READ THE Note:I usually write around 2,000 words per chapter, but now I release them in batches. So don't be surprised if a single release includes the content of 2 standard webnovel chapters. No complaints—you're just getting more at once.

chapter 5 : Stark Hyperspace War 3

Celeste Morne straightened, regaining some of her composure. Her expression hardened as she stepped forward. "Return my lightsaber."

Jin-Woo barely reacted, but at that moment, another notification appeared in his vision.

[ Notification: New Quest Available ]

He didn't even need to read it. He already knew what it would say.

Something predictable. Kill her or convince her to join your side, whatever it takes.

Instead, he simply tossed the lightsaber back to her.

Celeste caught it, hesitation flickering across her face for just a second before she ignited the yellow blade. The golden hue illuminated the confined space of the ship, casting sharp shadows.

"Even if you destroyed my greatest burden," she said, her grip steady, "I still don't trust you. You're—"

"Get out." Jin- woo said

The words came so suddenly that Celeste froze. "...What?"

Jin-Woo didn't repeat himself. He simply gestured lazily toward the exit, his blue eyes unreadable.

Celeste's mind raced. Shouldn't he be trying to convince me? Or kill me?

Every Sith she had encountered would have either tried to convert her or silence her. Even the Jedi, self-righteous as they were, would have tried to "reason" with her.

But this man—**this thing—**was just... telling her to leave?

"Get out," Jin-Woo said again, this time with a slight edge in his voice. "You're dirtying my ship."

Celeste felt a twinge of offense.

She had been trapped for thousands of years, bound to a cursed relic, watching history pass her by—and this was how she was dismissed?

But as she looked into Jin-Woo's unbothered gaze, something inside her hesitated.

There was no fear in his posture, no urgency in his words.

Because he knew, just as well as she did—if she tried anything, she'd lose.

Celeste clicked her tongue, extinguishing her blade. "...You really are a very hated character."

Without another word, she turned toward the exit.

But as she glanced out the ship's viewport, her steps slowed. Everything was different.

The stars, the ships, the planets in the distance—none of it was as she remembered.

It wasn't just the years that had passed—it was millennia.

The galaxy had moved on without her. Her fingers twitched slightly, but she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

44 BBY. That was the year the man before her had mentioned.

The realization hit harder than she expected.

And so, instead of leaving, she turned back.

When she did, she saw Jin-Woo sitting casually, tossing a red kyber crystal between his fingers as if it were nothing more than a trinket.

Celeste folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. "A Sith kyber crystal, and you toss it around like some cheap bauble?"

Jin-Woo didn't even look up. "Don't tell me you can't adapt to modern society, kuso baba."

Celeste blinked. "...What?"

Jin-Woo finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "It means 'damn granny.' A relic like you, frozen in time for a thousand years."

A vein popped on Celeste's forehead. She forced herself to stay calm. Breath in. Breath out. He's just messing with you. Don't kill him.

Instead, she smirked, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "Alright, asshole. If I'm an old relic, at least let this 'granny' hitch a ride. You claim this ship is yours, right? Then at least give a Jedi Master a lift."

Jin-Woo's gaze flicked toward her for a moment before returning to the kyber crystal. "Jedi Master?" he repeated, sounding vaguely amused.

Celeste shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, 'ancient fossil' and all that. But I can still kick your ass."

Jin-Woo finally stopped tossing the crystal, catching it in his palm. He leaned back, studying her.

Celeste smirked. "What? You gonna throw me out into space?"

Jin-Woo's gaze shifted slightly—to Dreypa's Oubliette, the ancient Sith stasis coffin sitting beside him.

Celeste followed his eyes, instantly understanding what he meant. Her smirk vanished.

"No." She stepped forward, her voice firm. "I am not going back into that thing. You're out of your damn mind if you think I'll let that happen."

Jin-Woo remained unmoved. "Your morals and mine are different. You still have your goody-two-shoes Jedi Code. You're hotheaded and reckless. You'll just be a liability until I finish most of my problems."

Celeste crossed her arms. "What problems? I'll have you know I'm from a very ancient era, and I'm a Jedi Master. There's no problem I can't handle."

