Taeseong and Haeyoung clashed simultaneously, as though synchronized.
Boom!
The deafening roar that echoed through the room seemed far too intense to have come from mere weapons colliding, causing the walls to tremble. Both Taeseong and Haeyoung shared similar thoughts.
“I expected the administrators to be particularly strong, but this exceeds expectations.”
“I figured a former soldier and returnee would be formidable, but to hold his ground against me wearing Delta-class gear?”
The tense standoff of strength was broken in an instant.
It was Taeseong who deliberately withdrew first.
Using Haeyoung’s force against her, he twisted his stance into a circle, then swiftly struck upward with his blade while creating distance between them. His movements, though rapid, were seamless and fluid.
“Her strength is at least a level—no, two levels above mine.”
His wrists ached already. Despite their brief contest, lasting less than two seconds, Taeseong was certain that matching strength with her was futile.
If he stubbornly resisted, his wrists might shatter before he could make another move.
“But my speed far surpasses hers.”
Through their clash, he instinctively knew.
Haeyoung was inexperienced in combat.
While her physical abilities displayed superhuman performance far beyond any ordinary human, they were just raw power.
Unrefined strength without proper control could often backfire.
“Each of her strikes is devastatingly powerful, but she’s still unpolished.”
In stark contrast, every motion of Taeseong’s body was as natural as flowing water.
It was as though a fish out of water had finally returned to the sea.
Before he could even think, his body reacted. His instincts dictated the next move, the most efficient action, and the optimal path forward in the current situation.
Taeseong was a fish in water.
Bang!
“Ugh.”
A massive noise erupted as Haeyoung was flung into the air.
The spot where she had been standing bore a small but deep footprint, a testament to how much force she had exerted.
“Hyaaaah!”
Letting out a strange battle cry, she plummeted downward, her massive axe aimed directly at Taeseong’s skull, brimming with lethal intent.
Watching this, Taeseong realized.
If that strike landed, he’d die.
No healing, no recovery. Just death.
If he was struck, there’d be no chance for survival. Healing wouldn’t matter because he’d already be dead.
Thus, Taeseong chose to evade.
“Your movements are too exaggerated.”
A simple shift of his weight was enough to sidestep her blow, letting it miss entirely. Frustrated, Haeyoung gritted her teeth and continued swinging her axe furiously.
“Taeseong! Stop dodging like a rat and fight me head-on!”
But Taeseong had no intention of being struck by such reckless swings.
He skillfully kept his distance, staying just out of reach, his movements deliberate and precise.
“You fight so dirty!”
A stream of “compliments” poured from Haeyoung’s mouth.
Whenever there was an opening in her wild attacks, Taeseong countered without hesitation. Over time, small and large wounds accumulated on her body, and soon, she was drenched in her own blood.
“Haa… Haa…”
Haeyoung was visibly exhausted, her breathing heavy, while Taeseong looked as fresh as if he’d just started.
It was only now that his body felt fully warmed up.
“Are you going to keep going?”
Rather than answer, Haeyoung let out a guttural scream and charged at him. Despite her blood loss and injuries, her spirit burned brighter than ever.
Her fiery determination starkly contrasted with her usually gentle demeanor, and Taeseong couldn’t help but admire her internally.
But he had no intention of dragging things out any longer. It was time to end it.
“A few cuts won’t stop her… I’ll probably have to sever both her arms. I’ll make it as clean as possible to ensure they can reattach them without issue.”
It was a chilling thought, though logical given the safety measures and healing facilities she had mentioned earlier.
Despite the gruesomeness of his decision, Taeseong remained resolute.
“Left side, now.”
Evading her axe, Taeseong kicked hard at Haeyoung’s left ankle. Her balance faltered from the unexpected blow, and Taeseong seized the moment.
With practiced ease, he raised his sword.
An invisible energy surged along the blade’s edge.
Some called it aura. Others, sword energy.
Its name didn’t matter.
What mattered was its devastating potential—cutting nearly anything it touched. Instead of pondering what it could slice through, it was better to consider what it couldn’t.
In short, if Taeseong willed it, almost anything could be cleaved.
“Simple enough.”
With supreme focus, Taeseong felt time itself slow to a crawl.
Though only a second had passed, the heightened clarity of his mind made it feel far longer.
Without hesitation, he swung his blade.
Swish!
A clean, decisive motion without wasted effort.
Slash!
A crimson line appeared on both of Haeyoung’s arms before blood sprayed into the air.
Thud.
Her severed arms fell to the floor.
Just as Taeseong had hoped, the cuts were impeccably clean.
Haeyoung collapsed to her knees, looking up at Taeseong. Her wounds continued to bleed profusely, yet she managed to smile weakly as she spoke.
“Taeseong, you’re… really strong.”
“Just luck. More importantly, where are your colleagues? You’re losing too much blood.”
“They… they’ll be here soon, I think…”
Haeyoung’s face was pale, and her body trembled, likely from the cold caused by her blood loss.
