Chapter 108: Zero—Chain (2)

The back of my head stung.

I ignored the gaze.

“Talk about tactlessness. Or just low empathy.”

I reached out, tearing off Ji-an’s restraints one by one, leaving only the initial cuffs.

Free of the full-body bindings, it was clear they’d locked her up without proper treatment.

“Sorry. You suffered because of me.”

Caught off guard by my apology, Ji-an’s eyes widened.

She quickly pushed it aside, smiling warmly.

“It’s okay. I promised to stay put. And I believed you’d come.”

“Right. I’m the one keeping promises.”

Thud-thud—

Footsteps approached from the corridor’s end.

I turned, stepping through the torn steel door from the cell.

In the long corridor’s center, a middle-aged man glared at me.

His eyes are fierce.

I nodded lightly.

“Long time, Warden.”

Zero—Chain’s warden stood, blocking the way, staring me down.

He looked like a typical bureaucrat, but the thick gray arm guards from wrist to elbow stood out.

Not mere guards—thicker than an adult’s thigh.

I advised, half-warning.

“Better step aside.”

“Jeong Ho-cheol. Thought I’d never see you again.”

One of the few who knew my unmasked face.

“Why pull this nonsense?”

His face darkened, not just from my danger.

“You said you’d live righteously at your release counseling. Your face, words, actions—were they all lies?”

He’d seen my change first, accepted it.

He’d cheered my conditional release, as this was a rehabilitation facility too.

His sense of betrayal was deep.

I casually picked my ear.

“Nah. Never said righteously. I said "uprightly.”

“Same thing.”

He swept an arm across the wrecked corridor.

“This is your upright life?”

“Hm.”

I stopped picking my ear.

I scanned the mess—wrecked corridor, sprawled guards, mostly unconscious, lightly injured.

I glanced back at Ji-an.

She met my eyes, grinning.

Turning to the warden, I said.

“Yeah, still on that upright path.”

“Freeing a Zero—Chain villain!”

Before his rage erupted, I raised a hand, cutting him off.

“Your reaction says she’s not a guest or witness. Clearly a prisoner, but I needed confirmation.”

I sighed, relieved.

Not sincere—closer to sarcasm.

“Was worried you’d flip later, claim misunderstanding. That’d look bad. Thanks for staying bastards.”

Lowering my hand, I counted on my fingers.

“Broke a promise, backstabbed, no explanation. I’m the one holding back—pretty great, huh?”

“What’s that mean?”

His genuine confusion drew a hollow laugh.

Not even a co-conspirator, just used.

No wonder he didn’t get the sarcasm.

Honest, diligent, but clueless.

“You’re just a cog to the state, not worth informing. No need to treat her like a guest, but I said don’t rough her up. Yet you locked her without trial.”

“The Association didn’t accept that. Trials can be skipped for heinous villains.”

“She’s a minor.”

I tossed it out.

That ended it.

He shut his mouth, shock clear on his face.

Minors couldn’t be held in Zero—Chain, no exceptions.

The top official not knowing meant higher-ups intervened.

“Ignoring conditions, procedures, even crossing me to lock her up—that’s the Association’s calculation. Political or Trait-based.”

I shrugged again.

“Enough reason to take her out.”

He stayed silent, tightening his arm guards.

His shocked face returned to its usual blankness.

I reacted casually, as expected.

“Knew you wouldn’t move.”

“Even if the process was unfair, leaving requires proper procedure.”

No talking sense.

I didn’t expect him to step aside.

“Not blaming your contradictory stance. That’s your job.”

Knowing he was like this, I wasn’t disappointed.

Just wanted to know why, feel less wronged.

I hoped he wouldn’t see me too badly.

“Let’s do our jobs.”

As the fight loomed, Ji-an whispered.

“Sir, he’s strong.”

I nodded lightly.

“I know.”

Pure combat power?

S-rank level, rare.

His defense-specialized Trait, if he stalled, even I couldn’t break through easily.

A far superior version of the bone-Trait villain from the MT.

When Ji-an’s Organization attacked Zero—Chain, the warden was a thorn.

In a quick-strike scenario, his stalling forced retreat.

She’d used spies to forge documents, pulling him and key forces away.

