"Knock, knock. Debt collector."

- Lockpick

London, England

The London Eye loomed above, its massive frame twisting slowly against the twilight sky. Dusk stood at its base, arms crossed as he looked up at the towering wheel. Grace—Dokkaebi—stood beside him, casually scrolling through her phone.

"So," Grace said, glancing up with a smirk, "You've practically gone from limping to walking like nothing happened. Did you eat every food item in your inventory after a Fus Roh Dah or something?"

Dusk didn't respond immediately, his eyes still on the wheel. But the corner of his mouth twitched in what could almost be called a smile. He had heard the comparison before, and he wasn't exactly shy about the ridiculous speed at which his body healed.

"Doc said it would take three weeks," Grace continued, adjusting her glasses, "It's barely been two, and you're acting like you were never shot."

"I don't know. Just got lucky, I guess. Arm's still healing at normal rate, though," Dusk replied as he lifted his jacket's sleeve, revealing the bandage around his arm.

Grace let out a small laugh.

"Lucky? You're the only person I know who can walk off a serious injury in half the time it takes for someone to recover from a paper cut."

"It's a gift. Or a curse. You never know."

Grace snorted.

"I'm just saying, if I ever get injured, I'm coming to you for 'special treatment.' Just make sure I'm not around when you 'heal' from getting shot in the face next time."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his voice dry.

"I'd rather not try."

They walked away from the London Eye in comfortable silence, both of them secretly enjoying the light-hearted banter. This was one of the rare moments where they could just be normal, away from the missions and the weight of their lives as operators. As Dusk and Dokkaebi strolled through the lively streets of London, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestone paths. Dokkaebi casually nudged him with her elbow, her eyes flicking toward a large building ahead.

"Hey, what do you think about going in there?" she asked, pointing at the SEA Life London Aquarium sign.

Dusk glanced up at the building, then nodded.

"Sure. Why not?"

Inside, the aquarium was a maze of colors and movement, with marine creatures gliding gracefully past massive tanks. Dokkaebi glanced at him, curiosity bubbling up.

"So, you've been pretty quiet today. What was it you studied when you were overseas in France during your time in the NDU?"

"Marine biology."

"Wait, really? Marine biology? I didn't expect that from you, although you are a diver and all about the sea…"

"It's true. I've become something of a pseudo-expert on illnesses affecting dugongs and manatees... But my favorite animal is the Asian short-clawed otter. They're incredibly intelligent and playful."

Dokkaebi chuckled, glancing at one of the tanks where a couple of otters swam by.

"I can see you vibing with them."

Dusk gave a rare, small smile, but it quickly faded.

"I spent some time thinking about a goal in life, you know, after I retire from the force. Marine biology seemed like a good fit. But it doesn't feel right."

Dokkaebi watched him for a moment, her gaze softening before she replied, "Sometimes, the wrong answer turns out to be the right one, you know?"

Dusk glanced at her, then back at the otters, his face thoughtful. "Maybe you're right."

They both paused in front of the tank, the peaceful movement of the otters serving as a quiet reminder that sometimes, even in the wrong direction, there's a path to something unexpected…

The train car rumbled along the tracks, the soft hum of the engine blending with the low chatter of other passengers. As the evening sky darkened, the glow from the windows of the train painted long shadows across the floor.

Dusk sat quietly beside Dokkaebi, his expression as unreadable as ever. As the train swayed gently with each turn, he reached into his bag, pulling out a small box. He handed it to Dokkaebi without a word. She looked at the box for a moment, then glanced up at him, curiosity piqued.

"What's this?"

"Belated birthday gift," Dusk muttered, his tone casual, but there was something almost... soft in his eyes, "I missed it. You were on a mission, and I was in Turkey helping Wolfguard with the earthquake."

Dokkaebi blinked in surprise, taking the box from his hands.

"Wait, you remembered my birthday?"

She hadn't expected that—she'd brushed it off, figuring Dusk was too wrapped up in his own work. But this was... different.

She opened the box, revealing a sleek, high-tech graphic card inside—one she immediately recognized. The latest model, used by the military back in South Korea. Her eyes widened.

"This—this is the top-of-the-line model," she whispered, astonished, "I can upgrade my ballistic laptop with this. Thank you, Dusk. Seriously."

He shrugged, his usual stoic demeanor back in place.

"It's just a small gesture. No big deal."

But Dokkaebi wasn't fooled by his casual tone. She smiled, tucking the box carefully into her bag.

"Still, I really appreciate it. You're the last person I'd expect to remember, but you did."

Dusk gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, then leaned back in his seat, looking out the window. The rhythm of the train ride, the comfort of their shared silence, slowly lulled them into a quiet, peaceful moment.

As the train continued its journey, the gentle rocking of the car and the warmth of the evening combined with the weariness of the day, and before either of them realized it, Dokkaebi's head had slipped onto Dusk's shoulder. He glanced down at her, momentarily stiff, but then let out a quiet breath and relaxed.

The night stretched on, and they both rested, unaware of the world outside the train until Dusk managed to wake up ten minutes before they reached their destination…

The doors to the Hereford Base cafeteria swung open, and Dusk and Dokkaebi stepped inside, still catching their breath from the train ride. As they entered, the cafeteria seemed unusually quiet. A few operators who had been in mid-conversation suddenly fell silent, their eyes darting quickly away as if they hadn't seen anything. Dusk and Dokkaebi exchanged a confused glance.

