Chapter 110: Silk and Sigil
Darkness breathed around them. No light, only the sound of flesh and breath...ragged, wet, desperate. The rhythm built and broke, the kind that blurred pain with pleasure until it stopped mattering which was which. Sweat dripped, limbs tangled, air thick with heat and salt.
Then a hard knock hit, metal on metal, shattering the quiet like a hammer through glass.
A low groan answered, rough with irritation, not lust.
"What?!"
"We need you out here! We got guests!"
"Guests? Goddammit—I'm coming!"
"Wish I was."
"Sorry, pretty boy, not this time. Get your ass out."
"Can I at least get dressed first?"
Light snapped on. Min was already pulling her pants up, her skin still glistening between her thighs. The man on the bed, short brown hair, carved muscle, eyes half-lidded with smugness, watched her like he wasn't ready to move.
"I could wait."
A pair of pants hit him square in the face.
"I already made the transfer. Tell your boss to increase your defenses. Gettin bored with holding back."
"Our favorite cocksmith still needs a few levels before he can pull that off. He's getting pissy about you breaking me so often. Think it's turning into an obsession—trying to build something that can actually keep up with you. Poor bastard."
Min tugged her shirt down, grin sharp enough to cut.
"Then tell him to hurry the fuck up—next time, I'm on top."
The door slammed behind her. The man on the bed exhaled, joints popping as he shifted. He could already picture his master's face when he reported another round of shattered hip brackets.
Outside, Min's smile was gone. Only the scowl remained.
"This better be good."
[You weren't even close anyway.]
Her boot came down on a glass bottle, shattering it underfoot as she marched.
"I'd swallow a bag of undead dick if it meant a fix. But I've tried everything. Breaking them's the only way I can finish."
[You should probably talk to someone about that.]
She snorted.
"I've talked with enough people. None survived it."
She knew herself. Always had. Violence was the only thing that stirred her blood. Everything else, soft words, gentle hands, all fell flat.
She turned the corner toward the main warehouse, still chewing her irritation, ready to punt a steel barrel across the lot. Then she saw them.
'What the fuck are they doing here?'
[Nothing good.]
Her spine straightened. The anger slipped off her face like a mask, aura dimming to nothing. She'd learned early how to hide that edge. Especially around them.
The Woon sisters didn't forgive disrespect.
And the one watching her now, smiling like a blade wrapped in silk, was the worst of them all. Yu-na. The witch of death.
The Woon sister cut through the dock like a chef's knife through rotten meat. Her aura pooled black and oily, making the air taste like burned rubber. Platinum hair framed a hard face, the purple dress clinging like lacquer. Club-ready, not for rust and salt. She moved with the slow, lethal confidence of someone who didn't bother to threaten. She simply killed with presence.
She reached the cluster and found Gregor and some of their men waiting. Opposite, Yu-na's entourage, slick suits, pale faces all milled around her. She didn't look at them; she looked through them.
"Now that all the pieces are gathered, listen up. I'm saying this once. All gangs are to stop open aggression in the city. Anyone who breaks that gets dealt with. Swiftly."
The line landed like acid. Min's jaw ground down to a snarl.
"And if someone farms on our turf—what? We roll over and piss ourselves?"
Yu-na didn't bother to meet her gaze. She flicked irritation like a shrug and turned away.
"Any trouble that starts now, the Woon Corporation will end it. Stay in your borders and play nice. Understood?"
Gregor's hand clamped Min's shoulder, a cold, steady arrest. He kept his face blank as the witch walked off.
"The Dead Hands will not be a problem, Ms. Woon. Send your father our regards."
His voice was flat, rehearsed.
No answer came from the witch or her men as they left, slick boots vanishing like they'd never been there.
Min tasted blood on her tongue from clenching her teeth. She let it settle, then barked orders.
"Spread the word. Nobody steps out of line until further notice."
A man hesitated, then tried to be practical.
"What about the boss's plan? Should we—?"
"Put cock in mouth and get out of my sight!"
Min's words were a whip. The man's spine folded in on itself.
"Yes, sir!"
They scattered like rats. Only the sea and gulls stayed. Min slammed a fist into the warehouse wall until her knuckles stung.
"Where the fuck is he? If some fish ate him, I'm going to skull-fuck his corpse."
Gregor stared at the horizon, as hollow as someone who'd been sleeping in shifts for weeks.
"If he does not hurry, he might not like what he comes back to."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He turned, eyes on the broken city.
"The Woon Corp is moving. This wasn't a social call. They are gearing up. Rumor says, the man in the tower is about to rank."
Min's eyes widened like gunshots.
"No shit? S-rank… he'll own the city. Which means—"
"Our plan dies before it starts."
They stood together, looking at the city's crumpled silhouette. The same thought sat heavy between them.
"Today sucks."
"Da."
"Seo-jin needs to come back."
