SWIPE.
He opened the Coreborn Driver app and ordered a cab—nothing fancy, just something bigger than usual.
Something with legroom. His limbs were too heavy to be folded right now, and the ache in his back wouldn't let him rest properly on a train seat. A black SUV rolled up within minutes, the kind you'd expect a squad of elite Coreborns to step out of, not some half-dead teenager wearing a ripped hoodie and a faint smear of dried blood.
The door shut behind him with a satisfying thump.
No music played. No chatter from the driver. Just the quiet hum of tires rolling over asphalt and the soft ticking of the dashboard clock.
Jaemin leaned back, head resting against the cold glass of the window.
His thoughts were loud.
Not about Hwang Seungho. Not about Rae-ah or the squad.
No.
He was thinking about Seraphor.
More specifically, why couldn't he override him?
Too little time.
"The rift began collapsing the moment the bastard dropped."
And that was rare.
He exhaled through his nose, annoyed.
Still... it wasn't a total waste.
He did come out with a few souvenirs.
FWIUP-PING!
A small pulse from his inventory.
A dull cyan glow hovered in the air before materialising into text.
[Item Acquired: Scared Hymn of Eternal Frost]
[Item Type: Dagger]
[Class: 2]
[Originally wielded by the High Priest of the Frozen Wilds, this dagger was forged using ice crystals tainted with dark hymns chanted in silence by the Cytharis. Born of frozen divinity, it holds residual intent—a whisper of ritual, buried beneath frost.]
[Effects:]
[Attack increased by 32%.]
[When health drops below 50%, Hymns of Eternity is activated.]
[Hymns of Eternity: [Passive Trigger]]
[Every physical strike sends a burst of frost shards outward, dealing AOE damage in a 4-meter radius.]
Jaemin looked at the blade in his hand.
It was small. Elegant. Too delicate for something that once belonged to a frost-fueled high priest.
Its edge was clean, almost ceremonial. When he tilted it, frost ran along the blade like veins beneath skin.
"...You're strong."
Jaemin muttered to himself.
"But not yours anymore."
His fingers hovered briefly over his other prize—the longsword.
It was heavy. Long. And cracked.
He'd taken it more out of habit than desire. A weapon looted from a boss always had potential. But this?
It was more like a relic now. Strong once, yes, but no match for the dagger. Not even close.
He sighed and mentally shoved the longsword deeper into his inventory.
Storage Folder: 'Trophy Trash—Do Not Use'.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Done.
The car hit a slight bump, jerking him forward. He blinked, pulled from the spiral of thoughts.
Streetlights were passing by faster now. They were nearing the city.
He wasn't thinking about home. He wasn't even thinking about sleep.
"Hmmm."
The car slowed. Bright white headlights swept the building numbers, then stopped—his apartment.
No lights. No rituals. He dropped his jacket by the door, kicked off his boots in a lazy arc, and walked into the bedroom like a corpse seeking dirt.
His head hit the pillow.
Eyes shut instantly.
He knew he'd only get a few hours of sleep—his raid with Taeha was about to end soon. Still, he had something. A new skill. After levelling up in the Dysgenesis Rift, his level jumped straight to 62. Now, he was about to see just how useful this skill could be.
****
It was early.
Too early for anyone normal.
But Jaemin wasn't normal, and his mornings had long since stopped caring about what "early" meant.
He stood outside his apartment, eyes half-shut, jacket barely clinging to his shoulders like even it was too sleepy to bother. The concrete underfoot was still wet from a night frost that hadn't melted. He exhaled. No steam. The cold was too familiar now.
Then—SCREECH!
A jet black van skidded to a confident halt in front of him, tyres screeching like some overdramatic K-drama entrance.
The door slid open.
Jaemin stepped in wordlessly, slumped into the passenger seat, seatbelt clacking lazily into place.
"WOAH! HYUNG!!"
Taeha's voice cracked from the driver's seat like a bottle of soda just got shaken and popped.
Jaemin blinked, barely amused.
"What prompted you to say 'whoa' this early in the morning?"
Taeha turned around with a grin so wide it nearly smacked the steering wheel.
"It's been a while since I saw you, so seeing you suddenly just made me go WOAHHH!"
Jaemin scoffed, head thudding lightly against the headrest.
He's a weird kid.
Still, he didn't hate it.