"What's going on?" Dokkaebi muttered under her breath, but Dusk simply shrugged, equally puzzled.

They made their way to the counter, but before they could grab their trays, Valkyrie caught their attention. She leaned in, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

"So, how was the date?" she asked, her tone playful.

Dusk blinked, a slight frown on his face.

"It wasn't a date."

Dokkaebi, equally flustered, quickly added, "Yeah, we just went to London to—"

Bandit, overhearing their conversation from a nearby table, leaned back and interrupted, "Not a date, huh? Then why were the two of you in London without Lucy?"

"Lucy…?"

Before he could finish his thought, the sound of a faint whine interrupted him. Turning, he saw Lucy slumped on the floor next to Maestro, looking up at Dusk with an expression that could only be described as betrayed. She gave another soft whine, and Maestro patted her on the head, whispering, "You were abandoned for the day, huh?"

Dokkaebi raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, that's… odd."

Ash, who had been quietly observing, leaned in with an amused smirk.

"Guess today must've been a special day, huh?"

Just as Dusk and Dokkaebi were about to respond, the cafeteria doors swung open with a sudden burst of energy. In came Chameleon, skipping past the two with a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the situation.

The entire cafeteria went silent for a split second, and then, as if on cue, a wave of laughter erupted. Operators glanced at each other, stifling giggles, some even clutching their sides. Dusk and Dokkaebi froze, their faces going beet red. Dokkaebi glanced at Dusk, whose eyes were now wide with embarrassment, and they both quickly turned away, their hands instinctively covering their faces.

"Oh my god," Dokkaebi groaned, "We forgot…"

"I... didn't mean for this to—" Dusk started, but he couldn't finish before a burst of laughter from Bandit rang out.

"Not a date, huh?" Bandit snickered, "Well, Happy freaking Valentine's Day to you both!"

Dokkaebi and Dusk shared a long, awkward pause, neither knowing whether to laugh or crawl into a hole. Meanwhile, Chameleon looked around with a bewildered look on her face, wondering why everyone was suddenly laughing so much.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked innocently, causing the rest of the cafeteria to laugh even harder.

Dusk, his face still red, could only glance up at the ceiling, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the flood of chaos that Chameleon produces on a daily basis the moment she opened her mouth.

Dokkaebi could only sigh, her embarrassment now officially matching his."I swear, if this is going to be a thing now, I'm never going anywhere with you again."

The screen flickered as the video call connected, revealing Major-General Pak Suo-Won, now commanding the Republic of Korea Army Special Warfare Command. The man had aged gracefully, but his presence still exuded the same authority and sharpness that made him a force to be reckoned with in his prime.

"John," Pak greeted with a half-smile, "I see we're both getting old. Time flies, doesn't it?"

John Clark, seated in his darkened office, chuckled lightly.

"You're not wrong, Pak. But it's good to see you're still running the show. Reaching Major-General in your early forties—that's no small feat in the ROK Army."

Pak's smile widened slightly.

"Not many of us make it, but it's been a rewarding journey," He paused, the tone shifting to something more serious, "Anyways, I've got an event coming up in South Korea—something that requires the attention of a few specific people."

Clark raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm guessing Vigil and Dokkaebi are among those people?"

Pak nodded.

"I need them back for the duration. But there's also another matter. The Keres Legion has been active in Korea lately. I'd like some of your Rainbow operators to attend the event, in case things take a turn, especially after how they attacked the Tower training facility last year…"

Clark leaned back in his chair, considering the request.

"I'll let Vigil and Dokkaebi decide. They're both highly capable, and I trust their judgment."

Pak's eyes gleamed with appreciation.

"I knew you'd understand. I'll have more details soon."

"Good. Keep me posted," Clark replied, his expression darkening slightly, "If the Legion gets involved, we'll need to be ready for anything."

Vigil and Dokkaebi stood in front of John Clark's desk, the usual quiet hum of the office filling the space. Clark's expression was all business as he gestured for them to sit.

"Here's the deal," Clark began, opening a file in front of him. "South Korea is hosting a military exchange program in Incheon. It's a big event—military leaders and personnel from thirty countries are attending. Pak-sojang requested that you two return to provide security for the duration of the event. It's not exactly a mission, but you'll be on standby in case things get complicated."

Dokkaebi grimaced as the words left Clark's mouth, her gaze drifting toward the floor. It didn't take a seasoned observer like Clark to notice this, remembering that Dokkaebi has serious conflicts with one of her commanders back in the 707th SMG who is now trying to get her kicked out of the unit.

"Before you say anything, Specialist Nam," Clark continued, leaning forward slightly, "Your overall commander, Baek-jungjang, had made it very clear that Kuh-sojang is not to take his personal grievances out on you, especially in an international event where professionalism is expected. This is strictly about providing security for the event. Nothing more."

Dokkaebi's frown softened just a little, though the tension in her shoulders didn't fully dissipate. Vigil remained expressionless, his gaze steady on Clark.

