The minute Tanjiro issued the orders, the reluctant team fractured into their assigned roles, driven solely by the fear of their worlds resetting.
"Fine. Interception it is," Gojo announced, adjusting his blindfold with a theatrical sigh. "Just try not to mess up the clean kill, Jin-Woo-kun."
"Focus on efficiency. The time is critical," Jin-Woo replied, the daggers in his hands already dissolving back into shadow. He didn't need physical weapons for this.
The second Scrapper Behemoth was closer than the first, a monstrous, rattling war machine tearing through the metallic ruins.
Gojo took a deep breath, and the air around him warped, condensing into a swirling vortex. He wasn't using the attack. He was using the concept of the attack. "Cursed Technique: Blue!"
The Behemoth, still fifty feet away, suddenly experienced gravity in reverse. The sheer force of attraction, an infinite singularity of space, yanked the multi-ton machine violently forward. It didn't just move; it folded, the rusted metal hull screeching and collapsing inward upon itself as it was pulled towards Gojo.
He didn't need to finish it. He just needed to stop it. The Behemoth was an agonizing pile of self-crushing scrap, immobilized and aimed away from the Nexus Core.
Jin-Woo arrived in a black flash, teleporting directly onto the crumpled mass. He didn't use a flashy skill. He simply used his immense physical strength, channeled through his daggers, finding the exact spot where the organic eye lay buried beneath the collapsed armor. Stab, stab, stab. Precise, silent, and deadly.
A dying, guttural wail echoed from the wreckage. The threat was neutralized in less than forty seconds.
Gojo descended, landing lightly next to Jin-Woo. "See? Efficient and stylish. It's possible to be both, Shadow Monarch-kun. Maybe you should try smiling sometime."
Jin-Woo sheathed his daggers, his cold eyes fixed on Gojo. "You used unnecessary force. And wasted precious seconds posing."
"Wasted? That was psychological warfare!" Gojo protested. "We have to look cool! We're the center of the universe! Anyway, back to the Core. Let's see how the 'Ground Crew' is faring."
The Ground Crew was faring poorly.
The small Scrappers had been alerted by the death of the second Behemoth, and they were swarming in retaliation. They were everywhere—climbing over each other, a constant river of clicking, rusty bodies trying to breach the Core's small protective radius.
Tanjiro was a blur of black and green. His Water Breathing forms were devastatingly effective against the close-packed hordes, carving arcs of light that deflected the enemy and sent them flying. He was a pillar of pure, exhausting dedication.
"Okarun! Focus on the ones climbing the crystal!" Tanjiro gasped, his lungs burning with Total Concentration Breathing. "Kazuma-san! Your sword is too short! Use something else!"
Okarun was frantically using his possessed speed, Turbo-Granny's power manifesting in chaotic bursts of incredible movement. He would rocket into a pack of Scrappers, kick six of them away, and then freeze, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to summon the courage to keep moving.
"I can't stop! I can't stop! They're everywhere! I'm going to get cursed by a rusty alien ghost!" Okarun screamed, spinning around and accidentally kicking a huge pile of scrap metal onto Kazuma.
"HEY! I WAS HIDING THERE!" Kazuma shrieked, emerging from the pile of debris, covered in dust and purple alien goo. "This is the worst party I've ever been on! I want to quit! I DEMAND A REFUND!"
He was flailing his short sword, hitting nothing, when a dozen Scrappers lunged at him. Panicked, he activated his only useful skill.
"STEAL!"
He wasn't targeting anything specific, just the general concept of the nearest Scrapper. He felt the familiar pull of the skill and was left holding... a small, perfectly smooth glass shard.
The Scrapper immediately stalled, its red eye flickering and dying. It collapsed.
"Huh?" Kazuma stared at the shard, then at the dead Scrapper. "Did I... did I steal its brain? Eww."
"Kazuma-san, that worked! Do it again!" Tanjiro yelled, dodging an incoming acid spray.
"I'm not touching their gross parts! I'll get rusty alien cooties! But... okay, fine! Since this is clearly my problem now!"
Kazuma began spamming the skill, screaming every time he used it. "STEAL! STEAL! TAKE THE UGLY PIECE! STEAL! Why did I get a little gear? This is useless!"
Despite his complaining, he was surprisingly effective. Every third Steal resulted in the Scrapper immediately short-circuiting and dying, leaving the ground team with a narrow choke point to defend.
Saitama, meanwhile, was sitting cross-legged at the base of the Nexus Core, using it as a backrest. He was supposed to be the "last line of defense," but with Jin-Woo and Gojo obliterating the heavy artillery before it was even visible, and the Ground Crew actually holding the line, he was bored again.
"The Core's not glowing," he observed, poking the humming blue crystal. "Think it runs on batteries?"
Tanjiro, mid-breath form, heard him and shouted back. "Saitama-san, please, the enemy is focusing on the flanks! We are struggling!"
"Yeah, but nothing's actually getting to the Core," Saitama replied, yawning. He picked up one of the glass shards Kazuma had stolen. "What do you do with these things, anyway?"
Suddenly, a giant wave of Scrappers broke through Okarun's shaky defense. They surged past the track-suit boy, scrambling directly for the Saitama.
"LAST LINE! LAST LINE!" Kazuma screamed, panicking.
Saitama sighed. He stood up, towering over the Core. He didn't use a punch. He just extended his open palm, not even looking at the horde. He pushed out a slight puff of air.
The force of the air pressure alone was enough to instantly flatten the entire wave of Scrappers into a pancake of broken metal, pushing them back twenty yards.
"Too noisy," Saitama grumbled, sitting back down. "Try to keep it down, guys. I'm trying to think about what to buy at the store later."
Gojo and Jin-Woo landed near the Core, watching the chaos.
"He's not even trying," Gojo whispered, a mix of awe and annoyance in his voice. "I just flattened a skyscraper and he just... sighed away a hundred monsters."
"His power is absolute physical manipulation," Jin-Woo concluded, folding his arms. "It's a nuisance. But the strategy holds. He forces the enemy to adapt to the rest of us."
Jin-Woo looked at the struggling Kazuma and Okarun, then back at the timer. 00:30:00. Halfway there.
"We change the strategy," Jin-Woo said. "Gojo. You cover the sky. Prevent airborne infiltration. I will reinforce the perimeter. Use my Shadow Soldiers to hold the outer walls. They will draw attention away from the Core."
"Ooh, Shadow Army! Finally, the cool stuff!" Gojo cheered. "Sure, Shadow Monarch-kun! Let's make some fireworks!"
Jin-Woo nodded, stepping into his own massive, black shadow. "Rise."
The ground beneath the ruined city plaza rippled. With a grinding, terrible sound, hundreds of dark, armored figures tore themselves from the shadows of the surrounding debris. They were the elite of the Shadow Monarch's army—warriors, mages, and assassins—and they immediately deployed into a silent, organized formation around the perimeter, their eyes glowing with cold, deadly intent.
The Scrappers stopped attacking the Core. They turned to face the new, terrifying arrivals. The air was thick with the scent of fear, and this time, it was coming from the enemy.
The game had just entered its second, more intense phase.
The Core Defense was about to become an army vs. army battle.
The strategy seems to be working for now, but the Arbiter is clearly adapting the challenge based on their performance. What do you think will happen when the Shadow Army draws the attention of the next wave of Behemoths?