Quant let out a chuckle, low and amused.
"You're still underestimating me—even knowing I'm a Ranker?" His eyes gleamed with playful menace as he released the Green April.
He casually dusted off his hands and turned to stroll alongside Shibisu, who was still catching his breath.
"So," Quant asked, as if they were out for a walk, "what's your move after the surprise attack fails?"
Shibisu's eyes narrowed. We'll go with Plan B.
Without answering, he bolted in the opposite direction.
Quant didn't chase. Instead, he grinned and called out, "I'll give you a two-minute head start. Generous of me, don't you think?"
The announcement rang through the corridor. The Regulars scattered in a rush.
Somewhere nearby, a countdown began ticking down.
Anaak slipped inside the elevator, panting from the last exchange, but focused. The button for the top floor glowed as the doors slid shut.
Elsewhere in the hallway, Khun walked with practiced calm.
Shibisu said, "We've basically won already, right? Once Anaak crosses the bridge, the game's over."
Khun didn't smile. His gaze was fixed ahead. "Do you really think a Ranker would play fair without a backup plan?"
Three... two... one.
Quant's voice was gone. He had vanished—again.
Khun's eyes narrowed. "Time's up. Everyone, to your positions!"
They scattered like trained units. On the staircase leading to the exit bridge, Regulars formed a formation—each in place, every movement practiced.
"It'll take Anaak at least ten minutes to reach the bridge," Khun muttered, raising his Lighthouse. "Quant has no choice but to take the stairs. That means one thing: this is the only path left to intercept him."
"Hold him here for at least five minutes," he ordered. "That's all we need."
Suddenly, a voice echoed from below.
"Ganging up on me at the stairwell?" Quant's voice teased from the darkness. "So your 'it' is heading to the exit after all…"
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed like a heartbeat.
"I suppose I'd better go follow her."
His tone shifted—playful to predatory.
"But first, allow me to give you a little lesson."
A pulse of Shinsu rippled through the stairwell as Quant stepped into view.
"Scouts are the first into danger. We're outnumbered, exposed, expected to survive and report."
He raised his hand. The air around him shimmered with compressed Shinsu.
"So what do we do, when we're thrown into the lion's den?"
A sudden burst of Shinsu—then he vanished.
"Where did he go?!" someone yelled.
"Is he invisible?!"
Eyes scanned wildly. There was no movement, no presence. Just tension—and the sound of racing footsteps, echoing from nowhere.
---
Two Regulars swept the stairwell, eyes darting into every shadowy corner.
Suddenly, without warning, Quant materialized behind one of them. His boot connected with a sharp thud against the man's back, sending him sprawling forward.
Before the second Regular could react, Quant's fist drove into his stomach. The man doubled over, gasping for air.
Above, two more Regulars leaned over the railing and hurled spears down the shaft. The weapons whistled through the air—but Quant was already gone from their line of fire.
When one desperate attacker lunged in with a punch, Quant appeared beside him, caught the fist at the wrist, and twisted. The punch faltered; the attacker crumpled as Quant flipped him aside like a rag doll.
Shinsu blasts followed, crackling against the stone walls, but they left Quant untouched. He wove between the attacks, a ghost in the dim light.
A larger Regular leapt down the stairs with a thunderous crash, the impact cracking the steps beneath him. Quant paused just long enough to sidestep the tremor.
The big man roared and launched a reckless flurry of strikes—fists and elbows flying in brutal arcs. Yet Quant flowed around each blow, his movements precise and unhurried.
"You playing Scout?" he taunted.
In an instant, Quant blinked out of sight. The staircase grew silent.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared behind the larger Regular, his fist slamming into the man's spine. The Regular collapsed, unconscious, at Quant's feet.
"Stay down for a while," Quant said calmly, tossing the man aside.
More Shinsu shots rained down, but Quant simply strode through them, unphased.
Within moments, every Regular who had dared intercept him lay strewn along the stairwell—knocked out cold or gasping on the ground.
Quant paused in the quiet aftermath, brushing dust from his jacket.
"Confidence without skill," he murmured. "Falls faster than you'd ever expect."
Then he vanished again into the shadows, leaving only echoes of his laughter behind.
---
"I'm sorry. The stair squad has already been defeated."
The message came through, quiet and grim.
Anaak paused mid-step as the news reached her. The voice over the Lighthouse continued:
> "Soon, their 'it' will be at the top of the stairs."