"Got it," Dokkaebi muttered, though she wasn't entirely convinced.

Clark's eyes shifted between the two of them, clearly aware of the underlying tension.

"And just so you know, each of you can bring three other Rainbow operators to attend with you. You'll have full say on who to bring."

Dokkaebi's brow furrowed in thought. The opportunity to choose her team was a welcome one, but she wasn't exactly sure who would be the best fit for what was supposed to be a routine event. Vigil, on the other hand, seemed already lost in his thoughts, mentally drafting a list of potential team members.

Clark sat back in his chair, folding his arms.

"Don't worry—this isn't a mission. It's just an event. But you know how these things tend to go."

His words lingered in the air, knowing full well that nothing about Rainbow operations ever stayed peaceful for long.

2 Days later, over the Pacific Ocean

The rumble of the C-130's engines filled the cabin as it sliced through the sky. Dokkaebi sat with her tablet in hand, anxiously going over the guest list for the upcoming event. She nervously glanced up at Vigil, who was sitting across from her, exuding the usual air of calmness as he reviewed his own list of invites.

Vigil didn't even look up from his screen.

"I invited Blackbeard and told you fill the other two slots once you've gotten your three, and how exactly did you come up with your guest list?"

Dokkaebi blinked.

"Oh, uh, sure. So, I kinda... just invited whoever I saw first."

"Whoever you saw first?"

She nodded sheepishly, shifting in her seat.

"Yep. It seemed like the easiest way, y'know? I didn't think it was a big deal. It's not like we're going on an operation. Just an event."

Vigil gestured at Dusk, Chameleon, Sabit, Lockpick, and Liu "Lesion" Tze Long of Hong Kong's SDU, all five sitting in front of the two South Korean operatives and Blackbeard, clearly surprised despite his ballistic mask hiding his features.

"This is your guest list?"

Dokkaebi shifted awkwardly.

"I mean, yeah. I thought it'd be... fine? I asked Chameleon first, then Dusk, and you know how that went. Then Lesion was just standing there, and Sabit and Lockpick showed up looking bored, so…"

Vigil let out a sigh. Across the cabin, Dusk and Sabit exchanged a look.

"Did she really have to invite the psychotic Vietnamese version of Shikanoko Noko-tan?" Dusk muttered under his breath to Sabit as he pointed his thumb at Chameleon, who was quietly humming the entire intro theme song from an anime that doesn't even start broadcasting until mid-2024.

Lockpick couldn't suppress a groan as Lucy barked in agreement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," he muttered, shaking his head.

Lesion, sitting a few seats away, overheard the conversation and gave Dokkaebi a reassuring look.

"Don't worry. I'll help keep the peace. Someone has to."

Dokkaebi sighed in relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Thank you, Lesion. You're the only normal one on this list."

Vigil leaned back in his seat, arms crossed.

"If you say so…" His gaze flicked to Chameleon, still humming like a deranged karaoke machine, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little, "This is going to be a very interesting event."

Incheon, South Korea

The ROK Special Forces base in Incheon was cloaked in tight security, each entrance carefully monitored, as guards stood at attention like sentinels. Dokkaebi and Vigil were obviously granted full access, while the rest of the Rainbow team would be spending their nights in a temporary barracks set up on the outskirts. As they entered the base, Dusk, Sabit, Chameleon, and Lockpick took in their surroundings with mixed expressions.

Vigil, as usual, made his presence known without uttering a word. As he and Dokkaebi approached to join the 707th SMG platoon assigned to guard the event, the unit's members straightened as he passed, an air of respect mixed with quiet wariness following his every step. The stoic operator had earned that reputation over the years.

Dokkaebi, however, felt the weight of different eyes on her. Most of the platoon greeted her warmly—friendly handshakes and nods of recognition—but she knew the drill. Major-General Kuh's disdain was a shadow she couldn't escape. It wasn't the first time she'd been considered a troublemaker, and it wasn't the first time she'd been met with cold, spiteful glares. Some of the 707th kept their distance, the silence between them louder than words.

Dokkaebi gave a tight smile and forced herself to walk past them, careful not to let their stares break her composure. She caught Dusk's gaze briefly as he stood with the others, his expression unreadable. Even with the tension in the air, she felt a quiet comfort in his presence—a steady anchor in the storm of her own thoughts.

"Seems like this is more than just a military exchange," Dusk commented, his voice low as he scanned the perimeter, his usual stoic demeanor remaining intact but with a quiet wariness in his gaze.

Sabit, standing beside him, smirked as he joked, "You mean we're not here for karaoke and small talk?"

Chameleon, ever the oddball, twirled around as she took in the fortified base with wide eyes.

"High-tech toys, new strategies, and military gossip—looks like it's going to be a fun weekend!" she chirped.

Lockpick barely acknowledged the chatter.

"If it's supposed to be a gathering, it's got the feel of something more serious."

Dusk nodded in agreement, his sharp eyes narrowing as he observed the various military personnel around them.

"Is it just me, or do I recognize a few faces here from our countries?" he asked quietly, his gaze locking onto a couple of familiar figures, "Looks like they're reaching out to Southeast Asian countries as well."

