The subterranean bay of the Western Executive Board’s inner sanctuary became an absolute pressure cooker. Ten thousand elite guards, encased in S-Rank Titanium Exosuits, stood frozen. Their heavy rail-rifles were raised, their knuckles white against the metal grips, but not a single soldier dared to pull a trigger. The sheer, light-absorbing presence of the aircraft carrier resting inside a solid granite mountain had broken their military logic.

Min-jae stood at the base of the carrier’s cargo ramp, his hands casually stuffed inside his cargo pockets, his bottomless obsidian eyes scanning the defensive lines with absolute indifference.

"Elena..." Major Cynthia Vance whispered from her elevated vantage point atop the command gantry. Her icy-blue eyes locked onto her younger sister, who stood proudly behind Min-jae’s right flank. Cynthia’s grip on her Rank-S Frost-Bite Void-Piercer sniper rifle didn’t waver, but her heart gave a heavy, conflicted thud. "You defected to an eastern anomaly? You brought the enemy straight into our central vault [1]?"

"They aren’t the enemy, Cynthia!" Elena called out, her midnight-blue uniform humming with raw spatial static as she stepped forward. Her emerald eyes held no fear, only a fierce, unshakeable conviction. "The Executive Board lied to us! They were going to sacrifice our entire vanguard sector to anchor a Pacific world gate! Min-jae didn’t destroy our fleet—he saved me from being human fuel [1, 2]!"

Chairman Bradley stepped to the edge of the command balcony, his face contorted in a mixture of aristocratic rage and panic. His S-Rank talent, Imperial Command, flared to life, projecting a heavy, invisible field of crushing gravity across the entire underground bay.

"Silence, you traitorous bitch!" Bradley roared, his voice amplified by the system network. He pointed a heavy, gauntleted finger straight at Min-jae’s forehead. "Ten thousand troops! All units, execute maximum fire protocol! Obliterate them where they stand! Fire!"

The order shattered the tension like a hammer to glass. Ten thousand automatic rail-rifles and heavy plasma cannons opened fire simultaneously. A blinding, continuous wall of supersonic tungsten rounds and blinding blue plasma beams converged on Min-jae’s single, stationary figure, lighting up the dim underground bay in a terrifying strobe light of raw kinetic destruction.

Every single bullet was perfectly aimed to turn him into a paste of flesh and bone.

Min-jae didn’t raise his sub-divine claymore to block. He didn’t even shift his footing by a fraction of an inch. He stood perfectly still, offering Bradley an empty, eerie smile as the storm of lead and plasma hit his skin.

The moment the first wave of ten thousand rounds made contact, his SSS-Rank passive, Vajra Retribution - Absolute Counter, detonated with a reality-warping roar beneath his pores.

[Received 380,000 points of High-Density Kinetic and Elemental Damage.]

[SSS-Rank Talent Active: ’Eternal Vajra Deity Body’ — Damage negated completely. Health Pool: 100/100.]

[SSS-Rank Passive Active: ’Vajra Retribution’ triggers 150% True Damage amplification!]

[Reflecting 570,000 points of True Damage back to the firing squads!]

Boomm.!

A catastrophic, blinding golden-crimson counter-force exploded outward from Min-jae’s skin like a literal shockwave of absolute law. The 570,000 points of True Damage traveled instantly back along the trajectories of the ten thousand bullets, locked onto the soul signatures of every single soldier who had pulled a trigger.

What followed was an instantaneous, gruesome mass-slaughter.

The True Damage completely ignored their S-Rank titanium exosuits, personal energy shields, and defensive bunker fortifications. The moment their bullets hit Min-jae, the front four rows of the military vanguard—over four thousand elite guards—gasped in unison as their chests and internal organs violently collapsed inward from the self-inflicted backlash. Blood sprayed across the concrete walls in a massive, sickening mist as four thousand heavily armored bodies dropped dead simultaneously, their automatic rail-rifles clattering onto the floor plates.

"Agh! My heart! My lungs!"

"Cease fire! Stop shooting! The armor isn’t stopping it—!"

"He’s a mirror! He’s an unmoved mirror!"

The remaining six thousand guards fell into a frantic, chaotic frenzy, scrambling backward over the bodies of their fallen comrades, their weapons pointing at the ground in pure, unadulterated primal horror. They realized the absolute, terrifying truth: the harder they hit this teenager, the faster they would destroy themselves.

"Ji-a, Elena. Clear the gantry," Min-jae commanded smoothly, his voice carrying an icy calm through the echoing bay.

"With pleasure, Monarch," Yoo Ji-a purred, her figure instantly blurring into a streak of violent purple static.

Swoosh!.

Ji-a and Elena executed a coordinated, spatial-twilight assault. Elena slammed her palm flat against the air, her Void-Anchor Distortion creating a temporary spatial shortcut that instantly warped Ji-a straight onto the elevated command gantry, bypassing the defensive stairs entirely.

Ji-a appeared right in front of the remaining command officers, her Void-Valkyrie’s Crescent Fang crackling with light-devouring twilight lightning. She executed a rapid, 360-degree sweeping strike—her Void-Crescent Execution. The black wave of void energy sliced through the heavy steel railings and the titanium armor of fifteen high-ranking tactical officers, their health bars instantly zeroing out as they dissolved into dark system ash in a fraction of a millisecond.

Major Cynthia Vance reacted with elite, supersonic speed. She didn’t panic. She leaped backward off the collapsing gantry, her long, silver-white battle-braid trailing in the air as she mid-air raised her massive Frost-Bite Void-Piercer rifle, locking her optical scope straight onto Min-jae’s forehead once more.

"I don’t know what kind of freak reflection you have, kid," Cynthia whispered, her finger tightening around the trigger. "But my S-Rank frost rounds target the underlying space, not the skin [1, 2]!"

Release!

Before she could pull the trigger, a blinding three-foot arrow of silver starlight hissed from the carrier’s upper deck. Han Seo-yoon stood tall, her voluptuous curves tightening against her dark silver gear as her Stellar Void Annihilator hummed with raw cosmic energy. Her arrow didn’t strike Cynthia’s body; it precisely hit the barrel of the azure sniper rifle mid-air, the cosmic implosion violently warping the steel weapon and knocking Cynthia off balance, causing her to land heavily on her boots on the concrete floor, her weapon disabled.

Min-jae walked slowly through the pile of four thousand dead guards, his boots landing firmly on the blood-slicked concrete, his hands remaining casually inside his cargo pockets. He stopped right in front of the disarmed silver-haired sniper ace, his bottomless obsidian eyes looking down at her with complete indifference.

"Your sister told you the truth, Cynthia," Min-jae said, his voice a low, smooth baritone that sent a deep shiver down her spine. "Your Executive Board is dead. Your military vanguard belongs to me now. Pick up your broken rifle and step behind my flank, or you can join your Chairman in the ash pile [1, 2]."

Cynthia looked from Min-jae’s unbothered, flawless face to her younger sister Elena, who was nodding frantically with an expression of pure reverence. She looked across the bay, where Han Chae-won was already running around, her hands raised as her Spatial Devour skill began to vacuum up thousands of high-tech exosuits, rail-rifles, and the entire sanctuary’s armory into her infinite void inventory.

The Western superpower’s final resistance had been completely dismantled in less than two minutes.