Due to its geographical location close to the Antarctic continent, the Twin Islands existed in a state of perpetual cold that defied comfort.
The landforms were covered with ice and snow all year round, white coating every surface. There were only two or three months of clear weather annually. The rest was wind, snow, and temperatures that could kill the unprepared.
The cliffs on the island rose sheer and unforgiving, rock faces that challenged even enhanced humans.
Gang Dogs with naked upper bodies were grinning as they climbed toward the top through cold wind that screamed past with physical force. Their breath came in white plumes. Muscles rippled under skin gone red from exposure.
They treated the brutal conditions like a joke. Another day. Another challenge. Nothing that could stop them.
Doom, wearing only a gray singlet and trousers, also climbed. But unlike the Gang Dogs who attacked the cliff with enthusiasm, he gnashed his teeth and followed at the end of the large group.
He kept moving his stiff and trembling hands and feet upward, forcing frozen muscles to respond. Each movement was agony. His fingers barely closed around the rough rock wall within his sight.
The mist he exhaled from his mouth was blown into wispy ice crystals in the blink of an eye by the Antarctic winds. The frozen particles hit his eyelids, which were difficult to keep open against the relentless cold.
Everything hurt. Everything was numb. The contradictions of extreme cold.
"Hey! New guy! Don't hesitate when climbing this thing, don't look back and forth, just two word... do it!"
At this moment, a Gang Dog whose hands and feet moved with practiced skill called out. His climbing movements were very skillful, muscle memory guiding placement.
The whole person moved like a large gecko rushing over the rock wall. He grinned at Doom as he passed, showing genuine friendliness despite the competitive environment.
Doom shivered and tried to move his frozen neck muscles to look at the speaker. But his blurred vision, eyes watering from wind exposure, only caught a glimpse of a strong man with a missing front tooth passing by.
After a few dozen seconds, Doom, whose eyes had gone slightly unfocused from the cold, couldn't even see the other man's retreating form. Just gone. Disappeared up the cliff face.
"Butter bread, roasted venison... chocolate, candy..."
The drowsy Doom, feeling hypothermia's seductive pull toward sleep, took a sharp breath of frigid air. The sensation stabbed into his lungs like knives.
He used the refreshing agony to stimulate his mind, combining it with fantasies of high-calorie food waiting at the top. Rewards for completion.
The mental tricks worked. He regained his spirit temporarily and mustered courage to continue climbing upward.
As time passed and altitude increased, the speed of many Gang Dogs moving upward gradually slowed. Even enhanced warriors had limits. The cold worked on everyone eventually.
They moved more carefully now, muscular and strong bodies repositioning with deliberate caution. Their arms stretched out like flexible monkeys constantly searching for safe and suitable footholds.
No more bravado. Just focused survival.
At this moment, Doom, who had gradually caught up with the main group through sheer stubborn determination, couldn't help but exhale a breath of mist. Progress. Finally.
He began to learn from the cautious movements of the Gang Dogs, mimicking their technique. Watching where they placed hands and feet. Following proven paths.
However, relying only on willpower and the rock climbing skills he'd just learned over recent days wasn't sufficient.
Doom, who desperately wanted to successfully reach the top, prove himself worthy, didn't know whether he was distracted by the numbing cold or whether he genuinely didn't notice the hazard.
His frozen palm accidentally grabbed a piece of stone covered with a thin layer of ice. The surface was deceptive. Looked solid. Wasn't.
His fingers slipped immediately. Physics took over.
Doom suddenly fell backward, body separating from the cliff face.
He fell rapidly down toward the ground far below, wind screaming past his ears.
To be honest, Doom's reaction speed was very fast under normal circumstances. His mind was sharp. His reflexes enhanced.
The moment his rough fingertips touched the ice, the instant before grip failed, he knew something was wrong. Recognized danger.
However, Doom, who had never encountered this specific environment and situation despite all his experiences, still fell into a state of confusion driven by human instinct.
His whole body seemed paralyzed, unable to move at all. Shock and terror locked his muscles.
Even his already narrow attention, focused entirely on the fall, was reduced to a dim perspective that could only register the intense heartbeat thundering in his chest.
Time stretched. Each second became eternal. Death approached.
However, at this critical moment, a Gang Dog located below Doom's falling trajectory suddenly roared with effort and decision.
He firmly anchored himself. Two feet found purchase. One thick palm drove into stone. He inserted himself into a narrow gap in the cliff face, forming an extremely stable triangular structure with his whole strong body.
Flesh and bone became architecture. Human transformed into support beam.
Then he quickly stretched out his other strong arm, timing perfect despite impossible speeds, and grabbed the collar of Doom's singlet.
The fabric held. The arm held. The structure held.
And with tremendous strength, he threw Doom sideways onto the cliff wall below! Not gently. But effectively.
"Haha! New guy! Is it exciting? Are you awake?"
The familiar greeting, shouted with genuine amusement, made Doom's consciousness snap back to full awareness immediately.
His survival instinct, dormant during the fall, roared to life.
He quickly waved his stiff and trembling hands and feet in frantic motion. Like a startled squid, he firmly grasped the rock wall before him, fingers and boots finding any available grip.
After he confirmed safety, after his weight was truly supported, Doom's eyes went wide.
He subconsciously released a burst of extremely rapid and violent gasps. Hyperventilating. Flooding his system with oxygen.
