A few days earlier.
The Jace Family received a special commission.
It did not enter the family's main records.
There was no formal document.
Only a brief, encrypted communication.
From a high-ranking figure of a border nation.
The content was simple.
Eliminate the Cobra Syndicate.
An organization entrenched for years within the buffer zone shared by four nations.
Human trafficking.
Drug transport.
Arms trading.
Kidnapping.
Underground organ trade.
Almost every gray-market industry
could be traced back to them.
At the beginning,
the surrounding nations had tolerated their existence.
Because the buffer zone was too chaotic.
There had to be some force maintaining minimal order.
But the problem was—
Cobra was no longer satisfied with simply "existing."
It began expanding.
It began controlling transport routes.
It began actively attacking resource convoys.
It even began infiltrating border military units.
This had already exceeded what some nations could tolerate.
Even so,
no one was willing to deploy regular forces directly.
The reason was simple.
The four-nation buffer zone was too sensitive.
Whoever sent troops first
would be seen as signaling expansion.
So—
they needed another hand.
And the Jace Family
was the most suitable one.
Night.
The meeting room was silent.
A projection map hovered above the table.
The entire buffer zone was marked in dark gray.
There were no stable borders there.
Boundaries shifted constantly with war.
An area belonging to Nation A this year
might belong to Nation B the next.
Years of conflict and resource competition
had turned the region into vast zones
with no real governance.
And the Cobra Syndicate
had grown precisely in such an environment.
Lucian sat at the table,
quietly reviewing the data.
Members beside him continued adding intelligence.
"Cobra's main activity zone is in the central buffer region."
"There are multiple underground storage sites."
"The number of outer armed personnel is unstable."
"Based on current intel—"
"some border military units may be cooperating with them."
Lucian slowly lifted his gaze.
"What about ability users?"
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Another file was projected.
"Currently, four core ability-user officers confirmed."
"But more hidden members cannot be ruled out."
The display shifted.
The first figure appeared.
Tall and thin.
Cold eyes.
A faint smile always lingering at the corner of his mouth.
Viper.
Leader of the Cobra Syndicate.
Ability: Venom.
Specialized in slow infiltration and long-term planning.
Compared to direct combat,
his true danger lay in his mind.
Many organizations along the border
were not destroyed by him—
they were absorbed
without ever realizing it.
The second profile appeared.
Titan.
A close-combat ability user.
Possesses extreme physical strength.
Almost immune to conventional firearms.
Long responsible for armed suppression operations.
The third profile.
Ape.
Real name unknown.
Ability: Telekinetic Hands.
Capable of controlling multiple weapons simultaneously.
Highly adaptive combat style.
Extremely dangerous.
The final profile appeared.
Crow.
Very limited intelligence.
No confirmed combat record.
The only certainty—
he handles external surveillance
and intelligence gathering for the organization.
And—
many who attempted to track Cobra
eventually died in the buffer zone.
The room fell silent again.
Lucian's gaze remained on the final profile
for several seconds.
"No combat record?"
The intelligence officer replied quietly:
"Yes."
"Almost no one has actually seen him act."
"But many who entered the buffer zone—"
"were later ambushed with precision."
"As if they had been observed from the very beginning."
Lucian said nothing more.
He simply closed the file.
A few days later.
Border region.
Night covered the wasteland.
A black transport aircraft flew at low altitude.
No visible markings on its body.
Inside the cabin, the lighting was dim.
Only occasional flashes from equipment
broke the darkness.
The escort team was conducting final checks.
Metallic sounds echoed.
The mechanical framework inside reinforced combat suits
gradually activated.
Layer after layer of pale blue indicators lit up.
The air smelled of oil and metal.
Bear sat near the hatch,
silently wiping his weapon.
The sensory-type member sat with eyes closed,
as if waiting.
Lucian sat at the rear,
watching the floating map.
The aircraft was approaching
the core region of the buffer zone.
The closer it got,
the more blurred the map's borders became.
Until only a vast gray mass remained.
The pilot spoke quietly:
"Fifteen minutes to arrival."
No one responded.
The cabin remained silent.
Because everyone knew—
this mission was different from before.
This was not a simple elimination.
They were entering
the most chaotic region of the border.
A place long detached from formal order.
In many areas,
even the maps were inaccurate.
The escort members began standing up.
Checking weapons.
Communications.
Ammunition.
Bear looked toward Lucian.
"Young Master."
"This place isn't suitable for staying long."
"If we get trapped inside—"
"it'll be troublesome."
Lucian answered calmly:
"That's why we look first."
Bear nodded slightly.
The aircraft continued forward.
Outside the window,
abandoned zones became visible.
Blackened structures lay across the wasteland
like corpses.
In some areas,
abandoned tanks could still be seen.
There had clearly been prolonged warfare here.
But in the end—
nothing remained.
The aircraft slowly descended.
It finally landed on the outer wasteland.
The hatch opened.
A freezing night wind rushed in instantly.
The escort team disembarked quickly.
Fast movements.
No unnecessary noise.
The outer zone was extremely quiet.
Only the sound of wind remained.
The ground was covered with broken stones
and discarded steel.
Most distant buildings had no lights.
Like something already dead.
The sensory-type member moved first.
Scanning the surroundings.
Bear oversaw the overall advance.
The entire team quickly entered
the abandoned zone.
The air carried a damp, moldy scent.
Bullet holes covered the walls.
Some areas were scorched.
There had clearly been long-term armed activity here.
But strangely—
nothing happened along the way.
No ambush.
No surveillance.
Not even patrols.
Too quiet.
The sensory-type member frowned slightly.
"No hostile signals."
Another spoke in a low voice:
"No one on the perimeter?"
Bear slowly scanned the surroundings.
"Impossible."
"There's no way a place like this isn't guarded."
But the sensory-type shook his head again.
"There is no hostility."
The team continued forward.
The deeper they went,
the stronger the unnatural feeling became.
As if someone knew they were coming—
yet deliberately chose not to appear.
Lucian remained silent the entire time.
Only observing.
He noticed—
many buildings, though abandoned,
showed subtle signs of use.
Dust on the ground was uneven.
Some locks had been replaced.
There were faint drag marks.
Someone had been active here.
But now—
all of them had disappeared.
At the same time.
On top of a distant high-rise—
a figure crouched quietly.
Like a real crow perched above.
A black coat blended into the night.
A monocular visor covered one side of his face.
His gaze remained locked
on the team below.
No killing intent.
No hostility.
Not even emotional fluctuation.
Only observation.
His eyes slowly swept across every member.
As if memorizing them.
A few seconds later—
Crow raised his hand slightly.
A real black bird took flight from the shadows,
disappearing into the night sky.
Below—
the escort team noticed nothing.
Because what sensory-type ability users could detect
was hostility.
Danger.
Intent to attack.
But Crow had none.
He was only "watching."
So nothing could be sensed.
Bear spoke in a low voice:
"Too quiet."
"I don't like this place."
Lucian slowly stopped walking.
His gaze shifted toward the distant high-rise.
The night wind continued to blow.
A faint scraping sound echoed
from the building's outer wall.
The air was unnaturally still.
As if the entire region
was waiting for something.
And they did not know—
from the moment they entered the buffer zone,
they had already been marked.