The Upper City was a goddamn lie.
From the slums, it looked like a paradise of white marble and floating lights. Up close, it was just a prettier cage. The mana-lamps lined the streets, humming with a frequency that made Si-woo's teeth ache. People in silk tunics crossed the street to avoid them, holding scented handkerchiefs to their noses as if the smell of the 12th District was contagious.
"Look at them," Liora hissed, her eyes darting toward a shop window filled with enchanted jewelry. "They're walking around with enough mana in their pockets to feed our whole block for a decade. I want to burn it. I want to burn it all."
"Keep your hands in your pockets, fire-starter," Si-woo said. "We aren't here to window shop. We're here for the barracks."
The 13th Vanguard barracks wasn't a castle. It was a repurposed warehouse tucked away in the shadow of the Great Wall, right next to the city's sewer runoff. The stone was damp, the roof sagged, and the sign hanging over the door was missing two letters, so it just read: VANG ARD 13.
Si-woo kicked the door open.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of cheap tobacco and stale sweat. A dozen men and women in tattered Shepherd uniforms were scattered around the room. None of them were training. One was sharpening a rusted dagger, two were playing cards for copper scraps, and a massive man was passed out on a bench with an empty bottle of moonshine in his hand.
"New meat?"
A woman sat at a desk in the center of the room, her boots propped up on a pile of paperwork. She had short, jagged black hair and a prosthetic arm made of dull, gray iron that looked like it had been hammered together in a junkyard. She looked like she hadn't smiled since the Empire was founded.
"Captain Kang," Si-woo said, recognizing the woman.
In the previous timeline, Kang Min-ah was known as the "Iron Bitch." She was a legendary commander who had been demoted to the 13th after she punched a High Priest in the face for sacrificing her soldiers. She was also one of the few people Si-woo actually respected.
Min-ah squinted at them. "I don't remember giving you my name, kid. Who the hell are you?"
"Han Si-woo. These are my subordinates."
"Subordinates?" A man at the card table laughed, spitting on the floor. "Listen to this brat. You're in the 13th, kid. We don't have subordinates here. We just have people waiting for their turn to die."
Si-woo didn't look at the man. He kept his eyes on Min-ah. "We brought a Wood-Ent core from the trials. The Captain at the gate sent us here because he didn't like my face."
Min-ah's boots hit the floor with a heavy thud. The room went quiet. The card players stopped dealing. Even the drunk on the bench snorted and shifted.
"A Wood-Ent core?" Min-ah walked over, her iron arm whirring softly. She stopped in front of Si-woo, her gaze piercing. "In the 12th District trials? Either you're a liar, or you're the luckiest piece of shit I've ever met."
"I don't believe in luck," Si-woo said.
Min-ah looked at Liora, then at In-ho, who was trying to hide his massive frame behind a pillar. She looked back at Si-woo and saw the brand on his neck—and the cold, hollow emptiness in his eyes.
"You've killed people before," she stated. It wasn't a question.
"More than you've had hot meals," Si-woo replied.
Min-ah smirked—a jagged, dangerous expression. "Good. Because the Quartermaster just sent word. Apparently, you pissed off a Valerius. He's already pulled our supply requisition for the month. We have no rations, no new whetstones, and only three sets of functional armor for thirty people."
"So we're fucked?" In-ho whispered.
"We're the 13th. We're always fucked," Min-ah said. She turned to the room. "Listen up, you losers! These three are joining the roster. Give them a bunk if you can find one that isn't infested with mana-rats."
She turned back to Si-woo. "Since you're so good at killing things, you get the night shift. There's a mana-leak in the North Tunnels. The 'wolves' have been nesting there. Go clear them out. If you survive, maybe I'll find you some boots that don't have holes in them."
Si-woo nodded. "Fine. But I want a 50% cut of any mana-crystals we find."
"30%," Min-ah countered.
"40%, and you tell me where I can find a black-market smith who doesn't ask questions."
Min-ah stared at him for a long beat, then let out a short, dry bark of a laugh. "Deal. Get out of my sight, Han Si-woo. Try not to die in the dark."
Si-woo didn't wait for a guided tour. He grabbed a piece of stale bread from a communal bin—ignoring the green fuzz on the corner—and signaled for Liora and In-ho to follow.
