Jihyeon was currently in a state of high agitation. Upon hearing the news of Min-ah’s kidnapping, he was seized by a fury that no one could restrain. His demeanor, reminiscent of someone discovering the murderer of their parents, was enough to make Seok-yeong feel an unprecedented sense of dread.

  It was only natural.

  Jihyeon became profoundly enraged whenever someone crossed the lines he had drawn. If those lines remained uncrossed, he would laugh off most things, but the moment they were breached, he transformed into a different person entirely.

  And one of those lines was Min-ah’s safety.

  Though he often spoke as if they had no significant relationship, Jihyeon was deeply concerned for Min-ah’s well-being. Perhaps it was a sense of responsibility, or perhaps it was love—even if he himself denied it.

  In reality, Min-ah was virtually equivalent to family to Jihyeon. When family was touched, Jihyeon became more ruthless than anyone. This time was no different.

  He would certainly not forgive those who had laid a hand on her. He might even act in ways that transcended Seok-yeong’s common sense. The Jihyeon that Seok-yeong knew was more than capable of doing so.

  Of course, he wouldn't kill. That was another line Jihyeon had set for himself. He had said that the moment he crossed that line, he would become a monster. Seok-yeong wanted to believe he wouldn't cross it.

  However, short of murder, Jihyeon would likely mobilize every option at his disposal. While it wouldn't be killing, Seok-yeong couldn't even imagine how cruel those acts might be.

  The mere thought of the possibilities terrified Seok-yeong. Because of this, he wanted to just let Jihyeon be. A dragon whose reverse scale has been touched cannot be stopped by anyone. Seok-yeong was no exception. In the worst-case scenario, he himself might become the test subject of that wrath.

  Nevertheless, Seok-yeong had to stop Jihyeon. No, he had to hold him back. He couldn't even begin to imagine the tragedies that would unfold if he didn't.

  In fact, it was a miracle that Jihyeon was even at the police station. He had brought in several berserkers today and had visited the station to handle some procedures. It was a stroke of miraculous timing, as the report of Min-ah’s kidnapping came in just as he arrived.

  Naturally, Jihyeon tried to move the moment he heard the news. However, the problem began when simultaneous reports of multiple berserk incidents reached Seok-yeong at the same time.

  A berserk incident was a major event in itself, but this time they were happening all at once. Moreover, there were reports that several people had already died before the calls even came in. In such a situation, Jihyeon was the only one they could rely on. Without him, there was no telling how much blood would be shed.

  That fact forced Seok-yeong to brave his fear and hold Jihyeon back. There was no other hope but Jihyeon. If others could stop them, he could permit Jihyeon to move as he pleased, knowing someone else would fill the void.

  But there was no one else.

  It was no exaggeration to say that the police’s deployable forces were decimated. If the Tools Jihyeon had previously suggested had been mass-produced and deployed, things might have been different, but the stubborn high-ranking officials still showed no sign of changing their minds.

  If things had gone according to the high-ranking officials' plans, perhaps they could have resolved the issue through those who had already used Tools, without the need for human experimentation. But as always, reality was cruel.

  The results seen so far only proved how foolish it was to rely on Tool users. Aside from Ha-hyeon, there were no other civilian collaborators left—specifically, those capable of operating in the field were virtually non-existent.

  Fieldwork required a certain level of preparation, but those who weren't prepared often failed to draw out the Tool's power correctly. They would collapse without even fulfilling their duties, often in a miserable fashion.

  If it ended in a mere defeat, it might have been manageable. Some were kidnapped or murdered. Terrified by these events, some even went berserk and caused incidents right inside the police station.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  With several such incidents occurring, the police now had effectively zero available forces. This was the result of the high-ranking officials’ useless stubbornness. All that remained were police officers who had to risk their lives against berserkers without any Tools of their own. If the Tools Jihyeon suggested had been mass-produced, this wouldn't be a problem, but regretting it now changed nothing.

  Perhaps the future would change, but the present would not.

  In such a situation, letting Jihyeon do as he pleased was impossible. Even if it meant using the nonsensical logic of sacrificing the few for the many, Seok-yeong had to send Jihyeon to the field. That was the will of the superiors, and Seok-yeong, to some extent, agreed. Of course, that was only possible because it wasn't his precious person on the line.

  And speaking coldly, in the current situation, it was the only way to minimize casualties.

  Yet, Jihyeon had no obligation. He wasn't a police officer, so it was only natural. There was no way to stop him if he chose to move as he wished. Jihyeon was merely a civilian collaborator.