Elsewhere, panic began to rise.
Shibisu groaned. "Seriously? What now, Khun? I know—Lauroe! He can stall—"
"Lauroe's asleep," Khun cut in sharply. "Right where he was at the starting line."
"What?!"
Khun pushed his hair back and exhaled. "I reviewed his records during the Light Bearer training. He's strong enough to pass this test without lifting a finger. He knew it, and acted accordingly."
Meanwhile, Quant had already identified Anaak's path. The bridge she was headed for—it was the only possible exit.
He'd obliterated Shibisu's distraction squad with barely any effort, clearing the stairs with an almost casual efficiency.
Two minutes to give them their lead.
Three minutes to tear through the steps and Regulars.
Two minutes to use a Quick-Skip and appear at the bridge before anyone else.
Too easy.
Quant exhaled through his nose as he crouched behind one of the stone pillars. His presence vanished into the shadow, as if he'd never been there.
'They're too slow,' he mused. 'Just as expected.'
A few minutes later, footsteps echoed softly down the stone bridge. Khun arrived at a relaxed pace, Lighthouse glowing softly at his side. He glanced around.
No sign of Quant.
"Good," Khun muttered. "He hasn't arrived yet. I can still pull this off."
He opened his Lighthouse interface and reviewed the timing. His plan was simple—calculated with precision and a layer of deception only he could pull off.
When Anaak arrived, he'd hide her beneath the bridge using the Lighthouse's platform function. Then, when Quant showed up, Khun would pretend she had already jumped off the edge, bluffing that Anaak had mastered body enhancement techniques and escaped.
If Quant took the bait, he'd leap after her—believing the only way to secure victory was by chasing her into the void.
Everything would depend on perfect timing and Anaak's trust.
Moments later, Anaak appeared on the bridge.
She stopped short, seeing Khun standing calmly ahead.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Khun turned, barely looking at her. "You're late. Get on."
Anaak glanced around. No enemies in sight. No allies either. She was alone.
But the finish line—the edge of the bridge—was right there.
Without another word, Anaak darted forward, ignoring Khun's command.
"Wait—!" Khun shouted.
But Anaak wasn't listening. Her instincts as a Wave Controller and a Fisherman had merged: move fast, strike hard, seize victory. She smirked to herself, already imagining the win.
That's when she saw it.
A silhouette flickered into view, bathed in the dim golden glow of the Lighthouse light behind her.
Too late.
Quant stepped from the shadows, and before she could even react—
Snap.
He plucked the badge from her chest like a leaf from a tree.
Anaak stumbled, blinking in disbelief. She hadn't even seen him move.
The announcement echoed across the arena:
> "Team A, your test has ended."
Quant held up the badge and smiled faintly. "Not bad," he said. "But still too slow."
Behind him, Khun stood frozen.
His plan had failed—completely.
Not because it was flawed.
But because Anaak refused to follow it.
---
The atmosphere in the waiting room was heavy. The walls seemed to press in around them, thick with silence and disappointment.
Everyone from Team A had gathered again, sitting or leaning quietly around the dim-lit chamber. No one spoke at first.
Then Khun stepped forward, his expression unusually subdued. He looked down at his hands before speaking.
"...It's my fault," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of self-blame. "I underestimated his speed. I was so sure of myself when I stepped up as leader."
His gaze dropped further, filled with regret.
"I ruined everything. It was my suggestion to capture their 'it.' I thought we could outwit a Ranker. I'm sorry. I led us into failure."
Shibisu stood up, crossing his arms as he gave Khun a firm look. "Hey, cut that out. You don't owe us an apology. Right, guys?"
A petite girl with sharp yellow hair nodded quickly. "Your strategy was amazing, Khun."
"Yeah," another added. "You actually gave a Ranker a hard time. That's no small feat."
"There's no way Team B's strategy will be better," someone else chimed in. "Yours was solid."
"Exactly. Even if we lost, we gave it everything."
"You were a real leader."
Khun looked up slowly, masking his emotions behind a faint, practiced smile. His blue eyes still shimmered with disappointment, but the support from his team softened the sting.
"...Thanks, Shibisu. Everyone."
The moment passed in quiet understanding.
Even in defeat, they'd earned each other's respect.
Outside, the signal echoed through the speakers:
> "Team B, report to the staging area."
It was their turn now.
The test wasn't over.