Chapter 115
Hardline Measures (4)
“Damn it!! What’s going on!!”
“They tell us to wait after calling us here… and now this! Just as expected!”
Amid the growing anxiety over the delayed meeting, someone had even collapsed.
And it was caused by the mysterious barrier surrounding the conference room.
In the chaos, another person cautiously reached out and lightly touched the doorknob.
Zzzzt─!
“Ugh!”
As before, a surge of intense red electricity shot out, flinging the hand backward, which now glowed red-hot.
It felt as if an invisible wall had been placed in front of the door.
“Tch… a barrier, huh.”
“Who would do something like this…!!”
“Who else! Obviously, it’s the Foundation!”
It was clear that someone had deliberately trapped them here.
And that someone could only be the Foundation.
Everyone gathered here were people dissatisfied with the Foundation, after all.
“They must be trying to trap us here and ‘tame’ us in one go.”
“Bastards…!”
“Calm down, everyone.”
A firm voice resonated through the room, gradually calming the escalating tension.
“The author is…”
“Team Leader Choi Seong-cheol.”
Everyone recognized him and focused their attention.
A figure familiar to any Korean player.
Known for his experience and unwavering resolve in major incidents.
Most notably, he was among the survivors of the recent December 3rd emergency summons.
Thud… thud…
Seong-cheol stepped forward to the podium and grabbed the microphone.
Calm and composed, as always.
Unlike the others, his expression showed no fear or anxiety.
“We are indeed trapped here. But let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“Not jump to conclusions? Team Leader Choi, it seems obvious just seeing that we’re trapped here.”
“Then speak, if you think so.”
This time, another person stepped forward—Nam Se-hyeon.
“What reason do you think they’d have to do this?”
“Well…”
The representative started to say that the Foundation wanted to gather all dissatisfied people to control them.
But he immediately stopped mid-sentence.
He realized too late that there was no reason for the Foundation to act like this.
“The Foundation claims to represent the players’ interests, yet you think they would do something like this? The same ones who cornered us with just a policy announcement?”
“…”
“They don’t need such underhanded methods to control us.”
Se-hyeon spoke firmly, which caused a man nearby to slam the desk in frustration.
“Hey! Who the hell are you…?”
“Wait. Don’t you know who he is?”
Someone next to the man grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
“He’s the Pandemonium representative.”
“…The one who launched that business with Taejong?”
Some eyes clearly registered Se-hyeon’s face.
But murmurs continued.
“Why don’t we hear him out first?”
At that moment, Han Seok-jung, former head of Jeonnam’s large community ‘Baekwoon,’ added his voice, finally silencing the room.
The man who had just stood up raised his hand.
“Sure, so far, your point may be valid. But the new branch manager recently appointed is different, isn’t he?”
Most nodded.
The very person responsible for organizing this meeting.
If anyone could pull off such crazy measures, it would be him.
But Se-hyeon shook his head.
“Then let me ask again. What would the branch manager gain from this?”
“…Well, isn’t it obvious? Using us as an example, to control other branches in the same way…”
“No. You must know I had conflicts with the Foundation headquarters. Even considering that, they value legitimacy.”
Se-hyeon’s struggles during the community’s establishment were fairly well-known in Korea.
What this implied was that, even if they acted unfairly, they would follow formal procedures.
‘Sure, behind the scenes, they did use agents to make things difficult, but that was Rachel’s unilateral decision.’
The branch manager wasn’t acting out of personal vendetta.
He was simply enforcing an overly strict policy.
“On the contrary, such a terrorist incident would work against him. He wouldn’t have done this himself.”
If he represented the Foundation’s will, he wouldn’t ignore legitimacy.
If he acted for personal gain, there would be no reason to leave such traces.
Either way, the branch manager had no reason to commit this.
“…Then, who did this?”
It seemed most had accepted that the Foundation and the branch manager had no reason to act.
Now, the question turned to who the real culprit was.
‘…I know.’
Se-hyeon’s gaze shifted to the door.
This barrier was clearly created by an artifact.
He hadn’t made such an artifact, leaving only one possible culprit.
But…
“The important thing isn’t who did it, right? Getting out comes first.”
“True… now isn’t the time for idle talk.”
Se-hyeon deliberately diverted the conversation.
Revealing the culprit now wouldn’t change anything.
It would only cause unnecessary confusion.
‘First, solve the problem in front of us.’
Se-hyeon approached the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.
“Hey, be careful!”
Zzzzt─!
Red electricity wriggled across the knob like a living creature.
Se-hyeon smiled slightly as he felt it.
‘As expected, the barrier.’
In that instant, a memory flashed through his mind.
Silent Formation (무음진).
A chaos-attribute stellar force barrier that absorbed all energy.
Completely isolating inside and out, and absorbing any stellar force from players who touched it.
Player attacks were useless.
Its innate property absorbed stellar energy, so even a powerful assault had no effect.
‘Except for one method.’
