Part I: The Terms of the Contract
The air between Ume and Kai was thick with unspoken threats and calculated risks. She had secured an ally, but only by offering a secret power she could barely control and inventing an identity she couldn't afford to slip out of.
Kai, the mercenary, was cold, professional, and entirely practical—a terrifying combination that mirrored Ume's own ruthlessness.
"An entry plan, then," Kai said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed short sword. His eyes, the color of wet slate, never left Ume's face, searching for the crack in her 'admin insight' façade. "Let's test this 'predictive asset,' Ume.
The main gate of The Fallow Spire is guarded by sentinels They are Rank Two, armored, and notorious for area-of-effect suppression. What do your insights tell you about them?"
Ume shifted her weight, the mud pressing faintly beneath her worn pumps, and adjusted her internal state. She had no direct knowledge of the sentinels, but she had Kai's motive and the system's pervasive logic. Every threat in Orchid Slug must have a riddle, a weakness tied to its function.
"The creatures are called Sentinels," Ume began, deliberately using a familiar tone to establish authority, "and they are a stationary defense system. Their function is not to patrol, but to deter siege."
She paused, allowing the gravity of her 'insight' to settle. "Therefore, their weakness will be tied to their intended function. The Rank Two Sentinels are primarily mechanical—a common feature near the gates of corporate structures in this game's lore, intended to guard against large groups."
Kai nodded slowly, a hint of curiosity replacing some of the skepticism in his eyes. "Go on."
"The Mist, or whoever set this level, is testing our individual cunning, not our ability to run a siege," Ume continued, her gaze sweeping toward the gothic structure looming ahead. "The Sentinels won't be vulnerable to simple blade strikes. They must be vulnerable to logic. They are meant to repel a crowd, which means they are inefficient against a single, precisely placed attack."
Ume activated The Chest in her mind, focusing on the distant, armored figure guarding the immense iron gates. The familiar translucent lock appeared, and the riddle was immediately presented:
I am fueled by the fear of the many,
I guard a locked entrance and never take any.
My defense is mass, but my core is a lie,
I only fall silent when my power runs dry.
"The riddle is solved," Ume whispered, translating the luminous text for herself instantly. "Their core is a lie—it must not be where the armor is thickest. And they only fall silent when their power runs dry."
Ume looked back at Kai, her face tight with calculated conviction. "Their weakness isn't armor; it's energy. The Sentinels operate on a finite power source, designed to expend massive energy to suppress groups. A solitary attacker must find the cooling vent or the power capacitor, which is likely unprotected to facilitate rapid recharging."
Kai's skepticism vanished, replaced by an intense, cold calculation that Ume instantly recognized as genuine belief. "A cooling vent," he murmured, his mind already formulating a path. "If they waste energy, they drain themselves. A clean kill. Good. You've earned your silence for now, Ume."
"The transaction is satisfactory, then," Ume returned, a complex sentence delivered simply. "You handle the execution, and I handle the intelligence."
Part II: The Hacked Defense and A Corporate Ghost
Kai moved with the terrifying grace of a true professional. He discarded the straight approach, utilizing the scattered cover of the fragmented, overgrown walls near the Spire's base. Ume followed, moving as lightly as her ruined dress and unsuitable footwear allowed, her eyes glued to Hara's life monitor, fearing any sudden movement from the Sentinels may cause her pain and affect Hara.
As they drew closer, Ume realized the defense was more complicated than simple automatons. Three massive, armored Sentinels stood watch, their metallic bodies carved with glowing glyphs that crackled with blue energy.
"The cooling vent is located on the lower neck assembly," Ume directed quietly, reading the final insight the riddle had granted her. "It is exposed when they charge their suppression attack. You must make them waste power."
"A distraction is required," Kai stated, analyzing the terrain. "I'll draw the fire of the center Sentinel, forcing it to charge its attack. You exploit the window."
"No," Ume countered instantly, shaking her head. "I cannot expose myself to attack. The Shared Pain is absolute."
"Shared Pain? What you mea…."
"I mean I'm too weak to distract them. I mean I'm just too weak to even run for my life right now…" Ume interrupted Kai as she realised that she nearly exposed her and she didn't want Kai to know about it.