Jin-Woo's expression didn't change. "You couldn't even handle a cheap zombie talisman that I crushed under my boot. You already failed the first criteria."

Celeste mind went blank for a second as she processed his words.

Then, she thought. And thought very, very, very hard. This bastard destroyed the Muur Talisman as if it was nothing.

A Sith artifact that corrupted entire civilizations. A relic that had survived thousands of years, shaped wars, created monsters—and he stepped on it like it was a cockroach.

Jin-Woo's sheer disregard for it was more terrifying than the talisman itself.

But Celeste wasn't the type to back down.

Her hand twitched toward her lightsaber. "I swear to the Force, if you even think about—"

A set of massive, razor-sharp claws suddenly materialized at her throat.

Cold, chitinous limbs locked her in place, pressing just enough to make her very aware of how easily her neck could be snapped open.

From the shadows, Beru emerged. His mandibles clicked, his red gaze gleaming as he spoke.

"My liege," Beru said, unfazed, "this bag of meat is noisy. Shall I remove her?"

Celeste didn't move. Her breath was controlled, but she could feel her heartbeat hammering. This thing—this monster—had moved so fast she hadn't even sensed it until now.

Jin-Woo didn't look up. "Don't kill her."

Beru's claws tightened slightly.

"But," Jin-Woo continued, his tone casual, "you can spar with her however you want."

Celeste swallowed. She had almost forgotten. This man… wasn't just powerful.

He commanded an army. Not just any army—but a force stronger than Karness Muur himself. That was why Muur lost. That was why he was nothing compared to him.

She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. "How long are you planning to keep me in stasis?"

Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly. "The real question is—how long are you gonna stay an idiot with that goody two-shoes Jedi Code?"

Celeste sighed. At this point, she was too tired to argue.

"...Fine," she muttered, stepping toward Dreypa's Oubliette. With a final glance at Jin-Woo, she slid inside. "Wake me up as soon as possible. Promise me."

Jin-Woo didn't respond.

He simply pressed the button.

Hissss—

The stasis field reactivated, locking Celeste Morne in suspended animation once more.

Jin-Woo watched as the coffin sealed shut.

Then, he smirked. "You've done well, Beru. Tricking her into a tight spot."

Beru bowed deeply, his mandibles clicking in satisfaction before vanishing back into Jin-Woo's shadow.

Jin-Woo simply smiled. Then, the system notification appeared.

...

[ Notification: Quest Completed (With Hidden Choices) ]

Quest Title Modified: Due to Player Successfully Choosing the Third Option.

Quest Title: "Choices About to Come: Be a Sigma."

Quest Title: Be a Sigma.

Description:

You didn't kill her.

You didn't convince her.

You ignored her. (Optional Objective Completed: Return Her to Stasis.)

Rewards:

Title: "Sigma" (Buffs aura farming and charismatic speech toward crowds.) (Level:Adept .)

Optional Reward: Skill – "Muur Talisman" (Transforms numerous beings into Rakghouls organically, not as shadows.)

Note: Muur Talisman's ability can be used without the talisman itself, as it has now been categorized as a skill.

...

Jin-Woo chuckled, then turned away from the sealed oubliette, moving toward the hatch and stepping into the hangar.

The moment he did, he was greeted by a crowd of armed men. Blasters, vibroblades, and smug grins—it was clear they had been waiting for him.

At the center of them all, standing with the confidence of a man who owned the place,

was Iaco Stark.

Dressed in a long coat lined with smuggled riches, the infamous pirate lord .

"Welcome, my new friend," Stark said smoothly. "I suppose you did survive that haunted ship, which… honestly, surprises me."

Jin-Woo remained silent.

Draped in a heavy cloak, his face was mostly obscured—save for a single portion, revealing only his piercing blue eyes.

Stark's smirk widened. "No words? Fine, I'll get to the point." His gaze flicked to the ship behind Jin-Woo before settling back on him.

"May I take this ship off your hands?"

Jin-Woo remained silent. But at that moment—

[Notification: Event Quest Activated]

Quest: Stark Hyperspace War

Description: Gain a bounty of 10,000,000 credits from the war that is about to begin.

Reward:

Shard of Kaiburr Crystal

Companion Voucher x1

Mantle's Approach Teleportation Location Voucher x1

Penalty for Failure: Half of Force abilities will be removed.

