Soul system:Return Of The SSS-Ranked Troublemaker-Chapter 39: Jeju Island (15) Representative’s.

As soon as they saw the scene, they slammed the door shut. Their expressions twisted in disgust and pure hatred.

"What the fuck was that?!" Jin shouted.

Renzou gagged, covering his mouth and nose. His voice trembled. "It... it looks like a pile of young children..."

His stomach churned at the words.

"HEY! MISTER KONAN! GET OVER HERE!" Renzou yelled.

Within seconds, a group of heroes and a few officers rushed over, led by Konan.

"What is it?" Konan asked, his gaze sharp.

Renzou shakily pointed at the door. "Th-their!" He stammered.

"Tsk."

Konan stepped forward and pushed the door open.

A wave of rot and decay hit them instantly. The stench was unbearable. Inside, a pile of small, lifeless bodies lay motionless, their forms twisted in unnatural ways.

Konan’s face darkened. His usual calm shattered into cold fury. Without a word, he shut the door.

"Tsk. More work." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Call the rest of the crew."

"YES, SIR!" The officers sprang into action.

Jin clenched his fists. "The bastards who did this must be insane... Come to think of it, that bastard Shinoto had a son, right? If he’s still alive, he’d be eighteen this year."

Konan nodded. "I’ll handle body identification. If I find anything useful, I’ll let you know."

Jin gave a sharp nod. "Got it."

"You may continue exploring." Konan ordered.

Jin agreed and continued down the ruined hallway. His steps came to a halt in front of a charred doorway—a room reduced to ashes. Despite the destruction, parts of the walls remained standing.

He stepped inside.

A familiar feeling crept over him. "This room..."

Memories rushed back.

It was a peaceful day when Shiro had invited him to visit the clan. They had stepped into this very room, filled with neatly arranged books.

"Hey, you know what this is?" Shiroi had asked, grinning as he pulled a book from the shelf.

"This book holds our Gyakumei-Ryuu Karate style!"

Jin exhaled, brushing his fingers over the burned remains.

"Right... this room was where the clan stored their martial arts techniques, battle strategies, and ancient secrets..."

Now, everything lay in ashes.

He clenched his fists.

"Although everything is now gone..."

Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "That boy... he was probably at least taught the clan’s signature style."

With that thought lingering in his mind, he left the room and continued his search.

The deeper he explored, the more gruesome the sight became—bodies of men lay scattered, their deaths nothing short of brutal. Blood painted the walls, and the metallic stench clung to the air.

After wandering through the devastated grounds, he found himself in a quieter part of the clan’s estate.

"Shiroi is nowhere to be found... The chances of him being alive are slim." Jin thought grimly.

With nothing else to uncover, he turned and left the ruined clan grounds.

Outside, he approached Konan, handing him a small slip of paper. "This is my number. Call me if you need anything."

Konan took it with a small smile. "I see. Then I’ll use it wisely."

Jin frowned. Something about that smile felt off.

"Don’t smile. It gives me the creeps."

Konan blinked. "Oh."

"Damn, that was blunt." Konan thought, slightly amused.

Returning to Korea

Jin raised his hand, summoning a metallic bird. The sleek construct spread its wings, gleaming under the light before Jin hopped on and took off, soaring toward Korea.

A few hours later, he landed at the Seoul Guild Station. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by his uncle.

"How was it?" His uncle asked, arms crossed.

Jin collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his forehead. "Don’t ask. It was horrible." 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

His uncle let out a short sigh. "I figured. Based on your earlier command, I already passed the message along. Also, other countries will be sending some top students to Jeju."

Jin nodded. "I see. That’s good." His gaze drifted around the room before he asked, "Where is the kid?"

His uncle pointed at the bathroom door. "I made him take a bath."

Jin exhaled, letting his head rest against the couch. "At least something’s going right."

"Any news about Shiroi?" Dae asked, his voice steady yet expectant.

Jin let out a slow breath, his expression grim. "I couldn’t find his body... but the chances of him being alive are slim."

Dae chuckled, shaking his head. "A chance is still a chance, no matter how small."

Jin sighed, then leaned back. "You’re right." Despite the weight of the situation, his uncle’s words brought a small smile to his face.

