The meeting room had the sound of a lobby before a match. People leaned in over shoulders, voices low and quick.
"What is your level now?"
"After hunting all day, I just reached level three."
"Did you pull a high-tier class?"
"Yeah, a Rare one. I got such cool starting gear too."
"We were fighting a Rare boss, and man, it was difficult. I died three times."
An older general chuckled, the lines at his eyes deepening. "I felt like I was back in my heyday, hahah."
If you didn't know better, it could pass for a room full of gamers. Then you noticed the uniforms, the guarded eyes, the way everyone held themselves, and the joke died on its own.
The President's jaw tightened. He slapped his palm flat on the table.
"Ladies and gentlemen. I think this is enough chatter. We will be starting the national briefing."
The hum fell off a cliff. From the back row, someone whispered, "Hey, doesn't the President seem a little irritated? Did something happen to him in GFS?"
"No, but I heard he got a Common class. Lowest of all of us. I think he's just salty." A few heads tilted. Someone failed to swallow a laugh and let out a small wheeze.
The President looked up slowly. "Who was that?" His voice was flat and hard. "Stand up. Now."
Silence. Chairs creaked. No one moved.
A scientist cleared his throat, voice careful. "Sir, if I may begin the data section?"
The President held his stare a beat longer, then exhaled. "Proceed." He straightened the papers in front of him without looking down.
The scientist worked from a tablet and didn't let his eyes rise above the middle distance. He kept it simple: what class was specialised in what, optimal party compositions, how core stats were affecting damage, defense, and survivability, different potions' effect, and the small system functions people kept asking about—how to check someone's name, how to hide your face, how to write messages and show them through the system panel.
"Thank you," the President said, cutting in cleanly. He set the tablet aside, glanced down the table. "We'll move to field reports. Captains of the new SMU detachments, please proceed."
A colonel stood. "Sir. Assaults, extortion, and homicides inside GFS are rising. We're arresting offenders outside and charging where we can, but it doesn't stop them inside. Some keep their faces hidden, so Identification becomes even harder. We have no doctrine for projecting authority in there."
Another officer added, quieter, "People are learning the limits. Some are pushing them on purpose."
A tired weight settled in the room. The laughter from earlier had nowhere to sit.
A woman raised her hand. "Sir."
"Go ahead, Captain Kang."
"Sir, I might have a way to deal with this."
The room settled another notch.
Sieun had run the scene in her head a dozen times.
At first, she filed Loki's method as wrong. Then she replayed the what-ifs if he had not been there, and a cold line ran down her back. She was a woman in there too. If that had been her, or one of her people, warnings would not have stopped it and a cell outside would not have mattered in time.
The thought hardened into a decision. This kind of predation had to be stopped where it happened. People who hunted the weak because GFS gave them cover were, to her, trash. If they crossed the line, they were better off dead.
Kang gave a tight, factual recap: the assault in Ashen Hollow, Loki's intervention, the condition of the offenders when they respawned, and the woman he'd pulled out. She repeated, without spin, what Loki had said to her afterward.
When she finished, the room stirred.
"What is she proposing?"
"Beating people until they have seizures? That's barbaric."
"Are we supposed to thank him for beating civilians. She's lost her mind."
"They were criminals, not civilians."
"He still saved the victim," someone else said. "That is a fact."
Voices rose and crossed. Kang lifted her chin slightly.
"Inside GFS there is no law except level and skill," she said. "We cannot control anyone in there the way we do here. At best, we can maintain order. To do that, the rules must be simple and visible. Reward those who protect. Punish those who prey. If someone crosses a clear line, the consequence inside should be death, because that is the only thing that lands. Tie it to outside penalties when we can, but accept that deterrence has to live where the offense happens."
Silence held for a few beats.
"That is vigilantism," a justice official said, voice tight. "There is no due process. What if it is their last life? What if we misidentify someone? Then we will have killed an innocent. What then?"
"What you say makes sense," Kang answered, steady. "But the death penalty must exist inside for predation. The woman in that case would have been traumatized, or worse, without immediate force. My people can arrest criminals outside. Inside, all we have are warnings, and those do not work."
A brigadier spoke from halfway down the table. "She is right about one thing. The only thing that changes behavior in there is consequence in there. Our arrests and fines outside are a day late and close to meaningless to the offenders."
Another officer cut in, sharper. "Authorize kill-on-sight as punishment and we will grow our own warlords."
The President let the current run, then put a hand on the table.
"Points taken," he said at last. "We are not rewriting the law for a second reality that might disappear for all we know on a Tuesday afternoon. We are also not pretending that posters and pep talks will fix what is already happening."
He looked to Foreign Affairs, then Defense. "This is not just us. Our counterparts are facing the same thing. Raise this to the international working group tonight. Ask for a shared framework for in-GFS protection and sanctions. Shared language. Shared signals."
He turned back to Kang. "In the meantime, Captain, draft a narrow pilot for Ashen Hollow. Make it clear. Make it enforceable with the tools that actually exist in there. Build in safeguards where you can."
"Yes, sir."
He swept the table once more. "We do this with our eyes open. We are not deputizing cruelty. We are buying time and safety for people who still flinch when they close their eyes. Bring me a pilot I can sign, and bring me data the world can share."
The room started breathing again. Screens woke, notes began, low exchanges resumed. Kang sat, jaw set but steady, and the briefing moved on.