Choices: Yes / No

Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. He pressed yes.

From the outside, however, it looked like he was disrespecting Stark in the worst way possible. Because while he was selecting his quest choice, he had casually raised a finger into the air. Like he was dismissing them.

The reaction was immediate.

A large pirate, built like a tank, stepped forward, his face twisted with rage. "OY! Who the hell are you pointing at?!" he snarled. "This is Iaco Stark, leader of the Stark Commercial Combine! You wanna—"

The pirate froze mid-sentence. A thin black line ran across his torso. A second later—his body split in two. His torso slid from his lower half, a clean, instant cut. Blood sprayed across the cold hangar floor.

Jin-Woo stood there, motionless.

Vectivus' lightsaber was already ignited. A black blade, humming softly. His blue eyes glowed faintly as he tilted his head. "It's a good day to be a pirate."

The entire hangar froze. A few pirates instinctively took a step back. Others reached for their weapons—but hesitated. Because the man before them had moved so fast that none of them even saw the blade ignite.

Iaco Stark's smirk wavered. Jin-Woo… wasn't normal. And now—he had all of their attention.

The hangar lights flickered. The air, once filled with the hum of machinery and the murmurs of mercenaries, turned deathly silent.

Jin-Woo extended his hand. He use his ability [Skill – Muur Talisman]

A dark, unseen force spread like a sickness—a whisper in the air, a pulse in the Force. Then, the first scream pierced the silence.

One of Stark's men clutched his throat, convulsing. His skin darkened, veins bulged and twisted, his body snapping unnaturally as his flesh warped.

Then—he screeched.

A sickening, distorted howl ripped through the hangar, drowning out the terrified shouts of the pirates.

Iaco Stark took a step back, eyes wide. "Wha—what the hell is this?!"

Jin-Woo didn't respond. He simply kept walking. And the plague spread.

Pirates fell to their knees, screaming, their bodies breaking, twisting, mutating. Their weapons clattered to the floor as their fingers elongated into claws, their mouths split open into jagged, gnashing maws.

One man tried to run. His breath came in short gasps, his boots slamming against the metal floor.

He never made it five steps.

A Rakghoul, its body still twitching from its grotesque transformation, lunged.

Its claws ripped into his back.

A wet, gurgling scream echoed through the base as blood splattered against the walls.

Stark's men—his once-loyal army—were becoming something else.

Something not human. Not alive. Not dead.

Iaco Stark bolted.

He shoved a dying pirate out of the way, his breath ragged as he ran toward the emergency bunker deep inside his base.

Behind him, the sounds of snarling, shrieking horrors echoed through the halls.

He didn't dare look back.

The hallways were turning into a graveyard—bodies twitching, mutating, groans and choked cries filling the air as more of his men succumbed.

The lights flickered. Somewhere behind him, he heard footsteps.

Not the Rakghouls. Something calmer. More deliberate.

Stark felt his blood run cold. He knew who it was. He didn't stop running.

His feet pounded against the metal floor, his heartbeat roaring in his ears.

He reached the bunker doors, slamming his hand against the console.

"Come on, come on—!"

The doors hissed open just as something moved in the shadows behind him.

For just a second, Stark caught a glimpse of him—the figure in the cloak, walking through the carnage as if it was nothing.

Jin woo wasn't running. He wasn't rushing. He was just walking.

Like the destruction around him didn't matter. Like none of this was even worth his attention. The doors slammed shut.

Inside the bunker, Stark collapsed against the wall, his breath coming in shaky gasps.

At the base, Jin-Woo continued to walk, his steps slow and deliberate. Entire sections of the base were already overrun, filled with the grotesque, twitching forms of newly spawned Rakghouls. The infection was spreading like wildfire, yet Jin-Woo remained untouched, moving through the carnage with eerie calm.

Then, the heavy footfalls of approaching reinforcements echoed through the corridors.

The Enforcers had arrived.

Unlike the ragged pirates who had fallen moments ago, these were Stark's elite mercenaries—seasoned killers armed to the teeth.

