A sharp roar burst from the speakers, the sheer force of Choi Yul’s voice distorting the holographic projection.
“We don’t have the luxury of wasting military assets. If a second wave begins, we need Seo Eui-woo fighting on the front lines.”
“If that’s the case, we can simply issue Captain Seo a deployment order—”
“And you’re certain he’ll obey without Kwon Jae-jin?”
“…”
“What if, instead, while our entire force is deployed, he storms the Center? What if he takes advantage of an empty command hall to slaughter every general in this room? What countermeasure do you have then?”
“…”
“The last battle made it painfully clear. If Seo Eui-woo and Kwon Jae-jin had wanted to turn against us, this headquarters would already be in ruins. But when they had the perfect opportunity to seize the Center, they didn’t. Instead, they went to the battlefield and fought against the Creatures. What more proof do you need?”
Choi Yul exhaled sharply, his expression cold and unreadable.
A bitter wind passed through his chest, hollow and relentless.
His entire life had been devoted to the military—built on discipline, forged through unwavering loyalty.
And now, that foundation was crumbling.
Choi Yul’s gaze had long since drifted beyond the present, beyond the men before him. He had already glimpsed the end of the road he had spent decades walking.
“Humans may die, but humanity will endure… If this is the outcome of choosing the best possible path every time, then we must accept it.”
For now, there was no other option.
They had to give Kwon Jae-jin an official position. They had to use him.
“Time has passed. The era has changed. And we—we’re all just waiting to die. Tch.”
***
“Has that old bastard lost his damn mind?”
The strategy meeting had ended inconclusively, and the holographic projection of Choi Yul had flickered out.
Lieutenant General Hwang Bo Ki-cheon threw his pen down in frustration.
“What kind of absolute bullshit was that? Is he saying he’s sat pretty in that commander’s seat long enough and gotten everything he wanted out of it?”
The generals remaining in the war room exchanged wry smirks.
Hwang Bo Ki-cheon ran his index finger along his temple, rubbing it as if to soothe an oncoming headache.
“Fine. He doesn’t want to stir up unnecessary trouble during his own term. He’d rather look the other way than risk shaking the entire military over one damn hornet’s nest. That way, he can retire with a clean record and slide straight into the political sphere. Probably aiming for a nice little seat in the Ministry of Defense, huh? That’s what he’s really saying here.”
“Sounds about right. Supreme Commander Choi takes a shit, and we’re the ones stuck cleaning it up.”
“So what’s the plan? We just let Seo Eui-woo and Kwon Jae-jin run loose?”
“Tch. No way in hell. That’s not happening.”
The room was filled with hushed murmurs as each general considered their own stance.
The reformist officers, while perhaps dissatisfied with the decision, showed no real will to fight it.
But the conservatives?
They were pissed.
For as long as anyone could remember, the military’s high command had been split into two factions—conservative and reformist.
But the conservatives had always held the advantage.
Even when fierce debates erupted, the outcome was predictable—the conservatives would win.
Because Supreme Commander Choi Yul had always been on their side.
That was why, when the Research and Development Division had secretly warned them about the Creature Wave, the conservatives had dismissed it as insufficient evidence and opted to maintain the status quo.
And now, Choi Yul—the very backbone of their faction—was shifting toward the reformists.
Of course, the conservatives were shaken.
The leader they had trusted was suddenly turning his back on them.
But no one was more blindsided than Lieutenant General Hwang Bo Ki-cheon.
He had never once doubted that he would succeed Choi Yul as Supreme Commander. It was practically set in stone.
But if Choi Yul truly was abandoning the conservative faction, then Hwang Bo Ki-cheon might end up discarded like a used tissue.
Could it be that Central Military Commander Lieutenant General Hyun Woo-jung pulled some strings behind the scenes…?
A power struggle was nothing new. That, he could handle.
The real problem was something else entirely.
Seo Eui-woo. Kwon Jae-jin.
What the hell were they supposed to do with those two?
It didn’t matter whether Hwang Bo Ki-cheon or Hyun Woo-jung took over as the next Supreme Commander.
Neither of them could afford to inherit a contaminated Esper and a mutant.
“The real issue is Seo Eui-woo. Without him, capturing Kwon Jae-jin would be simple enough… After that, we can hand him over to the Research and Development Division.”
