. "I slipped. The rail must have been old. Rust damage."
"Don’t give me that garbage," Eun-bi snapped, stepping closer until she could smell the stale coffee on his breath. She reached down and grabbed his right forearm, pulling his sleeve up. Her fingers were cold, but her grip was surprisingly firm for a paramedic.
"Look at this. No swelling. No bruising. Not even a red mark. I’ve spent three years patching up Tier 1 meat shields who got crushed by tunnel crawlers. When they slip and hit steel, their bones turn into gravel."
Jun-ho stayed silent, letting her hold his arm. He could feel her pulse racing—she was terrified of him, but her stubborn anger was stronger than her fear.
"I saw the shockwave, Jun-ho," she whispered, her eyes wide in the dark. "The energy didn’t come from the monster. It came from you. You let that thing hit you, you absorbed the force, and then you dumped it into the ground so those two idiots up there wouldn’t notice. Why are you hiding it?"
Jun-ho slowly pulled his arm back out of her grip. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, leaning his back against the cold concrete pillar. In the distance, he could hear the faint, arrogant murmur of Sang-woo’s voice.
"If they know I’m strong," Jun-ho said, his voice dropping into a low, natural register that made Eun-bi’s shoulders tense, "they change the plan."
Eun-bi stared at him, her mouth opening slightly before she cut herself off. She looked down the dark tunnel toward the camp, then back to him. "The plan? You mean the raid?"
"I mean Sunday," Jun-ho said, a faint, dark smile touching the edge of his mouth. "They have a specific script they want to run in the boss room. Min-ah needs a sacrifice to look good for the Sun God Guild. Sang-woo needs to clear the line so he can take the core. If I look like a Tier 5 hunter right now, they’ll run away. They’ll hire someone else. They’ll delay it."
The silence between them grew heavy. The only sound was the steady drip-drip of water from the ceiling hitting a rusty pipe.
Eun-bi’s clipboard shook slightly. She wasn’t stupid. She had seen enough guild politics to know how small-time hunters were chewed up and spat out by wealthy legacy kids. But she hadn’t expected the prey to be a monster in disguise.
"You’re insane," she whispered, though there was no disgust in her voice—just a strange, breathless awe. "You regressed? Or did you awaken a hidden trait?"
"Does it matter?" Jun-ho asked, looking her dead in the eyes. "On Sunday, when those heavy doors close, they are going to lock me in with that hound. They think they are leaving a dead man behind."
Eun-bi looked at his calm, steady face, and suddenly, a sharp, uncharacteristic chuckle burst out of her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with a dark, dry humor.
"A dead man," she muttered through her fingers, her eyes glinting in the shadow. "They think you’re the speed bump. Oh, god. Sang-woo is going to wet his expensive silk pants."
"Probably," Jun-ho agreed, his own face loosening just a fraction.
Eun-bi stopped laughing, her face turning serious again. She reached into her medical apron, pulled out another crumpled packet of glucose candy, and threw it at his chest. Jun-ho caught it automatically.
"If you die out there and ruin my clean extraction record, I will find your soul and stab you with my trauma shears," she said, turning her back to him and grabbing the handles of her supply cart. "But if you’re going to break their faces... make sure you don’t leave any witnesses from the Ministry looking over my shoulder."
"Deal," Jun-ho said.
"Hey! Jun-ho! come here, Get your ass back here quickly!" Sang-woo’s shout drifted down the tunnel, sharp and impatient. "The red fog is moving! Break is over!"
Eun-bi didn’t look back as she pushed her cart back into the light. "Go on, meat shield," she called out over her shoulder, her tone returning to its regular, grumpy public-sector whine. "Don’t keep the talent waiting."
Jun-ho peeled the orange wrapper with his teeth, feeling the sour sugar hit his tongue as he walked back toward the light.
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