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 7 : Stark Hyperspace war 5 : halo Infinite

Jin-Woo walked through the vast metallic corridors of Installation 07 / zeta halo for nearly thirty minutes.

Nothing. No Covenant. No Banished. No UNSC. No Master Chief.

He exhaled slightly, relieved. The last thing he needed was an unnecessary fight—especially against him.

I'd rather not kill my favorite character if I can help it.

As he stepped further into the installation, a faint hum echoed through the air. A golden light flickered ahead, and from the ceiling, a floating construct descended.

A Monitor. Its eye pulsed with energy as it hovered toward him, scanning him with precision. Its metallic carapace gleamed under the artificial lighting of the Halo's interior.

Then, with a crisp, neutral tone, it spoke.

"Greetings. I am 117649 Despondent Pyre, custodian of Installation 07. My primary function is the preservation and security of this installation, as dictated by the Ecumene Council and the Forerunner creators. This ring is a sacred facility, meant to contain that which must never be unleashed."

She paused, tilting slightly as she analyzed Jin-Woo.

"You are an unknown entity. Biological profile does not match any recorded species within the Domain. Your presence is unauthorized."

Her tone didn't shift—it remained polite, almost warm, but there was a distinct edge of caution.

Then, after a brief moment of scanning, she asked a single question. "Are you a Reclaimer?"

Jin-Woo removed his mask, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Despondent Pyre. "Are you stupid?" he asked flatly. "You already scanned me. You already know whether I'm human or not. Since you said I don't match any recorded species, why even ask?"

Despondent Pyre hovered silently for a moment before responding, "Just kidding."

Jin-Woo narrowed his eyes.

"But," Pyre continued, "I needed to confirm something. You ooze some kind of dangerous aura. It is unlike anything recorded in the Domain, nor does it align with any Forerunner catalogued anomaly."

Suddenly, the air shifted. A distinct hum filled the chamber.

Jin-Woo's eyes flicked to his surroundings as multiple Sentinels emerged from the walls and ceiling, their metallic appendages humming with energy as they trained their weapons on him.

Despondent Pyre's tone remained composed. "I must ensure you are not a threat to this installation. Tell me, are you here for the Endless? Or the Harbinger? Those two must not be—"

Jin-Woo interrupted, his voice calm. "Where is Offensive Bias?"

Despondent Pyre hesitated. Then, smoothly, she responded.

"There is no Offensive Bias. You must be mistaken. If you are referring to a Forerunner military AI, the only relevant entity would be Mendicant Bias."

Jin-Woo's gaze remained unblinking. "Interesting," he muttered.

Pyre continued, her voice unwavering. "Offensive Bias is a fabrication. There is no record of such an AI in any known archive, nor was it ever created under the Ecumene's directive. Mendicant Bias was the only military AI designed to counteract threats beyond the Forerunner's control. I believe you may be confusing historical records with myths or conjecture."

Jin-Woo let out a small chuckle. He tilted his head slightly.

"Does the Grand Edict teach Monitors to lie now?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement. "I'm impressed."

Without another word, ten High Orcs emerged from his shadow, their massive forms materializing in an instant. Their weapons gleamed as they slashed through the Sentinels surrounding him, cutting them down effortlessly. Sparks flew as mechanical bodies crashed to the ground.

Jin-Woo remained unfazed. "I'm pressed for time. Where is Offensive Bias?"

Despondent Pyre hesitated, her processors calculating the best response, but before she could speak, the air around them flickered. A black screen with glowing red patterns appeared in front of her, forming text in an unknown Forerunner code before quickly translating into Galactic Basic.

"Despondent Pyre, lead him to the waterfall. As you can see, he is not your caliber."

Despondent Pyre's core dimmed slightly as she turned toward the screen. "Offensive Bias, sir. If this man kills you , there goes our chances if the Endless are released."

The red patterns shifted, and new text appeared.

"You might not see it, but I can. Before, I saw his power diminished by half when I first detected him in that room. Now, when he stepped onto Installation 07, his power immediately returned to full. If he wanted to kill us, he could simply flood the ring with his immortal army. I am not repeating myself. Lead this man to my location."

Jin-Woo smirked. "He's right. My power is returning. Seems like being stuck in that galaxy was suppressing me."

Despondent Pyre turned back toward him, her tone shifting from cautious to something colder, sharper. "If you kill Offensive Bias, I will hunt you down personally."

Jin-Woo only smiled, stepping forward. "Then lead the way."

