The silence that fell over the Umizu industrial complex was heavier and more profound than before. It was a dead silence, filled with the ghosts of inhuman energies and the fresh stench of liquified Kaiju.
Jin-Woo's thirteen shadow Kaiju, their task complete, melted back into the ground, their forms dissolving like smoke and flowing back to their master's shadow. They left behind a yard littered with the bisected and dismembered corpses of their original bodies. It was a scene of chilling, systematic carnage.
Kafka Hibino finally un---pressed himself from the wall, his legs trembling, his mind a static-filled void.
He had just witnessed a battle that had no business existing on Earth. He had seen a creature made of living bone, a silent army born from shadows, telekinesis that could crush a building, and a sword made of starlight. The laws of physics had been treated as mere suggestions.
The fight had been short, perhaps less than five minutes in total. But in those five minutes, his understanding of the power scale of his world had been completely and irrevocably shattered. Mina Ashiro, the Defense Force's mightiest cannon, could have leveled the entire complex.
Jin-Woo, on the other hand, could have unmade it on a conceptual level, with barely a whisper.
"It got away," Kafka said, the words coming out as a choked, stupidly obvious statement.
Jin-Woo didn't turn. His back was still to Kafka as he stared in the direction No. 9 had fled. The killing intent that had saturated the air was gone, drawn back into him, leaving a chilling vacuum in its wake.
"It sacrificed a limb to escape a trap," Jin-Woo replied, his voice a low, cold monotone. "It is a tactic of a cornered, but intelligent, animal. The body I destroyed was a clone. A disposable puppet. Significant in power, but ultimately, a shell."
"A clone?" Kafka's mind boggled. "You mean… there are more of them?"
"There is a central consciousness. An Architect," Jin-Woo said, finally turning. The violet glow in his eyes was muted, but now held a thoughtful, calculating glint. "This Architect creates these puppets to act as its hands in the world, to experiment and gather data. Tonight, I was the subject of its experiment."
He walked slowly towards Kafka, his boots silent on the littered ground. "It learned several things. It learned the nature of my power. It learned that its conventional creations are useless against me. It learned that I can raise the dead. And it gave me a name."
King of the Dead. The title sent a shiver down Kafka's spine. It was a fitting, terrifying epithet.
"Most importantly," Jin-Woo continued, stopping a few feet from Kafka, "it learned of my existence through you. Your uncontrolled energy spike after consuming the core was the flare that drew its attention. Your presence here led it directly to me."
The unspoken accusation was as heavy as a physical blow. Kafka flinched, a wave of guilt washing over him. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Knowing is irrelevant. The outcome is the same," Jin-Woo said, his voice devoid of blame, but also of any comfort. It was a simple statement of cause and effect. "The Architect now sees me as the primary threat. It will recalibrate. It will design something new. Something specifically to counter me."
He paused, his gaze intense. "Something that can perhaps negate shadows, or a creature that can attack the soul directly. Or a weapon that can disrupt a necromancer's connection to his soldiers. Its next creation will be an anti-Sovereign weapon. And it will be far more dangerous than anything this world has seen."
Kafka's stomach turned to ice. He hadn't just messed up. He had potentially triggered the creation of a doomsday weapon. He had put a target on Jin-Woo's back, and by extension, the entire world's.
"So… what now?" Kafka asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Now, the hunt becomes a race," Jin-Woo stated simply. "I must find the Architect's true body and eliminate it before it can perfect its creation. And to do that, I need more information. Which is where you come in."
He gestured to the largest of the original Kaiju corpses—the gorilla-like beast. Its chest had been torn open, revealing a large, pulsating core, noticeably brighter than the one from the alley.
"That core is yours," Jin-Woo said. "A payment for tonight's lesson. Consume it. Grow stronger. The stronger you become, the more attention you will draw from both the Architect and the Defense Force. You will become a lightning rod. And through the incidents you create and the data you gather, you will lead me to my quarry."
Kafka looked at the core, then back at Jin-Woo. His role in this cosmic game was becoming clearer. He wasn't just a student. He wasn't an ally. He was a piece on the board. A valuable, but ultimately expendable, pawn. Or perhaps, a hunting dog being sent to flush the real prey out of hiding.
"I can't just keep… getting into fights," Kafka argued, his common sense rebelling. "The Defense Force is already hunting the 'Jumper'. If I keep causing trouble, my secret life, my real life… it'll be impossible to maintain!"
For the first time that night, the corner of Jin-Woo's mouth quirked upwards in a cold, humorless smirk.
"You believe you still have a 'real life'?" he asked, the question laced with a chilling pity. "Kafka Hibino, the janitor, was a role you played. A shell. That life ended the moment you made a bargain with me. Your only reality now is the hunt. There is the power you have, the power you will gain, and the enemies that want to tear you apart to get it. Everything else is a ghost."
The words were brutal, stripping away the last of Kafka's comforting illusions. The choice he thought he had made in the alley… it hadn't really been a choice at all. It was an irreversible step into a new, more dangerous world.
Jin-Woo turned to leave, his form beginning to blur as he prepared to merge with the shadows. "Consume the core. Master the lessons from tonight. Learn to sheathe and unsheathe your power as easily as breathing. The next time we meet, I will expect you to be able to form a full suit of biological armor without transforming. Do not disappoint me."
With that final, impossible-sounding homework assignment, he dissolved into the darkness, leaving Kafka completely alone in the graveyard he had created.
Kafka stood there for a long time, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked at the gore-covered core, his stomach churning not just from disgust, but from the dawning horror of his new reality.
Jin-Woo was right. His old life was a ghost.
With a ragged sigh that sounded more like a sob, he walked towards the gorilla-Kaiju's corpse. He had another disgusting meal to eat, and a whole new level of power to attain. He didn't know if he was becoming a hero or a monster anymore. Maybe there was no longer a difference.
He just knew he had to get stronger. Because in a world of architects and monarchs, being weak was the only true sin.