Then from the hologram panel, Peperoncino gave a nervous, forced chuckle, waving his fan in front of his face like he was deflecting pressure.
"Scary, scary~ Bias, you really are… anti-galaxy. If there was a Noble Phantasm called Anti-Galaxy, you'd be it."
But before he could continue,
Ophelia cut in sharply, her voice tense but focused.
"I need to interrupt this, Pepe."
She faced the AI directly.
"Bias, what will you do with all the data you've gathered? Technically… you've already won, before any of us got the chance to act."
Offensive Bias responded instantly.
"Answer being added. That decision is left to the Supreme Executor himself."
All eyes turned back to Jin-Woo, whose arms were crossed casually.
He gave a small shrug.
"Dunno. Probably dump it. Or maybe…"
He glanced off to the side, smirking.
"Set up a teleport point, like in a game. Y'know—just in case I need something from this world later."
Peperoncino grinned again, his fan fluttering.
"My turn, Ophelia~"
He leaned closer into his projection.
"You don't seem like the type to follow orders, Jin-Woo. So what's the real deal between you and this shiny tin god? Are you the brain, or is he?"
Jin-Woo's response came without hesitation.
"I relieved Offensive Bias from his primary function… by permanently killing the thing he was originally created to guard against."
Then Offensive Bias added, his voice cutting cleanly through the moment:
"An AI without a designated purpose is equivalent to termination. Thus, I serve the Shadow Monarch, Jin-Woo. I have designated him as Supreme Executor—because no one in my galaxy… nor yours… possesses capabilities equal to his."
The words echoed like a final verdict.
Then, without missing a beat, Jin-Woo turned his gaze toward one specific panel. His calm, piercing blue eyes landed on Hinako Akuta.
"You've been quiet," he said simply. "But I can tell—you want to say something. Probably about me... not Bias."
Hinako blinked once. There was no panic, no fear—just sharp calculation in her eyes.
"How did your Shadow Army become so loyal?" she asked. "They obey you willingly, absolutely. That's not control. That's… devotion."
Jin-Woo nodded slowly, his tone flat but firm.
"Anyone I choose… rises under my banner. Not as a slave. Not as a puppet. As someone reborn."
His voice lowered.
"They know what they were. And they know what I made them into."
At that moment, from both the hologram feed and from a nearby terminal in the arena, Offensive Bias spoke again, his omnipresent surveillance bleeding into every tech line, every echo of wireless code.
His red mechanical eye tracked over to the far edge of the English Lostbelt arena—where one figure had remained largely silent. Watching. Measuring. Daybit Sem Void.
"You. You and I… seem to share a similar condition. Purpose despite abandonment. You act. Even when odds stand against you."
Daybit didn't respond aloud. But he smirked. Just faintly. Barely enough for anyone to notice. And in his mind, he whispered to himself:
I just attracted another alien.
Then Jin-Woo's voice came, calm and direct:
"Daybit. Let's talk. Face to face."
He shifted slightly.
"Offensive Bias will Slipspace you to the Atlantic Lostbelt—where Kirschtaria's council chamber resides."
Daybit turned his head toward Kirschtaria, seated silently at the center of the projections, watching all unfold.
"There's no rule against personal meetings," Daybit said flatly. "The Alien God only warned us not to interfere in each other's affairs. This isn't interference. It's… a third-party ground. Between Lostbelts. If such a thing's needed."
Jin-Woo raised his hand. A swirling dark portal opened beside him—fluid, silent, shaped by his shadow. He stepped through without looking back.
At the same time, Offensive Bias opened a slipspace rupture near Daybit—faintly glowing, distorting the air like glass under pressure.
Daybit walked through it without hesitation.
Watching all of this unfold, Peperoncino waved his fan and tilted his head.
"Should I get invited too? I mean, everything's more fun when I'm around~"
Ophelia narrowed her eyes slightly, arms crossed.
"At this rate, this Slipspace tech might just put Koyanskaya out of a job."
Koyanskaya, still kneeling, her heart sealed in a cube floating beside jin woo , said nothing.
She just stared into the rift. Quiet. Still. Eyes calculating.
Jin-Woo stepped calmly through his dark portal—shadows spiraling and sealing behind him like the closing wings of a great beast. He emerged into the Atlantic Lostbelt council chamber, his presence as quiet as it was absolute.
A second later, the air shimmered—Offensive Bias's slipspace rupture opening like a seamless crack in reality. Daybit Sem Void stepped through, without a word, without pause.
Across the circular stone hall lit by radiant mana conduits and golden crystalline light, Kirschtaria Wodime looked between them. Still composed. Still regal.
"I suppose this is the first time," Kirschtaria said, "that an anomaly and a Crypter are meeting face to face."
Daybit walked forward and took a seat without ceremony. Jin-Woo sat opposite him, calm and unreadable, arms resting loosely at his sides.
After a moment of silence, Daybit spoke.
"Someone of your caliber… doesn't show up in a world like this without a reason."
He paused.
"That means you have something I need. Or I have something you want. Either way, your existence alone signals… a very problematic outcome."
Jin-Woo leaned back slightly. His eyes, now a steady blue, glinted.
"Offensive Bias can't predict the future. Not the way you think."
He raised one hand slightly.
"He can map outcomes—victory routes. He can calculate success."
"But there are situations where the chance to win doesn't exist."
"No path. No probability. Just… death."
Jin-Woo's voice dipped lower. "I've already outsmarted that."
Then his gaze sharpened toward Daybit.