"....Da."
----
Across the sea, buried in shadow, Seo-jin sneezed. Hundreds of spiderlings froze at once, a ripple through the black nest.
He rubbed his nose, scowling.
"You've been busy."
Lilid's voice came soft and crawling, brushing against the walls of his skull.
"You gave us much to work with."
He stopped cold. Eyes narrowed.
"Hold on… I did what now?"
Her laugh skittered through the dark like legs on wet glass, childlike, mocking, twisted.
"You look troubled, Broodfather. Come. Tell us your worries."
[She's toying with you, idiot. Get it together.]
The system's tone hit like a slap. Seo-jin inhaled slow, straightened, and pretended calm.
"No worries, just surprised. Your swarm swelled faster than I expected."
"Come, show us what swells."
He rolled his eyes but pushed forward through the chittering dark. Everywhere he looked, they moved, small bodies twitching, eyes glowing like beads of oil. By the time he reached her nest, he'd counted more than a thousand. Weak, E-rank at best, but numbers had their own weight.
Lilid waited in the heart of her web...naked, half-buried beneath a swarm of her own spawn. They crawled her body, spitting thread, winding pale silk over limbs and thorax.
"What are they doing?"
Seo-jin asked, stepping onto the web's sticky surface without hesitation.
"One prepares for battle."
She rose an arm so her brood could coil silk tighter.
"Our children weave armor for us. Shall we have them do the same for you?"
He started to wave her off—then paused. An idea flickered.
"Not for me, but my broodlings could use it."
Lilid's head tilted, posture sharpening.
"Your broodlings? We thought you were alone."
"The Broodfather is never alone."
Seo-jin stripped off his shirt. The queen's eyes followed the movement, her legs shifting, the glossy plates beneath her thorax clacking rapidly.
He turned his back. The twin growths there shuddered, teeth splitting open, their shrieks splitting the air. Wet chunks of meat and bile spilled to the floor, steaming. The queen's excitement turned to fascination as the mess began to move, reforming, shaping, knitting itself into limbs.
Pain rose first, fire leaking from his breath. Panic followed, his grin too wide, too sharp. Snare stepped out calm, eyes sweeping the chamber. Hex came last, blindfolded, trembling, silent.
Four shadows stood beneath their father. Seo-jin turned, eyes locked on the spider queen.
"Would you mind?"
Lilid blinked, shook as if surfacing from a deep sleep, and her gaze slid off the broodlings to settle on him. She noted how easily his little monsters threaded her web.
"Not at all. You surprise us, Broodfather. We thought your name was unique—who knew it carried such weight."
Spiderlings dropped from the canopy without orders, silk lines slicing the air. At a thought from Seo-jin, his brood pulled back, giving the spiders room to work. They moved obedient, careful, like trained hands clearing a table.
He inclined his head once to the queen, then his grin sharpened.
"The dwarves are mobilizing. They'll hit your borders soon. After the snake tribe's failed strike, they want this finished today."
"Perfect. We have grown tired of waiting. We hunger for release. Our young have already sealed the snakes' borders. If they stir, we will know."
The web throbbed underfoot; the air tightened. Bloodlight seeped from Seo-jin, a slow leak of pressure into the dark.
"Any movement from them during the attack?"
"None. The survivors haven't dared step beyond cover."
He let that sit, cold and simple.
"No matter what they muster, it ends by tomorrow. Every last one dead."
----
Everything was darkness. Thick, humid, and alive. The stench of burnt flesh clung to the air, oil fumes curling against the walls.
Then a spark cracked through the black. Green smoke hissed upward from an altar of blackened bone, leaving a trail that throbbed like a vein. Skulls stacked along its base began to scream, their mouths spilling sound instead of ash.
Words slithered between the cries, a language that wasn't meant for human mouths. Three voices spoke as one, ragged and drawn out, each syllable scraping across the walls like claws. The smoke coiled higher, thicker, twisting with faces that wailed and melted in its light.
The glow built to a fever pitch, until it cut through the dark enough to show what stood in the shadows.
Three faces. Three sets of serpents fangs.
Scales shimmered under the light, gold scarred black by age and war. The creature's necks coiled together, winding back to a single massive body, draped in the remains of the dead. Bone and sinew were woven into its hide, trophies and armor alike.
The chanting stopped. The air held still.
Then the thing inhaled. All three mouths opened as one, drawing in the smoke, swallowing the screams, devouring the light.
Only the eyes remained, three sets, green, burning brighter.
And brighter.
Until the flesh above each brow split open with a hiss. The scales peeled back, and fire crawled out from beneath. Lines of searing green carved themselves into the bone, twisting into jagged symbols that pulsed with life. The sigils flared once, twice, branding the serpent heads in unison.
The light swallowed the room whole, and when it faded, only the glow of those marks remained, three burning crowns etched into the dark.