Jin-Woo stood at the edge of the waterfall, the mist lightly spraying against his cloak. Then, from behind the cascading water, something massive began to emerge.

A mechanical behemoth, its core pulsating with crimson light. Its elongated frame floated effortlessly, multiple segmented appendages extending outward, each lined with intricate, ancient Forerunner technology. Sharp, angular plating surrounded its central body like armor, interlocking in a design that spoke of both elegance and raw military power. A singular, dominating red eye sat at its core,

Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly. "I thought you'd be smaller—maybe stuck in a terminal like Mendicant Bias. But you're massive… like a giant."

Offensive Bias red eye flared brighter for a moment as the machine's voice reverberated through the air, precise and emotionless. "Scanning: Unknown entity. Biological classification—Not human. Formerly human. Subject exhibits an anomalous energy signature. Comparative analysis suggests a correlation to theoretical energy constructs in non-Forerunner domains. Nearest equivalent in human terminology: 'Ki.'"

The glow of Offensive Bias's core pulsed again as it hovered closer. "State your business. Your intent in seeking me is evident, yet your purpose remains unclear. Elaboration is required."

Jin-Woo's eyes remained fixed on the massive AI before him. "I want you to join my army," he said without hesitation. "You will serve as my strategist and personal AI."

Offensive Bias's red eye flickered, its towering frame hovering with precision. "Request denied. This action would directly clash with my primary directive—to safeguard existence against the Endless."

Jin-Woo smirked. "And what if the Endless disappeared? Like they never existed? Not here, not anywhere."

Then, the AI's core pulsed with renewed intensity. "Recalculating… Balancing options… Grand Edict's directive mandates defense against the Endless as an ongoing necessity. If the problem ceases to exist, my primary function is rendered obsolete… Consideration required."

The glow dimmed for a moment before Offensive Bias spoke again. "If you can prove your claim—if the Endless truly no longer pose a threat—then I will reconsider your request."

Jin woo answered " With Pleasure "

The ground trembled. A low hum filled the air as an entire battalion of Sentinels arrived, hovering in perfect formation. Despondent Pyre followed closely behind, her blue light flickering with a mix of intrigue and apprehension.

But what truly stood out were the massive, coffin-like structures descending from the sky—Endless Cryptums, each one housing a being so dangerous that even the Forerunners had feared them.

Jin-Woo exhaled sharply, tilting his head. "Is this really necessary, Offensive Bias?"

The AI's glowing red eye pulsed as it responded. "Surefire required. If the subject fails, the subject must be terminated."

Jin-Woo let out a small chuckle. " either I succeed or die, huh?" He rolled his shoulders. "Fine. I'll make sure you don't get the chance."

He lifted his hand, fingers flexing. His very presence darkened, an overwhelming pressure seeping into the battlefield.

Then, he spoke. "Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam."

A pulse of black-purple energy radiated from his body, twisting the air around him. The shadows beneath his feet surged like a living entity, warping reality itself. His sword—his Monarch's Blade—became wreathed in unholy black flames.

This wasn't just any ability. This was Vonu Manah—his Blessing destruction technique. And now, it was evolving into something greater. "Alastor."

The flames roared, twisting violently as they coiled around his weapon. Alastor: The Fourfold of Sam.

The very fabric of space shuddered as his blade became an executioner's guillotine, a force capable of completely erasing anything—even that which was infinitely regenerating.

One by one, the Cryptums cracked, their inhabitants vanishing—not dying, not even being destroyed, but erased from existence itself. It was as if they had never been here. Not in this world. Not in this timeline.

Not Pyre's eye flickered wildly. "Impossible… That level of erasure…!"

Offensive Bias remained still, its internal processors calculating at speeds beyond comprehension. "Verification in progress… Detection of Endless presence… negative. Probability of survival… zero."

Jin-Woo's blade lowered, the last of the flames fading into his shadow.

But what none of them knew—what even Offensive Bias had failed to detect—was that half of the Endless were not erased.

Instead, they had been submerged within the abyss of his shadow.

Jin-Woo exhaled, casually resting his sword on his shoulder as he glanced up at the massive AI. "Is that enough for you, red eyeball AI?"

Offensive Bias hovered in silence for a moment, its central eye glowing as it processed the data. "Verification required… You are not a Reclaimer. You are not a Forerunner. And yet, you wield power on your own… Is this what humans refer to as 'ki'?"