Only then did his heart rate gradually calm from the thundering pace that threatened to burst from his chest.
You know, even when Doom had been captured by the Hassenstadt army, even when he was tortured day and night in that cell, when his eyes were gouged out and his body broken, he had never been so scared and helpless.
Pain was one thing. The threat of death from falling was somehow worse.
"Hey! New guy, are you stupid? Are you scared by such a small thing?" The Gang Dog above Doom's head grinned and roared loudly, clearly enjoying himself.
"I heard that our boss is still planning the seven-day trip to Antarctica! It is said that you'll only be given a Catachan Fang and thrown into the depths of the Antarctic continent. If you arrive at the designated location seven days later, you'll be qualified... Hehe! I really want to taste polar bear meat!"
The prospect seemed to genuinely excite him. Adventure. Challenge. Food.
When Doom didn't immediately respond, still processing near-death and now this new information, the Gang Dog showed his white teeth with the conspicuous gap where the front tooth should be.
"Ahem... Friend! There are only penguins in Antarctica, not polar bears! Uh... It's not scientific to say that exactly. There are eight species of penguins in Antarctica, which are..."
Doom, who had recovered his composure enough to engage intellectually, took a deep breath. He blinked his eyelids rapidly, clearing ice crystals, and raised his head to look at his rescuer.
His teeth chattered as he tried to share knowledge.
However, before Doom could finish his taxonomy lecture, the Gang Dog with missing front teeth immediately shouted in obvious disappointment.
"What did you say? There are no polar bears in Antarctica? Oh, what a bummer! Forget it! We'll just eat whatever we can when the time comes!"
His dream of specific meat crushed, the warrior simply adjusted expectations.
Before finishing his statement completely, the whole person immediately resumed climbing up the cliff without looking back. Moving on. Already over it.
Doom, interrupted mid-sentence, was stunned at first by the abrupt dismissal of his educational attempt.
Then a faint smile gradually appeared at the corner of his mouth despite the cold and fear. The casual camaraderie. The resilience. The simple acceptance.
The fear and dread that had accumulated in his heart since the fall disappeared almost instantly, replaced by something warmer.
He pressed himself against the rock wall and mustered courage again. Drew strength from the rescue. From the conversation.
He continued to climb carefully toward the summit above.
"Fuck! What bad luck!"
However, at this moment, a heavy sound of wind falling accompanied by a shouted curse from above his head instantly broke into Doom's awareness.
He looked up almost instantly and saw the familiar figure of his rescuer, now falling. The same Gang Dog who'd just saved him.
Irony of ironies.
At this moment, Doom's eyes went wide and he acted without thinking. No hesitation. No debate.
He exerted powerful invisible telekinesis, the witchcraft flowing through him despite the anti-magic environment of pure cold. His will shaped reality.
He quickly supported the Gang Dog's strong body from below with invisible hands. Caught him mid-fall.
And took advantage of the momentum to place the warrior's whole body gently on the nearby rock wall. Safe. Secured.
The next second, the Gang Dog couldn't help but show his broken teeth again. He blinked in confusion, processing what had happened.
He stared at Doom not far away and spoke in a slightly teasing and complaining tone that carried genuine emotion beneath the words.
"Oh, brother, although I am very grateful that you pulled me up and saved my life... but you shouldn't have pulled me!"
The statement was baffling. Doom's eyebrows rose.
The Gang Dog continued, gesturing downward. "Look down carefully. Teams of Scyllax Guardian have been stationed below. Although everyone will break their hands and feet due to the violent collision with the ground, there are still small panaceas available! People with more serious injuries will also be allowed to use large panaceas..."
His voice took on genuine longing. "I was still hoping to get classified as a seriously injured patient and let the broken teeth in my mouth grow back again!"
The plan had been deliberate. Fall. Break bones. Get panacea. Regrow tooth. Simple.
Hearing the words of this "toothless" Gang Dog, Doom's smile faltered. He was slightly stunned by the twisted logic.
He first carefully glanced at the ground far below, confirming the claim. Sure enough, he saw robots twisting back and forth like serpents, bodies undulating as they constantly patrolled the area. Scyllax Guardian. Safety net.
Then Doom, with a helpless expression spreading across his face, slowly retracted his sight upward.
He looked at the Gang Dog before him seriously, meeting his eyes. His voice emerged soft but certain.
"Friend, is the panacea the panacea? Believe me, that thing will not make you grow new teeth, unless you already have unerupted teeth waiting beneath the gums..."
The biological truth needed stating.
"Huh? Brother, you know this again? Have you eaten it?" The Gang Dog's curiosity was genuine, hopeful still that maybe Doom was wrong.
"Well, I have experienced it myself personally, and the molar that was knocked out before did not grow back afterward."
Doom's tone was apologetic but firm. No miracles here.
"Oh... Damn, it seems that the Bane brothers are using false information to cheat my allowance again..."
Realization dawned. Scammed. The Gang Dog processed this betrayal.
Then his expression shifted to determination. Priorities realigned. "Let's go, brother! Let's finish this project quickly and go to the next project to block them! I would rather give you half of the allowance I want back!"
Vengeance and justice. Noble causes.
"Ah? What did you say?!" Doom's voice rose in alarm. "There is also a next project?!"
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