“It’s… a strange feeling, you know? Not having arms where they’re supposed to be… Hehe…”
“Stop saying nonsense.”
Taeseong quickly tore off part of his sleeve and began staunching her wounds.
It was a bizarre sight—the one who had inflicted the injury now tending to it. But Tae-sung wasn’t one to dwell on such things.
“…You’re… really kind, Taeseong…” Haeyoung murmured weakly as her consciousness began to fade.
Haeyoung lost consciousness before she could finish her sentence.
Taeseong picked her up and placed her severed arms on her abdomen. Then, he walked toward the center of the room.
Step, step.
Suddenly stopping in his tracks, Taeseong stared into the air and spoke.
“How long do you plan to just watch? Are you waiting for her to die?”
As expected, there was no reply.
Moments later, a medical team and several administrators entered the room. Taeseong submitted without resistance, allowing himself to be cuffed and blindfolded again before being transported back to his original isolation cell.
One administrator glanced at the spot where Taeseong had stood.
“Hey, Assistant Lee! What are you doing over there?”
“…Something seems off.”
“Off? What do you mean?”
“Didn’t the returnee who was just transported seem like he was speaking to us earlier?”
“What? Come on. That must’ve been a coincidence. Why are you overthinking it?”
“…Probably.”
“If he really had the ability to sense spirits, don’t you think he would’ve made it obvious from the start?”
“You’re right… I guess I’m just being paranoid.”
“Exactly. You’ve been cooped up in here too long. Take a break outside or something.”
Taeseong’s gaze had been directed toward where Assistant Lee’s spirit companion was positioned.
Spirits were imperceptible to most people unless they had innate spirit affinity or heightened senses.
“Yeah, it’s probably just my imagination,” Assistant Lee muttered as they left the room.
Two days passed since the combat test, and Haeyoung finally reappeared.
Her usual cheerful demeanor immediately put Taeseong at ease.
“Taeseong! Have you been doing well? You must’ve been bored without me these last two days!”
“I managed. Are you… okay?”
“Of course! I’m super tough, you know!”
“That’s a relief.”
Haeyoung exaggeratedly patted her chest. Despite being known as the top combatant among her peers, her petite frame and youthful appearance made the gesture more adorable than intimidating.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“You’ve worked hard, Taeseong! Now, there’s just one last test, and then you’ll finally be free!”
He now understood the implication behind those words. The final test would determine whether he was deemed safe.
If he passed, freedom awaited.
If not, he wouldn’t just remain in temporary isolation—he would be permanently confined in a true containment facility or quietly disposed of.
‘I won’t let them take me out without even knowing who I am.’
There was no way he would go down without a fight.
“Does that mean the person in charge is finally coming?”
“Yes! And get this—they’re one of only 300 Gamma-level administrators in the entire Korean branch! Isn’t that amazing? A Gamma level! So cool! My dream is to become a high-ranking administrator like them one day!”
“Gamma, Delta… what exactly do these classifications mean? Some kind of code system?”
“Oh, kind of! Basically, it’s a system to categorize both containment subjects and administrators by risk level. It starts at the lowest level, Epsilon, and goes up to Delta, Gamma, Beta, and Alpha. I’ve also heard of special exceptions like Sigma level, but I don’t know much since I’m still a newbie. Hehe.”
“You said it’s based on risk level. Does that mean it reflects combat ability?”
“Not necessarily! Even if a subject’s combat power is low, their risk level could be high due to other factors. It’s a comprehensive evaluation of potential danger, not just raw strength.”
“So, they just vaguely call it ‘risk level’ without clear criteria?”
Hayeong nodded with a sheepish look.
“Yeah, everything about the levels is decided at the top. I heard you need to be at least Gamma level to access that kind of information.”
“I see.”
“Sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“No, you’ve helped plenty.”
Just then, a knock echoed at the door. Haeyoung rushed to open it and greeted the visitor with utmost respect.
The person who entered was a woman with snow-white hair as pristine as eternal ice. Her beauty was so striking that it felt otherworldly, as though she were the embodiment of light itself.
Dumbfounded, Haeyoung belatedly offered her greeting. The woman, however, responded with only a subtle nod before her translucent gaze shifted to Taeseong.
Likewise, Taeseong stared at her.
She exuded an aura so mysterious that the room seemed to drop several degrees in temperature as soon as she entered.
Abruptly, she pulled something out from her possession.
Seeing the object, Taeseong murmured in confusion.
“A… mirror?”
The woman nodded slightly.
Before she could explain, Haeyoung chimed in excitedly, “Taeseong! That mirror has the ability to reveal the essence of things! Looking into it will be your final test!”
“All I have to do is look?”
“Exactly!”
“That’s simple enough.”
A mirror that reveals essence—such a concept belonged in the realm of fiction. But at this point, dismissing it seemed more absurd than believing it.
Taeseong directed his gaze toward the mirror.
At that moment, for the first time, the woman’s lips moved.
“Found you.”