Se-hyeon looked at Seong-cheol.
“Seong-cheol, bro.”
“Hm?”
“Bring out the golem arm.”
“…Now?”
He glanced around, conscious of others’ eyes.
“No need to worry now. It’s officially launched.”
“Ah, right.”
Now was the time to show off and make a debut.
This was when the artifact’s true power would shine.
Seong-cheol removed the metal watch from his wrist.
Click─!
Clatter─!
Heavy iron plates wrapped around his arm, transforming into a massive gauntlet.
The iron gauntlet glowed red and steamed.
“Ughhh!”
“W-what is this…!!”
Amid the astonished crowd, Seong-cheol clenched his fist, encasing it in molten energy.
Kraaaaah─!!!!!
[Fiery Surge to the Heavens (火光衝天), Single Point Breakthrough]
The molten energy and steam converged at the fist’s tip.
Bang──!!!
Krazzzzt──!!!
Striking the barrier with the golem arm, the surface warped, twisting the red electricity violently.
Krazzzzt─!
A concentrated point of heat and stellar force.
Seong-cheol didn’t stop and applied even more power.
The barrier could no longer withstand the blow; a crack began to form.
Se-hyeon seized the moment and drew the artifact.
A brilliant white bow: Nak-In’s White Horn Bow (낙인지백각궁).
He pulled the string with all his strength through the weakened gap.
A white arrow formed on the empty string.
PAANG──!!!
KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA──!!!!!
“Ughhh!!!!”
“What is this!!”
Releasing the string, a massive shockwave overturned the conference room.
The arrow, flying with tremendous force, slipped through the barrier’s crack, piercing its core precisely.
Silence fell for a moment.
Crack─ Crackle──
The center began to fracture. With a dazzling flash, the red electricity surrounding the walls shattered and dissipated into the air.
A suffocating pressure lifted; breathing became easier.
The previously isolated stellar force flowed freely.
The barrier had been completely destroyed.
Se-hyeon opened the door, stepping outside.
He retrieved the source the arrow had pierced.
‘So it was this.’
A bronze mirror with eight bells on its octagonal corners.
[Paljigyeong (八咫鏡)]
Its appearance could be mistaken for a divine artifact, but it was still an ordinary artifact.
The early artifacts designed by Hailhwan had this form.
Due to the difficulty of creating mythic items, they were modeled after legendary divine objects.
‘That also makes them easier to destroy.’
No complex compatibility was needed.
Simply striking the core with stellar force would suffice.
However, only an artifact could break it—player attacks alone were ineffective.
“Really… it’s broken.”
Someone muttered in disbelief, approaching the remnants of the barrier.
They tried to touch it but recoiled from the lingering heat and electricity.
“So this is what an artifact is…”
“No wonder Taejong…”
Everyone in the conference room stared at the two men.
Especially at Se-hyeon holding the White Horn Bow, their eyes reflected awe mixed with caution.
Its overwhelming power inspired respect, but also a desire not to be its enemy.
Yet there was no time to dwell on that astonishment.
Brrrrrrrr──
Tring-tring──
Wuuuuuu──
The representatives’ phones rang simultaneously.
-
“Sir! Why are you calling…!”
-
“Damn! Finally connected! It’s bad! Unknown forces are…!”
-
“We’re almost wiped out. Everyone’s combat disabled!”
The voices on the other end conveyed nothing but desperation.
Seong-cheol’s phone rang as well.
The caller was none other than…
“…Rachel?”
-
“Choi Seong-cheol. Are you at the meeting? Get straight to the point; it’s urgent.”
Even the Foundation seemed to be on high alert, chaos audible through the receiver.
“Straight to the point?”
-
“Yes. There’s something you need to check on-site.”
“…Speak.”
-
“Community Hanra—isn’t it there right now?”
“….”
Seong-cheol and Se-hyeon scanned the room.
Indeed, the hosts of this meeting weren’t anywhere to be seen.
“They’re not here.”
-
“As expected.”
His tone was like a final conclusion after long investigation.
No need to ask; it was clear Hanra was behind this incident.
-
“Thanks. That’s all.”
Seong-cheol pocketed the phone and moved.
“Bro, where are you going?”
“Where else? To check on our team.”
“Better make contact first.”
“Hm…”
He calmed himself briefly and picked up the phone again.
Surely Se-hyeon had his reasons for saying what he did.
-
“Team leader? Are you safe?”
“Are you all alright?”
-
“We’re fine. We’re the elite, after all.”
Connie, the dark-haired team member, smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
After confirming the team’s safety, he hung up and looked at Se-hyeon.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“Excuse me? Plan for what?”
“The reason you told me to call was because I’m needed, right?”
“Oh.”
After all these years with me, even seemingly slow Seong-cheol had developed keen awareness.
“Yes. We have a separate destination.”
Se-hyeon’s gaze rested on Han Seok-jung, the master craftsman they had spoken to earlier.