Dusk observed from the sidelines as someone announce that Major-General Kuh was here. The man stood tall in his late-forties, with the posture of someone who had seen more than his fair share of battlefields. Rugged yet refined, his physique remained sharp, a testament to his discipline. His eyes, hard and calculating, carried the weight of decades spent in warzones, each decision made under extreme pressure. Yet, there was an unmistakable arrogance in the way he held himself, his rigid posture speaking volumes of his pride and need for control.

As Kuh approached, Dusk could feel the subtle shift in the room—an air of authority that demanded attention, yet there was something almost imperious in it. His gaze flickered first to Vigil, a nod of recognition accompanying his words.

"Hwa-jungwi," Kuh said, his voice low and measured, "thank you for taking the time off from Rainbow to help with this. Your expertise is appreciated."

Then his attention shifted to Dokkaebi, and Dusk watched the change in Kuh's demeanor. The warmth he'd shown Vigil disappeared entirely, replaced by a cold, dismissive tone.

"Nam-hasa," he addressed her, his words laced with an unspoken warning, "don't cause any trouble. I trust you understand the importance of maintaining discipline during this event."

Dokkaebi stiffened, but she nodded, her expression careful. Dusk felt a twinge of surprise at the blatant bias in Kuh's treatment of her. It was a stark contrast to the neutral professionalism he'd expected from someone in the Major-General's position. But Dusk knew better than to make a move. This was Kuh's territory, and as a guest, he had no say in how things were handled. Still, the subtle tension simmering beneath the surface didn't sit well with him.

Major-General Kuh's eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the group, his posture unyielding.

"I heard you've brought some of your Rainbow colleagues to the event," he said, his voice laced with a hint of suspicion as he focused on Dokkaebi, "I trust you made appropriate choices for who to bring along?"

Dokkaebi, already tense from the earlier exchange, shifted her weight uneasily. She had been too careful, too wary of stepping out of line, and now the looming figure of Kuh was making her second-guess herself. As much as she wanted to keep things smooth, she wasn't about to show weakness. Before she could speak, however, Vigil cut in smoothly, his voice steady and controlled.

"Actually, I brought along some new colleagues from Southeast Asia for the event," he said, gesturing to the group.

"This is Dusk," he nodded toward the quiet Singaporean, "Sabit, Lockpick, and Chameleon. As for Dokkaebi, she wasn't sure who to bring without offending you, sir, so she decided to bring our colleagues from the U.S. Navy SEAL and Hong Kong's SDU instead, Blackbeard and Lesion."

Dokkaebi's eyebrows flicked up in surprise. She hadn't expected Vigil to cover for her—certainly not in front of Kuh. She was still trying to process the fact that he had defended her when everyone in the room knew that Kuh wasn't exactly a fan of hers, not to mention that Vigil was a personal favorite of Kuh's.

Kuh's face remained impassive, though the subtle tightening around his eyes spoke volumes.

"Hmm," he muttered, as if trying to find a reason to disagree, "I did not expect you to make a proper choice, Dokkaebi, but... I'll admit you did make a right one. As for you, Vigil, I'm surprised you brought people from backwater places to an event like this."

The four Southeast Asians—Dusk, Sabit, Lockpick, and Chameleon—held their ground, their expressions neutral. Inside, their blood simmered at the comment, but they knew better than to let it show. Professionalism was paramount. They'd learned that long ago in their respective forces, and they weren't about to give Kuh the satisfaction of seeing them react. Vigil's eyes flickered briefly toward them before he answered Kuh with a controlled calmness.

"We're all here to ensure the event runs smoothly, Major-General. Nothing more, nothing less."

Kuh's gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he simply nodded, his discontentment clearly still lingering in the air. But the moment had passed—at least for now.

The bunkroom was quiet, with only the soft buzz of the overhead lights breaking the silence. Dusk sat on the couch, adjusting his gear for the night. The others were either lost in their own thoughts or half-watching TV, but Lockpick's voice suddenly cut through the stillness.

"Backwater places," Lockpick muttered, his usually calm demeanor replaced with frustration, "What the hell did Kuh mean by that? I want to tear his head off."

Dusk glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Tenang saja, Arif," he said in his quiet, steady voice, "It's not surprising, especially here. There are always people in very modernized countries who look down on Southeast Asia. Even in my country, there's people who think themselves better than people from our neighboring countries. They just don't know better."

Lockpick let out a frustrated sigh but nodded.

"Still, it's annoying. Singapore's a modern, global city, and Malaysia's not too far off either. They've got the tech, the infrastructure… Both your countries can compete with Seoul in every way that matters, yet this bodoh lumps you all with the others."

"I know. But when it comes to Singapore, these people... They just assume we're a third-world country that got lucky and struck gold. They don't see the work and sacrifice that's gone into it."

"And Malaysia's not exactly clean-cut either. I mean, everyone knows about the 1MDB scandal, and then there's all the rural places up north that can't improve because the leaders there care more about their place in society and religion instead of improving quality of life…" Sabit added as he flipped the channels of the radio before giving up trying to find one that speaks English.

Lucy, lying by Dusk's feet, let out a sharp bark as if to punctuate his words.

Lockpick's shoulders relaxed a little. He still didn't understand why some people couldn't just see the truth, but Dusk's calm explanation had helped.