The van started moving, pulling into quiet morning traffic.
"So Hyung-nim."
Taeha chirped, glancing between the rearview and the road.
"We're finishing up our last few raids now, right?"
"Yeah."
That was all Jaemin gave.
Because his mind… was elsewhere.
The Dysgenesis Rift still lingered in his thoughts. Not the gore, not the frost, not even Seraphor.
Something else.
"Every time I called them… they came."
"Warden. Ink. Even the Arcanists, Behemoth…"
Whether he summoned them by name or not, they showed up. Always.
Like loyal shadows waiting for the flick of his hand.
Except one.
One never answered. Not once.
The Unholy Maiden.
She had been one of the earliest.
A Revenant. Intelligent. Quiet. Elegant. Strong.
And yet—
Nothing.
No echo. No aura. Not even a ripple.
Just radio silence.
Why?
"With her class... she should've been a game-changer."
"Had the Maiden joined the fight against Seraphor, it would've ended in moments."
"But she didn't appear. Not once."
A frown formed on Jaemin's face.
"I didn't dismiss her. I didn't limit her. She simply wasn't there."
Was she sealed?
Gone?
Was it a flaw in the Core Override system?
Or... something else entirely?
Taeha kept talking in the background—something about food or how strong he'd gotten—but Jaemin's thoughts stayed locked on one thing.
The Maiden didn't come.
****
The van pulled up.
Click!
Jaemin stepped out without a word. The recruits were already lined up, some nodding, others smiling like they were meeting idols. But Jaemin didn't even glance.
"They're not smiling for us. Just the payout."
He scoffed under his breath and adjusted his jacket.
Taeha, still cheerful, slapped a few backs, waved, and jogged ahead. Jaemin walked quietly, eyes half-lidded, focused only on the pulsing Rift gate ahead.
"Another rift. Another run. Another chance to ignore what I don't understand."
"The Unholy Maiden... why the silence?"
No matter how many times he asked, there was no answer.
The Rift shimmered open like a black wound in the air.
And they disappeared into it.
****
THUMP!
WOOSH!
KRA-KOOM!
The training grounds of Covenant: Iron Judgement looked like a warzone.
Metal dummies? Destroyed.
Target panels? Vaporized.
Low-grade Abyssals, captured and used as sparring fodder? Tossed like ragdolls, their yelps lost in the explosions of aura that shook the air.
In the middle of this chaos stood Kang Daesang.
Chest bare, sweat gleaming on his skin, veins glowing faint silver under his skin. His metallic aura danced around him like flames made of mercury.
He wasn't just training.
He was boiling from the inside.
How did a Precision Core like him survive?
FWOOOSH!
A 40-kg metal scrap dissolved into glowing dust with a flick of his palm.
"He has to be a seasoned Coreborn. He has to be!"
POW!
Another dummy turned to shrapnel.
"And he doesn't even have a Covenant? What a joke..."
KABOOM!
He slammed his fist into the reinforced ground, cracking the titanium slabs like porcelain.
The entire arena trembled.
If he'd used even a tenth more strength, he'd have cratered the whole training zone.
"I NEED to get him..."
His fists trembled slightly — not from fear, but from raw, restrained hunger.
Then:
"A-Acting Commander, you called for me???"
Hajun stood at the edge of the destruction. His boots crunched over broken metal and fried wires, face pale as snow.
Kang Daesang stood tall, wiping his face with the back of his forearm, silver aura dissipating.
"...I did."
His tone? Calm now. Too calm.
"Any intel on Mr. Han?"
Gulp.
"Hyup! I-I mean… no, sir."
Hajun adjusted his earpiece awkwardly.
"He's gone completely radio silent. No comms, no signals. His Rift I.D. beacon last pinged before the Dysgenesis Rift closed. After that—nothing. But we're… we're still tracking."
Daesang said nothing.
He just nodded once.
"You may leave."
Didn't need to tell him twice. Hajun bowed, saluted, and ran out like his shoes were on fire.
Daesang stood in the silence, staring down at the cracked floor he had made.
"You don't survive a high-tier nightmare with a precision core and zero backup... unless you're hiding something."
He took a breath and muttered under it:
"I'm going to find out who the hell you are, Han Jaemin."
Because whatever Jaemin was…
He wasn't just a Coreborn.
