Cat Miin gave a sharp bark of laughter, her shoulders shaking slightly.
"That's a good bluff, Mister Jin-Woo," she sneered. "But you're wasting your breath—"
Suddenly, her holocommunicator flared to life.
The device on her wrist vibrated sharply, a glowing symbol flashing.
Jin-Woo's smirk deepened just a fraction.
"That's probably your boss… Presidente Shu Mai," he murmured softly. "And let me guess — she's the one who just fell into what people call… a desperate situation."
Cat Miin, now visibly annoyed, tapped the device, flipping it open. The small holoprojector snapped up — and there, crackling into view, was Shu Mai.
But she wasn't sitting upright behind her polished desk.
No, Shu Mai's thin frame was slumped awkwardly in a chair, her head twitching at an unnatural angle. Her eyes — once sharp and calculating — now gleamed with a sickly, milky shimmer, her skin bloated and discolored. Veins traced unnaturally up her arms, pulsing faintly under the skin. One of her hands jerked, the fingers contorting spasmodically, fingers fused into wet, tendril-like protrusions.
The early signs were unmistakable — an alien parasite burrowing deep, twisting body and mind, hijacking the host even as it spread.
Cat Miin's smirk dropped in an instant.
Her face paled, her mouth parting slightly as she stared at the flickering image, frozen.
Shu Mai's distorted voice crackled through the holoprojector, her mouth twisting unnaturally as she hissed,
"Cat Miin… where is Jin-Woo now?"
Cat Miin, her fingers trembling slightly, hurriedly answered,
"H-Here! Right here! At my location, as promised—"
Before the signal even cut, the holocommunicator shut off with a sharp snap.
And then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, Shu Mai herself appeared.
The doors to the plaza restaurant swung open harshly, two armored mercenaries dragging her forward. Shu Mai stumbled between them, her thin frame writhing and jerking as though something inside her skin was crawling, twisting, expanding.
Her head hung low, jaw twitching, neck tendons pulling unnaturally taut. Veins — darkened, bloated, pulsing — traced up her throat and over her face. When she coughed, a wet, choking sound escaped, and a sickly splash of green fluid hit the polished stone floor, splattering near Palpatine's polished boot.
Palpatine's calm mask faltered for the briefest second.
What… kind of poison or parasite is that? he thought sharply, eyes narrowing.
He kept his face neutral, but inside, his mind raced, calculating.
This isn't alchemy. . This… this is Worst .
Cat Miin stood frozen, trembling, her voice breaking as she gasped,
"P-President Shu Mai! What—what's happening to you?!"
Shu Mai's head lifted weakly, her face a pale, bloated mask, veins pulsing beneath her thin skin. she swayed unsteadily between the two mercenaries holding her upright. Another violent cough ripped through her, spraying more greenish fluid onto the floor.
Her breath rattled in her throat.
"Give me… the antidote…" Shu Mai hissed, her voice raspy and raw.
"And I will spare your friends."
Jin-Woo, still lounging casually in his chair, didn't even glance at her. His gaze drifted lazily off to the side, instead, his voice came out light, smooth, almost teasing.
"No. Instead… I want you to shoot both Rey and Morgan."
Cat Miin's face twisted in shock.
Shu Mai froze, her head jerking slightly in disbelief.
"Are you… are you fucking nuts?!" she spat hoarsely. "Even a Jedi wouldn't survive getting shot in the head!"
Jin-Woo gave no answer, his expression unreadable, his eyes still fixed elsewhere, as if the whole situation bored him.
Inside Shu Mai's muddled, fevered mind, a single, sharp thought sliced through the haze:
Crazy… fucking person. Third-rate merchant… my ass.
With a shaky hand, Shu Mai slammed a button on her wrist device.
The marksmen watching Rey and Morgan pulled their triggers — but in an instant, the holo feed flickered. Rey's screen blacked out, vanishing entirely. Meanwhile, Morgan's holo feed lurched wildly, the camera jerking forward as if yanked by some unseen force.
Then, with a sharp CRACK, the feed went black.
Suddenly, the restaurant doors slid open. Morgan strolled in calmly, a amused smirk playing on her lips — and dangling casually from one hand was the severed head of the marksman.
Morgan's eyes gleamed as she approached the table, her boot heels tapping lightly on the floor. She tilted her head, gaze locking directly onto Shu Mai.
"So--," she murmured , her voice dripping with amusement,
"are these the three idiots who made my tea time feel like absolute shit?"
Jin-Woo gave a lazy grin, barely glancing toward her.
"Ignore Senator Palpatine," he said dryly. "Dude's too old for this shit."
Off to the side, Palpatine sat silently, his expression the perfect mask of smooth calm — but inside, his mind was turning, sharp and calculating.
… Morgan and Rey… they're far more capable than I estimated. Not just bodyguards or attendants… they're a real threat. Not equal to Jedi, maybe… but not far off.
Meanwhile, the civilians nearby began to feel the pressure of Morgan's presence. Even though she wasn't using magecraft, her demonic spear, or her monarch aura, the tension in the air shifted. Whispered voices rippled quietly among the onlookers.
"Isn't that the woman who terrified people who used to bother Padmé Naberrie… before she became Queen Amidala?"
"Shhh, don't let her hear you… she might execute us with that black spear of hers."
One by one, the locals slipped away, quietly disappearing from the streets until the district was nearly empty — leaving behind only Jin-Woo, Morgan, Cat Miin, Palpatine, Shu Mai, and the two armored mercenaries flanking Shu Mai.
Morgan dropped herself into a nearby seat with a smirk, casually propping her legs up on the table like she owned the place, her expression cool and faintly amused.