Jin-Woo scoffed. "It's called mana." He flicked the last traces of black flames from his blade. "But what I just used? That doesn't belong to humans. It belongs to me. And the only others who ever had it… they all died by my hand."

Offensive Bias went completely still.

The AI hesitated. "Processing… Cross-referencing historical records… Grand Edict's final directive… Confirmed. Probability of full Forerunner extinction… 100%. Current operational directive obsolete. Recalculating…"

Then, the AI's voice returned, steady and absolute.

"Designation revised. New title assigned: Supreme Executor. All remaining Forerunner orders have been deemed irrelevant. Supreme Executor designation confirmed. The termination of the Endless has verified authority."

The AI's vast mechanical form lowered slightly, as if in acknowledgment.

"Awaiting orders, Supreme Executor."

Jin-Woo blinked, then slowly grinned. "Supreme Executor, huh?" He let out a small chuckle. "And I command all of you now?"

"Affirmative," Offensive Bias responded without hesitation.

Jin-Woo turned his gaze to Despondent Pyre. "And you?"

"I am awaiting the Supreme Executor's command," The Monitor answered, its tone unwavering.

Jin-Woo smirked. "Then bring me all the Sentinel weapons that I can wield."

"Affirmative," Despondent Pyre replied.

Within moments, the Sentinels moved, retrieving various handheld Forerunner weapons. They neatly arranged them before him—Sentinel Beams, Heatwaves, Cindershots.

Jin-Woo looked at them, unimpressed. "Only this?"

Offensive Bias responded without hesitation. "Question being asked. Supreme Executor, these weapons are the standard-issue armaments granted by previous Forerunner authorities."

Jin-Woo slowly dragged a hand down his face. "The Forerunners fought the Endless, a threat so severe they built Zeta Halo to contain them, and this is all they had?" He sighed. "No wonder they got wiped out."

Despondent Pyre's mechanical eye flickered. "Clarification: The Array remains functional and primed to fire upon command."

Jin-Woo let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh, very funny. The moment you fire that thing, all living beings go with it." He gestured vaguely. "Yeah, no thanks."

Despondent Pyre remained silent, processing his words.

Jin-Woo exhaled, looking back at the sentinel weapons before him. Sentinel Beams, Heatwaves, Cindershots—useful, but nowhere near what he expected from an ancient civilization that once ruled the galaxy.

Offensive Bias's core pulsed as it spoke. "Suggestion added. There is a prototype armor—an advanced variant of the Ur-Didact's Warplate—with capabilities exceeding those of the Didact himself."

Jin-Woo's eyes narrowed. "Show me."

Without hesitation, Despondent Pyre opened a portal, revealing a massive Forerunner armory. A cold gust of air swept past them as the chamber was unveiled—lined with towering racks of empty weaponry and armor, remnants of a civilization that had once dominated the galaxy and wiped out by their own weapon .

At the center of it all, on an elevated platform, stood the armor.

The suit loomed tall, an imposing exo-frame composed of sleek blackened alloys, its surface pulsing with glowing orange energy veins. The segmented plates shifted subtly as if alive, while floating fragments of armor hovered just above its form, defying gravity itself. The helmet bore a menacing, skull-like design, its angular edges giving off an aura of absolute authority.

Jin-Woo stepped forward, staring at it intently. "What are its capabilities?"

Despondent Pyre's eye flickered. "Armor Designation: Proto-Didact Exo-Frame. A next-generation Forerunner combat exoskeleton, surpassing the Ur-Didact's Warplate in versatility and raw power. Unlike the Didact's original armor, this variant is immune to remote overrides, ensuring that no external force may disable or control it."

Jin-Woo smirked. "So no one's hacking me mid-battle. Good."

Despondent Pyre continued. "Armor Capabilities Include:

...….

Hardlight Reinforcement – Armor plating can self-generate additional layers of hardlight shielding, increasing durability and negating conventional kinetic damage.

Gravitational Manipulation – User can alter their gravitational field, enabling mid-air levitation, enhanced movement speed, and controlled flight.

Forerunner-Grade Strength Enhancement – Grants superhuman strength beyond even the most advanced Spartans or Sangheili warriors.

Phase-Shift Adaptation – Temporarily allows the user to phase through solid matter, evading attacks or passing through obstacles.

Neural Combat Synchronization – Real-time combat optimization, predicting enemy movements and enhancing reaction speed to near-instantaneous levels.

Sentinel Command Integration – Directly interfaces with all Forerunner Sentinel-class constructs, overriding control and issuing commands instantly.