Without his absence, Zero—Chain wouldn’t have fallen so easily.

I breathed deeply.

Endless battles—bones creaked, muscles screamed.

My body was shredded.

I’d be bedridden a week.

A tough opponent now.

Ji-an, sensing it, slipped in.

“You okay? Should I handle it?”

She could snap her cuffs, use her Trait anytime.

She half-hoped for it.

Her strength was for me—this was its true purpose.

“No.”

Thump—

I pressed her head down.

“Break those cuffs, use your Trait, it’s a different story.”

I left the cuffs for a reason—they were my allowed minimum restraint.

As long as they stayed, I hadn’t crossed the line.

I believed I’d done nothing wrong, just righted their injustice.

I stood tall before the warden.

“No strength. Stay put. Keep the cuffs.”

“Okay…”

She had more to say, but my hand’s touch erased it.

She reached to overlap my hand, but I pulled away.

Sighing regretfully, she stepped back.

I drew my sword.

In my condition, he wasn’t easy.

Bare hands?

No way.

Hearing our exchange, the warden’s blank face cracked.

He took a stance.

Hiss—

Steam rose from his arm guards, swelling massively.

I added.

“I’m beat. I can't control my strength. Lose an arm or leg, tough luck.”

* * *

Boom! Crash!—

The building—no, the ground—shook like an earthquake.

The core’s battle engulfed floors, a warzone from two people.

No one could imagine fists causing it.

Or a strongman falling.

Zero—Chain’s walls, built for any impact, barely held.

Inside was carnage.

Amid rising dust, I sheathed my sword.

Click—

The warden collapsed.

“Seriously.”

I grumbled, running my hand through my hair.

“Just step aside.”

His style was off.

Stalling could’ve dragged it out twice as long.

But he fought aggressively, like he wanted to fall early.

“Fits you, though.”

He followed orders, even unfair ones, but not blindly.

His quick defeat was a protest against uninformed, rule-breaking higher-ups.

Silent till the end.

Staring at the ceiling, he asked?

“If I’d fought seriously, would you have stayed upright?”

“Tried, but I can't promise.”

If he’d truly blocked me, I might’ve gone dirty.

“That’s why.”

“I see.”

I gathered his arm guard fragments, placing them on his chest.

“Payment for the weekend choco pies.”

Leaving him, I headed out.

No guards attacked after—his word, maybe.

I was glad.

Knocking them out gently was exhausting, and there were too many.

Exiting, crossing three walls, I found unexpected faces.

“Didn’t see this coming.”

Expected heroes swarming from the Association.

Heroes were there, but far off, observing, not acting.

Instead, the Legal Department head, other bureau chiefs, and the Association president stood.

Not a fake—the real president.

Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, I sighed.

“Was courtesy, respect, decency, human rights so hard? Learned stuff. Or stuff you just know.”

No reply.

The president, hands on his cane, stared with sunken eyes.

Heavy silence.

He spoke.

“How’d you breach Zero—Chain so fast?”

“That’s what you care about? More than the warden or guards’ safety?”

Thought he was above this.

He came to learn why his high-tech, high-budget fortress fell to one man.

“Don’t worry. I used a cheat only I can.”

My flippant reply didn’t ease the tense air.

I was baffled.

Who should be mad here?

Uncrossing my arms, I said.

“You’ve got lots to say. So do I.”

I grabbed Ji-an’s shoulder, pulling her forward, then pushed her to So-hee, who’d crept closer.

“Watch her a bit.”

“Me?”

So-hee was startled.

So was Ji-an.

I knew their tension better than anyone here.

What choice?

No one else to trust.

Turning to the Association brass, I nodded.

“Let’s have an adult talk. Benefits us both.”

“Hypocrite.”

A chief muttered, loud enough for me and So-hee to hear.

My calm face twisted.

“Honestly, I don’t want any of you alive. But so what? A bad guy holding back like me is better than do-gooders doing bad, right?”

My low, menacing tone warned.

“Shut it. If I hadn’t dropped revenge, kept being a villain, you’d all be dead.”

The air grew heavier.

I repeated.

“I’m holding back. Let’s talk.”

A different meaning now.

“Think you’ve got other options?

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