Asic opened the silver suitcase on the floor, using his finger to scan his fingerprint. The suitcase unlocked, revealing its contents. Ejin was taken aback—besides clothes, there were weapons of all sorts: for close, medium, and long-range combat.
"How did you manage to bring guns onto the train?" Ejin asked, shocked. Not that Asic had guns—in Cryptopolis, getting a gun was as easy as buying a toy. All you had to do was show a license at the store, and you could buy civilian-grade weapons. Civilians could only get smaller-caliber weapons meant for self-defense; only police and military could have war-grade equipment.
But still, bringing guns onto a train wasn't normal—the baggage checks were usually stringent before boarding. Somehow, though, both the terrorists and Asic had slipped their weapons through.
"I have a license," Asic said.
"Because you're a cop?"
"I used to be part of the tactical unit. I have clearance to carry weapons everywhere—except government buildings," Asic explained, quickly strapping on body armor and readying the weapons with expert precision. Ejin's heart pounded as he watched—there were so many weapons.
"I can help. I've fired a gun before," Ejin offered, eager to do anything that might help Palon, who was still hiding in the bathroom. If Asic would just give him a gun, Ejin could do something—even a second faster might mean saving her.
But.
"No," Asic dismissed him without hesitation. His hands didn't stop moving, loading bullets into magazines at an almost magical speed, faster than Ejin could follow. It was like the bullets just appeared, already in place.
"Two people are better than one," Ejin argued.
"I'd rather fight alone."
"You think I'd just get in the way?"
"Yes. I don't want to fight terrorists while protecting you at the same time. On top of that, I'd have to worry about collateral damage—bringing an amateur into a combat zone isn't just unhelpful, it complicates things. It would reduce our chances of saving Palon. If you really want to help, then you need to listen to me."
Ejin swallowed. Asic's words cooled his head again. Asic had deliberately brought up Palon's safety—it was the only thing that could get Ejin to calm down.
"But… I want to help her."
"I appreciate that you want to help her—I really do. I admire your courage. But I'm not here to play cops and robbers. I can't let a kid die needlessly. If you insist on coming, I'll knock you out right here and now," Asic said, his tone even. He remembered having the same kind of reckless fire when he was younger.
Asic wanted Ejin to remember this feeling. There would come a day when he faced a challenge so great that it would be impossible to overcome without proper preparation. Only those who were ready could move past such obstacles.
"This is pathetic," Ejin gritted his teeth, cursing himself.
"Pathetic," he repeated, anger and frustration rising at his own helplessness. Asic finished putting on his gloves and patted the young man gently on the shoulder.
"Palon needs you, Ejin," he said.
"!?"
"There's a role only you can play. Palon is alone in that bathroom, fighting her fear. Don't leave her alone. Give her the courage she needs. That's your job."
"I… Palon needs me."
"Yes. Only you can do that for her. You do your part, and I'll handle the rest," Asic said. His words hit like a knife to Ejin's heart—a mixture of pain and purpose.
A job.
Asic was no longer a police officer; he was just a regular citizen now. He didn't have the duty to fight terrorists anymore. But his heart, his passion for justice—that hadn't changed since the day he took his oath. He would always be an officer at heart.
"Let the adults handle what kids can't. One day, you'll grow up to be someone others can rely on. But today is not that day," Asic said, pulling out a light machine gun. His expression changed; gone was the warm older brother, replaced by Agent 001 of the special tactical unit.
Asic sprinted out of the carriage. Every other passenger was cowering in fear, staying low to avoid stray bullets. He heard the shouts of conflict from the next car and crouched below human sightlines.
Not all of the train police had been captured. They were protecting the VIP passengers. The private compartments of those with the most expensive tickets had additional security, and these officers remained in place, unlike the lower level, which had already been overtaken.
The connecting door opened, and Asic saw a group of armed men threatening passengers.
BANG!
A bullet fired from Asic's light machine gun took them by surprise. The tall, armed men dropped one by one.
"Bastard!" One of the terrorists, a short man with blue skin, lost his composure at seeing his comrades fall. He opened fire wildly at Asic, dozens of rounds per second, leaving nothing but deadly holes in their path. The train police had been outmatched by the higher-grade weapons.
Amethyst eyes glinted. Asic moved steadily forward, aiming his machine gun. His bullets intercepted the terrorist's rounds mid-air, stopping them cold. Not a single bullet grazed Asic, nor did any bystanders get caught in the crossfire.
The short blue-skinned man gritted his teeth, continuing to fire. Asic moved forward, unfazed, closing the gap even as bullets flew at him.
"Is he crazy?! Why can't I hit him, damn it!" The terrorist couldn't comprehend what was happening. He wasn't missing—it was that his bullets never had a chance of reaching Asic.
Without special eyes to see the bullet paths and the uncanny precision to shoot them down, this kind of scene would have been impossible.
The secret lay in Asic's ammunition. He wasn't using metal bullets; instead, he was using hardened rubber rounds, resilient and elastic like slime. These rubber bullets could absorb impact, so even if they hit a civilian, the injuries would be minor. And when hitting key points on enemies, they incapacitated rather than killed.
"You bastard!" The terrorists all focused their firepower on Asic alone. He zig-zagged like lightning, evading their shots while returning fire with precise hits to the neck, chest, and forehead. Each one dropped like a bowling pin, the sequence completed without Asic blinking even once.
"Damn it," a terrorist cursed, not understanding how this guy could be so skilled.
"Suppressive fire! He may be good, but he can't take on all of us," one of the terrorists yelled, trying to rally his comrades to keep shooting. But it was no use.