"The North Tunnels?" Liora hissed as they stepped back out into the damp evening air. "Si-woo, the North Tunnels are where the city's 'waste' goes. And I don't just mean the shit. I mean the excess mana that turns common rats into things with too many teeth."
"I know what's down there," Si-woo said, his voice flat. He wasn't looking at the tunnels; he was looking at the way the mana-lights of the Upper City reflected in the black puddles. "It's not just a leak. It's a feeding ground."
In-ho shifted the weight of his mace. "If it's so dangerous, why send us? We just got here."
"Because she wants to see if we're worth the air we breathe," Si-woo replied. "In the 13th, you don't earn a paycheck. You earn the right to wake up tomorrow."
The North Tunnels: Entrance 4-B
The entrance was a rusted iron grate tucked behind a luxury textile mill. A thick, viscous green mist seeped through the bars, smelling of copper and ozone.
Si-woo pulled a small, jagged dagger from his belt—a memento from one of the candidates who had tried to jump him earlier.
"In-ho, you're the wall. If something comes out of the dark, you don't ask it for its name. You flatten it. Liora, keep the flames small. We're in a confined space; if you use a Blaze Serpent, you'll suck all the oxygen out of the tunnel and kill us before the monsters do."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't blow us up. Got it, Mom," Liora muttered, though her hands were shaking as she sparked a small flame on her thumb for light.
They descended.
The tunnels were a labyrinth of slick stone and Echo-Mana. Every footstep rang out like a bell, vibrating through the damp air. After ten minutes of walking, the walls began to change. The stone was covered in a pulsating, violet moss that throbbed like a heartbeat.
[Warning: Environmental Mana Density is Rising.]
[Detection: Rank-E 'Mana-Leech' Colony nearby.]
"Stop," Si-woo whispered.
He looked up at the ceiling. Hanging from the pipes were dozens of bloated, translucent sacs. They looked like oversized maggots, each one glowing with a sickly purple light.
"Mana-Leeches," Liora whispered, her face pale. "If one of those lands on you, it'll drain your core until your heart stops."
"They don't hunt by sight," Si-woo said, his eyes narrowing. "They hunt by vibration and mana-output. Liora, put the flame out."
"But we won't see—"
"Put it out."
The tunnel went pitch black. The only thing visible was the faint, rhythmic pulsing of the leeches above.
Si-woo closed his eyes. He didn't need sight. He used [Eye of the Watcher]. His vision shifted into a thermal-mana spectrum. The world became a series of blue outlines and glowing purple heat signatures.
"In-ho, three steps forward. Slowly," Si-woo commanded.
As they moved, one of the leeches detached from the ceiling, falling silently like a drop of heavy oil. It was aiming for In-ho's neck.
Si-woo didn't swing a sword. He reached out, his hand moving with a precision that defied the darkness. He caught the squelching, rubbery body of the leech mid-air.
[Skill: 'Cull the Weak' activated.]
A surge of cold, dark energy flowed from Si-woo's palm. The leech shriveled instantly, its stored mana being forcibly ripped out and absorbed into Si-woo's brand.
"Fucking disgusting," Si-woo muttered, tossing the dried husk aside.
"Did you... did you just eat its mana?" Liora asked, her voice trembling in the dark.
"I took back what it stole," Si-woo said. He felt a slight warmth in his chest. The System buzzed.
[Mana Saturation: 1.5%]
[Strength +0.1]
"There's a hundred of them," In-ho whispered, his teeth chattering. "We can't catch them all, Si-woo."
"We aren't going to," Si-woo said, a dark grin spreading across his face in the dark. "Liora, remember what I said about the oxygen? Forget it. In thirty seconds, I want you to blast the ceiling. Everything you've got. Burn the whole nest."
"But you said—"
"In-ho is going to hold his breath and put his cloak over his face. I'll do the same. We're going to use the vacuum to pull us through the next bulkhead. Now, do it."
Liora didn't argue. She gathered every scrap of mana the wine had left in her system. Her hands didn't just spark; they roared.
"Eat shit, you parasites!" she screamed.
A massive gout of white-hot flame erupted, turning the tunnel into a furnace. The leeches screamed—a high-pitched, psychic wail that made Si-woo's ears bleed—as they popped like overripe grapes.
The heat was blinding. The air vanished.
"Now! Run!" Si-woo roared, grabbing them both by the collars and dragging them toward the iron door at the end of the hall.