Part 12:

The enormous bird screeches one last time, dissolving into shimmering particles like a phoenix. The cavern air, thick with the stench of ozone and burnt feathers, slowly begins to clear.

Christopher: *He wipes the grime from his face, a tired sigh escaping his lips. Internally thinking how messy it was but his lips says something else instead.* Good work, everyone. Let's get the loot sorted and head back.

Choi Jong-In scowls, rubbing the gash in his arm. Ma Dong-Wook mutters something under his breath about reckless tactics. The tension hangs heavy in the air, thicker than the dissipating smoke.

Sang-Ho: Hey, we won, didn't we? No casualties. That's what matters. *He claps Christopher on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture.* Good call on that last maneuver, Hunter Sung.

Christopher: *He nods curtly, feeling the weight of Jin-Woo's reputation pressing down on him. He picks up a shimmering feather which still remains in one piece. It stores to his internal storage for later usage.* (Internally) Maneuver? I just winged it. Literally. Where the hell is 'Level up!' when you need it?

Back in Germany, the afternoon sun casts long shadows across the suburban streets. The air hums with the drone of cicadas.

Jin-Woo: *He fumbles with the keys, the baby's cries echoing in his ears.* Just a minute, *He mutters, finally managing to unlock the door. He steps inside, the scent of antiseptic and baby powder filling his nostrils.* I got the formula.

Christine: *She emerges from the bedroom, her face pale and drawn.* Finally *She sighs, taking the formula and heading towards the nursery.* He's been screaming his head off all day.

Jin-Woo watches her go, a strange sense of displacement washing over him. This life, this house, this woman… none of it feels real. He longs for the familiar weight of his daggers, the thrill of the hunt, the camaraderie of his guild.

Jin-Woo: *He leans against the counter, closing his eyes, the image of a dual-wielding warrior flashing across his mind. Christopher. He opens his eyes, a flicker of understanding dawning in their depths.* (Internally) We're trapped. Both of us. Living each other's lives. But why?

A phone rings, shrill and insistent, breaking the silence. Jin-Woo reaches for it, a sense of foreboding settling in his gut.

Jin-Woo: *He glances at the caller ID. It's Monja. His heart skips a beat.* Hello?