Celeste Morne straightened, regaining some of her composure. Her expression hardened as she stepped forward. "Return my lightsaber."
Jin-Woo barely reacted, but at that moment, another notification appeared in his vision.
[ Notification: New Quest Available ]
He didn't even need to read it. He already knew what it would say.
Something predictable. Kill her or convince her to join your side, whatever it takes.
Instead, he simply tossed the lightsaber back to her.
Celeste caught it, hesitation flickering across her face for just a second before she ignited the yellow blade. The golden hue illuminated the confined space of the ship, casting sharp shadows.
"Even if you destroyed my greatest burden," she said, her grip steady, "I still don't trust you. You're—"
"Get out." Jin- woo said
The words came so suddenly that Celeste froze. "...What?"
Jin-Woo didn't repeat himself. He simply gestured lazily toward the exit, his blue eyes unreadable.
Celeste's mind raced. Shouldn't he be trying to convince me? Or kill me?
Every Sith she had encountered would have either tried to convert her or silence her. Even the Jedi, self-righteous as they were, would have tried to "reason" with her.
But this man—**this thing—**was just... telling her to leave?
"Get out," Jin-Woo said again, this time with a slight edge in his voice. "You're dirtying my ship."
Celeste felt a twinge of offense.
She had been trapped for thousands of years, bound to a cursed relic, watching history pass her by—and this was how she was dismissed?
But as she looked into Jin-Woo's unbothered gaze, something inside her hesitated.
There was no fear in his posture, no urgency in his words.
Because he knew, just as well as she did—if she tried anything, she'd lose.
Celeste clicked her tongue, extinguishing her blade. "...You really are a very hated character."
Without another word, she turned toward the exit.
But as she glanced out the ship's viewport, her steps slowed. Everything was different.
The stars, the ships, the planets in the distance—none of it was as she remembered.
It wasn't just the years that had passed—it was millennia.
The galaxy had moved on without her. Her fingers twitched slightly, but she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
44 BBY. That was the year the man before her had mentioned.
The realization hit harder than she expected.
And so, instead of leaving, she turned back.
When she did, she saw Jin-Woo sitting casually, tossing a red kyber crystal between his fingers as if it were nothing more than a trinket.
Celeste folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. "A Sith kyber crystal, and you toss it around like some cheap bauble?"
Jin-Woo didn't even look up. "Don't tell me you can't adapt to modern society, kuso baba."
Celeste blinked. "...What?"
Jin-Woo finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "It means 'damn granny.' A relic like you, frozen in time for a thousand years."
A vein popped on Celeste's forehead. She forced herself to stay calm. Breath in. Breath out. He's just messing with you. Don't kill him.
Instead, she smirked, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "Alright, asshole. If I'm an old relic, at least let this 'granny' hitch a ride. You claim this ship is yours, right? Then at least give a Jedi Master a lift."
Jin-Woo's gaze flicked toward her for a moment before returning to the kyber crystal. "Jedi Master?" he repeated, sounding vaguely amused.
Celeste shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, 'ancient fossil' and all that. But I can still kick your ass."
Jin-Woo finally stopped tossing the crystal, catching it in his palm. He leaned back, studying her.
Celeste smirked. "What? You gonna throw me out into space?"
Jin-Woo's gaze shifted slightly—to Dreypa's Oubliette, the ancient Sith stasis coffin sitting beside him.
Celeste followed his eyes, instantly understanding what he meant. Her smirk vanished.
"No." She stepped forward, her voice firm. "I am not going back into that thing. You're out of your damn mind if you think I'll let that happen."
Jin-Woo remained unmoved. "Your morals and mine are different. You still have your goody-two-shoes Jedi Code. You're hotheaded and reckless. You'll just be a liability until I finish most of my problems."
Celeste crossed her arms. "What problems? I'll have you know I'm from a very ancient era, and I'm a Jedi Master. There's no problem I can't handle."
Jin-Woo's expression didn't change. "You couldn't even handle a cheap zombie talisman that I crushed under my boot. You already failed the first criteria."
