Fragments

Ch.21 - Guildmaster

Min-jun took a defensive stance, meanwhile the Reaper shrouded in mystery covered his heavily bleeding nose. After the warning was uttered, the area fell into such indescribable quiet, even the tiny droplets of blood splattering against the ground echoed. "Man," the spiky-haired Reaper sighed, "you really can't have any fun, can you?"
Fully focused on potential combat, Min-jun stayed silent.
The man's hand lowered from his nose, which was fully healed, any leftover blood staining his hand being absorbed into his skin. "Guess I should've figured, after watching you for so long… You're not the type to joke around. Well, whatever. I'll go with it for now, even if that isn't my style."

"So you're ready to talk?" Skipping another potentially off-topic discussion, Min-jun laid his question bare. Guardians were given a report detailing the strange man's potential ability as "bone manipulation" a few days ago… What Min saw extended much further, but he couldn't speak to his comrades about it.

"Yeah, yeah… But I'll only guide you in the right direction, don't get your hopes up."

"..? Why?" Slowly calming down, his stance becoming relaxed and voice curious, Min-jun didn't understand the refusal.

"If I told you everything, you'd make up some plan and storm the cause as quickly and efficiently as possible… I'm not stupid, I know how you operate, and you're not ready."

"..." Though Min didn't agree and wished to digress, he stopped himself, his eyes lowering towards the dirty ground. The man's reasoning was disturbingly logical… It pointed out a giant, glaring flaw in Min-jun's mindset he never considered – dealing with everything quickly and head-on wasn't always the best.

"What I told you before in that little story you punched me for… It was half right. You probably lived a normal life here, and you weren't alone. But right now, you're the newest one, and all your predecessors are long gone."

"Newest one? What, so I'm from a production line?" In cynical disbelief, Min-jun asked a rhetorical question, knowing no answer would be provided.

"Don't trust the Guild… That's my biggest hint," the man continued. "You wanting to be a Guardian, your combat knowledge, the Guildmaster's sister being in your team… Those aren't coincidences."

"...huh?" As Min-jun listened and instantly connected past events with the provided information like puzzle pieces, the Reaper turned away and slowly left. "Don't tell me… Yin?" The girl's unapproachable nature, Min-jun thought, was simply anxiety and privilege. After all, she seemed to accept it later on and even began helping him out… Was it all a lie?
He didn't even know how to feel, emotions mixed into an incomprehensible mess that made him only desire to isolate his problems from others further. It took a while for him to stand up and leave, just when a person with flowing, long white hair hiding around the corner swiftly sprinted off before she'd be found out…

"You'll be the one to destroy this city," the mysterious man concluded, his mission a successful one. "Your plan's being carried out, mom… Are you proud of me?"

In an oval room illuminated only by the dark blue light of an excessively large TV screen, men and women sat gathered around a table. Spanning across several days, it was a meeting of the heads and leaders of humanity's cities, where the bleak future would be discussed, hidden from the prying eyes of a certain, mighty Reaper…
And the topic the most influential people in the world would soon discuss concerned the Guild, which ruled Hinansho.
"Guildmaster Yang," an older man with a gray mustache addressed a person seated at the opposite end of the massive table, who relaxedly leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed, like he owned the place. "It's time for you to explain your actions… That means both the "project" and your management of Hinansho." There were small triangular signs placed in front of every attendant, the mustached man's one wrote "London", and next to him was an empty seat for Ecclesia, a now destroyed city before regarded as the last hope of survival.
The spot remained there unoccupied, serving as a symbol of the dire situation.