The Iron Core guild's medical bay hummed with the particular frequency of advanced healing technology, but the atmosphere remained heavy with the aftermath of violence. Jun sat on the edge of an examination table while Park Sooyoung ran diagnostic scans over the neural feedback burns that marked his arms—the price of pushing his MARK beyond safe operational limits during the assault.
"The neural pathway inflammation is consistent with severe overload," Sooyoung reported, her medical training evident in the systematic way she documented his injuries. "You're lucky the damage isn't permanent. Another few minutes at that intensity level and you could have suffered complete neural disconnection."
Jun flexed his fingers, testing the responsiveness of his MARK interface. The device felt sluggish, its quantum processors still recovering from the strain of maintaining countermeasures against military-grade electronic warfare. "How long until full functionality returns?"
"Forty-eight hours minimum," Sooyoung replied, applying a neural regeneration patch to his forearm. "And that's assuming you don't do anything stupid like trying to interface with complex systems before the inflammation subsides."
The medical bay's entrance dilated with a soft pneumatic hiss, and Seo Hana entered carrying a steaming cup of coffee and wearing the expression of someone who had spent the morning processing tactical implications. Her own armor showed scorch marks from the electromagnetic pulse that had nearly overwhelmed their defenses.
"Status report," she said, settling into a nearby chair with the controlled grace that characterized all her movements. "Tae-hwan wants a full assessment of our defensive capabilities before the Bureau briefing."
Jun gestured at his bandaged arms with rueful humor. "Countermeasures held, but barely. If they had sustained the attack for another five minutes, my MARK would have suffered complete system failure."
Hana's expression shifted to something approaching professional concern. "Which means they were testing our limits rather than trying to achieve total victory. They wanted to see how far they could push us before our defenses collapsed."
The implications sent a chill through the medical bay's climate-controlled atmosphere. If their opponents were conducting systematic testing of defensive capabilities, they were preparing for an operation that required precise knowledge of hunter limitations.
"There's something else," Jun continued, his analytical mind processing the technical data he had gathered during the assault. "The electromagnetic pulse device they used—the technology is at least five years ahead of anything in the public sector. Someone with access to classified research is supplying their equipment."
Sooyoung paused in her medical documentation, her expression carrying the particular gravity of someone who understood the implications. "If they have access to advanced military technology, no hunter team in Seoul has adequate defenses."
The medical bay's communication system chimed with an incoming priority message. Choi Daesung's voice filled the space with characteristic urgency, though Jun detected undertones of excitement that suggested significant developments.
"All team members to the briefing room. I've got intelligence from the black market that changes everything."
As they made their way through the guild's corridors, Jun's mind continued processing the technical implications of their recent encounter. The sophistication of the attack, combined with the advanced technology their opponents possessed, painted a picture of preparation that extended far beyond simple criminal activity.
We're not just fighting rogue hunters or black market criminals, he realized with crystalline clarity. We're fighting someone with resources that rival government agencies.
The briefing room's atmosphere was electric with tension when they arrived. Daesung occupied his usual position near the communications console, multiple data streams flowing across his AR visor as he coordinated intelligence sources throughout Seoul's underground networks.
"What do you have?" Tae-hwan asked without preamble, his expression carrying the weight of command decisions that could affect not just their guild, but potentially the entire hunter community.
Daesung manipulated his interface, projecting a complex network diagram into the room's holographic display. "I've been tracking communication patterns in the black market since the coordinated attacks began. Three hours ago, someone made a mistake."
The diagram showed encrypted communication channels connecting multiple organizations across Seoul, with data flows that suggested coordination on a massive scale. But one connection was highlighted in red—a communication node that had briefly transmitted without proper encryption.
"Iron Fang Syndicate is coordinating with at least four other criminal organizations," Daesung continued, his voice carrying the particular satisfaction of someone who had uncovered significant intelligence. "But they're not the ones in charge. Someone else is directing the operation."
Han Mirae leaned forward, her technical expertise allowing her to interpret the network topology. "The communication patterns suggest hierarchical command structure. Iron Fang is receiving orders, not giving them."
"Which means we've been targeting the wrong organization," Hana observed, her tactical training evident in the way she processed the implications. "Iron Fang is just the visible face of something much larger."
Daesung nodded, manipulating the display to highlight specific communication nodes. "But here's where it gets interesting. The unencrypted transmission contained partial technical specifications for the electromagnetic pulse devices they used against us."
Jun's attention focused with laser intensity. "Show me."
The holographic display shifted to show technical schematics that made Jun's breath catch in his throat. The device specifications were far more sophisticated than anything he had imagined—quantum-enhanced electromagnetic pulse generators that could target specific neural frequencies with surgical precision.
"This technology doesn't exist in any public research database," he said quietly, his engineering mind processing the implications. "Someone developed this specifically for attacking MARK neural interfaces."
"Which brings us to the really concerning part," Daesung continued. "The transmission originated from a location in Gangnam—specifically, from a building registered to a company called 'Advanced Mana Research Solutions.'"
The name sent a chill through the assembled team. Advanced research companies with access to classified technology suggested government connections or rogue elements within the scientific community.
Lee Minjae entered the briefing room with uncharacteristic urgency, his usual theatrical demeanor replaced by genuine concern. "I've been monitoring the academic networks. There are reports of research data theft from three major universities over the past month—all involving mana-tech neural interface projects."
The revelation painted a picture of systematic intelligence gathering that extended far beyond simple criminal activity. Someone was collecting classified research from multiple sources to develop weapons specifically designed to target Seoul's hunter community.
"Government response?" Tae-hwan asked.
"The Bureau is implementing emergency protocols," Minjae replied. "But they're treating this as isolated criminal activity rather than coordinated warfare. They don't understand the true scope of what we're facing."
Jun felt the pieces of a larger puzzle clicking into place with terrifying clarity. "They're not just trying to eliminate individual hunter teams. They're preparing to neutralize Seoul's entire gate defense infrastructure."
"Which raises the immediate question," Hana said grimly, "of what they're planning to do once Seoul's hunters are eliminated."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken implications. If someone could systematically eliminate Korea's ability to defend against gate manifestations, the consequences would extend far beyond simple criminal profit.
Tae-hwan's expression had shifted to something approaching command readiness. "Daesung, I want continuous monitoring of all black market communications. Any indication of their next move, you report immediately."
He turned to Jun and Mirae. "How quickly can you analyze those technical specifications? If we can understand their technology, we might be able to develop more effective countermeasures."
"Give us twelve hours," Mirae replied. "But we'll need access to the guild's most sophisticated analysis equipment."
"You have it," Tae-hwan confirmed. "Whatever resources you need."
As the briefing concluded and the team dispersed to their respective tasks, Jun remained in the briefing room with Hana, both of them studying the technical specifications with growing unease.
"The precision of these devices," Jun said quietly, his engineering mind processing the implications. "They're designed not just to disable MARKs, but to cause specific types of neural damage. Someone wants to ensure that hunters who survive the attacks are permanently incapacitated."
Hana nodded, her expression carrying the particular focus that preceded dangerous operations. "Which means we're not just fighting for our guild's survival. We're fighting for the survival of everyone who depends on Seoul's gate defenses."
The weight of that responsibility settled over them like a physical presence. They had moved beyond simple guild rivalry into something approaching warfare, with stakes that could determine whether Korea maintained its ability to defend against gate manifestations.
And somewhere in Seoul, their opponents were preparing for the next phase of an operation that could reshape the entire hunter community.
The question was no longer whether they could identify the threat in time—it was whether they could stop it before Seoul's defenses collapsed entirely.