"By the way, Dusk, you sure you don't mind sleeping on the couch? I know you're doing it out of respect for our faith, but Sabit and I don't really mind Lucy's presence, you know?" Lockpick asked as he stare at the blanket on the couch where Dusk was seated.

"Yeah. Our family have a dog at home, although he stays in the garden and isn't allowed into the house, and my father's the imam of the neighborhood," Sabit added.

"Nah, it's fine. Besides, there's two beds per room, so…"

"Dusk, you can share rooms with me…" Chameleon offered as she stuck her head in from the back window.

"No thanks, I don't want to get shanked in the middle of the night, Psychonoko Nokotan," Dusk replied, but then he froze, and so did Sabit and Lockpick before all three of them turned to stare at their Vietnamese colleague.

"How are you outside the window? We're fucking three floors above ground!" Sabit yelled at Chameleon, who shrugged and replied, "Windows are pretty close, and there's safety railings so

"Go away! You want to get us into trouble?" Lockpick berated Chameleon, who stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared from view, the sounds of her climbing back into her room being heard.

"She's worse than Nøkk," Dusk grumbled as he went over and latched the back window of their room…

Hereford Base, England

In the library, Valkyrie leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she observed Phaya, who seemed unusually quiet. Sensing something was off, Valkyrie spoke up, her voice low but direct.

"Phaya," he began, "what's been going on with you lately? You've been acting... different around Dusk and Dokkaebi. What's up with that?"

Phaya sighed, running a hand through his short-cropped hair, the weight of his thoughts evident.

"I don't know, man. I really don't. After I visited my family during Operation Broken Signal, something just... clicked. I started questioning everything. The way I treated Dusk and Dokkaebi, the way I acted when I first joined Rainbow—it wasn't me. But I couldn't shake the hatred, not until recently. And now... now I don't know how to make it right."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow.

"You're talking about the way you were hostile toward Dusk when you first joined, right?"

Phaya nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I was an ass to him, but I couldn't see it until I stepped back and really thought about it. Thing is, Dusk and Dokkaebi—they don't seem to hold a grudge, but... I don't think they've forgiven me either. I don't know how to fix it."

Valkyrie took a deep breath, considering her words carefully.

"Phaya, you can't rush forgiveness. It doesn't work that way. What you did—how you treated them—it leaves a mark. You've got to earn that trust back. You've got to prove you're different. But don't take it too hard. Dokkaebi and Dusk being civil with you as of recent? Those are signs that they're trying, Phaya, but you've got to be patient. Give them time."

Phaya felt a small weight lift off his chest. He wasn't sure how long it would take, but Valkyrie was right. Forgiveness isn't something that is given so easily.

Incheon, South Korea

The morning sun beat down on the training grounds as Vigil and Dokkaebi panted, their bodies slick with sweat. The game of extreme tag had escalated into a near-sprint across the obstacle course, with both operators pushing their physical limits. Vigil had won this round, his tactical skills outmatching Dokkaebi's speed just barely.

"Okay, break," Vigil called out, stepping away to catch his breath, his eyes lingering on Dokkaebi, watching as she slowed her breathing, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Dokkaebi wiped the sweat from her forehead, her usual smirk replaced by a quiet intensity.

"You're getting faster," she muttered. "I'll get you next time."

Vigil chuckled but didn't let the matter drop.

"You've been tense lately. I've noticed it ever since we got back here. You okay?"

She hesitated, the words clearly weighing on her. After a beat, she sighed, sitting down on the grass, her shoulders sagging.

"I didn't want to see Kuh at all. Coming back here... it feels like stepping into a minefield. Rainbow had been my escape. I could leave all that behind. But now, it's all coming back."

Vigil gave her a knowing look, his expression softening. He took a seat beside her, adjusting his gear before replying.

"I get it. I didn't want to see North Korea again, either. But my past missions... they kept pulling me back, forcing me to infiltrate my birth country, to risk everything, over and over. Sometimes, you don't have a choice."

Dokkaebi glanced at him, her eyes searching his face. He was being unusually open.

"I guess you're right."

"Don't worry too much about Kuh," Vigil added, his tone steady, "Baek-jungjang is our overall commander. Kuh can't do anything to you without going through him first. You've got nothing to fear. Just focus on the assignment. The rest will sort itself out."

Dokkaebi nodded slowly, a small sense of relief starting to settle in. Maybe things weren't as bad as she'd been making them out to be. As Vigil and Dokkaebi were catching their breath, however, the sudden sound of footsteps broke the moment of quiet.

A group of 707th SMG operators approached, led by a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scowl on his face. Song Jung-Il, the group's leader, locked eyes with Vigil, a hint of disapproval on his features.

"Chul-Kyung," Jung-Il said, his tone sharp but controlled, "why are you training with the troublemaker?" He gestured toward Dokkaebi, his words dripping with subtle disdain.

Vigil didn't flinch, standing up slowly.

"It's none of your business who I train with," he replied calmly, not backing down.

"You're aware, aren't you? Eun-Hye is the reason Ok Yong-su left the 707th SMG. She took his place in Rainbow with that stupid hack of hers and he ended up quitting in embarrassment. She stole his rightful place."