Each one was clad in reinforced blast armor, modified with durasteel plating thick enough to tank direct blaster fire. Their helmets had built-in thermal vision, and their weapons weren't standard-issue—DC-17 blaster carbines, vibroblades, wrist-mounted flamethrowers, and disruptor rifles.

These weren't thugs. These were the best Stark had.

One of them, their squad leader, raised his weapon and called out. "If we kill you, this monstrosity will be over!"

Jin-Woo didn't respond.

Instead, he simply **raised a hand—**and ignited his lightsaber.

The black blade hissed to life, casting a dark glow in the flickering lights of the base.

The squad leader took a step back, eyes narrowing. "We got a Jedi here! A Jedi—"

Another enforcer scoffed, adjusting his grip on his weapon. "Do you think that's a Jedi? As far as I know, Jedi use their magic tricks—not plagues."

Jin-Woo raised a hand.[Force Lightning]

Black lightning erupted from his fingertips.

The crackling energy surged forward, tearing through the enforcers in an instant. Their screams barely had time to leave their throats before their bodies convulsed violently, muscles seizing as the black current ripped them apart from the inside. The smell of burning flesh and ozone filled the air.

Blaster fire rained toward Jin-Woo from all directions.

Without hesitation, he moved through the storm of lasers, his lightsaber whirling effortlessly, each strike deflecting the incoming bolts as if they were nothing. Every motion was precise, every block and parry without wasted movement.

Then, a deep, mechanical hum filled the air.

A heavy cannon fired—directly at .

A shockwave erupted as the explosion consumed him.

The enforcers cheered, their leader raising a fist.

From above, the pilot of a modified starship laughed over the comms. "Hell yeah! We got him! We got—"

His words died in his throat. The ship stopped hung in the air, trembling—gripped by an unseen force. [Telekinesis]

Inside the cockpit, alarms blared, the control stick locked in place. The pilot's breathing turned ragged. "Wait—what the hell—?! I can't—"

Then, the ship collapsed inward.

Metal twisted, screeched, then imploded, crushing itself like it was gripped by a giant's hand. The wreckage dropped from the sky like a discarded toy, slamming into the base below with a deafening crash.

Jin-Woo stepped out from the smoke of the cannon blast, completely unharmed.

He barely even looked at the burning wreckage behind him.

Instead, he extended a hand once more.

This time, it wasn't lightning. It wasn't telekinesis.

It was something else.

The air shifted.

A ripple of dark energy unfolded around him. Shadows twisted, flickering unnaturally.

[Force Phantom]

Then—they appeared. The Force Phantoms.

Unlike Darth Vectivus' Force Phantoms, which required rituals, planning, and careful control, Jin-Woo summoned them effortlessly.. They were half-formed spirits, twisted echoes of the dead—not truly alive, not truly gone.

The enforcers hesitated.

The figures before them weren't solid. They floated, their skeletal frames wreathed in ghostly darkness. Their eyes—hollow voids—stared directly through them.

One of the enforcers took an involuntary step back. "What… what the hell are those?!"

Jin-Woo glanced at them, expression unreadable.

"Vectivus was right," he muttered, watching the phantoms twitch and flicker. "This is nothing more than a spooky ghost."

He raised a hand, making a single silent gesture.

The order was clear. Kill those who still hold weapons. Eliminate those who resist. But if they surrender, leave them. This section of the base still has its use.

The phantoms moved. The temperature plummeted.

The enforcers barely had time to react before the wraiths lunged.

The first victim let out a strangled scream as a phantom phased through his chest—and then ripped his soul out. His body collapsed like a lifeless husk, his eyes wide in frozen terror.

Blaster fire erupted, desperate, chaotic, but it did nothing.

A pirate swung his vibroblade, his hands shaking. His blade passed straight through the phantom.

The wraith turned its hollowed gaze toward him.

Cold hands gripped his shoulders.

The man convulsed violently, his breath stolen. The light in his eyes dimmed as his very essence was drained. When his body hit the ground, it was already rotting.

Another enforcer tried to run.

A phantom appeared before him without a sound.

He skidded to a stop, his heart hammering.

Then—clawed fingers plunged into his chest.

The enforcer let out a choked gurgle as the phantom tore his heart out, its spectral hand still dripping with essence. His lifeless body collapsed onto the cold floor.