Energy Conversion Protocols – Absorbs incoming energy-based attacks and repurposes them for offensive retaliation.

Self-Regenerating Systems – The armor can repair itself using nanite-based reconstruction, reducing downtime between battles , it can also be used to repair / create new organs should the user wished it .

Absolute Signal Cloaking – Renders the wearer immune to any form of technological tracking, including AI-based scans and heat signatures.

Annihilation Shockwave – Upon physical impact, the armor can release a devastating gravitational shockwave, capable of disintegrating nearby enemies.

Forerunner Encryption Field – Ensures that no foreign AI or entity can take control of the armor's systems."

...

Jin-Woo crossed his arms, considering everything. "In other words," he muttered, stepping closer, "it's a Forerunner-killer's suit."

As he said that jin woo sunk the Proto-Didact Exo-Frame to his own shadow

Offensive Bias responded. "Affirmative."

Jin-Woo smirked before shifting his attention. "Offensive Bias, do you have something like an implant that allows your AI to accompany me? I need you to be with me at all times."

Offensive Bias processed the request. "Implant creation: Initiated. Completion: Imminent."

Within seconds, a small, sleek chip materialized, hovering midair before gently landing in Jin-Woo's open palm. It pulsed with a faint red glow, Forerunner glyphs etched along its surface.

Jin-Woo examined it for a moment before asking, "Where exactly am I supposed to put this?"

"Suggestion added," Offensive Bias responded. "Implantation within the cerebral cortex would provide optimal battlefield support. I would be able to predict threats, enhance combat instincts, and coordinate real-time strategies."

Jin-Woo immediately frowned. "Yeah, no thanks. I don't need you poking around in my brain. All I need from you is hacking support and fleet management."

"Acknowledged." Offensive bias answered

With a satisfied nod, Jin-Woo lifted the chip and pressed it against his left shoulder. The implant seamlessly merged with his skin, integrating into his system as if it had always belonged there.

He rolled his shoulder, testing the sensation. "Did you get a visual?"

Offensive Bias responded almost instantly. "Capability added. Visual synchronization online. Remote data access enabled. Hacking range extended."

Jin-Woo raised an eyebrow. "How far are we talking?"

Offensive Bias's core pulsed. "Calculation complete. Range: Entire solar system and beyond. Multi-system infiltration now possible."

Despondent Pyre observed the interaction before finally speaking. "Shall I return you to your galaxy?"

Jin-Woo paused, then smirked. "Wait. You have coordinates for the galaxy filled with Jedi and Sith, don't you?"

"Affirmative," Offensive Bias confirmed. "However, they are primitive compared to the Forerunners."

Jin-Woo chuckled. " No need, though—I'll travel back myself. But keep a Slipspace portal open just in case I decide to return."

Despondent Pyre's eye flickered. "Acknowledged. Slipspace link to current coordinates established."

Without another word, Jin-Woo activated Shadow Exchange. His form vanished into darkness.

At that exact moment, a Shadow Knight emerged in his place, taking his position like an eerie, silent replacement.

Chapter 8 : Stark Hyperspace war 6 : Rey Skywalker

Meanwhile, Jin-Woo reappeared inside starwars galaxy, his presence slipping back into familiar space.

At the Stark Commercial Combine asteroid base near the Qotile system, inside the personal office of Iaco Stark, the air was tense.

It had been one and a half days since Joever Bideney —Real name is . Jin-Woo—had vanished into thin air. Stark had replayed the hologram feed hundreds of times, staring at the exact moment the man disappeared.

The same motion, over and over—tearing a piece of paper, then gone. No smoke, no flash, no portal. Just erased from existence.

It didn't make sense. Stark rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrated sigh. "What the Bloody galaxy even are you—"

"Stark." A voice beside him

Stark flinched violently.

Jin-Woo was suddenly beside him. Still in his heavy robe and his face half covered only revealing his eyes

Stark almost reached for his blaster—but stopped himself. He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"Don't do that," he muttered, rubbing his chest. "Seriously."

Jin-Woo didn't react, merely tilting his head. "What's the situation now?"

Stark exhaled, leaning back against his chair. "Still waiting. One and a half days left before my plan gets completely hijacked by yours, turning this into the worst plague in the history of space warfare."

Jin-Woo smirked. "If you want war, don't half-ass it."

Stark exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Hey, I need to know at least you're not turning the Trade Federation against us. The Republic is already gonna be on our asses—I don't need both of them teaming up just because you decided to turn this into a three-way war."

