The Transmigrated Author

[Gasan Digital Complex, Seoul - Nightshade's Warehouse, Underground: Main Production Room]

"What... what is this?"

Lampard's voice held a note of disbelief.

His aura-powered fist, meant to shatter bone, had struck an invisible wall.

There was nothing between him and Rel, nothing his senses could detect to have halted his attack.

Yet, as his hand plunged towards Rel's face... it stopped.

The force he'd unleashed had vanished, dissipated into nothingness.

He could only assume it might have reappeared elsewhere, but where, he couldn't comprehend.

Lampard stared at Rel, standing only a few feet away, carrying the broken boy he'd transformed.

Rel's face contorted in rage. Though his features remained calm, the fury in his eyes was unmistakable...

Although Lampard was frozen in shock, It was unlike anything he'd ever encountered – not an ability, not a skill he recognized.

The invisible barrier had negated his power completely, leaving him rattled and exposed.

"Who... are you?" Lampard's question was a growl, masking a flicker of fear.

Rel lowered the boy gently, eyes never leaving Lampard. His fists clenched, a faint glow of mana beginning to coalesce around them.

"I am you," he said, his voice cold.

In an instant, Rel lunged, his mana-infused fist reaching Lampard before the man could react.

"Wha-"

BANG!!!

The blow, fueled by mana instead of his usual aura, struck Lampard square in the jaw. The force sent him crashing through the doorway.

Rel followed, his steps heavy. He glanced at the girl huddled in the corner, eyes wide with shock.

"He won't be awake for a while. Look after him, until then."

She nodded slowly and moved to tend to her fallen friend.

...

...

...

cough...cough...cough!!!

A harsh gasp escaped Lampard's lips as he lay sprawled on the cold floor.

"Shit... what was that?!"

His vision blurred, the world tilting precariously. That masked bastard... He'd been faster than anyone Lampard had ever fought, his strike a blur of impossible strength.

ack...

With a groan, he forced himself up. The sight that greeted him was a scene of carnage.

His underlings – men trained to kill – were thrown across the production room, bodies motionless.

"He did this?"

The words were barely a whisper, laced with disbelief.

If this masked intruder could take down his elite guard so easily, it meant the man's power rivalled his own... perhaps even surpassed it.

But what terrified him, what gnawed at his composure, was the chilling realization that he might not even be able to land a single blow on his opponent.

The sickening memory of his attack vanishing into nothingness haunted him.

A desperate hope bloomed: maybe it was a fluke, maybe he just had to overwhelm him with sheer force.

Tap...tap...tap...

It was chilling. Those footsteps, echoing closer, heralded the return of his masked tormentor. Rel stepped through the shattered doorframe, meeting Lampard's gaze with an unsettling stillness.

A wave of fear rippled through Lampard. He'd sensed no trace of mana from this intruder, yet moments ago... It was impossible.

You couldn't simply erase your mana signature, not without the skill of a Grade 4 hero at least.

A chilling possibility dawned. If this man could conceal his power to this extent... was he facing a foe far more dangerous than initially assumed?

Desperate resolve hardened his determination.

"RAHHH!"

Lampard's roar echoed through the room as his white aura flared, a desperate beacon against the encroaching fear.

"I'm going to kill you!"

His hands tore into the ground, ripping free a massive slab of stone.

With a savage heave, he hurled it at Rel. The improvised missile screamed through the air.

Rel didn't flinch. Instead, he walked toward the oncoming stone, his movements slow and deliberate.

BANG!

A deafening crash split the air. Lampard blinked, the dust obscuring his view momentarily.

Then, as it settled, he saw the shattered remnants of the stone scattered at Rel's feet.

Tap...tap...tap...

Once again, Lampard confronted a terrifying reality.

This man hadn't merely dodged the attack.

He'd walked through it, as if the stone were no more threatening than a summer breeze.

And if it wasn't a complex skill or ability...

"He must be from one of the Five Great Families,"

Lampard whispered, his voice trembled and his hands shook uncontrollably.

Only those with bloodlines touched by ancient powers could possess such an unnatural ability – a power that rendered him utterly helpless.

This cold dread remained true in his mind.

If brute force was useless, if his own attacks were nothing... then all that remained was to run.

Lampard spun on his heel, his vision blurring at the edges with panic and desperation.

He sprinted for the hallway, disappearing from sight with shocking speed.

Hope flickered for only a moment, then died as a chilling realization dawned – Rel was gone.

