With no news of Sung Jinwoo, Thomas had originally planned to head straight to the airport and fly out of South Korea. As a National-Level Hunter, he couldn't linger in another country for long.
There was another reason, too—if he stayed in South Korea, someone would inevitably insist on feeding him.
His homeland, the United States, wasn't exactly renowned for its cuisine either, but surely it was better than South Korea's, right?
He'd heard about a South Korean "specialty" called budae jjigae. Supposedly, back when people had nothing else to eat, Koreans would throw together whatever ingredients American soldiers left behind and boil them in one pot. In those days, some families didn't even have a pot and used discarded U.S. Army helmets as cookware—this was the original budae jjigae.
Apparently, it was now even served as a state banquet dish for foreign guests.
Thomas wanted no part of it.
Leftovers from his own country? How was he supposed to stomach that?
But the sedan carrying Thomas hadn't even reached the airport when he received a message from his subordinates—
They'd found Sung Jinwoo.
Even his men hadn't expected it. Sung Jinwoo was always elusive; even the Hunters Association couldn't track him. Yet there he was, walking openly down a street—at a time like this, of all times.
Thomas immediately ordered the car to turn around, heading toward the construction site where his people had last spotted him.
Woo Jin-chul, naturally, didn't want Thomas meeting Scáthach and the others. He'd assigned Surveillance Team members to shadow Thomas, but it was pointless—those few couldn't stop a National-Level Hunter. They couldn't even buy time. That was precisely why Thomas had casually agreed to Woo Jin-chul's request.
All Woo Jin-chul could do was call ahead and hope Choi Jong-In's group would get Scáthach and Sung Jinwoo out before Thomas arrived—to avoid direct contact at all costs.
At the same time, he and Go Gunhee jumped into a car and raced over.
Meanwhile, the moment Thomas stepped out of the black sedan, he immediately spotted Scáthach.
Standing apart from the crowd, Scáthach waited alone at the construction site entrance, both hands in her pockets. Everyone else instinctively kept their distance.
As Thomas approached, a flicker of surprise passed through him.
Under his pressure, even S-Rank Hunters struggled to stay composed.
Yet this woman looked utterly unaffected.
Interesting…
The eyes beneath Thomas's sunglasses deepened into a rich gold. He stopped in front of Scáthach. Beside his mountainous bulk, she appeared fragile—so slender it seemed as if he could snap her with one hand.
"Let me introduce myself. Thomas Andre." Because she intrigued him, he offered his name first. "Now tell me—who are you? Someone like you shouldn't have escaped my notice."
"Scáthach." A faint, elusive smile lingered on her lips. Even in the face of Thomas's presence—like a collapsing sky or a flash flood—she didn't so much as blink. "Any other identity is irrelevant. Just remember that name."
Thomas wasn't particularly surprised she understood and spoke fluent English. She didn't look South Korean at all—more like someone from Europe or America.
"You're the woman who was with Sung Jinwoo earlier, aren't you?" Thomas swept his gaze around. "Where is Sung Jinwoo? Don't tell me he got scared, hid, and sent a woman to face me instead."
"I heard he Reawakened from E-Rank to S-Rank recently—South Korea's tenth S-Rank. He's not the type of coward who hides behind women… is he?"
"Save the childish provocations. Little Jinwoo left a while ago. If you wanted him, you're too late."
"Is that so? What a shame. I flew all the way from the United States just for him." Thomas hooked a finger under his sunglasses and raised them slightly, revealing eyes glowing molten gold. "So…"
"…Do you know where Sung Jinwoo is right now?"
The way Thomas stared at Scáthach carried a crushing, terrifying pressure—as if it could grind bones to powder. Even the space around them seemed warped by his intensity.
It was a threat.
A naked, shameless threat.
Thomas had grown up poor in an immigrant family. Life had taught him one lesson thoroughly enough that it became law—
As long as you had overwhelming strength, enough power to crush any opponent, you could take anything in this world.
Wealth. Status. Authority. Reputation.
With unmatched violence, Thomas made everyone who dared look down on him kneel in the end.
He became an uncrowned king. Every fool who defied him was punished, beaten, forced to tremble under his absolute brutality.
That past left Thomas with no concept of humility. Arrogance was as natural to him as breathing.
And now, he intended to intimidate Scáthach into revealing Sung Jinwoo's location.
And then—
"I do know where little Jinwoo is…"
Scáthach tilted her head expressionlessly. When she lifted her gaze again, Thomas saw clearly—indifference and contempt filled her eyes.
He towered over her.
Yet that gaze made him feel like he was the one being looked down upon.
"But why would I tell you?"
The instant those words fell, Thomas's smile vanished.
BOOM!
It was as if an explosion tore through the air itself.
A violent wind ripped across the ground, tossing Thomas's hair and beard upward. Veins bulged grotesquely along his arms and neck. He looked like an enraged lion.
Dense golden force surged around him. His eyes burned sun-hot.
The earth trembled. Even the unfinished buildings nearby seemed to shudder, swaying as if they might collapse.
Yet Thomas hadn't done anything—nothing at all.
He'd merely released his presence.
"Th-this… is a National-Level Hunter…?"
Even from this far away, Cha Hae-In could see the golden aura surging skyward.
"The gap… is really this wide? My body… won't stop shaking…"
Even she, an S-Rank Hunter, was reduced to this sorry state—let alone everyone else. Thankfully, she'd already ordered people to back away once the situation looked bad. If civilians got too close, they'd faint instantly.
