**October 31, 2026. Present Day.**
When Beto and Ji-won burst into the conference room seeking refuge, they found eight people seated around a large table. The individuals were clearly important—their posture, their expensive clothing, the way they commanded the space all spoke of power.
But all of them wore masks.
Elaborate masks that concealed their identities completely, leaving only their body language and voices to suggest who they might be.
The man at the head of the table—the one who had identified himself as Mr. Z but was known to this group as "Joker"—finished his sentence as the two fugitives stumbled in.
"—which is why we need to recover the stolen items before the Raccoons can distribute them. The Super League final in June will provide the perfect—"
He stopped mid-sentence as Beto and Ji-won entered, blood-stained and desperate.
"Well," Joker said from behind his ornate mask, "this is unexpected."
The other seven masked figures turned to look at the intruders. Based on their body language and the snippets of conversation Beto and Ji-won could hear, these were no ordinary criminals:
The Leader of the Buccaneers Gang—one of the most powerful pirate organizations controlling sea trade.
The Leader of the Pirate Gang—a rival faction with influence across multiple continents.
The Leader of the Italian Ultras Mafia—the syndicate that controlled most of Europe's underground economy.
The Chief of Defence Staff of the UXA—the highest-ranking military officer in the nation.
The Chief of Defence Staff of the Qing Empire—representing one of the world's most powerful military forces.
The Chief of Defence Staff of the Great Middle East—controlling vast military resources across multiple nations.
And the President of S.W.O.R.D.—a secret organization whose very existence was denied by most governments.
Eight of the most powerful people in the criminal and military worlds, gathered in one room.
And Beto and Ji-won had just crashed their meeting.
Beto let go of Ji-won's hand.
Without a word, without hesitation, he walked directly toward the Leader of the Buccaneers Gang.
The masked man barely had time to react before Beto's hand touched his shoulder.
Fire erupted—not visible flames at first, but heat so intense that it bypassed burning entirely and went straight to incineration. The man's body turned to charcoal instantly, the cellular structure collapsing as every molecule of moisture evaporated in a microsecond.
What remained was a blackened husk that crumbled when it hit the floor.
"1/8," Beto said quietly.
The room exploded into chaos.
The remaining six masked figures scrambled for weapons. Several produced guns—clearly they'd come to this meeting prepared for potential violence.
Gunfire erupted.
But Beto was already moving.
His speed, enhanced by vital energy and honed through years of combat, made him a blur. He appeared next to the Leader of the Pirate Gang before the man could fully draw his weapon.
Another touch. Another instant cremation.
"2/8."
The Chief of Defence Staff of the UXA managed to get off three shots. All of them hit Beto center mass, punching through his torso.
Beto's regeneration kicked in immediately, cells multiplying to replace the destroyed tissue even as he moved. He grabbed the military officer's arm, and fire consumed flesh and bone.
"3/8."
They tried to coordinate, to focus fire, to use their superior numbers. But Beto had spent three years being burned alive in a laboratory. Pain was meaningless. Injury was temporary. And his fire was hotter than anything they'd ever encountered.
The Chief of Defence Staff of the Qing Empire. "4/8."
The Chief of Defence Staff of the Great Middle East. "5/8."
The President of S.W.O.R.D., who tried to use some kind of energy shield device. It melted before Beto's flames even touched him. "6/8."
The Leader of the Italian Ultras Mafia, who made a desperate run for the door. Beto caught him halfway across the room. "7/8."
Seven bodies. Seven piles of ash and charcoal. Seven of the most powerful people in the world, dead in less than thirty seconds.
Only Joker remained, still seated calmly at the head of the table.
Beto used his speed to close the distance, appearing directly in front of Joker with his hand already extended.
He placed his palm on Joker's chest.
Fire erupted, the same devastating heat that had killed seven people in rapid succession.
"8/8," Beto said, turning away.
Then he heard laughter.
Joker stood up from his chair, his entire body now covered in a black, rough substance that looked like obsidian. Where Beto's hand had touched, the material had been scorched but not penetrated.
"Impressive display," Joker said, his voice slightly muffled by the black covering. "Seven confirmed kills in under a minute. Your efficiency is remarkable."
He flicked his finger casually.
The air itself seemed to tear apart. A blade of compressed wind, sharp enough to slice through matter at the molecular level, shot toward Beto faster than sound.
Beto dodged, but the wind blade carved through the wall behind him like it was made of paper, leaving a perfectly smooth cut several inches deep.
"But you'll find I'm considerably more difficult to kill than my associates," Joker continued.
Before Beto could respond, the door burst open.
A figure in tactical gear rushed in—Joker's private bodyguard, responding to the chaos.
Ji-won intercepted him immediately, her hand moving to her enchanted katana. "Go," she told Beto. "I'll handle this one."
She and the bodyguard tumbled out into the corridor, leaving Beto alone with Joker.
The corridor was narrow, limiting mobility, but the bodyguard didn't seem concerned. He moved with the confidence of someone who had never lost a fight.
He rushed at Ji-won with inhuman speed—so fast that he seemed to teleport, appearing directly in front of her with a blade aimed at her throat.
The blade stopped.
Not because Ji-won had blocked it physically, but because it simply... slowed. As if moving through increasingly thick air.
The bodyguard's eyes widened in confusion behind his tactical mask.
Ji-won's katana flashed, and the bodyguard's head separated from his shoulders with a clean cut. His body collapsed, blood pooling on the expensive carpet.
**Narrator:** What the bodyguard hadn't understood—what most opponents never understood until it was too late—was Ji-won's technique. She used Vitra to create a sphere of influence around herself: twenty inches in diameter, seven feet high. Within this space, she saturated the air with her own vital energy, creating a domain where she had absolute awareness and control. Anything that entered her sphere was immediately detected—every movement, every attack, every threat. And more importantly, the closer an object came to Ji-won's body, the slower it moved, as her vital energy became increasingly dense near her physical form, creating layers of resistance like moving through water that gradually became as thick as concrete. A bullet would slow down enough for her to dodge. A blade would lose its cutting force before it reached her skin. The bodyguard's superhuman speed meant nothing when physics itself became her weapon. With the enchanted sword, she'd expanded this technique to its limits—a five-meter radius, ten feet high, active continuously without draining her reserves. Within her domain, she was nearly untouchable. Only something moving at the speed of light could bypass her defense, and nothing except actual light moved that fast because achieving light speed would require infinite vital energy—which would kill the user long before they reached that velocity. The bodyguard had rushed into her domain with confidence and died without understanding what had killed him. His corpse didn't even know it was dead yet.