Then a flicker of movement - a chillingly familiar mask, a flash of black-clothed limbs.

Rel reappeared, blocking his path.

Lampard's gaze fell on the fist adorned with swirling black aura, and his blood turned to ice.

He'd picked a fight with a monster.

BANG!

The force of the blow sent him hurtling backward. He crashed to the ground, his spine jolting against the hard floor, sending agony flaring through his nerves.

As his senses returned, the awful truth became clear: he was back in that same damned room.

CLANG!

A sound of glass clanged onto the ground...

A small vial, rolled tantalizingly close—doping drugs – the scent of them a bitter promise in the stale air.

Seeing the vial, Lampard's heart pounded in his ears.

This might be his last chance... His every instinct screamed at him to act.

With a desperate lunge, he reached for the vial, his fingers scrabbling against the rough floor.

Each inch closer was a victory...

BANG!

A gunshot shattered the silence.

The vial exploded, a shower of glass and precious liquid that felt like acid against his burning skin.

All his hope turned to ash on his tongue.

Lampard's eyes drifted toward Rel.

tap...tap...tap...

Across the room, the masked figure emerged from the hallway, each relentless step a drumbeat of impending doom.

"DAMN IT!"

Lampard's scream cracked, a ragged edge to the sound mirroring his fraying sanity.

"Why... why you? Anyone else... anyone else, and I could have broken them!"

tap...tap...tap...

Rel's silence was a hammer blow, each heavy step crushing Lampard's confidence.

He wasn't inclined to listen to his rants, as the villain's words bounced off him like steel pebbles.

"Stay back!" he shrieked, scrambling away. "Or the Syndicate... they'll hunt you down!"

With a snarl, he snatched up shattered rocks, flinging them with shaking hands. A futile gesture.

THUD!, THUD!, THUD!

Stones clattered against Rel, shattering or bouncing uselessly.

In a blink, Rel stood before him, an inescapable force.

"I-I-I'll make sure Morwen goes after your organization..." Lampard's voice cracked.

Rel stood still hearing the word Morwen out of his mouth.

"Are you part of the Syndicate?"

Rel's voice was cold, hard. The word 'Morwen' struck a nerve.

Lampard cowered, "Y-Yeah! If you mess with Nightshade then... Syndicate... Syndicate will come after you! They'll save me if you do anything!"

"I see..." Rel's voice was flat.

He looked at him and watched putting his gun away.

Lampard slumped, a flicker of relief washing over him. "Haah... I knew-"

Rel crouched beside him, his voice a cold whisper in his ear.

"Syndicate won't save you from me."

[Standard Ability: Projectile Projection [Grade 3] Has Been Activated!]

A surge of energy crackled in the air. m vl emp yr exclusive

Lampard's eyes widened as he felt Rel's aura, a disruptive wave of power washing over him.

He looked up, meeting Rel's eyes. No mercy. No hesitation.

Then Rel's fist clenched, black lightning arcing around it.

He swung.

[Critical Hit!]

The force of the blow slammed Lampard into the ground face-first.

"Bastard..."

After Seeing that Lampard was fully unconscious, Rel knew that it was finally over.

The whole nightshade's corps was brought down in a day just as the story originally intended...

Jaxon Cain's Special Ops Squad had gone beyond expectation and destroyed the leader of a criminal organization, abolishing the operations of drug distribution on their own.

***

[News Station: World 9 News]

"Hello, everyone! I'm your news reporter, Jane. It is currently 9:34 PM! We have reports of a major criminal organization takedown by an anonymous group of heroes!

Here at Gasan Digital Complex, over 250 members of Moving Boxes Corps have been identified. This company was a front runnner for drug manufacturing and kidnappings. Lampard Harper, the leader of this operation, has been brought to justice.

[Cut to Dempsey Anette - Official Title: Detective, Police Branch Detective Department (Vice Leader of The Visionary Syndicate)]

"This is a significant victory," Detective Anette states, "but our work is far from over. Investigations continue to locate any remaining victims and dismantle this criminal network entirely."

[Cut back to Jane]

"Authorities estimate that Moving Boxes Corps was responsible for at least a dozen disappearances in the last year alone. We will continue to provide updates as the investigation unfolds. That's all for now. Thank you for watching!"

______________

Authors Notes:

- Rel was holding back the urge to use his sword against Lampard. But chose not to since he only wanted to give him a painful knockout.

- Before becoming a hero Dempsey was just an ordinary detective before awakening his innate ability.

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