Celeste mind went blank for a second as she processed his words.
Then, she thought. And thought very, very, very hard. This bastard destroyed the Muur Talisman as if it was nothing.
A Sith artifact that corrupted entire civilizations. A relic that had survived thousands of years, shaped wars, created monsters—and he stepped on it like it was a cockroach.
Jin-Woo's sheer disregard for it was more terrifying than the talisman itself.
But Celeste wasn't the type to back down.
Her hand twitched toward her lightsaber. "I swear to the Force, if you even think about—"
A set of massive, razor-sharp claws suddenly materialized at her throat.
Cold, chitinous limbs locked her in place, pressing just enough to make her very aware of how easily her neck could be snapped open.
From the shadows, Beru emerged. His mandibles clicked, his red gaze gleaming as he spoke.
"My liege," Beru said, unfazed, "this bag of meat is noisy. Shall I remove her?"
Celeste didn't move. Her breath was controlled, but she could feel her heartbeat hammering. This thing—this monster—had moved so fast she hadn't even sensed it until now.
Jin-Woo didn't look up. "Don't kill her."
Beru's claws tightened slightly.
"But," Jin-Woo continued, his tone casual, "you can spar with her however you want."
Celeste swallowed. She had almost forgotten. This man… wasn't just powerful.
He commanded an army. Not just any army—but a force stronger than Karness Muur himself. That was why Muur lost. That was why he was nothing compared to him.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. "How long are you planning to keep me in stasis?"
Jin-Woo tilted his head slightly. "The real question is—how long are you gonna stay an idiot with that goody two-shoes Jedi Code?"
Celeste sighed. At this point, she was too tired to argue.
"...Fine," she muttered, stepping toward Dreypa's Oubliette. With a final glance at Jin-Woo, she slid inside. "Wake me up as soon as possible. Promise me."
Jin-Woo didn't respond.
He simply pressed the button.
Hissss—
The stasis field reactivated, locking Celeste Morne in suspended animation once more.
Jin-Woo watched as the coffin sealed shut.
Then, he smirked. "You've done well, Beru. Tricking her into a tight spot."
Beru bowed deeply, his mandibles clicking in satisfaction before vanishing back into Jin-Woo's shadow.
Jin-Woo simply smiled. Then, the system notification appeared.
................................
[ Notification: Quest Completed (With Hidden Choices) ]
Quest Title Modified: Due to Player Successfully Choosing the Third Option.
Quest Title: "Choices About to Come: Be a Sigma."
Quest Title: Be a Sigma.
Description:
You didn't kill her.
You didn't convince her.
You ignored her. (Optional Objective Completed: Return Her to Stasis.)
Rewards:
Title: "Sigma" (Buffs aura farming and charismatic speech toward crowds.) (Level:Adept .)
Optional Reward: Skill – "Muur Talisman" (Transforms numerous beings into Rakghouls organically, not as shadows.)
Note: Muur Talisman's ability can be used without the talisman itself, as it has now been categorized as a skill.
.......................................
Jin-Woo chuckled, then turned away from the sealed oubliette, moving toward the hatch and stepping into the hangar.
The moment he did, he was greeted by a crowd of armed men. Blasters, vibroblades, and smug grins—it was clear they had been waiting for him.
At the center of them all, standing with the confidence of a man who owned the place,
was Iaco Stark.
Dressed in a long coat lined with smuggled riches, the infamous pirate lord .
"Welcome, my new friend," Stark said smoothly. "I suppose you did survive that haunted ship, which… honestly, surprises me."
Jin-Woo remained silent.
Draped in a heavy cloak, his face was mostly obscured—save for a single portion, revealing only his piercing blue eyes.
Stark's smirk widened. "No words? Fine, I'll get to the point." His gaze flicked to the ship behind Jin-Woo before settling back on him.
"May I take this ship off your hands?"