All around, the mercenaries screamed.

Some threw down their weapons, hands raised in surrender. They pressed themselves against the walls, shaking, too afraid to move.

The wraiths ignored them.

They only targeted those who still held their weapons.

The remaining fighters were slaughtered within seconds.

The last one—a heavy enforcer in full durasteel armor—backed away, panting. His shaking hands clutched a disruptor rifle, his knuckles white.

He fired. Nothing happened. The phantom reached forward. The man screamed as his body turned to bloodyshreds .

The wraiths stood motionless, awaiting their master's next command.

The surviving pirates who had dropped their weapons trembled against the walls, sweat dripping down their faces.

Some refused to look up. Others averted their eyes from Jin-Woo entirely, as if making eye contact would seal their fate.

Chapter 6 : Stark Hyperspace War 4

Meanwhile, inside the so-called 'safe' bunker—Iaco Stark gripped his communicator with shaking hands, his breath ragged. "This is Stark! Does anyone copy?! Hello?! DOES ANYONE—"

The bunker door exploded inward. The reinforced durasteel was ripped apart like paper, torn asunder by spectral hands. The shrieking wraiths poured in, their eyeless forms fixated on the man inside.

Stark stumbled backward, his communicator falling to the floor. Then—they grabbed him. Cold, intangible fingers wrapped around his limbs. The wraiths dragged him forward, his boots scraping uselessly against the floor. He fought, kicking, gasping, but there was nothing to struggle against.

And then—he saw him.

The same man . The same unreadable blue eyes.

Jin-Woo stood waiting, unmoving, as Stark was dropped in front of him like an offering. The pirate didn't speak. His breath came in short gasps, his heartbeat pounding in his skull.

Jin-Woo raised a hand. A simple gesture. The meaning was clear. We need to talk. Somewhere quieter.

Stark's body went rigid. He knew exactly what that meant. He shook his head frantically. "No. No, no, no—you might kill me in my office—"

Jin-Woo tilted his head, his voice as calm as ever. "If you're useless, I'll kill you now."

Stark froze.

Jin-Woo's eyes didn't waver. His tone was flat, absolute. "The only difference is you might live longer."

Iaco Stark led Jin-Woo through the ruined corridors of his base, his steps uneasy, shoulders tense. The survivors—pirates, mercenaries, smugglers—watched in utter silence.

Jin-Woo ignored them. The heavy cloak draped over his form, his face obscured—save for a single portion, revealing only his piercing blue eyes.

Whispers spread among the survivors, hushed and fearful.

"The Plague Man…"

"The Wraith Conjurer…"

"He didn't kill everyone. Why? Why did he leave some of us alive?"

No one dared to ask aloud.

The walk was long, but Jin-Woo never broke pace. His steps were measured, slow, deliberate. It was Stark who was sweating.

Finally, they reached his office.

The doors slid open, revealing a lavish but fortified chamber, dimly lit and lined with holoprojectors. Unlike the rest of the base, it was untouched by the chaos outside.

And standing inside—waiting—were two heavily armed guards.

Each one was clad in custom durasteel armor, reinforced with built-in energy shielding, their helmets covering their entire faces. They weren't ordinary enforcers. These were Iaco Stark's elite bodyguards.

They carried electrostaves—long, two-meter weapons crackling with energy, capable of overloading a lightsaber's blade upon impact. At their sides, they carried heavy blaster pistols, and judging from their stance, their fingers were already twitching toward the triggers.

Stark exhaled, forcing a chuckle. "I hope my guards don't offend you."

Jin-Woo said nothing. His silence was worse. The air in the room grew heavier.

The guards didn't shift, didn't speak. But their grips on their weapons tightened.

Stark cleared his throat. "May I know your na—"

"Joever Bideney ," Jin-Woo interrupted. "That's my name."

Stark blinked. Once. Twice. His lips parted, as if he wanted to question it, but the sheer absurdity of this man—**who had just turned his base into a horror movie—**was enough to stop him.

"...Right. Sir Joever Bideney ," Stark said slowly. "I can offer compensation since I seem to have… miscalculated the situation."

Jin-Woo didn't even blink. "Just explain to me—you're going to war with the Republic for the first time. Tell me your plan."