Asic's eyes were special—he could see bullet trajectories clearly. Focusing even more allowed him to perceive everything in slow motion. He knew exactly where bullets would go before they even reached their target. He intercepted dangerous rounds with his own rubber bullets.
The terrorists were sweating, panicking from fear and confusion. One question haunted them:
When did he reload?
Since Asic had shown up, he must have fired at least two hundred rounds. His gun couldn't possibly hold more than 45 bullets per magazine, so when did he reload? The more they thought about it, the more terrified they became.
"What the hell is he?!"
BANG!
One bullet went straight to a terrorist's throat, and the over-200 cm man dropped instantly.
All the terrorists in this carriage had been taken down by rubber bullets. Every passenger there had witnessed what had happened.
'He's insane,' thought Ejin, who had been watching from behind out of concern. He was astonished, deeply impressed by Asic. The gentle older brother from earlier was now taking down terrorists without taking cover, standing against a dozen armed men.
He was like a real-life superhero. Was this the power of a tactical unit officer?
"So cool," Ejin muttered, admiring the man he had mocked only hours before. He had even boasted about putting Asic in his biography—how silly that seemed now. They weren't even close to being in the same league.
Asic swung his cane, transforming it into an L-shaped tonfa. Made from Cardanium, it weighed 960 grams and measured 57 cm. In his other hand, he held the machine gun.
'Four magazines left—180 rounds,' he thought, running into the next car, just as more terrorists appeared. They were drawn by the sounds of gunfire from the earlier skirmish.
Asic ran through a hail of bullets, using the rubber rounds to block those that might harm him or others. When he got close, he swung his tonfa with powerful force.
THUD!
The tonfa struck a terrorist's stomach, a dull crunch indicating broken ribs. The terrorist crumpled to the floor, tears streaming as he struggled to breathe.
"You bastard!" Another terrorist, seeing his ally go down, swung his rifle's bayonet. Asic spun, striking with the electrified end of his tonfa, hitting his opponent square in the chest.
Electricity surged from Asic's body into the tonfa, shocking the terrorist's nervous system. The man convulsed, losing all muscle control, collapsing unconscious.
Asic exhaled, his breath steaming in the cool air, his black hair slightly raised from static electricity. Lightning Asra energy coursed through his body, enhancing his muscle response and nerve reflexes.
"Lightning Asra—a special affinity," one of the terrorists whispered, realizing what they were up against.
Ever since the North Pole portal had opened, humans had developed Asra abilities. Each generation seemed to master them better—from enhancing physical strength and speed to wielding elemental abilities.
Cold, heat, psychic, light, wind, and lightning.
Lightning was among the rarest and most dangerous affinities.
"Alright, let's have an intelligent conversation," Asic spoke to the remaining terrorists for the first time.
"I have a proposal—one that benefits both of us."
"A proposal?!"
"It's simple. You surrender, and I take you into custody. No one gets hurt, I don't have to exert myself, and you get a reduced sentence. It's a win-win."
"You bastard!" The terrorist pulled the trigger in a blind panic, aiming directly at Asic's head. He was sure the bullet would pierce Asic's skull, but—
"*sigh*," Asic sighed. His tonfa spun, deflecting the bullets out the window, leaving only shattered glass. His amethyst eyes glowed faintly as he stared down the attacker, who was frozen, paralyzed by Asic's gaze.
It was like a predator locking onto its prey. Purple electricity ran along the length of the tonfa, and Asic stepped forward, striking his opponent in the stomach, knee, and shoulder in quick succession. The terrorist fell unconscious, without time to scream. It was over in a flash, too fast for anyone to react.
"I told you, if you surrendered, you wouldn't have to get hurt," Asic said, turning towards the four or five terrorists left. They looked at Asic with fear in their eyes. Despite having the advantage of numbers and war-grade weapons, they couldn't take down this man with just a tonfa and a civilian-grade gun.
"Shoot him!"
Gunfire erupted again. Asic tossed the tonfa into the air, grabbed his machine gun with both hands, and shot rubber bullets to counter the incoming rounds.
Click.
No bullets.
'Jam.' Asic didn't have time to fix the jam, so he threw the machine gun at a terrorist. Naturally, human instinct would focus on an object thrown directly at the face, and as their focus shifted, Asic drew his revolver from his waist, taking aim.
The revolver's rubber bullets were larger than those of the machine gun. When they hit the neck or chest, they caused severe pain and suffocation, knocking out the target quickly.
'You fool—you're done for, using that crappy revolver against a war-grade rifle. You're dead!' One of the terrorists smirked. The revolver only held six shots—there was no way he could match their firepower. Victory was assured. No matter how good his aim, a revolver was no match for an assault rifle.
While the terrorist was savoring his premature triumph, Asic fired the seventh shot from his revolver, hitting the man's chest.
"?!" The terrorist was stunned. He felt pain, his breath cut short, his face turning pale green.
He hadn't seen Asic reload. He'd counted six shots—but when did Asic load another bullet?
"Ugh," all the terrorists had been taken down, incapacitated by the rubber bullets. If those had been live rounds, they'd all be corpses. Asic walked past them, heading for the bathroom. He knocked softly, then whispered.
Palon opened the door, her eyes wide at the sight of Asic.
"You did great, Palon. Thank you for holding on," Asic said gently. Palon couldn't hold back her tears any longer. She burst into sobs, the fear finally overwhelming her. It had been too much for someone her age—being alone, trapped in that tiny bathroom, not knowing if or when she'd be found.
Finally, she had been rescued.
'Now for the others,' Asic thought, his eyes still sharp and ready. There were still many passengers being held hostage, and he knew that by now, the terrorists were aware there was someone on the train working against them.