The lobby of the White Stars Guild headquarters was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass, polished marble, and sleek, minimalist furniture. It was designed to exude an aura of calm, professional power. That aura was currently being systematically dismantled by a man who looked like he had been spat out of a prehistoric blizzard.

Gunnar, the European powerhouse and a Vanguard-ranker with a Viking class, was a mountain of muscle and unwashed fur. He stood over seven feet tall, his braided blonde beard damp with sweat and his eyes wild with a singular, stubborn purpose. He had ignored the security protocols. He had ignored the pleas of the guild staff. When the first team of security players had tried to block his path, he hadn’t even drawn a weapon; he had simply walked through them, his sheer physical mass tossing grown men aside like autumn leaves.

"Where are they?" Gunnar bellowed, his voice echoing off the high ceilings like a clap of thunder. He swung a massive arm, shattering a decorative fountain that had cost more than most people’s yearly salary. "Where are the men who stole my glory on the eleventh floor? I didn’t travel across the ocean to be ignored by paper-pushers!"

Outside, the streets of Seoul were already in a state of mild panic. News of the "Viking Rampage" had started at Incheon Airport, where Gunnar had refused to board his return flight, and had only intensified as he carved a path through the city. He wasn’t interested in killing—if he were, the body count would already be in the hundreds—but he was absolutely indifferent to property damage.

On the top floor of the building, in a private executive suite, Kang Min was leaning back in a leather chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. Across from him sat the Guild Master of White Stars, a man who usually prided himself on his composure.

"The logistics for the ’Kangpany’ integration are almost finalized," the Guild Master said, though his hand trembled slightly as he checked a tablet. "We just need your signature on the—"

*BOOM.*

The entire building shuddered. A low, vibrating rumble climbed up through the floorboards, followed by the distant sound of screaming and the sharp *crack* of structural pillars under stress.

"What in the world is that?" the Guild Master gasped, standing up so quickly he nearly knocked over his desk. "Is it a terrorist attack? A dungeon break?"

Kang Min didn’t stand. He set his coffee down and looked at the ceiling. "It’s too rhythmic for a dungeon break. That’s a footstep."

Downstairs, the chaos had reached a breaking point. A young secretary, her arms full of files, had tripped while trying to flee the lobby. She fell hard on the marble floor, her papers scattering like snow. Gunnar, lost in a blind trance of frustration and [Tracking], didn’t even see her. His massive, fur-lined boot, heavy enough to crush a car, was already mid-swing, coming down directly toward the girl’s torso.

"Look out!" someone screamed from the sidelines.

The secretary closed her eyes, bracing for a death that felt inevitable. But the weight never came. Instead, there was a sound like a hydraulic press hitting a stone wall.

*THUD.*

She opened one eye. A young man with dark hair and a calm, almost bored expression was standing over her. He was holding Gunnar’s leg. Not just blocking it—Kim Jin was holding the giant’s shin with one hand, his fingers dug into the thick leather of the Viking’s greaves. The force of the stomp had been completely neutralized, the marble beneath Jin’s feet cracking under the transferred pressure, but his arm didn’t even shake.

"You’re causing a lot of trouble," Jin said in a low, steady voice. "You should stop. If you keep breaking things, I’ll have to force you out."

Gunnar blinked, looking down at the "small" man holding his leg. He let out a huff of surprise, then a booming laugh that smelled of ale and salt.

"Ha! A live one! Finally!" Gunnar roared. He spoke in loud, booming English, his accent thick and guttural. "You are him! My skill... [Tracking]... it brought me to this face! You are the one who took the Demon King’s head while I was busy with the horde! Speak to me, warrior! Why do you hide in a den of glass and gold?"

Jin stared at him blankly. He looked over at a nearby security guard who was shaking in his boots. "What did he say?" Jin asked in Korean.

"I... I think he’s asking why you’re here?" the guard stammered.

Gunnar frowned, his heavy eyebrows knitting together. "English? Do you speak the tongue of the world, boy? Speak! Tell me your name so I can etch it into the floor with your blood!"

Jin turned back to Gunnar, his expression unchanged. "I don’t understand a word you’re saying. But I can tell you’re still looking for a fight."

"He doesn’t speak English, Gunnar," a voice called out from the edge of the lobby. A woman, one of the European players who had traveled with Gunnar, stepped forward, looking exhausted. "He’s a local. He doesn’t know what you’re saying, and you’re making us all look like barbarians." 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"I am a Viking!" Gunnar shouted back at his teammate. "Barbarian is a compliment! If he doesn’t speak my tongue, then his blade must speak for him!"

