Not Enough

Shim Jae-hyeok was something of a big shot.

Faced with this situation.

He still kept his composure and pressed the intercom button.

"Level one alert."

The moment that call went out, the entire estate started turning like clockwork.

Nannies, maids, gardeners—every non-combatant retreated from their posts and pulled back inside the villa within thirty seconds.

In their place, five fully armed security squads fanned out and took up positions throughout the property, gripping high-caliber submachine guns and assault rifles.

However many years Shim Jae-hyeok had put into running this estate, that was how many years he'd poured money into its security systems.

The defensive network alone was worth enough to buy three office buildings in Gangnam, Seoul.

He had every reason to be confident.

He knew ability users were strong, but ability users weren't bulletproof.

Throw enough firepower at them, and you could still turn one into Swiss cheese. There was precedent for it in history.

At that moment, on a high vantage point outside the estate.

Song Junhe was quietly watching the screen of his tablet.

On the surveillance feed, a young man was strolling through the main gate of the estate like he owned the place, his posture so relaxed it bordered on absurd.

"Is this guy under the impression he's invincible?"

Beside him, a man in sunglasses took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke half-veiling his face.

"That's not arrogance. That's confidence. Maybe even conviction."

"And if he fails?"

"Then he fails. Not our problem."

The Sunglasses Man flicked his ash, genuinely indifferent.

He'd tagged along purely out of boredom, to watch the show.

Song Junhe didn't reply.

He shifted his gaze back to the tablet.

On the screen, Lin Mo had already stepped through the estate gates.

The neatly trimmed shrubs lining the asphalt path cast deep shadows in the night.

Lin Mo walked forward over the fallen leaves, unhurried, as if he were heading home.

He counted.

Three sniper positions on the left, two on the right.

Seismic mines buried in the grass. An infrared detection net covering the entire main road.

Interesting.

Before he could take ten more steps, the ground split open in two seams, and twin machines rose from beneath.

Six barrels each, rotating assembly, ammo belts linked to the feed boxes at the base.

Vulcan cannons.

Rotary multi-barrel machine guns.

With a rate of fire of six thousand rounds per minute, these things were meant for taking out armored vehicles on the battlefield.

And Shim Jae-hyeok was using them to guard a private estate.

"Badass!"

Lin Mo hadn't even finished raising his thumb.

The next second, all six barrels spun up, and the muzzles erupted in a storm of fire.

A curtain of bullets swept across the approach, shredding the asphalt into flying debris as craters linked into a crisscross of impact holes.

Lin Mo dodged left, slipping behind a roadside tree.

But these were ornamental saplings, trunks no thicker than a bowl.

The Vulcan's heavy rounds tore through the wood like cardboard.

In an instant, the tree snapped clean in half, the upper section toppling over as splinters and bark exploded everywhere.

But there was no one behind it.

The camera systems on both turrets went into overdrive, the 360-degree cameras rotating for three full turns. Thermal imaging, motion capture, sonic detection—all of it switched on.

Nothing.

He'd vanished into thin air?

"Report: target lost!"

"Keep searching! Full coverage in every direction, watch the blind spots!"

Down in the underground control room, sweat beaded on the operators' foreheads.

Their fingers flew across the control panels, expanding the search perimeter to cover the entire front courtyard.

Still nothing.

Outside the estate.

Song Junhe sat bolt upright, frowning at the tablet.

"Where'd he go?"

"People don't just vanish."

The Sunglasses Man stubbed out his cigarette, and for once, he actually looked interested. "Maybe he's a dual-ability user."

"A dual-ability user? Is that what gives him his confidence?" Song Junhe took a deep breath. If that was the case, then he really needed to win over Piao Guochang.

He leaned back into his seat, fingers drumming absently on the armrest.

The screen remained empty.

But in reality, Lin Mo was right beneath those two turrets.

To be precise, he'd turned into a pool of blood.

In the instant the tree was shattered, his entire body liquefied and spread silently along the ground, his color bleeding into the churned-up dirt and grass, completely indistinguishable.

The blood flowed along the cracks in the asphalt, seeped through the gaps in the turret bases, then traveled down the internal wiring and conduits.

Underground control room.

The operators were still frantically hunting for their target.

The thermal imaging on their screens showed nothing but blank space, the indicator lights flashing steady green. Every reading was normal.

What they didn't know was that a thin film of dark red liquid had begun seeping through the ceiling tiles above them, then dripping onto the floor behind their chairs, gathering soundlessly, rising, and solidifying into form.

Lin Mo stood there again, not a single hair out of place.

He glanced at the wall of surveillance monitors, then at the backs of the operators' heads.

"Oi!"

Everyone spun around.

A young man was standing behind them, grinning, hands in his pockets.

That smile lasted less than half a second.

Lin Mo raised his hand.

A blade of blood cut through the air without a sound.

Five thin red lines appeared across five throats, all at the same instant.

No scream. The vocal cords were severed faster than pain could travel to the brain.

The blood that sprayed out never touched the ground. Every drop changed direction midair, converging onto Lin Mo's right hand, condensing into a single dark-red sphere.

"A very impressive security system, but..."

Lin Mo turned and walked toward the stairs. His footsteps echoed through the empty basement.

"Not enough."

Upstairs.

The villa's main hall was already in full readiness.

More than twenty security personnel were split into three fan-shaped formations, every gun barrel locked on the front door.

Four men flanked each side corridor, assault rifles pressed tight to cover the flanks.

Every window was sealed shut. Iron shutters were lowered, leaving only fist-sized firing ports.

Everyone was waiting.

If the intruder had come through the estate's main gate, then he would have to come through the villa's front door.

It was only a guess, but it was the most likely scenario.

The man in charge was a B-rank Ability User—burly, with a curly perm that looked fresh out of a salon, and an old scar running from the corner of his left brow all the way down to his jaw. A cigar hung from his mouth as his eyes swept back and forth between every window and every entrance.

Everyone else carried guns.

Not him.

In each hand, he held a crossbow—specially modified repeating crossbows. The bolt tips were coated in a glowing blue compound: a suppressant agent developed specifically for superhuman constitutions. One bolt in the body, and the target's ability would be suppressed by seventy percent within thirty seconds.

That was something Shim Jae-hyeok had shelled out big money to get from the Americans.

The B-rank Ability User blew out a puff of smoke and stared at the sealed door.

"Everyone, stay sharp."

His voice was low, but in the dead-silent hall, every single person heard him clearly.

"Gun crew! Have you spotted the target?!"

He shouted into the radio.

But there was no response from the other end. His instincts kicked in immediately.

"The intruder's hit the basement. Aim the guns at the basement level."

The gun crew's position was right beside the hall's wall cabinet, at the basement entrance.

So in an instant, every weapon was trained on that cabinet.

Sure enough, the next second, the cabinet slid open slowly.