Vigil's expression tightened, but he kept his voice steady.

"You have an issue with that, Jung-Il?" he asked, his gaze firm and unyielding.

The others in the group shifted uncomfortably, but none dared to speak out. Jung-Il, however, didn't seem ready to let it go. He remained unmoved, standing his ground.

Vigil sighed, a calm but deliberate decision taking shape in his mind.

"This isn't going anywhere," he muttered, glancing briefly at Dokkaebi before turning back to the group, "We're leaving. It's not worth it."

Jung-Il's voice dripped with disdain as he looked directly at Dokkaebi.

"Nam Eun-Hye, you're a problem for the 707th SMG. I hope Kuh gets rid of you soon."

Dokkaebi's hand twitched, ready to respond, but Vigil stepped in, his grip firm on her arm.

"Don't let him bait you," he advised quietly.

But Jung-Il wasn't done. Frustrated with the silence, he grabbed a water bottle and tossed it toward Dokkaebi, aiming for her face. Before the bottle could hit its mark, a hand shot out of nowhere, snatching it from the air with effortless precision. The group froze as Dusk, who had appeared seemingly out of thin air, crushed the bottle in his hand, causing the cap to pop off and water to spill everywhere. Behind him were Chameleon, Blackbeard and Lockpick.

"This how South Korean soldiers treat women nowadays?" he asked, his voice calm but carried an edge, eyes narrowing as he addressed Jung-Il, "Because the last time I worked with the 707th, they will beat up anyone that does something like this."

Jung-Il froze, clearly thrown off by Dusk's sudden appearance and show of strength. His cocky demeanor faltered for just a moment.

"Stay out of this, Singaporean," he snapped, trying to mask his unease.

Dusk didn't flinch. Instead, he casually dropped the crushed bottle and stepped forward. His posture radiated quiet intimidation, but he didn't need to say anything more. The group of SMG soldiers, visibly rattled, exchanged tense glances before Jung-Il motioned for them to leave. Without another word, they turned and walked off.

"Bye bye, losers," Chameleon taunted as she gave them the finger, causing Lockpick to grumble as he gently pushed the Vietnamese commando's hand down, chiding, "Don't give them more reason to pick a fight with us."

The sound of boots thudding against the mats echoed through the courtyard as soldiers from various countries prepared for the hand-to-hand sparring session. Major-General Kuh stood with his arms crossed, surveying the arena, a smug look on his face as he addressed the gathered officers and commanders.

"You see," Kuh began, his voice booming with pride, "the 707th SMG has developed superior tactics when cornered. The constant threat from the North demands constant innovation. We are always adapting, always evolving."

The room murmured in agreement, but it was an American colonel who spoke next, a smirk creeping onto his face.

"Well, Major-General, if your men are so well-prepared, how about a little demonstration? How about pitting your best against Rainbow?"

Kuh's eyes gleamed, the challenge accepted with barely a hesitation.

"Of course. We are confident in our abilities," he replied coolly, glancing toward Song Jung-Il, who stood by his side, already preparing his team.

Dokkaebi, standing nearby, exchanged a glance with Dusk, the weight of the situation settling in. She knew this was a calculated move by Kuh, a chance to belittle the Southeast Asian operatives in front of an international audience.

"He's trying to embarrass you guys, Dusk," Dokkaebi muttered, her eyes narrowing at the 707th.

Dusk, his expression unreadable as always, gave a small shrug.

"Let him try. Watch closely. You might get a good laugh."

His voice was steady, unbothered. The quiet confidence in his tone suggested that he wasn't worried in the slightest. Lockpick, Sabit, and Chameleon stood behind him, waiting and looking way too relaxed. Major-General Kuh nodded toward Song Jung-Il, signaling him to step into the ring. Jung-Il swaggered forward with a smirk, cracking his neck as he eyed Dusk and the other Southeast Asian operatives.

"Well, well," Jung-Il drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Always wondered how tough Southeast Asians are. Let's see if you're anything more than talk."

He locked eyes with Dusk, his gaze challenging. Dusk's expression remained impassive, his gaze flicking to the mat in front of him. Without a word, he raised a hand and gestured toward the center of the ring with one finger pointed at someone.

Jung-Il's brow furrowed, confused, as he turned to look in the direction Dusk indicated. His confident smirk immediately faltered when he saw Lockpick, the towering, muscular 218-centimetres-tall Indonesian, stepping into the square. Lockpick's smile was as wide as it was unsettling, his massive frame dwarfing Jung-Il's as his eyes glinted with amusement.

The referee signaled the start of the match, and ten seconds later, the fight was over, with Lockpick standing in the center of the square, arms crossed and a wide grin on his face as Jung-Il lay crushed on the mat, looking like he might die of embarrassment.

One after another, the rounds played out in hilariously one-sided fashion.

Sabit made quick work of his opponent, a former Taekwondo champion, effortlessly using Silat Harimau to send the man flying out of the square with just three moves. The crowd gasped, then erupted into a mix of astonished murmurs and chuckles.

Chameleon was up next, facing a burly male opponent. The fight didn't last more than three seconds as Chameleon nearly ended her opponent's entire bloodline with a single kick that had every male in the audience wincing and clutching their jewels instinctively. Chameleon simply shrugged, blowing a kiss to the crowd as she sauntered off the mat in victory.