Jin-Woo crossed his arms. "Don't use the Navcomputer virus on the Lucrehulks. Their systems are already updated—those greedy Neimoidians don't want to die on their own ships." His smirk widened slightly. "As for luring them in… I have some ideas."

Stark narrowed his eyes. "I trust you on that," he said reluctantly. Then his tone shifted, curiosity winning over caution. "But before we get into that… You probably already know my bedroom had surveillance installed, right? So tell me—" He leaned forward. "How the Fuck did you just tear a piece of paper and vanish?"

Jin-Woo chuckled, his gaze unreadable. "That paper is the key to making you rich," he said. "And the key to making me— Joever Bideney —the most feared man in the galaxy." His smirk turned sharp. "By the time this war is over, my infamy will be unstoppable."

Stark leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "Better be the right key," he muttered.

Jin-Woo turned to leave, tossing a casual parting remark over his shoulder. "If you want to discuss something, see me at the nearest bar."

With that, he walked out, his cloak swaying behind him.

As soon as the door shut, a Paint peeled away from the wall, materializing into one of Stark's spies. The agent's voice was quiet, controlled. "Shall I surveil him?"

Stark didn't even look up. "No." He rubbed his temples. "The reason he wants to meet in a bar is because he's crazy. He wants someone to piss him off so he can start another plague just for fun."

The spy hesitated. "...Then what are your orders?"

"Tell everyone—don't pick a fight with him." Stark's voice was firm. "Stay out of his way."

The spy nodded. "Understood."

The bar fell into a hushed silence as Jin-Woo—under the infamous name Joever Bideney —stepped inside. Every notorious pirate, cutthroat, and mercenary instinctively moved out of his way, some pretending not to notice him, others subtly turning their heads to avoid making eye contact.

They all knew the titles that followed him.

The Plague Giver. The Ghost Slaver.

Jin-Woo casually sat at an empty table, unfazed by the fearful glances thrown his way. The Twi'lek waitress, a young woman with deep green skin, approached hesitantly. Her hands trembled as she held her serving pad.

Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to ask, "What can I get you, sir… Joever?"

Jin-Woo leaned back, resting an elbow on the table. "List me three drinks."

The waitress swallowed hard and quickly rattled off the choices, her voice rushed but professional.

"Black Nova— A strong Corellian whiskey, smooth but hits hard. Not for lightweights."

"Spiced Rancor— A Mandalorian mix. Fiery, infused with rare Outer Rim spices. Burns going down, wakes you up real fast."

"Nebula Mist— A high-end Alderaanian cocktail, sweet with a hidden kick. Goes down easy, but sneaks up on you."

She stood stiffly, waiting for his response, desperately hoping she hadn't said anything to upset him

Jin-Woo tapped his fingers against the table, his expression unreadable. "The Nebula Mist," he finally said.

The Twi'lek waitress nodded quickly, her lekku twitching. "Right away, sir." She turned and hurried toward the bar, clearly relieved to get away from him.

Jin-Woo, now alone, leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice. "Offensive Bias, have you learned the details of this galaxy yet?"

A voice resonated through his mind—cold, precise, yet filled with an almost artificial amusement.

"Affirmative." "This galaxy is riddled with corruption. A failing empire of bureaucrats, a Republic ruled by indecision, Knights blinded by their own dogma, fighting the wrong battles while the true enemy manipulates from the shadows. Lastly…" Offensive Bias paused, almost as if for dramatic effect. "They have never experienced Flood infestation."

Jin-Woo's fingers stopped tapping. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't tell me you have Flood sealed at Zeta Halo."

There was a brief moment of silence.

Then—"Affirmative. Shall I release it on the upcoming war?"

Offensive Bias's response was instantaneous. "Directive acknowledged. Awaiting Supreme Executor's decision."

Jin-Woo tapped his fingers against the table, his mind already processing the possibilities. If I had a Gravemind under my control or as one of my shadow soldiers, I could manipulate the Flood completely. The Rakghoul infestation I've Gained is a lesser version, but still effective… He exhaled. "For now, I won't unleash the Flood. Too much of a mess to clean up."

Then, his gaze sharpened. "Offensive Bias, list three ways to make the Trade Federation the third force in this war. I want Stark's forces, the Republic, and the Trade Federation killing each other—without the Republic and Stark realizing they were being played."

Offensive Bias responded instantly, his voice calm yet methodical. "Processing optimal strategies to ensure Trade Federation involvement in the conflict without direct manipulation of Republic or Stark forces. Three viable options detected."