Hwang Bo Ki-cheon spoke casually, gauging Hyun Woo-jung’s reaction.
The Central Military Commander chuckled, his tone lighthearted as he disconnected from the call.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right… But for now, let’s wait and see. The Commander has already made his decision. And besides, having one mutant-born S-rank Guide in the military? Now that’s a story. It’s practically a damn drama.”
As Hyun Woo-jung’s hologram flickered out, Hwang Bo Ki-cheon clicked his tongue.
The bastard was clearly washing his hands of the whole situation.
Leaving him to clean up the mess.
“Tch. Unbelievable. Just fucking perfect.”
Once Hyun Woo-jung left, the reformist generals hesitated for a moment—then, one by one, they followed.
Soon, only the conservatives remained.
Hwang Bo Ki-cheon slammed his fist against the table.
Instantly, the lower-ranking generals—major generals and brigadier generals—understood the signal and began speaking up.
“We need to discipline them.”
“Perhaps a military tribunal—”
“You’re suggesting we imprison Captain Seo? And you really think he’d let that happen?”
“No, if we’re going to act, we need to be decisive. We can’t afford half-measures. This situation has already gone too far.”
At that moment, Brigadier General Oh Sung-hwa, seated near the end of the table, subtly raised his brow.
Now this was an opportunity.
If he played his cards right, he could earn Hwang Bo Ki-cheon’s favor.
“Instead of all that,” Oh Sung-hwa began, leaning forward, “wouldn’t it be far more convenient if this was handled as an accident?”
All eyes turned to him.
Oh Sung-hwa had been responsible for overseeing Kwon Jae-jin’s reconnaissance unit. He had also been in charge of the capture mission.
And both had ended in complete failure.
For a while, he had been forced to keep his mouth shut and lay low.
But if he wanted to rise again, this was his moment.
There was no way in hell he was going to end his career as a mere one-star general.
Sure, he didn’t have what it took to reach Supreme Commander.
But two stars? Major General?
That was still within his grasp.
“If Captain Seo were to die inside the Gate, that would be the ideal outcome… Wouldn’t you all agree?”
“Die… in action?”
“Exactly. If the predictions hold true, the second wave of the Creature Wave will begin soon. And when that happens, Captain Seo will have to be deployed. A combat-class Awakener dying in battle? That’s nothing unusual. The current unrest will settle on its own soon enough.”
Brigadier General Oh Sung-hwa lowered his voice, playing his hand carefully.
“In war, all sorts of tragedies occur.” His tone was quiet, measured. “If the Research and Development Division’s predictions are correct and we end up facing an A-Class Creature, there will be many casualties. No one will question an additional death among them.”
“Hmm…”
“I’ll wait until the battle is nearing its end—until Captain Seo has exhausted his abilities and is too drained to fight back. That’s when I’ll strike his core. It’s doable.”
In the chaos of battle, it would be nearly impossible to distinguish whether Seo Eui-woo had been killed by a Creature or fallen to friendly fire.
“Yes, exactly. Once Seo Eui-woo is eliminated, we can shape Kwon Jae-jin however we see fit.”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“I see. It’s not a bad plan… But can you pull it off, Oh Sung-hwa?”
“If you entrust this mission to me, I’ll see to it that everything is handled seamlessly.”
“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time? Every time, you make a lot of noise but never deliver any results.”
“This time will be different, Lieutenant General. I swear it. Just trust me once.”
“You understand this is an ultra-classified mission. If you’re discovered, even I won’t be able to cover for you. Are you absolutely confident you can do this without getting caught?”
“Yes, sir. For the sake of security, rather than utilizing an official Special Operations team, I’ll select a small, discreet unit from the personal security detail. That way, we can execute the operation cleanly and leave no loose ends.”
“Hah… Fine, then. I’ll give you one last chance, Oh Sung-hwa. Go ahead and hunt down the hornet. But this will be the last time I watch you fail.”
Under the table, Oh Sung-hwa clenched his fist.
It’s done.
He had managed to grab hold of the ladder he had nearly lost.
No—this wasn’t just a ladder. It was a lifeline.
A frayed, half-rotten rope, perhaps—but still, something that stretched upward.
“Yes, sir! Thank you for giving me another opportunity!”
As he raised his hand in a sharp salute, his fingers trembled ever so slightly.
