Chapter 85: Forced to Choose
What came next branded itself into Min's mind like a curse that would never fade.
The air split.
The Tech King's laughter bled into static as his aura detonated. Raw data turned divine. The storm twisted around him, lightning freezing mid-strike, rain hanging weightless as the sky inverted from gray to electric blue.
Lines of code erupted into the clouds. A titanic frame began to take shape, first light, then alloy, then godhood made machine.
The mech that emerged dwarfed the sea. Its armor was cobalt and steel, plates shifting like living skin, each movement cracking the air. Massive turbines flared along its spine, spewing arcs of plasma that burned through the storm. Every step displaced miles of ocean.
It raised one hand, fingers the size of towers...and the world bent.
Min couldn't breathe. Every heartbeat came jagged. Her lungs seized against the weight of that power. The air smelled like ozone and blood.
And then, another light cut through the chaos.
The Cultivation King stepped forward like he was walking through rain, unbothered by the apocalypse unfolding beside him. His robes didn't move. His hair stayed still. The ground itself steadied to receive him.
"Youth is sadly a wasted blessing."
His eyes opened—pure silver fire.
He moved his hands once, twice—motions too fast for thought to follow.
Two diagrams exploded into existence behind him, vast as cities, spinning in opposite directions. The sigils burned white-hot, lines of divine calligraphy folding and rewriting reality.
From within those seals came movement...scales like mountains shifting, claws scraping through space.
Two azure dragons tore through the barriers with soundless fury, their bodies stretching endless through the clouds. The air rippled beneath their weight, oceans parting as they roared, sound turned physical, shaking the marrow of every living thing for miles.
They dove, coiling around the mech as both forces struck the Drowned King.
The impact tore the sea open.
Waves rose like walls. Lightning became rivers. Reality itself screamed under the weight of three gods locked in collision.
And through it all...Seo-jin stood.
Everyone else had fallen. Min collapsed, her vision narrowing under the shockwaves, her ears bleeding from the noise.
But he didn't move.
He stood upright in the storm, drenched and trembling, eyes wide and bloodshot, veins bulging like black serpents across his face. His body looked seconds from tearing itself apart, but his gaze never left the battlefield.
That image...his stillness in the end of the world...burned itself into her.
A memory that would never stop hurting.
When she finally woke, the war was over. The sea was calm, the sky open again, but the feeling didn't leave. She told herself it was shock. The aftermath of seeing gods tear reality apart. That lie worked for a while.
Even as they slowly trudged back to Shatterbay in silence, boots sinking into mud, no one speaking, no one daring to. Even as Seo-jin locked himself in his room for a week when they got home. She told herself nothing had changed.
But she was wrong.
When he finally came out, he looked the same. Same smile. Same walk. But the man inside wasn't him anymore. The light in his eyes was gone, burned out, replaced by something hungrier.
The first proof came fast.
The Dead Hands started running Digi-Stixx.
No one believed it at first. Seo-jin had sworn he'd never touch it. But there they were, pushing Tech Kingdom vapors across every district, little neon cartridges packed with stolen memory.
Love. Fear. Lust. Murder. One inhale, and you lived someone else's life for a few precious minutes. In a world gutted of art and story, people would sell their souls for the illusion of feeling something real again.
He said it was strategy. Expansion. A way to build the gang faster, to buy weapons, gear, safehouses. And at first...it worked.
Money came in. Power came easy. Then the killing started.
Territories bled. Rival crews fell one by one, their bodies left for the rats and rain. Seo-jin didn't avoid fights anymore, he provoked them. He smiled through them. He enjoyed them.
They started calling him the Reaper of Shatterbay. And he didn't deny it.
Min tried to convince herself it was worth it. Every decision sounded reasonable when Seo-jin explained it, every act of brutality wrapped in logic. But with each new deal struck, each monthly tribute sent to the Woon Corporation, she felt the old Dead Hands slip further away.
The man they'd followed started to disappear behind the numbers, behind his ambition. Min stopped walking beside him. She followed behind now, eyes on his back.
It became the only part of him she recognized.
Then he vanished.
One mission. One rift. Gone. No body, no message, just gone.
When the call came, she froze. The same pit that had opened in her stomach back at the World Event opened again, deeper this time. She didn't cry. Didn't scream. She just knew.
She and Gregor did what they could. Patched holes, quieted rumors, kept their people fed. But Shatterbay could smell blood. Seo-jin had made too many enemies, clawed too high too fast. And now, with their king gone, every gang in the city sharpened their knives.
The Dead Hands were about to drown.
And the day finally came.
The Wire Dogs hit at sunset, heavy, organized, and desperate. Min had expected it sooner. Hell, she'd been waiting for it, half-hoping it'd end there. Maybe that would've been easier.
She'd already accepted dying for the man she thought was gone. She'd convinced herself that her being there, shields in hand, meant she'd done right by him in the end. A last stand for a ghost.
Then he came back.
One moment, she was staring down the end. Blood, smoke, and closing jaws...then a familiar voice ripped through the chaos. She'd looked up and saw him standing in the firelight. Seo-jin. Whole. Breathing. Smiling.
Relief hit so hard her knees almost gave. Everything after that blurred—Wire Dogs torn apart like meat in gears. The ground slick with their remains. And him, standing over it all, calm. Too calm.
When she finally reached him, finally touched him, her chest cracked open with something like hope. She didn't even realize she was about to cry until the system in her skull lit up.
[Classification Complete]
[Entity // Demon]
[Designation // Unknown]
The world went silent. Her fingers dug into his body. She waited for the message to change, to correct itself. It didn't.