Tactical Misinformation Disruption – By falsifying classified Republic transmissions and intercepting Trade Federation channels, it is possible to fabricate an urgent distress call from a high-ranking Republic officer. This message will claim that Stark's forces have obtained a prototype hyperfuel shipment—one that, if mass-produced, could make the Republic independent of Trade Federation shipping lanes. The Neimoidians, being both greedy and paranoid, will assume the Republic intends to cut them out of future profits and may attempt to seize the "shipment" themselves, leading to direct conflict.

Sabotaged Agreements – Using high-level infiltration methods, it is possible to forge a secret deal between a rogue Republic senator and Stark. This document will promise exclusive trade routes and weapons contracts for the pirates in exchange for betraying the Trade Federation. Once leaked, the Neimoidians will see no choice but to preemptively strike at Stark's forces, believing them to be the Republic's new privateers. This will force them into the war against both sides while still remaining outside Republic control.

Hostile AI Override – By infiltrating the Trade Federation's droid control systems, it is possible to subtly alter their battle algorithms. Instead of fully allying with the Republic, the battle droids will begin treating all non-Federation forces as equal threats—including Republic ships. This will create a three-way engagement, as the Trade Federation forces will no longer act as simple reinforcements but an unpredictable wildcard, attacking both Republic and Stark forces with minimal provocation.

"Awaiting Supreme Executor's selection," Offensive Bias concluded.

Jin-Woo's expression didn't change as he casually took a sip of his Nebula Mist, barely acknowledging the weight of what Offensive Bias had just said. "I will choose Sabotage Agreements and Hostile AI Override to escalate tensions once the Trade Federation's Lucrehulk-class battleships arrive."

"Affirmative," Offensive Bias responded. "Executing designated plan. Expected escalation of hostilities: 99.87% certainty. Awaiting further directives."

Jin-Woo set his drink down and leaned forward slightly. "However, before we proceed, you forgot to mention something crucial. What is it?"

There was a brief pause before Offensive Bias answered. "The absence of the Forerunner fleet. Despondent Pyre did not disclose that Zeta Halo does not contain any Forerunner warships. The Grand Edict's orders were to relocate all fleets to a classified location beyond this galaxy, in accordance with the Mantle of Responsibility directive."

Jin-Woo chuckled softly, his fingers idly tapping against the glass. "I already knew that."

"Elaborate," Offensive Bias requested.

Jin-Woo smirked. "It's obvious. The Forerunners never truly intended to wipe themselves out completely. The Mantle of Responsibility was their entire purpose, their obsession. If they wanted humanity to inherit their legacy, they would've left their most valuable assets—such as their warships—somewhere accessible." He exhaled, his mind piecing the puzzle together. "Problem is, where exactly did they stash them?"

Offensive Bias processed for a moment before responding. "Analysis of historical Forerunner data suggests several potential locations, but certainty is impossible. If the Grand Edict deployed the fleet beyond my galaxy, since Supreme Executor's galaxy and mine are very different, then the most probable explanation is a dormant, hidden fleet reserve."

Jin-Woo's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Let me guess. If I wanted to find it, I'd need someone like you to sift through layers of security protocols to get the right coordinates."

"Affirmative." Offensive Bias answered.

Jin-Woo smirked. "You don't have to worry about that. I have a way to get it."

He leaned back, thoughts racing. The Mantle's Approach Teleportation Location… Once he secured his 10 million credit bounty under the identity of Joever Bideney, the system would reward him with it. A Forerunner warship larger than the Death Star itself, spanning 371 kilometers. It would house an entire fleet—an arsenal unmatched in his galaxy.

His eyes darkened. If I can claim it, then this war will be the beginning of something greater.

Jin-Woo spoke again. "The war must succeed in getting me a 10 million credit bounty. If my galaxy still doesn't give me that reward, prepare the Halo Array to fire a specific bullet capable of destroying a single planet."

There was a pause. Offensive Bias's core pulsed with uncertainty. "Doubt detected. Recalculating. The only structure capable of such a precise planetary attack is a Guardian Construct. No known material in this galaxy is sufficient for that level of destruction."

Jin-Woo let out a low chuckle. "For you, perhaps," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "But in your galaxy? My power reaches 100 percent. That's more than enough for me to cheat my way out of any limitation."

Offensive Bias processed his words for a moment longer before responding. "Acknowledged. Awaiting Supreme Executor's command."