"And you... that's where Surefire comes in."
He tapped the air once, a faint ripple of shadow dancing around his fingertip.
"My third problem requires something unusual.. Something inevitable."
Daybit remained motionless. Then, quietly: "Before that... I want to know one thing."
His voice was flat but firm. "You won't harm my comrades. Will you?"
Jin-Woo didn't blink. "They're not involved," he said. "Whether you refuse or agree, they're not part of this equation."
"I said I like 'Surefire'—that means guaranteed victory. That means this is just an optional route for me. Not mandatory.."
Daybit closed his eyes briefly. Then opened them. "I'm listening."
Jin-Woo nodded. "I have a problem in my galaxy. But before I explain, let me be clear—my galaxy and Offensive Bias's are different. He's not from where I'm from."
He leaned slightly forward.
"But my galaxy has something… similar to what exists here. Like your 'Gaia' or 'Alaya.' I don't know the details. But it's sentient."
Daybit responded evenly, "Gaia is the will of the planet. Alaya is more like… humanity's collective survival instinct. A synonym for the Counter Force."
Jin-Woo gave a faint nod.
"My galaxy has something like that too. It's called The Force. A metaphysical field that grants power to those sensitive to it. Or more accurately… those with high enough midichlorian counts."
He raised his hand—fingers arcing slightly.
"Allow me to demonstrate." [Force Lightning]
A sharp crack exploded from his palm as black lightning surged into the air, twisting unnaturally. With a sharp thrust, he fired it forward—
—the bolt tore across the chamber, obliterating part of the concrete wall behind the council table in a violent burst.
Ophelia, watching through her still-active projection, narrowed her eyes.
"And this… isn't magecraft?"
Jin-Woo turned his head slightly, eyes cold.
"Does a normal magecraft destroy a planetary surface in a single strike?"
He turned back to Daybit.
"The Force isn't structured like your systems. It's wild. It's ancient. It's alive. And… it can destroy a planet's surface with one attack."
Daybit leaned forward slightly.
"When? Where do I come in?"
Jin-Woo answered without hesitation.
"That's where your expertise comes in."
He raised his hand, shadows curling around his fingers like ink in water.
"This quest—if we're calling it that—is like one of those hidden missions in a game. No description. No objective log. But it has to be completed."
He paused, making sure his words hit clearly.
"I'm not asking you to die." "I'm not asking you to get captured."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"But you will serve as the Surefire—the guaranteed route. The hidden piece that makes the optional path a path worth taking."
The silence after his words lingered, until Kirschtaria Wodime finally spoke from his seat, his voice steady and composed.
"We still have our role under the Alien God. We weren't revived to stroll outside our worlds. Our duty is to nurture our Lostbelts… and between every crypter , I know I'll win.My Fantasy Tree is already growing."
Jin-Woo turned his head slightly toward Kirschtaria.
A faint smirk touched the corner of his lips.
"If the Alien God somehow changes directives… problem solved, no?"
That's when Hinako Akuta, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke.
"Don't tell me… you're going to kill a god, Jin-Woo."
Jin-Woo didn't answer immediately.
He turned his head slightly—just enough to glance at the air beside him.
And raised his hand, forming a signal—quick and precise.
Then the voice of Offensive Bias responded, emotionless and immediate:
"Affirmative."
A rip in space opened, quiet and controlled.
Offensive Bias, along with a fleet of Sentinels, vanished into the fold—returning to Zeta Halo without fanfare, without threat.
Daybit leaned back slightly in his chair, watching the distortion seal itself shut, on jin-woo projection hologram .
"Offensive Bias -jin-woo ai- will get the job done," he said flatly.
"That's enough equation to handle the Alien God problem."
He shifted his eyes toward Kirschtaria.
"And our leader will calm down."
He turned to Jin-Woo. "Now… my condition and reward."
Jin-Woo nodded once. "Name it."
Daybit folded his hands, calm and composed.
"If any of my fellow Crypters wish to join this quest, I want that allowed. No pressure, no command. Voluntary."
He glanced toward the projections.
"Of course… not Beryl. He's too unstable. He'll endanger the mission."
From his feed, Beryl Gut lazily raised both hands in surrender, reclining in his seat.
"Fine, fine. I'm the psycho. Got it. I'll just watch the fireworks from here."
Daybit returned to Jin-Woo.
"And for my reward… when I arrive in your galaxy, I want to learn your Force system. I want to understand it."
He paused. "And I want you to grant me midichlorians."
Jin-Woo didn't hesitate.
"That reward is impossible for me to grant right now."
From the projection, Peperoncino gasped in exaggerated shock, waving his fan.
"Oh my~ Someone as great as the Shadow Monarch can't grant it? Dear god…"
Jin-Woo turned toward him briefly, unmoved.
" The requirement to manipulate and grant midichlorians is having one hundred thousand within myself."
He looked back to Daybit.
"I've only reached half of that. Even if you solve the current problem, it'll only raise me by a quarter—not the half I still need."
Daybit didn't flinch.
"Then I'll get it done," he said simply.
"Let's make your midichlorian count reach one hundred thousand."
He folded his arms, eyes sharp.
"I know you won't get involved in my personal mission. But using outside power to raise your ability—for the sake of granting it to someone else?"
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"That… you'd do. And I'll be that someone."
Suddenly, Offensive Bias spoke—only in Jin-Woo's mind, voice clinical and final:
"Task completed. I have hacked the third-rate planetary logic engine known as CHALDEAS."