It wasn't Seo-jin. It was wearing him.
Her instinct screamed to kill it, to rip the lie out of the world before it spread, but her system's restraint locked her in place. She forced herself to cooldown. A mercy or a curse, she couldn't tell.
She needed time to think. To plan. But every plan ended the same: her corpse next to his.
Damn the promise. Damn her revenge.
She'd avenge him, or die choking on her failure.
But killing it wasn't simple. The thing didn't move like a demon. It fought like him. Talked like him. Every word it spoke slid under her skin and took root.
Then Gregor got dragged into the crossfire, and vengeance had to wait.
Now...pinned under him, her back burning from open wounds, his claws pressed against her temple, she felt the last of her resolve draining away.
Her will wasn't iron anymore. It was ash.
She laughed, sharp and broken. The sound startled even him.
Azakh-Tur tilted his head, his borrowed eyes studying her like a puzzle.
"Have you decided?"
The air thickened, breathless.
Then a new voice broke it.
"Wait."
Gregor dropped from the shattered floor above, guns drawn, landing between them in a crouch. His face was pale, streaked with soot and blood.
"Let me say something to you both first."
Azakh-Tur exhaled, the sound closer to a growl than a breath.
"Make it quick."
Gregor glanced to him, then down to Min. The air between them crackled. Burnt dust and tension. Gregor's weapons dissolved into gray light, the faint hum of the system fading as his pistols vanished.
"Min."
His voice was tight, raw.
"You've got every right to hate him. I won't tell you not to. But if you do this—if you fight him—you'll be doing it alone."
She blinked. So did Azakh-Tur.
Gregor took a step closer. His boots scraped through the rubble.
"I've got my own shit to finish, and I can't do it alone. When Seo-jin ran things, it was barely possible. Now—"
He motioned to the demon.
"Now we have real power. We have a chance again."
His eyes burned...not with fear, but conviction.
"Think, Min. Everything he's said so far? It's true. Seo-jin gave up. He was ready to kneel to the Woons, to the fucking Kings. You want revenge? You want to fix what they took from you? Then stop fighting the only thing that might actually get us there. If you—"
"Shut the fuck up."
Her words hit like a whipcrack.
Both men flinched. Gregor froze mid-step. Even Azakh-Tur tilted his head, his black eyes narrowing.
"Min—"
"I said shut up!"
She snapped, her voice breaking on the edge of rage.
"You think I don't get it? You think—"
Her words fell apart halfway through. She turned to Azakh-Tur, chest heaving, blood still dripping down her back.
"You can get off now, ugly."
For a beat, no one spoke.
'…Ugly?'
He hesitated, his claws curling once before they morphed back to human. He rose to his feet, muttering under his breath.
"You're ugly..."
Min groaned, pushing herself up. Her body trembled, but she stayed standing. She dusted off her arms, her expression gone flat and cold.
"I get it, Gregor. I didn't want to see it, but I knew. I just didn't want to believe it."
She straightened her back, eyes on the demon.
"But tell me, genius—how the fuck do you expect that thing to keep its word?"
Azakh-Tur smiled and answered instead.
"A contract."
Broodlings dropped from above, one by one...skittering, snarling, landing in a semicircle around him. Bloodlight flickered across their skin.
Min and Gregor both stepped back, caution rising on instinct as the air thickened again. Wet heat and killing intent. The stench of something foul and hungry filled the room.
"If you want, we can sign one as well."
Min didn't answer at first. Her eyes had caught one of the Broodlings gouging a knife out of its own throat, flicking a clot of meat from the blade before picking its nose with it.
She blinked, forcing herself to look away.
"Uh… yeah. A contract. Makes sense."
She shook her head, trying to reset her focus.
"But before that…"
Her eyes fixed on him, on it, this demon wearing Seo-jin's body like a trophy.
"I know you can kill me. But that doesn't make you strong enough. Gregor might be fine following you blind, but I'm not. I want to know what you're carrying."
Her voice sharpened.
"What rank is your shard?"
Gregor stiffened beside her. Even asking that could start a fight. Still, he wanted the answer as bad as she did.
Azakh-Tur smiled. It wasn't Seo-jin's smile, it was colder, emptier, like a predator humoring prey.
"No idea."
Silence hit like a slap. Both humans stared at him, blank. Then Min exploded.
"Bullshit! Don't fuck with me—if you're not at least A-rank, we can just—"
"I'm not fucking around."
His voice cut her off.
"I don't know. My shard's… different. The Network never tagged it."
It was the truth. He'd checked countless times. Every screen, every inspection, every scan—blank. Rank: Unknown.
Min rolled her eyes and groaned.
"Then how many AP do you get per level?"
Azakh-Tur hesitated, confused.
"…Three?"
Gregor's face twisted first—disbelief, then stunned. Min froze mid-breath.
"You're lying."
Gregor stepped in close, close enough for the Broodlings to hiss, their jaws parting wide.
"No, wait—look at him. He doesn't even know what he just said."
Min's lips parted in disbelief.
"Oh, fuck me—no way—"
Her laughter came out strangled, half-hysterical, half-terrified.
"You better not be lying, demon! But if you're not—holy shit—"
She was trembling now, not from fear but from realization.
"Only S-rank and higher shards grant more than one AP per level. Three means elite-tier. Maybe even—"
Her words hit him like a gunshot.
"—a King shard."
The air died. The Broodlings went still. Even the hum of the system in his skull felt distant, muffled. Azakh-Tur didn't breathe for a moment. The word echoed through him, crawling like fire under his skin.
King.
His pulse hammered in his ears.