Chapter 6 ….
‘This slippery little bastard.’
That’s what Hong Jaegyeol thought.
But he couldn’t deny the truth.
That the sketch was accurate.
And that this kid, Pisowon, never spoke nonsense.
“What about the bomb?”
“The disposal team successfully defused it. They’re analyzing it now.”
“The criminal?”
“He’ll receive medical treatment, then we start questioning. He’ll never be able to use his hand again, though.”
At that, Chief Hong narrowed his eyes.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? With your skill, you could’ve just shot one finger. But you deliberately…”
Blasting his entire hand off—clearly intentional.
And most likely, the reason was obvious:
‘Because he didn’t want to lose another partner.’
“Our team’s rookie is fine. Report’s over.”
Pisowon cut Hong off before he could say more.
But Hong simply let out a small, amused laugh and didn’t ask further.
Instead, he stared down at a personnel file in front of him.
The photo of a young-looking woman: Lee Yoo-ji.
“Former national reserve taekwondo athlete in high school…”
He had also reviewed the CCTV footage.
The F-rank rookie taking down a D-rank terrorist with a single kick.
Yes, she lost afterward once it became a contest of pure strength—
but that didn’t matter.
Even that was insane control.
There were rare types like this.
People whose stats, measured by devices and systems, were obviously low—
but who controlled their power so precisely that they produced results far above their numbers.
Hong recalled what the HR team told him during her hiring evaluation:
“Detective Lee Yoo-ji is perfect for Team 5, but… it’s a bit of a waste.”
“Waste? How?”
“Based on stats alone, she should’ve failed the physical test. But she passed—barely. Probably because she’s ex-national team. Her control is on a different level.”
And that sentence carried an unspoken addition:
Like someone else.
And that “someone” was standing right in front of him.
With a grin, Chief Hong said:
“Looks like this partner might last a long time, Detective Pisowon.”
Pisowon’s eyebrow twitched.
“Team Five finally pulled off a real case. How many years has it been?”
Hong chuckled, pleased with himself.
But beneath his desk, a mechanical spider-shaped bug was crawling—
relaying everything to someone else.
* * *
“The rookie detective ruined Grandpa’s plan completely.”
Hearing the audio fed through the bug, a man smirked.
His name: Choi Woo-jin.
His other name: The Gamer.
He had secretly interfered in National Crime Response Agency operations for years—helping them.
But all he gained was infamy.
Because he treated everything like a game, people called him “Gamer”
and labeled him a high-level criminal.
Not that he cared.
It was more like—
“Idiots who don’t know how to use what’s given to them.”
That was all he thought.
“If it weren’t for that woman Lee Yoo-ji, they’d all be dead.”
With that, he manipulated one of his many monitors inside his Black Room.
A CCTV feed of the chief’s office appeared.
Chief Hong sat alone, reading Lee Yoo-ji’s recruitment file.
“Will she be Team 5’s treasure… or its headache…”
Listening to the muttered words, Choi Woo-jin zoomed in on the file.
He read slowly.
“Lee Yoo-ji. Specialty: former national taekwondo team.”
Something flickered across his face.
“…Taekwondo, huh?”
His thin lips curled upward.
Like he’d found new prey.
Or maybe—
Like he’d just found an old friend.
He turned away from the file and pulled up Team 5’s CCTV feeds.
He had long since taken control of the entire building’s cameras.
Eyes that see everything.
A presence everywhere—and nowhere.
That was the strange skill he gained after regression.
He found the footage of Yoo-ji kicking down the terrorist
and downloaded it immediately.
Then he began editing.
He added a title:
mark
Shocking! D-rank Terrorist Sneaks into NCR Agency Building!
F-rank Civil Servant and Former National Taekwondo Athlete Takes Him Down with a Kick!
Within days, it would hit three million views.
He sent the video to a well-known streaming YouTuber,
along with a large amount of money.
And a single instruction: Do not reveal the source.
Trashy cyber-drama YouTubers were always useful;
they’d do anything for cash.
Choi Woo-jin was the type to use whatever means necessary.
And this time, his goal was simple:
To make the terrorists who dared attack the agency feel even a fraction of fear.
Not that his grandfather, Choi Joong-goo, the true mastermind, would flinch.
But the minions below him?
They would panic.
There were plenty involved in this operation.
“Grandpa’s going to be annoyed soon.”
Woo-jin grinned.
He kept working, fingers moving rapidly across keyboards.
Soon, a monitor switched to show a man in handcuffs being transferred.
The man who should have died in the explosion.
Owner of the Black Market.
A man with an pocket-dimension skill, who hid all kinds of contraband inside his own body.
[…This guy’s pocket-space skill is disgusting.]
The special-ops officers guarding his prisoner transport complained.
Among the seized items was a small fox keychain.
Woo-jin’s mechanical spider approached it.
[So… blood sausage soup for lunch?]
[Ugh. After all that crap today? Let’s eat something else. I almost threw up searching this guy.]
As they chatted, the spider quietly hooked its 13th leg onto the fox keychain—
and carried it away.
The officers never noticed, too busy arguing about food.
Civil servants. Lazy when it’s easy, sloppy when it’s important. Annoying either way.
Woo-jin watched his spider escape from the transport vehicle
and leaned back, closing his eyes like they hurt.
“Lee Yoo-ji… Lee Yoo-ji…”
He repeated the name.
Like the answer was hidden inside it.
If the NCR agents weren’t so stupid,
this terrorist never would’ve infiltrated the building.
And yet, the only reason the bombing was stopped—
was because of Lee Yoo-ji.
Ironically funny.
And the fact that this rookie, of all people, stopped it—
and that her name was Lee Yoo-ji—
that bothered him.
Because he had heard that name once, faintly, in his previous life.
Memories surged—
but only for a moment.
His eyes snapped open.
A familiar madness swirled in them.
“Time to go enjoy the next game.”
There was no hesitation in his voice.
His goal was now singular:
Use that fox keychain
to begin the next game.