Jin-Woo's expression darkened slightly as he felt something—an anomaly. A presence with a dense concentration of midi-chlorians, something he hadn't sensed when he first arrived at the asteroid station. It wasn't just a Jedi or Sith presence; it was different, something new. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he whispered,

"Offensive Bias, initiate the first step. Sabotage the agreement in exactly 24 hours. For the next 12 hours, ensure that both Republic and Trade Federation forces arrive, each with their own agendas. As for the hostile AI override, wait until Stark's forces are fully deployed. I have other matters to attend to."

"Affirmative," Offensive Bias responded through the implant.

At that moment, the Twi'lek waitress cautiously approached his table, placing the drink down with careful hands. "Here it is, Black Nebula, sir… Joever."

Jin-Woo barely acknowledged her. He reached into his cloak, pulled out a handful of credits, and placed them on the table—1,000 credits, far more than the drink was worth.

"Keep the change," he said as he stood up and turned to leave.

The waitress's eyes widened as she looked at the credits, then back at the untouched drink. "But… sir, you haven't even taken a sip."

Jin-Woo didn't stop walking. His heavy cloak draped behind him, his presence parting the crowd of pirates . The moment he exited the bar, the patrons whispered among themselves, keeping their voices low as they muttered about "Joever Bideney , the Plague Giver" and "the Ghost Slaver."

He ignored them. But then—something small collided with him.

Jin-Woo barely shifted as a girl bumped into his chest, nearly falling backward. She clutched a piece of bread in her hands, a drink sloshing dangerously in its container. Her face was smeared with dust, her brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her breathing was rapid, panicked.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

The fuck? Jin-Woo thought. What is Rey Skywalker's twelve-year-old self doing here? This is the Republic era—shouldn't she be in the Empire era?

Before he could dwell on the absurdity of it, movement caught his attention.

A group of mercenaries and pirates stormed through the crowd, their boots clanking against the station's metal flooring. They were clearly looking for someone. And when their eyes landed on the girl, their expressions twisted into cruel satisfaction.

"There you are, brat," one of them sneered, cracking his knuckles. "You thought you could hide from me? You know the penalty for running—"

Then they saw him. Joever Bideney. The color drained from their faces.

The pirate leader, a scarred Devaronian, immediately raised his hands, stepping back. "J-Joever Bideney, sir," he stammered. "I apologize—I didn't recognize you. This girl is—"

"I know," Jin-Woo interrupted. His voice was calm, final. "She's a slave."

Without hesitation, Jin-Woo pulled out a stack of credits—100,000 to be exact. He tossed it onto the ground in front of them, the crisp notes scattering across the metal floor.

"I'm buying her. Now. Fuck off."

The pirates hesitated. They looked at the credits. Then at him. Then back at the of them moved. Not a single one dared to test him.

Jin-Woo's gaze flicked to the girl. "You. Follow me."

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then quickly obeyed, keeping her head low as she moved behind him.

The pirates stood frozen for a moment, watching them go. Then, the leader—a scarred Devaronian—suddenly let out a nervous laugh, wiping sweat from his brow.

"We got profits, alright!" he shouted, his voice carrying through the alley. "We bought her for fifty thousand, and Joever Bideney—that crazy bastard—just gave us a hundred thousand! RIGHT?!"

His crew, still pale and visibly shaken, nodded frantically—so fast their heads nearly detached.

"Right! Right! Right!" They echoed, still trembling from the near brush with death.

The Devaronian grinned wide, slapping a hand against the nearest pirate's back. "Now we DRINK! No complaints! We almost fucking died!"

"YES!" The crew roared, shaking off their fear as adrenaline and greed took over. "WE DRINK LIKE MAGGOTS WE ARE!"

The entire group stampeded toward the nearest bar, eager to drown the memory of their encounter with the Plague Giver in as much alcohol as possible.

Jin-Woo sat at an outdoor restaurant table, his cloak draped over the chair, a glass of untouched water sitting beside him. Across from him sat the girl—Rey, though she did not yet bear the name Skywalker.

He eyed her for a moment before speaking. "What's your name?"

The girl hesitated slightly, then answered. "Rey."

Jin-Woo smirked. "Not Skywalker yet?"

Rey frowned. "Sky-who?"

Jin-Woo let out a short chuckle. "Just a joke." He leaned back slightly, studying her. "Tell me something. Did someone drop you on Tatooine?"