That furious pressure—like a tidal wave—curved around Scáthach by itself, crashing harmlessly against her like an immovable mountain. She stood proudly in the gale, meeting Thomas's stare head-on.
Thomas recognized that look.
Everyone who'd ever dared oppose him had worn eyes like that.
And in the end, they had all lost—forced to submit to Thomas's strength.
"You don't know who I am?" he rumbled.
His low voice resonated with tyrannical force.
But Scáthach had already grown impatient.
Thomas's crushing aura didn't frighten her—it stoked her fighting spirit until she could barely restrain herself.
"Are you finished talking?" Scáthach frowned in irritation. "Either come fight me or tuck your tail and run. Or are you all bark and no bite—only good for running your mouth?"
Scáthach herself was always claiming, "I've already graduated from this world—the future belongs to you," and rarely sought trouble.
But the instant her blood ran hot, once a battle hit its stride, she'd steal opponents and trials meant for her disciples.
Contradictory to her core.
The Scáthach of Chaldea once wondered if the incineration of the world could kill her. She considered it—but since it would drag down the entire world, she'd never actually try.
Just like now.
Scáthach knew fighting Thomas would cause trouble for others.
But she still wanted the fight—so she was waiting for him to strike first.
Not my fault. He started it. If anyone's wrong, it's him. I'm just counterattacking…
That was her logic.
Contradictory. Awkward.
And utterly Scáthach—masking her love of battle behind a facade of detached transcendence.
Unsurprisingly, her words enraged Thomas.
A massive hand compressed the air as it shot toward Scáthach's head.
...
"Faster! Faster!"
Woo Jin-chul sat in the passenger seat, practically shouting at the driver to accelerate.
In the distance, he clearly saw the golden aura swelling into a pillar, and the unfinished buildings of the construction site. Just a little longer, and they'd reach it.
"Please, let us make it—we have to stop them before they clash—"
He didn't even finish the thought before the golden aura detonated.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
A savage shockwave tore through the sky. Even from Woo Jin-chul's position, he saw earth and stone blasting into the air. The tall, unfinished building took a horrific blow—fractures raced up its sides, jagged cracks running to the roof.
In front of Scáthach, a gouge nearly three meters wide had been carved across the ground, torn open by the pressure of a single punch, stretching to the distant building.
At the end of that scar, Thomas stood with both arms crossed in front of him, dust whipped up by the gale swirling around his body.
He lowered his arms, his face darkening into a scowl.
Moments ago, when he'd reached for Scáthach, she hadn't dodged. She hadn't even flinched.
She'd smiled—
A fierce, exhilarated smile, as if a chain had finally snapped.
Then that fist had come flying.
He couldn't understand it—how had that slender arm unleashed such monstrous force in a single instant?
Thomas had recognized immediately that the punch was no ordinary strike. He'd crossed his arms to block at the last moment—
Yet he'd still been blasted this far back. Even the overflow of force had torn the ground and shattered the building.
The lingering pain in his arms cleared his mind.
And it thrilled him.
"I didn't expect to run into someone this interesting in a place like South Korea. Good. A fight's only fun when the opponent is at least this strong!"
At this point, Thomas no longer cared about the grudge between Hwang Dongsoo and Sung Jinwoo.
He had only one thought left—
To crush the woman standing in front of him.
CRACK!
The ground under Thomas's feet cracked apart as his violent aura surged. Spiderweb fractures spread rapidly. Gravel and dust floated, trembling in an invisible field—as if the very space around him was submitting.
Wrapped in a sky-piercing golden aura, Thomas's muscles swelled as though filled with molten rock. The bulging contours tore apart his shirt, and glowing, molten-gold patterns surfaced and spread across his skin like an ancient revelation suddenly awakened.
He resembled a warrior torn from myth—holy and untouchable, radiating terrifying majesty.
From within that golden aura, Scáthach sensed the power of the Rulers.
"You're not drawing a weapon?" Scáthach asked softly. Her voice carried clearly to Thomas's ears, making him sneer.
"This is the weapon I'm proudest of." Thomas raised a fist the size of a sandbag, his grin brimming with confidence. "I used these fists to knock the dragon Kamish out of the sky. There's no better weapon for me than this."
At that, Scáthach's crimson eyes blinked.
"Is that so? Then this is awkward…" She clenched her own fist, adopting a simple stance and smiling. "Fine. I'll do the same—no weapons. Saves you from claiming I had the advantage."
"Good! When I tear you apart, we'll see if you can still talk like that!"
In an instant, Thomas shattered the ground beneath his foot and lunged forward—his massive frame charging like a giant, appearing in front of Scáthach in a heartbeat.
He was about to drive his fist down—
When a Purple Gate suddenly opened before him.
Thomas's expression changed. He slammed to a stop just before it.
"What's this…?"
Before he could grasp what had happened, his honed instincts felt her—
Scáthach flickered to his side like a phantom.
"This is the battlefield I prepared especially for you!"
A cruel smile surfaced on Scáthach's face. She ducked under Thomas's pillar-thick arm as it swung overhead, ignoring the violent wind that whipped her hair, and drove her fist hard into his side.
Boom!
The impact felt like a C4 explosion at point-blank range. In an instant, the shockwave flattened the uneven ground around them.
Struck by that heavy blow, Thomas's face twisted. His massive body flew uncontrollably through the Gate, vanishing in the next instant.
Scáthach followed without hesitation, launching herself after him.
The moment she passed through, the Purple Gate closed on its own.
All that remained was a construction site in utter ruin—mangled beyond recognition, as if carpet-bombed.