Finally, it was Dusk's turn. As he stepped into the ring, Jung-Il leaned in toward the soldier facing him.

"Watch out for the Singaporean," he warned, voice low and serious, "Look at his hands. He's clearly a grappler. Don't get caught by him."

His opponent scoffed, dismissing the warning with a cocky laugh.

"Please, I'm not worried about some grappler."

A minute later, Dusk had his opponent in a tight submission hold, turning the man's legs into a pretzel. The man was gasping for breath, his face flushed with panic, while Dusk was yawning away, completely unbothered by the situation.

"I give up!" the South Korean begged, his voice strained.

As the referee signaled the victory, Dusk released the hold and walked off the square, stretching nonchalantly. Kuh watched, his face turning an alarming shade of red. Four of his best men had been completely outclassed by Southeast Asia's finest, and his smug boast just a few minutes ago now felt like a distant memory.

Sabit couldn't help but glance at Vigil, who was standing off to the side, watching with his usual calm demeanor.

"Was your Major-General really serious about this sparring?" Sabit asked, wiping the sweat off his brow, "These guys don't seem up to the task. They're a far cry from the 707th SMG I worked with back in Libya."

Vigil chuckled, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Those were Kuh's handpicked best. Not the full unit, though."

He nodded toward a group of men gathered at the sidelines, watching the sparring matches with amused expressions. They were also members of the 707th SMG, but unlike their colleagues in the ring, they were silent, their eyes sharp and calculating.

"The real 'best of the best' are over there. Those men have seen it all—dozens of successful operations across the globe and a decent body count each."

Sabit followed Vigil's gaze, noting the men's quiet confidence and the subtle signs of battle-hardened experience. Unlike their comrades in the ring who were trying to curry Kuh's favour, these men didn't need to show off. Their presence alone commanded respect.

"So, this whole thing was a show?" Sabit asked, raising an eyebrow, to which Vigil simply shrugged.

"Pretty much."

As the last of the matches wrapped up, the American colonel clapped his hands together, his smile wide as he looked over at the Rainbow operators.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said, voice loud and full of admiration, "Clearly, Rainbow knows who to recruit. Those Southeast Asian operators—unorthodox as hell, but damn effective. We could use more like them in the States."

Kuh, standing nearby with a clenched jaw, gave a stiff nod. He wasn't happy about it, but there was no denying the outcome.

"Yes, yes, they are... impressive," he said begrudgingly, his cold tone a far cry from the confidence he had shown earlier.

Blackbeard and Lesion, who had been watching from the sidelines, exchanged amused glances.

"I'll give them this—they've got guts to embarrass a high-ranking commander like that in front of everyone."

"It's one thing to beat someone in a fight, but to make it look that easy? That's a special kind of boldness."

Dokkaebi, who had been standing with Dusk, leaned over and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"You were right," she admitted, grinning, "I did get a good laugh. That was better than I expected."

Dusk just shrugged, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Meanwhile, Kuh glared at the group from across the room, his pride stung…

Hereford Base, England

The dim glow of the computer screen reflected off Clark's glasses as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the footage playing from Dusk's body camera. The grainy video of Operation Broken Signal flickered as Clark analyzed the movements of the Singaporean operative. His brow furrowed as he rewound a particular sequence—Dusk's efficiency, precision, and speed were far beyond what Clark expected from a Singaporean police officer, let alone a former member of Singapore's NDU.

As the video continued, Clark's suspicion only grew. His movements weren't just those of a trained operator—they were the reflexes of someone who had been honed in specialized environments.

Clark quickly moved on to review the profile of Dusk. He scrolled through mission reports, incident logs, and other Rainbow-related documents. As he sifted through the data, it became increasingly clear that Dusk was not who he seemed to be. A few things didn't add up—his combat capabilities, his previous career choices, his mysterious gaps in the timeline. There was more to Dusk than anyone was letting on.

With a sigh, Clark pulled up the contact information for Singapore's Minister of Defence. He initiated a video call, tapping his fingers as he waited for the connection to link.

When the Minister finally appeared on screen, Clark didn't waste time.

"Minister, I need to ask about Lieutenant Keith Sng Wei Hao. I've been reviewing his file, and there's more to this man than what's being disclosed."

The Minister's voice wavered for a moment before he responded.

"You mean Inspector Sng Wei Hao. I suggest you contact the Minister of Home Affairs, as Sng is no longer part of the military."

"No, Minister. I've gone through his records and footage of his combat capabilities. There's something you're hiding about him. I need to know what it is."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, the Minister's voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

"I had a feeling Rainbow would find something odd about him when he joined your organization. Very well... We've been expecting your inquiry. But understand this—it's not a simple matter. What you're about to uncover is far beyond what you think."

Clark leaned back in his chair, a sense of unease settling over him.

"I need to know everything."

The Minister sighed, clearly reluctant.

"Our government figured that Rainbow will realize that Sng is not some ordinary police officer. Fine. I'm authorized and ordered to release information about Sng to Rainbow when a request is made, anyways. But this must stay between the two of us, understand?"