"Then what use are you?" Kai's voice was sharp with annoyance, the fragile alliance nearly breaking.
"Wait," Ume interrupted, her eyes glued to the glyphs etching the central Sentinel's armor. Something was wrong. The glyphs on the Sentinel's left arm were flickering, not with a mechanical failure, but with an unstable, repeating loop. It was code trying to execute an impossible function.
That's not a malfunction. That's a glitch. That's a hack.
Ume's incredible knowledge, her familiarity with the security exploits Hara had constantly battled at White Lotus Corp, screamed at her. The Sentinel was under external pressure, likely from a player with a Hacker Class or someone who knew something about the game.
"The threat has changed," Ume whispered, leaning close to Kai, lowering her voice until it was barely audible. "The center Sentinel is compromised. Its suppression systems are being overloaded by an external source—a player attempting to bypass the defense via code manipulation."
Kai stared at her, his disbelief warring with the evidence of her "admin insight." "Another player? Here?"
"The player is attempting to force the Sentinel into a continuous 'charge' state," Ume explained, rapidly synthesizing the data. "This will drain its energy without needing a direct attack. The energy flow is being redirected—specifically, the energy from the two adjacent Sentinels is being siphoned to feed the overloaded central unit."
Ume's mind instantly connected the dots to the real world. Hara's R&D attack, the corporate sabotage—it was all about bypassing security to steal the core power. This hacker was following the same protocol.
The hacker is the same person who attacked the company and Hara, a horrifying realization struck her, though she kept it internalized. He is here, testing the very attack he used on Hara.
"The Sentinel on the right," Ume directed, her voice regaining its professional coolness. "It is losing power the fastest. Its own suppression is weakening to feed the central unit. It will have the most exposed power capacitor."
Kai didn't question her. He trusted the cold, perfect logic of her insight. "The right Sentinel. Drained power, easier target. An elegant solution."
"You have approximately thirty seconds before the Hacker completes the drain and the central unit stabilizes," Ume added, giving him a false deadline to encourage speed. "Go."
Kai darted out from cover. He was a shadow made real, moving low and fast. He ignored the struggling center Sentinel and the far-left one, making a direct, curving dash toward the right Sentinel, which was already emitting a faint, high-pitched whine of strained power.
The right Sentinel detected him and began to charge its suppression field—but the charge was weak, sputtering, evidence of its diverted energy. Kai didn't hesitate. He vaulted onto a broken piece of masonry, using the elevation to gain an angle, and drove his short sword not at the center of its mass, but at the rear of its right shoulder, exactly where the power conduit would be exposed during an energy transfer.
The strike was precise. The blade sank into the armor, hitting the weak point Ume had identified. There was no struggle. The Sentinel didn't explode; it simply went dark. The blue glyphs vanished, the metallic body slumped, and its life-bar dissolved into motes of light.
The death of the Sentinel had an immediate, chaotic effect. The failing central unit, which was relying on the right Sentinel's power, spasmed violently, the flickering glyphs on its arm shorting out and disappearing. The unauthorized siphon failed.
Kai retrieved his blade with a smooth, efficient pull, leaving the body behind. He returned to Ume's side, his movements efficient and utterly calm, his eyes alight with newfound respect.
"Clean," he acknowledged, sheathing his weapon. "That was not simple intelligence, Ume. That was system access."
He scanned the dark walls and broken towers. "Someone else was manipulating the code nearby. They failed because you directed me to the weakest point first, disrupting their chain. We should move before the hacker figures out their bypass was sabotaged."
Ume nodded, the terror of knowing that the same person who tried to kill Hara and destroy the company was here temporarily masked by the professional need for silence. She had saved herself, secured her ally, and thwarted her husband's attempted killer in one perfect, deadly strategic move.
"The gate is still locked, Kai," Ume stated, turning toward the immense, imposing doors of The Fallow Spire. "But I have a feeling that the Sentinel's internal access Memory Fragment will open it, and I know exactly which Sentinel holds the key."
The volatile alliance was sealed, and Ume knew, with absolute certainty, that her greatest battles would be fought not with a sword, but with information stolen from the people she now depended on.