Rey's face scrunched up in thought. "I... don't remember much." She played with the edge of her worn-out tunic. "I think I was on some planet first, but then I was sold to a cruel pirate... and then you bought me, sir Joever bideney ."

Jin-Woo's eyes flickered as he considered her words. Twenty thousand midichlorians? No... maybe more. If my first anchor in this galaxy capped me at twenty-five thousand, then with my second, I pushed it to fifty thousand. And this girl... she's practically the same as I was back then.

Before he could dwell further,

Rey tilted her head. "Sir Joever? You spaced out."

Jin-Woo snapped back to the present and waved it off. "No, nothing. No problem."

Rey hesitated, her voice quieter than before. "Sir Joever Bideney... can I ask you something?"

Jin-Woo raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

Rey swallowed. "Please spare me from your plague. I don't want to die."

Jin-Woo didn't respond immediately. Instead, he made a subtle hand signal beneath the table—a silent command.

From the depths of his shadow, Beru, the Black Ant King, moved unseen. With an unnatural grace, he materialized just enough to press a clawed hand lightly against the back of Rey's neck. A soft, nearly imperceptible pulse of dark energy surged into her skin, overcharging her body's natural regeneration to an extreme degree.

The result was immediate. A tiny clink echoed in the air.

The slave chip embedded in her neck was forcibly expelled, its now-redundant circuitry detaching as her flesh healed too rapidly for it to remain inside.

Rey gasped, reaching for the back of her neck. Her fingers traced the smooth, unscarred skin where the chip had once been. "What…? Why did my chip come off?"

Jin-Woo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "You're free." His voice was casual, as if it was nothing more than a minor afterthought. "And I don't like burdens. I need to do some carnage quests in the next one and a half days."

Rey blinked, processing his words. Her mind reeled—not just from the fact that she was suddenly free but from the sheer indifference in his tone, like her fate had been decided in a single breath, with no effort at all.

Jin-Woo moved toward the docking bay, heading straight for his Defender-class Light Corvette—his ship now. It housed a freezing coffin, one very angry kuso baba imprisoned once again, and everything he needed before the war kicked off.

However, as he walked, he noticed Rey following him.

He stopped, turning slightly. "Rey." His voice was sharp. "I'm a bad guy. You didn't hear what everyone said about me? I'm a crazy bastard who can kill anyone without a second thought."

Tears welled up in Rey's eyes, but she didn't stop. "I don't have anyone." Her voice cracked. "And this is the first time I've received kindness. Thank you. Can I join you?" She swallowed, fists clenched. "If you want me to be a bad girl, I'll be a hundred times more than your expectations."

Jin-Woo clicked his tongue. "First off—" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "People who misbehave for other people's sake? Those are the ones I hate the most."

Rey stiffened, but he wasn't finished.

"You need to be selfish for yourself. That means you do this for your own feelings. Not for anyone else. Not for some idea of loyalty. Not for me." He tapped her forehead lightly with his finger. "For your own arrogance. Your own need."

Rey wiped her eyes, nodding rapidly. "I understand."

Jin-Woo turned back around and continued walking. "Good. Now keep up."

As Jin-Woo and Rey stepped inside the ship, Rey's eyes wandered around, taking in every detail. Her gaze soon landed on a lightsaber resting near one of the storage compartments.

She pointed at it. "Sir Joever… are you a Jedi?"

Jin-Woo barely glanced at her. "Nope," he said flatly. "But I'm probably a hundred times worse than a Sith."

Rey frowned. "I heard the Sith are bad guys. Is that true?"

Jin-Woo let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, the Sith are bad guys, alright. A bunch of bollocks and power-hungry idiots who can't think beyond their own greed." He shook his head. "Why can't they just be businessmen? Huh? Leave a peaceful life, make money, build a legacy—like my master."

Rey blinked. "You have a master?"

Jin-Woo smirked. "Yeah. He's a businessman. And he has powers similar to mine. He can control ghosts."

Jin-Woo gestured toward one of the ship's quarters.

"Go get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day."

Rey hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Goodnight, Sir Joever."

"Yeah, goodnight," Jin-Woo replied absently as she disappeared into the room.

He didn't move toward any of the beds himself. Instead, he settled into a chair, his gaze drifting toward the floor beneath him. Hidden beneath the ship's surface, locked away in Dreypa's Oubliette, was Celeste Morne, still sealed in stasis.

Jin-Woo's fingers tapped idly against the armrest. Good. That kuso baba is still there.

With that final thought, his eyes closed, and he let himself drift into sleep.