36: Incheon (11)
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Zack, Jay, and Vasco stood over the manhole. Their mouths had a faint curve that was neither a smile nor a frown, the sort of expression people wear when staring at something unpleasant but inevitable—like realizing you're about to crawl into a sewer.
"You really want us to go through here?" Zack asked, his finger pointing down at the circular slab of iron embedded in the cracked asphalt. His voice carried that sharp tone halfway between disbelief and protest.
The old woman with curly hair, her face lined and carved by time and scars, simply nodded as if the question itself was pointless. "Yes. Is there any problem?"
Zack's throat bobbed. He gulped once, then again. A thin trail of sweat was visible on his forehead even though the air around them was neither hot nor humid. He muttered, as if speaking to himself, "Is it safe? Is Daniel down there?" His voice lacked its usual confidence, instead bending into unease.
The woman didn't answer directly. She just tilted her head and said with a calm smile, "Let's go. Remove the cover, should you?"
That was all Vasco needed. The scar-faced man nodded, stepping forward with determination. He squatted low, placing both of his hands firmly on the rust-stained cover. His massive forearms flexed, the scars and veins dancing like they had their own life beneath his skin.
"Alright," Vasco muttered to himself, "here we go."
His muscles tensed like drawn bowstrings. The cords in his neck bulged, his jaw clenched tight, and every fiber of his body screamed resistance. His fingers dug into the edges of the manhole cover, nails scraping metal as he tried to pry it free.
A loud grunt burst from him. "Hnnnnn!!!!!"
The sound echoed across the alley. The ground beneath him vibrated. Small pebbles scattered as Vasco planted his feet deeper into the cracked asphalt. The tendons in his legs tightened so violently that a faint fissure formed at his heels, a jagged crack spiderwebbing across the road.
Zack's eyes widened. He took a cautious step forward. "Are you okay?" His voice cracked ever so slightly, unsure whether to be concerned or impressed.
Vasco's face was flushed crimson, sweat dripping down his temples. Through gritted teeth, he hissed back, "Do I look okay?"
Then, with a final roar, he heaved the monstrous slab upward. The air filled with the metallic groan of iron scraping against stone. His arms shook violently, but he didn't stop. Veins snaked up his biceps and shoulders like ropes about to snap.
And then— crack!
The ground itself gave way under the strain, tiny shards of asphalt shooting outward like shrapnel.
With one final surge, Vasco ripped the manhole cover free from the earth and swung it upward. For a moment, he stood tall, the circular beast of iron clutched in his hands like a trophy of war. Then he tossed it aside with a grunt.
The cover landed several meters away with a thunderous BAMM! The ground split where it struck, leaving a shallow crater, dust cloud curling upward.
Vasco dropped back onto his haunches, chest rising and falling like a piston. His vest sticked to his body, drenched with sweat. He exhaled heavily, dragging one hand across his brow, then slumped onto the ground as though the sheer weight of the task had sucked the air from his lungs.
"What was that thing made up of!?" he exclaimed, breath ragged.
The old woman's lips curved into a soft smile. She clasped her hands together, her scarred features almost glowing with a sense of approval. There was no mockery, no ridicule—only a strange kind of reverence.
"That was quite impressive," she said, clapping lightly with her eyes closed as if savoring a piece of theater. "I didn't expect you would be able to lift the heaviest manhole cover in Incheon all alone."
"Heaviest in Incheon?" Zack echoed, his brows knitting together.
The woman opened her eyes and nodded. "Yes. That thing approximately weighs three hundred kilograms."
There was a pause—then the weight of her words hit them like a hammer.
All three of their jaws dropped. Even Jay, usually the silent and unshakable shadow beside them, had his lips parted in a rare flash of disbelief.
"Three hundred kilograms!?" the three exclaimed almost in unison, their voices overlapping.
The old woman's smile only deepened.
The weight of her words lingered in the air. Three hundred kilograms.
Even Zack, who prided himself on maintaining a calm and controlled expression no matter the situation, had his eyes wide. Jay's disbelief was subtle but undeniable—his lips formed the smallest of gaps. Vasco, however, wore the stunned look of someone who had just realized he'd arm-wrestled a truck and won without knowing the stakes.
"Three hundred kilos!?" Zack repeated, rubbing the back of his head as though trying to process it. His voice carried a mix of awe and frustration, like he'd been outshined by Vasco yet again.
The old lady's smile softened into something unreadable—part amusement, part mystery. She stepped closer to the yawning black hole Vasco had uncovered. The faint stink of the underground wafted up, sour and damp. The stale air carried whispers of mildew, rust, and time.
"Why don't we meet Jaegyeon and talk about it sometime else?" she said smoothly, as though this entire spectacle of brute force was nothing more than a passing delay. Without waiting for their response, she set her gnarled hands on the edge of the hole and began to climb down, her movements surprisingly nimble despite her age. The flashlight in her hand flickered briefly, casting warped shadows against the walls before disappearing below.