Stark hesitated. "...Before that, I need to know. Are you an agent of the Republic? Some kind of Jedi secret weapon?"

Jin-Woo scoffed. "Since when do Jedi brutally kill everyone? I'm on my own side."

Stark exhaled through his nose. "...Alright."

He walked toward a console in the center of the office. A holoprojector flickered to life, displaying a rotating image of a star system. He gestured toward it.

"This is the Qotile system, where the first battle will take place."

The image zoomed in, revealing a single, heavily industrialized planet.

"This is Troiken," Stark continued. "A planet on the Mid Rim, valuable because of its location—it's a major trade route intersection, connecting multiple hyperspace lanes. Normally, the Republic would never let someone like me get control of a planet like this, but they made a mistake."

Jin-Woo glanced at him. "What mistake?"

Stark smirked. "A supply chain disaster."

The hologram shifted, displaying multiple fleet movements across the Outer Rim.

"For the past few years, I've been cutting into Republic supply lines," Stark explained. "Hijacking their shipments, rerouting trade routes, and bleeding their economy dry little by little. The Jedi barely noticed because they were too busy dealing with crime syndicates and internal disputes. And now?"

He gestured toward the fleet movements.

"The Republic needs to move medical supplies to their outermost systems, but they don't have enough ships to do it safely. If they try, they'll spread themselves too thin."

Jin-Woo nodded slightly. "So, what's your move?"

Stark's grin widened. "I offer them a deal."

Jin-Woo raised an eyebrow.

"I tell them I have a 'safe' hyperspace route through the Mid Rim. I promise that if they pay me, I'll escort their supply ships without interference. They don't have much choice—they either take the deal, or they let their own people die from lack of supplies."

Jin-Woo's gaze didn't waver. "And then?"

"And then I betray them." Stark answered

The hologram shifted again, displaying Republic fleets entering Stark-controlled space.

"The moment their supply ships enter my territory, I cut them off. Blockade them. Trap them. Then, I demand twice the amount of credits for their release."

Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly. "And if they refuse?"

Stark's smirk turned sharp. "Then I start a war."

The hologram zoomed in again, highlighting Stark's fleet—pirate vessels, stolen Republic ships, heavily modified freighters outfitted with illegal weaponry.

"The Republic thinks I'm just a pirate," Stark said, crossing his arms. "But I've spent years building this fleet. I've got hundreds of ships, thousands of men, and I know their trade routes better than they do."

Jin-Woo remained silent. He understood now. This wasn't just some random pirate raid.

Stark's smirk faltered slightly. His instincts told him this man—this Joever Bideney—saw straight through him.

"You're still hiding something," Jin-Woo said, his voice even.

Stark exhaled, rubbing his temples. "...Yeah. I can't hide things from you, can I?" He motioned toward the holoprojector, and the display changed. "I have something that gives me an edge—a Navcomputer Virus. If I inject it into their fleet's systems, I can turn their ships into sitting ducks. Their hyperdrives? Dead. Their navigation systems? Wiped. They'll be stranded, defenseless and of course I got someone who will spread it ."

Jin-Woo nodded. "Good. But I want to add more mayhem. I'll bring in a third force—the Trade Federation."

Stark's head snapped toward him. "...Huh? I'm sorry, what?"

Jin-Woo leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Make sure your forces spread my name—make the Republic think I'm a bigger threat than you. Get me a bounty of 10 million credits."

Stark blinked. Then, he barked out a laugh. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you're asking? Fighting the Republic is already a nightmare. You think adding the Trade Federation will make this easier?"

Jin-Woo didn't respond. He just watched him.

Stark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...Alright, listen. You want to cause mayhem? Fine. But let me explain something first."

He changed the hologram again.

"Going to war against the Republic means dealing with their Jedi. You probably don't care about that, but my men do. A Republic fleet alone is a nightmare, but a Jedi leading them? That's a slaughter."

The display zoomed in on key Republic fleets stationed near Qotile.

"My strategy works because I lure them in. I make them believe this is just a ransom operation. If they think I'm just holding their ships hostage, they'll negotiate. But if the Republic sees a full-scale war coming? They'll send their full forces. And if we add the Trade Federation into the mix? That's not just war—that's a galactic crisis."