Clark's eyes narrowed, nodding his head as the Minister of Defence continued.

"The sealed files of Keith Sng are not something I can casually share over an Internet connection. Even with Rainbow's encryption and security measures, it is simply too risky, especially since it concerns Singapore's national security. If you insist on learning the truth, Director Clark, you'll have to come to Singapore and read these files yourself."

Clark sighed.

"In that case, when can you arrange a date?"

"You may come down anytime, Director. Just give the word and I will have everything laid out for your eyes."

Incheon, South Korea

The night was dark and quiet as a hooded figure clad in a black balaclava slipped through the shadows, blending seamlessly with the darkness of the base. His movements were deliberate, calculated—trained. His eyes scanned the area, confirming that the coast was clear before he approached a nondescript building, entering through a side door that had been left ajar.

Inside, he moved quickly but silently, navigating the hallways with the ease of someone familiar with the layout. His target was specific—a server room deep within the heart of the base. As he reached the door, he paused, listening for any sounds that might indicate a patrol was nearby. Once certain the area was clear, he stepped inside.

The room was cool and sterile, the hum of machinery filling the air. He made his way to a particular server, his fingers moving swiftly as he plugged in a small, inconspicuous device into the USB port. Within moments, the data began to transfer, flowing silently onto the device. He glanced over his shoulder, alert to any sudden movements.

The process took only a few minutes, but in the world of espionage, even seconds felt like an eternity. Once the data was copied, he removed the device and turned to leave, his steps light as he retraced his path. Just as he neared the exit, he froze. A patrol was nearby. With the precision of a seasoned operative, he ducked into a dark corner, holding his breath as the guards passed by. When the coast was clear, he slipped out, disappearing into the night.

He made his way to a nearby bush, where a motorbike was hidden. After a quick glance to ensure he wasn't being followed, he revved the engine and sped off, weaving through the quiet streets of Incheon.

The ride was swift, the wind whipping past his face as he eventually reached an abandoned power station on the outskirts of the city. The place was desolate, the perfect spot for a meeting no one could trace.

He entered, pulling off his hood and balaclava. Standing in the shadows was Mercury, the bespectacled Malaysian member of Wu Hsing's squad. The man handed him the device, their eyes meeting in brief recognition.

"You've got it?" Mercury asked, his voice calm, but the tension in his gaze was unmistakable.

The hooded figure nodded as he pulled his hood off and removed his balaclava, revealing himself to be Beom, one of the Keres Legion's newest executors. Mercury gave a slight nod, his eyes now studying Beom with an unreadable expression.

"You're late, but we'll make it work."

Beom handed over the device, the weight of its contents far more significant than either of them could immediately comprehend. The real game was about to begin.

Lieutenant-General Baek sat behind his polished oak desk, reviewing a set of reports, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the progress of his operators. Across from him, Major-General Pak tapped a pen against his leg, clearly not as at ease.

"I'm proud of Hwa and Nam," Baek said, his voice steady, "They've proven themselves in Rainbow, and I'm sure they've made the 707th SMG proud."

Pak didn't immediately respond, his face tight with concern. Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

"I trust Hwa. But with Nam… I'm worried about Kuh. With her back in South Korea, I fear he might try to sabotage her progress. He'll do anything to bring her down."

Baek's gaze sharpened, his expression hardening.

"You're worrying too much. Kuh answers to me, not the other way around. I won't let anything happen to Nam. Not under my watch."

Pak didn't look entirely convinced, but before he could respond, the door to the office swung open. A subordinate stepped in, holding a secure tablet in his hands, face pale.

"Sir," the subordinate began, "We've detected and successfully disrupted an attempt to hack into the 707th SMG's servers. The source… it's someone we know. The same individual responsible for the attempt to destroy our economy a few years ago."

Baek's eyes narrowed. "Confirm the identity. Now."

The subordinate nodded, quickly inputting commands.

"It's him, sir. The hacker known as Mercury."

Pak clenched his fists.

"Isn't he supposed to be dead? Ah, right, Rainbow's alert message to us was that he faked his death and is now working for the Keres Legion. Looks like he's coming after us again."

The subordinate's fingers danced over the tablet, his brow furrowing.

"Sir, there's something odd. Despite the hack, no files were copied, disrupted, or even an attempt to steal. It's almost like he just… wanted to get in."

Baek and Pak exchanged a glance, both sensing the same unsettling feeling.

"I don't like this," Pak muttered, "Mercury isn't known for holding back—especially not after the damage he caused last time."

Baek leaned forward, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Mercury… He was the one who tried to destroy our country's economy a few years ago, right? A rogue Malaysian hacker working for a rogue North Korean general with his own agenda."

"Yes, but what's more troubling is that he didn't finish the job. He never hesitates, never leaves a trace unless there's a specific reason. This isn't like him… Wait, Nam defeated Mercury the last time they crossed paths, during his initial cyber-attack on our economy. She outplayed him and shut down his operation."

Baek's jaw clenched. "You think this is him challenging her for a rematch?"

"Perhaps. This might be Mercury's way of calling Nam out. And he won't stop until he gets it."

Baek leaned back, his expression calculating.

"Then we give him what he wants. But we'll make sure he doesn't win this time either."