But Jin-Woo didn't speak. He simply raised a single hand—palm open, fingers spread.
A wordless gesture of silence.
Then, with eerie stillness, he turned his wrist—and conjured something in his palm.
A coin. But not any ordinary coin. It was forged from pure darkness, swirling with faint violet etchings, its surface cold and glossy like obsidian. .
Jin-Woo's eyes locked onto Watto, unblinking. "What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss?" he asked, voice low. Measured. Almost bored.
Watto flinched, trying to muster his usual bravado—but the darkness pressing in made his voice catch slightly. "I always win in bets," he said, trying to smirk.
Jin-Woo flipped the coin high into the air. It spun—faster than any normal metal should. Then fell. He caught it with his right hand and slapped his left palm over it. The impact echoed unnaturally loud in the silent hangar.
"That's good," Jin-Woo said calmly. "Now… heads or tails. Call it."
Watto blinked. "What?"
"Just call it," Jin-Woo repeated. "Heads… or tails."
Watto swallowed, his wings twitching. "Are the stakes the same as before?"
Jin-Woo didn't smile. "No. This time, the stake is what you put your entire life and existence on." His eyes narrowed. "Heads or tails. Call it."
Watto hesitated, beads of sweat forming across his leathery brow. His wings gave a nervous twitch. "If I'm wrong… what happens?" he asked.
Jin-Woo didn't respond. That silence was more terrifying than any threat.
Watto swallowed hard. "H-Heads," he finally muttered.
Jin-Woo slowly lifted his left hand, revealing the coin's surface beneath. Heads.
"You're a lucky man," Jin-Woo said flatly.
With a flick of his wrist, the dark coin dissolved into smoke, and the thick, crushing atmosphere around them dispersed like fog lifted from a battlefield.
Tension fled the room. The lights buzzed and flickered back on.
Jin-Woo's gaze then shifted—sharp and deliberate—to the red-and-blue dice Watto had brought.
His voice came low. "Do you still want to use that dice against me? The stakes are the same as before."
Watto immediately shook his head, backing away with trembling wings.
"N-No… I don't want any more of this. I leave now," he stammered, spinning around in a rush.
As he fled the hangar, he dared a glance back at Jin-Woo—who was still staring after him.
Did I… almost lose my life back there? Watto thought, panic gripping his chest.
Meanwhile, Jin-Woo turned his attention toward the other podrace participants.
Most of them had witnessed the event. A few were frozen in place. Some swallowed visibly as Jin-woo eyes swept across them—cold, calm, unreadable.
"Let's go, Qui-Gon," Jin-Woo said without looking back.
He walked beside the Jedi Master, both of them heading toward the viewing platform beyond the main hangar.
Qui-Gon exhaled softly as they walked. "Was that really necessary, Jin-Woo? You might've frightened everyone."
Jin-Woo didn't slow his pace."Don't tell me you Jedi are becoming dummies now," he said, voice sharp with edge. "Ever heard the saying? If there are wolves—better shoot them with a blaster."
He glanced sideways. "That's what I do. If someone tries to trick me… I strike first. Preemptive. And I make sure they remember the lesson. Trauma's a better teacher than mercy."
As Jin-Woo stepped into the main hangar, eyes naturally turned toward the viewing platform above—where a familiar group had gathered. Watching everything unfold.
Padmé.
Shmi Skywalker.
Morgan le Fay.
And… Jar Jar Binks.
Padmé crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked down at Jin-Woo.
"The racer who came out of the hangar glaring at you—was that something you did again, Jin-Woo?"
Qui-Gon, still beside him, let out a dry breath of sarcasm.
"He's very good at scary opera these days."
Shmi, calm but deeply perceptive, looked between them.
"Jin-Woo," she said gently, "why are you putting so much faith in my son? You act like you know he's going to win."
Jin-Woo raised a brow, eyes gleaming with playfulness.
"Do you want to know the secret?" he asked, tilting his head. "Yes or no?"
Shmi deadpanned. "I'm his mother. Of course I need to know."
Padmé leaned forward eagerly.
"Oohhh—a secret? Can I know? I mean, I am your best friend, Jin-Woo…"
Morgan, standing just behind her, casually patted Padmé's head with mock dignity.
"As a queen, one must learn to respect boundaries… eh, Queen Ami—"
She didn't finish. Padmé immediately slapped a hand over Morgan's mouth, cheeks puffed slightly in embarrassment. "Shhh! Don't cause a scene, Grandma."
Morgan just smiled behind her hand, clearly amused. Although I'm six thousand years old, she thought, I still look like I'm twenty.
As time passed, the engines roared and the dust flew—the Boonta Classic surged toward its climax.
Anakin's pod, , surged ahead in a final burst of impossible acceleration.
He crossed the finish line. The crowd exploded into cheers.
Nobody had ever beaten Sebulba like that. No one had ever survived trying. But the boy did.
On the ground-level viewing platform, Shmi Skywalker rushed forward, wrapping Anakin in a fierce embrace. Her arms trembled as she held him, pride and disbelief pouring from her eyes. Her son… had done the impossible.
Padmé stood nearby, blinking at the scene. Then she turned toward Jin-Woo, suspicious.
"So…" she said, voice low, "you want to tell me what you whispered to Shmi earlier?"