Stark pointed at the map.

"The Trade Federation doesn't fight clean. They use droid armies, battleships, and endless credits to fund their wars. If they smell blood, they'll send their fleets in droves. And do you know what happens when the Republic fights a droid army?"

He zoomed in on a recent Republic battle record.

"The Jedi take command. They lead the front lines. And if the Jedi are fully involved? That means the Republic Senate will authorize full military response. Not just a small fleet. All of it."

Stark turned back to Jin-Woo.

"You want chaos? You'll get it. But if this goes too far? The Republic won't stop until every last pirate, mercenary, and anyone associated with us is hunted to extinction."

Jin-Woo's smirk didn't fade. "I'll make the Trade Federation the third force. They won't ally with the Republic… but they won't ally with you either."

Stark narrowed his eyes. "Then what's the point?"

"When their ships arrive, you can continue your fight as planned. If you're smart, you can even loot both sides. Meanwhile, my own army will cause mayhem from the inside."

Stark's fingers tapped against his desk. "And they won't be allied with me either?"

Jin woo Said "No."

Jin-Woo leaned forward slightly. "Your Navcomputer Virus is a good tool, but I don't think it'll be necessary. I'll be doing the heavy lifting."

Stark exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "You're going to use that plague ability again, aren't you? Like you did here." He gestured vaguely to the carnage outside. "And your ghost army. Fine. I can understand that. But nothing you've shown me can replace what the Nav Virus does."

Jin-Woo chuckled. "Not in this galaxy, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned back, eyes gleaming. Offensive Bias… it has to be at Zeta Halo or Mantle's Approach. But I'm confident it's at Zeta Halo. The Grand Edict deployed it to fight the Endless. That means it's still out there.

If he found Offensive Bias, he wouldn't just have a tool to hack enemy fleets. He'd have one of the most dangerous military AIs ever created

Jin-Woo then asked, "How long until this war event starts?"

Iaco Stark exhaled, rubbing his chin. "Three days."

Jin-Woo thought, That's more than enough. Just in case… I need to be prepared if I have to fight the most powerful AI the Forerunners ever made.

Jin-Woo's gaze flicked to Stark. "I need a room. Doesn't matter how much space—three minutes."

Stark hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Sure, you can use my bedroom. It's in my office. Just don't break anything important." He motioned toward the back, complying without question, though there was clear curiosity in his expression.

Jin-Woo nodded once, stepping forward and locking the door behind him.

Meanwhile, outside…

Iaco Stark leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the table. His mind raced. I need to know what the hell he's doing in there.

He turned to his elite guards, men who had been with him through countless skirmishes. They were professionals—hardened killers, ex-Republic commandos, and pirates who had survived more battles than they could count.

"Give me a hologram feed or something. I don't care what—I need to see what's happening in there. I need to know what makes this guy tick."

The guards exchanged glances before nodding. One of them immediately moved toward a console, fingers flying over the interface.

"Sir, we have multiple surveillance systems in this building, but that door is reinforced and shielded against basic scans. We can try and override it, but it might take a minute," the tech specialist reported.

Stark exhaled, rubbing his chin. "I don't care what it takes. Get me eyes inside."

The guards nodded again, quickly working to bypass the security locks. Stark leaned forward, eyes locked on the screen as they attempted to infiltrate the feed.

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Jin-Woo stood in complete silence. He reached into his system inventory and pulled out a voucher—[Zeta Halo (Halo Installation 07) Location Teleportation Voucher].

The paper was plain, but when he looked closely, instructions were written across it in simple text: Tear me.

Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. He tore the voucher in two.

In an instant, space warped above him. A massive portal burst open at the ceiling, distorting reality itself. The room was bathed in an eerie blue glow as the gateway stabilized.

And then, for a brief moment—a fraction of a second—it saw him.

A massive red mechanical eye, surrounded by three smaller glowing red orbs, locked onto him through the portal.

Jin-Woo didn't flinch. There it is. Offensive Bias. My guess was right.

Then, before he could react, slipspace expanded beneath his feet. An unseen force pulled at him, dragging him upward—into the portal. And then he was gone.