Yamato Empire High Command.

A circle of Yamato’s top brass stared at the screen, eyes wide, brains lagging a beat behind what they’d just seen.

All they’d caught was a split-second stutter in the footage—

—and then half the Infernals were down.

"What the hell just happened?!" Ryuji Takahashi’s face darkened, ugly with disbelief.

"No idea! The feed froze for a second. We didn’t even see them make a move, and the Infernals just—died!"

"Damn it. Not now." Takahashi slammed a hand down. "Get the signal transmission center on the line. Now!"

"Takahashi-san," one official said hoarsely, "the biggest problem isn’t the lag. It’s that they can kill Infernals."

That single sentence sucked the air out of the room.

To Yamato, Infernals were a disaster—walking extinction. And yet those monsters had just been erased like they were nothing.

The psychological blow was catastrophic.

They’d genuinely believed they could use the Infernals to kill Fallen Star Squad. They’d even thrown hundreds of thousands of people in as bait to make sure it worked.

And instead... they’d just delivered the enemy a gift basket.

"I don’t believe it!" one official snapped, half-collapsing onto the table, face inches from the screen. He sounded on the verge of breaking. "Something’s wrong. There are still dozens of Infernals left! Burn them! Burn them to death!"

Maybe the Infernals didn’t hear him—

—but on-screen, the remaining Infernals suddenly erupted in flames. A rolling tide of terrifying fire surged toward Ethan’s group.

The spectacle was huge.

The intimidation was real.

And then dozens of daggers flashed.

The last batch of Infernals froze mid-motion—locked in place for a heartbeat—

—and toppled over.

This time, the Yamato command staff saw it clearly.

It was the leader. The one in front.

He’d done it.

And somehow, seeing it was worse than missing it.

Those terrifying Infernals—creatures that made nations tremble—were getting instant-killed like ants. No struggle. No resistance. Not even a chance to fight back.

"Ghk..." Someone swallowed loudly.

The entire room did, almost in sync.

"How... what do we do, Takahashi-san?" a voice cracked. "Even Infernals aren’t enough!"

"As if I know!" Takahashi snapped, and for once the panic in his own voice was impossible to hide.

A hesitant suggestion rose from the back of the room.

"Then... we beg?"

Takahashi whirled on him. "Bastard! Ishikawa—do you hear yourself?! The Yamato Empire is going to beg a handful of Atlas Federation types?!"

"Exactly!" someone else shouted. "I’d rather commit seppuku than beg those Atlas Federation people!"

A wave of heated agreement followed, righteous and furious.

Ichigo Ishikawa’s face twisted. "Seppuku, seppuku—every day it’s seppuku!" he barked. "If cutting your belly solved anything, I’d do it right now just to shut you up!"

He jabbed a finger at the screen, shaking with anger.

"The problem is keeping Yamato from being wiped off the map. As long as we live, what’s wrong with begging?!"

"And if you beg, you think they’ll let us go?" someone shot back. "You’re dreaming. Compounds have begged already—what happened? They still got wiped out."

He spat the words like poison.

"Those people are demons. Begging won’t work."

"I have an idea," another official said suddenly.

Everyone turned on him at once. "What?"

"We should try contacting the Atlas Federation leadership," he said, voice tight but steady. "They’ve always pushed restraint. In a crisis like this, they might prefer cooperation over escalation. If they learn what these people are doing, they may step in and rein them in."

"That... might actually work." Another official nodded fast. "From what I know, the Atlas Federation leadership would probably condemn an operation like this."

"Good," Takahashi said immediately, seizing on it like a rope thrown to a drowning man. "Do it. Have the satellite control center contact the Atlas Federation satellite command."

"Yes!"

Atlas City’s compound...

Maxwell and the rest of the Federation’s top brass watched Ethan erase dozens of Infernals in an instant, and all of them unconsciously swallowed.

"Ethan’s getting stronger again," someone murmured.

"Of course," another man said. "I heard from that kid Rowan—Ethan’s group killed hundreds of Infernals in Nova City and got hundreds of insanely high-tier crystal cores. With that kind of haul, their strength was bound to jump."

Charles’ eyes gleamed. He leaned toward Maxwell. "General Kane, you’re close with Ethan. Can you find a way to get a few of those cores from him? Atlas City’s short on high-tier combat power."

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Don’t even think about it. We should be grateful he isn’t robbing us. And you want to get high-tier cores out of him? In your dreams."

"I didn’t say take them," Charles protested. "I said trade. We offer other resources, swap fairly."

Maxwell gave him a flat look. "And what resources do you think are worth cores that high-tier?"

"Uh..."

"And even if we got them," Maxwell added, "we couldn’t use them."

"...Yeah," Charles muttered, instantly deflated.

"Actually," Gabriel cut in, eyes sharp, "I’ve got an idea."

Maxwell turned. "Let’s hear it."

"We’ve been obsessed with synthesizing crystal cores," Gabriel said. "Why don’t we also research how to decompose them?"

A few faces shifted. "You mean...?"

"Take a high-tier crystal core and break it down into multiple lower-tier cores," Gabriel said, warming to it. "That might not help us directly, but it would definitely help Ethan."

He nodded toward the screen. "Those Infernal cores are probably too high-tier. Outside of Fallen Star Squad, I doubt anyone in Fallen Star City can even use them. They’re probably just sitting there collecting dust."

"If we can split one high-tier core into multiple usable ones, that solves the bottleneck. And if we hand Ethan that research result—proactively—I’m willing to bet he’ll like it."

Gabriel’s mouth twitched. "And with Ethan’s personality... if we do him a real favor, there’s a decent chance he tosses us a core or two as repayment."

The room brightened. People started thinking fast, exchanging looks.

"That could work," Maxwell said, nodding once. He sounded decisive now.

He knew Ethan well enough: the guy acted like a bandit, sure—but he wasn’t heartless. And he hated owing favors. If you did right by him, he’d usually pay it back.

Maxwell didn’t hesitate.

"Send the order," he said. "Tell the research center to drop everything else and start working on crystal core decomposition immediately."

"Yes, sir!"

Right then, a soldier jogged in at a near-run.

"General—report from satellite command. Yamato Empire Prime Minister Ryuji Takahashi is requesting a direct connection with you!"

"Takahashi?" Maxwell’s brows knit. "What does he want with me?"

Charles laughed. "Come on, General Kane. Isn’t it obvious? Just look at the screen."

Someone else snorted. "Yeah—kid’s terrified. Fallen Star Squad scared him stupid."

"Can’t blame him," another said. "Infernals getting one-shot? If he isn’t scared, he’s not human. He’s probably calling to beg us to pull Fallen Star Squad back."

"So do we take it?"

Maxwell’s smile turned sharp. "Take it. Why wouldn’t we? A chance like this to slap them in the face doesn’t come often."

He waved at the soldier. "Tell satellite command to patch him through."

"Yes, sir!"