Jin-Woo only shrugged, face calm. "Nope. Better luck next time, Princess."
Padmé gave a little pout and swatted his shoulder playfully.
But then— "CHEATERRRR!!"
The shout came sharp, guttural. All heads turned.
Watto stormed forward, wings buzzing erratically, his face red and fuming.
He pointed a trembling finger at Jin-Woo. "You knew! You knew that boy was going to win! Somehow—you rigged it, didn't you?!"
Jin-Woo didn't even look at him. Instead, his gaze drifted to the side, calm and disinterested—completely ignoring Watto's angry sputtering.
Then, in the silent folds of his mind, a familiar voice echoed.
Supreme Executor, spoke Offensive Bias coolly, the hyperdrive has been secured. Rey and her team retrieved it as instructed. However… Elena and Talon also decided to clean out the rest of Watto's inventory. His junk shop is now officially empty.
Jin-Woo chuckled quietly, still not looking at Watto. His eyes lazily followed a passing skiff in the distance.
Watto, fuming and still trying to salvage his dignity, snapped, "Outlander! This is Tatooine! I have connections—friends—powerful friends and—"
He was interrupted by the frantic beeping of his small pit droid, which zipped up beside him in a flurry of static.
Watto turned, annoyed. "What is it now?!"
The droid chirped a garbled, panicked explanation.
Watto's eyes widened. "HUHHHH?! What do you mean I've been robbed?!"
Without another word, he flapped his wings and zipped away, shouting curses in Huttese as he disappeared in the direction of Mos Espa.
Anakin, who had been watching all this, turned slowly toward Jin-Woo. His expression was unreadable—but there was a flicker of hope, of realization.
He stepped forward, glancing toward the fleeing Watto, then back to Jin-Woo.
"So… that means we're both officially free?" he asked quietly.
Jin-Woo smiled faintly, folding his arms.
"Wait just a moment," he said. "I've got one final surprise."
From the side corridor, Bib Fortuna approached carefully, almost slithering into view with his head low and lekku twitching. He held a datapad and several paper documents with the utmost caution, as if approaching a beast.
"Sir… Masked Man," Bib said, choosing every word with measured fear, "here are the freedom certificates for the other children. And… the digital chip pacifiers removed from their necks. As agreed."
Jin-Woo accepted the documents without a glance. Then he turned and handed all of them to Anakin. "Well?" Jin-Woo said casually. "What are you waiting for? Go give it to your friends."
Anakin stared at the stack of data and paper in his hands. His voice faltered.
"I… I didn't ask for this," he whispered. "Last time I asked for this, I asked for the Armored M—"
He stopped. Mid-sentence. His eyes widened just a little.
Silence hung for a second.
Then, slowly, a strange clarity began to settle over Anakin's features. His head dipped, in realization. His thoughts sharpened.
Armored Man said: "Next time we meet, it'll be face to face."
But now… standing here… with Jin-Woo.
The Gorog fight… Jin-Woo didn't finish it. The Armored Man did.
Because somewhere deep inside, he still struggle to accept the truth : Jin-Woo and the Armored Man… were not separate people. But one.
The realization burned in the back of Anakin's mind —but before he could fully speak on it, Jin-Woo's hand gently landed atop his head.
Jin-Woo' ruffled the boy's hair with a small smirk and said,
" I'll be watching. Don't keep me waiting too long to see how your chapter ends, brat."
Anakin blinked. Then frowned. "I'm not a brat," he muttered. "I'm Anakin."
Jin-Woo chuckled without answering, already turning away.
From the side, Padmé leaned in closer and whispered, "Didn't you say you didn't want your persona leaked? That becoming known as the great hero—the Armored Man—would be too much of a hassle, with people chasing you for autographs?"
Jin-Woo didn't stop walking. His tone was light—teasing.
"Isn't that what you want? A galaxy-wide legend as myself rather than behind a mask? Like some old fairy tale—the hero and the princess."
Padmé huffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest… but said nothing.
He was far too good at teasing.
Morgan was just about to chime in with a smug remark—when it happened.
A blur of motion.
A crimson lightsaber, single-bladed, whipped through the air like a scarlet fang—aimed directly for Jin-Woo's neck.
But it stopped. Dead in the air.The blade hovered just thirty centimeters from him, . It didn't pierce him. Couldn't. His dense mana aura swirled around him like invisible stone
Jin-Woo's eyes flicked sideways, locking on the attacker.His voice came calm.
"Didn't you already lose to my double on Malachor?"
Maul gritted his teeth, thrown back by an unseen force as his feet skidded across the sand. He twisted midair, recovering with practiced finesse, landing smoothly in a low crouch.
Qui-Gon's instincts flared—he ignited his green lightsaber with a sharp snap-hiss and moved protectively in front of Padmé. "Padmé!" he barked. "Get everyone to the ship!"
Padmé's eyes widened. But she didn't hesitate.
She raised one hand high and gave a swift, sharp signal to the others. "Emergency evacuation! Now! Move!"
Morgan grabbed Jar Jar by the back of the collar as they turned, retreating toward the Defender Light Corvette. Shmi clutched Anakin's arm as the crowd started to scatter.
And still… Jin-Woo didn't move. His gaze remained locked on Maul,and quigon who already duelling
The clash rang through the canyon-like hangar entrance—green meeting red in bursts of flashing light and roaring hums.