The three men exchanged glances. Jay, silent as always, was the first to move. He stepped to the edge, crouched down, and slipped into the darkness with effortless grace. His black earrings caught the light briefly before vanishing. A moment later, a faint sound of boots landing echoed from below.
Jay looked up from the shadows, lifted one hand, and gave a thumbs up.
Vasco cracked his knuckles, nodded once, and stepped toward the hole. His broad frame eclipsed the faint light spilling down the manhole. He crouched, planted his thick arms on either side of the rim, and tried to slide down.
That was when the problem hit.
A dull scraping noise filled the air as Vasco's shoulders wedged tightly against the edges of the manhole. His body stopped halfway in, halfway out.
"…Hnn?" Vasco muttered, shifting his shoulders. But no matter how he tried, his broad chest and bulky arms had nowhere to go.
From above, Zack stared at the ridiculous sight, his hand dragging down his face. "Come on, man! Just how big are your muscles that you manage to get stuck in a manhole!?" His voice cracked with exasperation.
"I didn't know I'd have to go into a manhole someday!" Vasco snapped back, his voice echoing off the metal walls beneath him. His scarred face was scrunched in irritation.
"Hah! Seriously," Zack sighed, pressing his palm to his temple. His patience was already thin, and this absurdity was stretching it further.
"Don't sigh, help me!" Vasco barked, his legs kicking faintly like a giant trapped child.
"Okay, okay!" Zack leaned forward, crouching near the rim. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled down into the darkness. "JAY! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, VASCO IS STUCK IN THE HOLE! YOU NEED TO PULL HIM DOWN, OKAY!?"
But the darkness below answered with silence.
Zack frowned, muttering under his breath. "Maybe he already went in deeper…" His eyes darted toward the black void, unease creeping at the edges of his mind.
Then, without warning, Vasco jerked violently. His body shifted downward, a raw shout bursting from his chest.
"I can feel it!" he shouted. "Jay's right there, Zack!"
Sure enough, there was a force pulling from below—sharp, insistent tugs at his leg. Jay must have grabbed him, trying to drag him through the tight space.
"Alright, let's do this," Zack growled, bracing himself. He planted his hands firmly on Vasco's back and shoved with everything he had. Muscles strained, and the sound of scraping metal rang out again as Vasco's torso forced its way through.
"Push harder!" Vasco yelled.
"I am pushing harder!" Zack barked back.
Between Jay's relentless pull from below and Zack's brutal shove from above, the stalemate finally broke. Vasco slipped through with a sudden, violent lurch.
BAMMM!
The sound of his massive frame hitting the ground below thundered through the tunnel. Dust and stale air kicked up, swirling around Jay's boots.
Vasco groaned, lying flat on the damp concrete floor, his pride as bruised as his back.
Above, Zack exhaled a long, dramatic sigh. "What a pain…" He gave the rim one last look, then dropped down himself, landing beside the others.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
The only light was the faint glow spilling from the open hole above—and the steady beam of the old lady's flashlight cutting through the black. Its pale glow glimmered against the wet walls, illuminating rust-streaked pipes and cracked tiles. The silence down here wasn't natural. It pressed against their ears, broken only by the sound of dripping water echoing somewhere far away.
The three men instinctively closed their ranks, walking behind the old woman as she led the way. The floor was slick and uneven, forcing them to watch their footing. Each step splashed faintly in shallow puddles, the cold water soaking through their soles.
They didn't speak. Instead, they clung to each other's presence in the suffocating dark. Vasco's broad hand gripped Zack's suit. Zack, in turn, had a hand brushing against Jay's shoulder. The chain of contact was their lifeline, their silent way of making sure no one was swallowed by the black.
The air was damp and heavy, carrying the musty scent of stone and something older—decay. Rats skittered in the unseen corners, claws scratching against unseen paths.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, the old lady came to a stop. She turned, her flashlight clicking off with a soft snap. The sudden darkness was suffocating.
Her voice broke the quiet. "This is where Speed is residing."
She pointed forward. The outline of a door loomed ahead, almost invisible in the dark until their eyes adjusted.
Zack's throat tightened. He swallowed once, his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand hovered over the door handle for a long moment. The silence between them grew louder. Then, with a slow inhale, he pushed the door open.
Light exploded into the space.
It was so sudden, so blinding, that Zack instinctively squinted and shielded his eyes with a raised arm. Vasco hissed through his teeth, throwing his head back. Even Jay, composed as he always was, flinched slightly against the burn of illumination.
The oppressive dark was replaced with brilliance. The room beyond wasn't massive, but it was filled with light and presence.
And there, inside, were eleven figures.
Eleven survivors of Incheon.
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[A/N: With this chapter, Half of the 'story' of Incheon Arc is over, not half of the arc. After this, the next 2-3 chapter we'll know what happened before the rest of Allied came. Then, what happened to the other regions kings that came for Jaegyeon Na's help, and after that....Fucking Fights!!! and....In other words, An amount of story is left, if I get, 40 power stones, I will release the next 2 chapters. Or else, One chapter per day is cool.]