  Furthermore, Min-ah’s kidnapping was also the work of Tool users. That, too, was a matter for the police, and the right to set priorities belonged entirely to Jihyeon. No matter what the higher-ups said, Jihyeon was not obligated to follow. Even if he did what he wanted, he was still doing the job the police couldn't. The only difference was the scale of the damage. That was where the value judgment lay.

  How vast is the difference between the death of someone you know and the death of a stranger? Unlike the fictional soldiers or police protagonists who could kill a loved one for the sake of an order, Seok-yeong knew Jihyeon was not that kind of person. To Jihyeon, the life of someone he knew was several times more important than the life of a stranger. He would be true to himself.

  That was why Seok-yeong, even as he held him back, didn't know what to do. He wasn't Jihyeon’s superior; they were merely in a collaborative relationship. Seok-yeong felt this reality acutely now.

  Of course, he was also Jihyeon’s greatest collaborator, and conversely, he had received the most help from Jihyeon. In fact, countless berserk-related incidents had been resolved by Jihyeon’s hand. They had merely been cleaning up the aftermath.

  So, he could only look to Jihyeon, even if Jihyeon prioritized his own interests.

  "Sigh... Fine. Then I'll settle this all at once before I go. Aside from where Ha-hyeon went, there are three other locations, right?"

  Jihyeon said this and told Seok-yeong to prepare the police to clean up the scenes. Seok-yeong’s face brightened at his words, as he hadn't expected Jihyeon to prioritize the citizens over Min-ah.

  However, Jihyeon’s expression was cold. Seeing it, Seok-yeong felt an ominous premonition.

  "I won't be held responsible if a limb or two goes flying off the berserkers this time. I don't have time, so I'm doing things differently than usual."

  Hearing Jihyeon’s words, Seok-yeong felt a momentary surge of fear at the murderous intent behind them. The usual, sly Jihyeon never spoke like this. But it seemed Min-ah’s kidnapping had enraged him beyond measure. After speaking, Jihyeon moved to the open area of the police station.

  Then, he closed his eyes and prepared something. Seok-yeong didn't know what it was, but Jihyeon’s uncharacteristic behavior felt almost sinister.

  "Phew..."

  Not much time had passed, but Seok-yeong felt as if an entire day were going by until Jihyeon opened his eyes. Jihyeon merely steadied his breathing. Then, with a long exhale, he reached his hand toward the sky as if sending something upward.

  Seok-yeong couldn't understand what it meant. All he saw were three objects flying into the air.

  The number was three—exactly the same as the number of ongoing incidents, excluding the one Ha-hyeon was handling. In that moment, Seok-yeong felt a chill. Simultaneously, he thought of the recent reporter murder case.

  He knew Jihyeon wasn't the culprit, yet he was terrified by the fact that Jihyeon could recreate it—or rather, something even greater. It meant Jihyeon now possessed military might comparable to a strategic weapon if he so desired. That fact simply terrified Seok-yeong.

  But Jihyeon had already finished his attack. All that remained was to wait for the results. Jihyeon waited for the reports to arrive, his impatience and irritation unconcealed. He likely wanted to rush off immediately, but perhaps out of consideration for Seok-yeong, he was suppressing his emotions to a painful degree.

  Fortunately, a call came to Seok-yeong’s phone shortly after. However, as he answered, Seok-yeong’s expression darkened. Naturally, the call was about the results.

  None of the berserkers were dead. Since Jihyeon had declared he wouldn't kill them, that was an expected outcome. However, it seemed that every single one of them had been severely injured. While limbs hadn't been blown off, they were far from unscathed. Jihyeon’s fury had shown no mercy.

  In normal circumstances, Jihyeon wouldn't have gone this far. To him, people getting hurt wasn't something he desired. But this time was different. Some of those who had gone berserk might end up with permanent disabilities. Even if they didn't, they would clearly be hospital-bound for a very long time.

  Yet, Jihyeon couldn't be held responsible. He was a collaborator, and Seok-yeong knew that handling it this way was actually the method that minimized overall damage.

  "When did you acquire this kind of ability?"

  That was the most Seok-yeong could ask. He couldn't say anything more. His voice was already trembling with fear.

  "Who knows. Anyway, I'm leaving now. I've done what I had to do, so don't stop me anymore."

  Jihyeon said only that and immediately launched himself into the air. He vanished in an instant, leaving Seok-yeong standing there alone. Now that the restraints were gone, Jihyeon would run wild like a runaway train.

  But Seok-yeong could say nothing. He could only sigh and head toward the scenes. There was nothing else the police could do.