At that moment, the elevator dinged. Kang Min stepped out, followed by the pale and sweating Guild Master. Kang Min took in the scene—the shattered fountain, the terrified staff, the cracks in the floor, and his brother holding the leg of a man twice his size.

"Gunnar," Kang Min said, his voice cutting through the noise. He spoke in fluent, crisp English. "I remember you from the eleventh floor. You were the one leading the vanguard against the skeletal knights. Why are you trashing my partner’s building?"

Gunnar’s head snapped toward Kang Min. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "The Beast-Tamer. The one who made a pet out of the Tiger that broke my shield. You speak English like us. Good. Now there can be no excuses."

The European teammate hurried over to Kang Min, bowing slightly in apology. "Please, Ranker Kang Min. He’s obsessed. After the eleventh-floor expedition, Gunnar was told that the final bosses were cleared by two Koreans—a swordsman who decapitated the Demon King and a tamer who subdued the Tiger. He feels... insulted. He says he won’t leave the country until he proves he is the superior warrior. He used his [Tracking] skill. It allows him to find anyone he’s seen in a recording or a memory. He’s been following Jin’s trail for three hours."

Kang Min sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He trashed the airport, three city blocks, and a lobby because he has an ego problem?"

"I HAVE A WARRIOR’S SPIRIT!" Gunnar corrected, his voice rattling the glass windows. "I am a Ranker! I cleared the North Sea rifts! I will not be outdone by two boys who haven’t even grown their first beards! I challenge you! Both of you!"

The Guild Master stepped forward, his face red with anger. "This is unacceptable! We will call the Association! We will have your player license revoked! You can’t just—"

"Quiet," Kang Min said, holding up a hand. He looked at Jin, who was still holding Gunnar’s leg. Jin let go and stepped back, wiping his hand on his pants.

"What’s the plan?" Jin asked in Korean.

"He wants to fight us," Kang Min replied. "And if we don’t say yes, he’s going to keep breaking things until the Association sends a strike team, which will turn the city center into a war zone."

Jin looked at the giant Viking, then at the crying secretary who was being helped up by her coworkers. "Fine. Let’s get it over with. But not here."

The Guild Master, sensing a way to save his building, quickly chimed in. "We have a high-spec training arena in the basement. It’s reinforced with Level 5 mana-absorption panels. It can handle S-rank skirmishes. Please... take him there."

The walk to the basement was tense. Gunnar stomped along, his eyes locked on the backs of Jin and Kang Min. The European teammate followed behind, constantly whispering for Gunnar to calm down, which he ignored entirely.

They entered the arena—a massive, vaulted room with a floor made of gray, high-density mana-conductive alloy. The doors hissed shut, and the Guild Master and the other European players watched from the observation deck behind thick, enchanted glass.

"So," Kang Min said, turning to face Gunnar in the center of the room. "How do you want to do this? Do you want to face Jin first? Or do you want to try your luck with me?"

Gunnar laughed, a deep, belly-shaking sound. He reached into the air, and the space around his hands began to distort. A massive, double-sided axe—longer than a man was tall—materialized out of thin air. It was made of a dark, star-metal, and as his fingers gripped the leather-bound haft, the blade began to crackle.

Yellow and black lightning hissed across the metal, the smell of ozone suddenly filling the arena. The mana pressure in the room spiked so sharply that the observers upstairs felt their ears pop.

"Facing you one by one?" Gunnar sneered, his eyes glowing with the same yellow electricity as his axe. "That is a waste of my time. My mana is at its peak. My blood is boiling. To wait for one to fall and another to recover? Boring! I did not come to Korea for a sparring match."

He took a wide stance, the axe humming with a low, dangerous vibration that made the very air feel heavy.

"I have heard the stories," Gunnar said, pointing the tip of the lightning-wreathed axe at the two brothers. "The Swordsman and the Tamer. The Twin Stars of the East. If you are as good as the rumors say, then come at me together. 1v2. Let’s see if your ’skill’ can overcome the raw power of the North!"

Kang Min looked at Jin. Jin looked at Kang Min.

"He’s arrogant," Jin said, though he was already reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"He’s a Viking," Kang Min replied with a faint smile. "Arrogance is their passive skill."

Gunnar’s smile widened, revealing a row of strong, white teeth. The black and yellow lightning flared, arcing from his weapon to the floor, leaving charred marks on the alloy.

"Come!" Gunnar roared. "Show me the power that cleared the eleventh floor!"