After a brief pause, Dae’s tone grew more serious. "What about the kid’s father?"

Jin’s gaze darkened. "He died with countless blades in his back."

Dae hummed thoughtfully before speaking. "Y’know, Jin... dying while protecting someone—it’s not such a bad thing. I’m glad he was able to choose how he went out." He smiled, though there was a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Even though we were rivals, I never bore any hatred toward him."

Jin’s fingers curled slightly. "Dying while protecting someone..." The thought lingered in his mind.

But then another question surfaced, unsettling him even more.

"Having a choice...?"

As if reading his thoughts, Dae continued, "It might sound strange to you, but trust me—if a thousand soldiers couldn’t take that man down, then his death wasn’t by force. He chose to protect his son, even knowing what it would cost him."

Jin remained silent, his thoughts swirling in uncertainty.

A month had passed. The nameless boy still remained without a name, his own request—a belief that he did not deserve one. Meanwhile, on Jeju Island, the students had completed their battle suits, yet the war raging in Germany showed no signs of slowing down. The conflict burned like an unquenchable fire.

With the second-generation hero of RPG now deployed, the time had come for the international students to begin their training on Jeju Island.

The world’s leading nations had reached an agreement.

The United States.

South Korea.

China.

Japan.

Russia.

Canada.

Each had selected their top students, sending them to Jeju Island to undergo rigorous training.

Jeju Island

Perched on the branch of a towering tree, Zion stood motionless. His long, white hair flowed with the wind, an ethereal contrast against the deep green canopy. He wore his battle suit—an outfit designed for both agility and resilience, a symbol of the path he was about to walk.

The outfit is a traditional elven ceremonial attire, combining elegance with a sense of nobility and mysticism. The primary garment is a black, high-collared tunic adorned with intricate golden embroidery, giving it a regal yet battle-ready appearance. Over this, a white and gold-trimmed mantle drapes over the shoulders, fastened with ornate golden clasps, possibly symbolizing rank or lineage. A deep red sash runs across the chest, secured with decorative metallic embellishments, adding a touch of contrast to the otherwise monochromatic palette.

The belt, a finely crafted leather piece with gold plating, features an elaborate buckle and layered straps, emphasizing both form and function. The sleeves and cuffs are decorated with golden trim, giving a sophisticated yet practical touch to the attire. A sheathed dagger is strapped to the waist, suggesting that even in ceremonial garb, an elf remains armed.

The entire ensemble exudes a blend of tradition and practicality, a reflection of an elven society that values both elegance and readiness for battle.

Then, multiple airplanes descended onto the base, their engines roaring as they landed. The students exchanged confused glances, murmurs spreading like wildfire.

"What’s going on...?"

"Visitors?"

"Shit, it might be reporters."

"Oh, for sure! Maybe we can finally show off!"

"And maybe even meet some of Korea’s baddies!"

As the airplane doors opened one by one, an intense shift in atmosphere swept across the base. The students felt it immediately—a distinct, foreign aura radiating from each group.

The first to emerge were the representatives from South Korea.

Leading the group was a young man with a wolf-cut hairstyle, his bangs slightly covering his eyes. His hair was a striking mix of purple and white, with sharp edges that gave him an untamed look. His outfit was simple—a jacket over a plain shirt, black pants—but what stood out was his excessive jewelry. Rings adorned his fingers, earrings gleamed in both ears, and a heavy necklace rested against his chest.

Behind him walked a stoic-looking girl, her long black hair tied into a single ponytail. She carried herself with a poised elegance, her form-fitting long dress accentuating her sharp features.

The moment they stepped out, the surrounding students erupted in excitement.

"Holy shit, look at that body!"

"Damn, I’m making her my girlfriend!"

"Dumbass, she wouldn’t even look at you. She likes strong men—like me!"

The energy in the base shifted. The real competition had just begun.

"Hey, look, Somi. Those bastards are already drooling over you." The wolf-cut-haired man smirked, glancing at the murmuring crowd.

Somi barely spared them a glance, her expression unreadable. "Hmph. Typical men."

She turned to him, her voice calm but firm. "Just do your job and protect me."

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he muttered under his breath, "God, Somi, you’re as boring as ever."