Jin-Woo, still calm, set a small potion bottle on the table — the liquid inside a murky brown. Without hesitation, Shu Mai snatched it up, her armored mercenaries helping steady her trembling hands as she quickly drank it down.
Jin-Woo's voice came smooth, low, and sharp.
"For one minute, you'll feel a bit better," he murmured. "After that… you'll still need me for the permanent cure."
Shu Mai let out a shaky exhale as a faint relief coursed through her ravaged body, though the infection still visibly pulsed under her skin. Her narrowed gaze snapped toward Jin-Woo, her voice a rasping.
"What… do you want, you wretch?"
Morgan's lips curled into a cold smirk,.
"That aide of yours…" she murmured, eyes locked onto Cat Miin, "let her cut off one of her own hands… for staining my moment."
Cat Miin jolted back, her face twisting in outrage.
"WHAT?! You think my life is some cheap—"
Before the words could fully leave her mouth, Morgan was already moving.
With a cold flash of motion, she summoned her black demonic spear — a streak of dark energy slicing through the air.
In one brutal sweep, the spear cleaved through both armored mercenaries flanking Shu Mai, dropping them instantly, and in the same flick, sliced across Cat Miin's face, ripping through one of her eyes.
Cat Miin shrieked, clutching her face in agony.
"My… my eye! You—!"
Morgan's boots echoed sharply as she stepped closer, the tip of her spear gleaming with a , eerie black glow.
"Say another wrong word," she whispered icily, her voice a soft, lethal threat, "and I'll burn off an entire continent."
Palpatine, ever the master of political grace, raised his hands slightly, his voice smooth, placating.
"Wait, wait…let's not get hasty. I mean, we're just here talking, r—"
Morgan didn't even let him finish.
In a blur, her spear was at his throat. Her gaze flickered with sharp amusement, her voice dripping mockery.
"Do you want to lose your role in the opera, Senator?" "Actors that are useless… need to be terminated."
I, Shu Mai yanked out her blaster — and without a hint of hesitation, fired straight into Cat Miin's arm.
The searing bolt slammed into the Gossam's limb, burning through flesh and fabric. Cat Miin collapsed backward with a shriek, clutching her smoldering arm.
"P-President Shu Mai… why?!" she gasped, eyes wide with betrayal.
Shu Mai, panting and shaking, turned her gaze slowly toward Morgan, her expression twisted between fury and desperate restraint.
"Satisfied… huhhh, you—you—"
Before she could finish, Morgan moved like a whisper of death.
In a flash, she drew a delicate, gleaming fairy dagger from her belt and slammed it straight into Shu Mai's palm, pinning her hand flat against the table.
Shu Mai let out a hoarse, shuddering scream, her body convulsing as the steel sank deep.
"WHYYYYY?!" she wailed, eyes wide with rage and disbelief.
Morgan's lips curved into a cruel, amused smile as she leaned in just slightly, .
"Did I ask you to interfere?" she murmured. "Problems… need to be settled on their own. Isn't that right? That's your slogan, isn't it? Your precious Commerce Guild motto?"
Inside, Shu Mai's mind reeled, spiraling deeper into panic.
Nute Gunray… that bastard never warned me—what are these two?! What kind of wretches did I just step into the room with?!
Suddenly, Cat Miin staggered forward, her one good arm trembling as she clasped it to her chest, her voice breaking into desperate pleading.
"M-Mistress Morgan… my arm, it's disabled — please… forgive me, at least for the Republic itself! I still… I still have some good in me!"
But Jin-Woo, looking utterly bored, barely sighed.
In a blur faster than the naked eye could follow, he flickered from his seat, appearing just beside Cat Miin in a single seamless step.
With a casual jab, his hand struck forward — , just a jab into thin air — and Cat Miin's head, like a puppet snapped on invisible strings, slammed directly into his waiting palm.
With a CRACK, her skull caved like a crushed fruit. Blood sprayed in a fine mist as Jin-Woo lazily lifted his hand, her lifeless, mangled head resting in his grip.
He gave the faintest smirk, tilting it slightly, letting a few crimson droplets run down his wrist before casually licking the blood away.
"Strawberry flavor," he murmured dryly.
Morgan, still perched at the table, gave a slow, amused shake of her head.
"My husband… I was going to finish her in my own way."
Jin-Woo shrugged lightly, "You'd probably burn off half of Naboo first — that's how you do things. I just took the shortcut."
Across the table, Shu Mai recoiled in a half-horrified gasp, trembling.
"T-That was my friend… my aide… you killed her! You killed her and ate—ate her like a cannibal!"
Jin-Woo's gaze drifted lazily toward her, his smirk deepening ever so slightly.
"If it's not human enough…" he said , ,
"…they're just xenos. And xenos? Are for extermination."
Beru, the towering Black Ant King and Marshal of Jin-Woo's shadow army, rumbled through the telepathic link, his voice edged with dark amusement.
Like Warhammer 40k, my liege… the Imperium of Jin-Woo, in the near future.
Bellion, the Grand Marshal, his blade-arm crossed over his chest, followed calmly, his tone deep and resolute.
God Emperor Shadow Monarch Jin-Woo…
Jin-Woo, standing calmly at the center of the carnage, gave internal sigh, his eyes flicking lazily toward the horizon.
Too long for a title, he murmured smoothly through the link.
Also… quiet down for a while.
Jin-Woo slid another small brown vial across the table, the glass clinking as it stopped just in front of Shu Mai.
Without hesitation — her trembling hands already freed from fairy dagger snatching at the only hope she had — Shu Mai grabbed it and downed the liquid, coughing faintly as it slid down her throat.