Jin-Woo remained silent. But at that moment—
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Notification: Event Quest Activated]
Quest: Stark Hyperspace War
Description: Gain a bounty of 10,000,000 credits from the war that is about to begin.
Reward:
Shard of Kaiburr Crystal
Companion Voucher x1
Mantle's Approach Teleportation Location Voucher x1
Penalty for Failure: Half of Force abilities will be removed.
Choices: Yes / No
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. He pressed yes.
From the outside, however, it looked like he was disrespecting Stark in the worst way possible. Because while he was selecting his quest choice, he had casually raised a finger into the air. Like he was dismissing them.
The reaction was immediate.
A large pirate, built like a tank, stepped forward, his face twisted with rage. "OY! Who the hell are you pointing at?!" he snarled. "This is Iaco Stark, leader of the Stark Commercial Combine! You wanna—"
The pirate froze mid-sentence. A thin black line ran across his torso. A second later—his body split in two. His torso slid from his lower half, a clean, instant cut. Blood sprayed across the cold hangar floor.
Jin-Woo stood there, motionless.
Vectivus' lightsaber was already ignited. A black blade, humming softly. His blue eyes glowed faintly as he tilted his head. "It's a good day to be a pirate."
The entire hangar froze. A few pirates instinctively took a step back. Others reached for their weapons—but hesitated. Because the man before them had moved so fast that none of them even saw the blade ignite.
Iaco Stark's smirk wavered. Jin-Woo… wasn't normal. And now—he had all of their attention.
The hangar lights flickered. The air, once filled with the hum of machinery and the murmurs of mercenaries, turned deathly silent.
Jin-Woo extended his hand. He use his ability [Skill – Muur Talisman]
A dark, unseen force spread like a sickness—a whisper in the air, a pulse in the Force. Then, the first scream pierced the silence.
One of Stark's men clutched his throat, convulsing. His skin darkened, veins bulged and twisted, his body snapping unnaturally as his flesh warped.
Then—he screeched.
A sickening, distorted howl ripped through the hangar, drowning out the terrified shouts of the pirates.
Iaco Stark took a step back, eyes wide. "Wha—what the hell is this?!"
Jin-Woo didn't respond. He simply kept walking. And the plague spread.
Pirates fell to their knees, screaming, their bodies breaking, twisting, mutating. Their weapons clattered to the floor as their fingers elongated into claws, their mouths split open into jagged, gnashing maws.
One man tried to run. His breath came in short gasps, his boots slamming against the metal floor.
He never made it five steps.
A Rakghoul, its body still twitching from its grotesque transformation, lunged.
Its claws ripped into his back.
A wet, gurgling scream echoed through the base as blood splattered against the walls.
Stark's men—his once-loyal army—were becoming something else.
Something not human. Not alive. Not dead.
Iaco Stark bolted.
He shoved a dying pirate out of the way, his breath ragged as he ran toward the emergency bunker deep inside his base.
Behind him, the sounds of snarling, shrieking horrors echoed through the halls.
He didn't dare look back.
The hallways were turning into a graveyard—bodies twitching, mutating, groans and choked cries filling the air as more of his men succumbed.
The lights flickered. Somewhere behind him, he heard footsteps.
Not the Rakghouls. Something calmer. More deliberate.
Stark felt his blood run cold. He knew who it was. He didn't stop running.
His feet pounded against the metal floor, his heartbeat roaring in his ears.
He reached the bunker doors, slamming his hand against the console.
"Come on, come on—!"
The doors hissed open just as something moved in the shadows behind him.
For just a second, Stark caught a glimpse of him—the figure in the cloak, walking through the carnage as if it was nothing.
Jin woo wasn't running. He wasn't rushing. He was just walking.
Like the destruction around him didn't matter. Like none of this was even worth his attention. The doors slammed shut.
Inside the bunker, Stark collapsed against the wall, his breath coming in shaky gasps.
At the base, Jin-Woo continued to walk, his steps slow and deliberate. Entire sections of the base were already overrun, filled with the grotesque, twitching forms of newly spawned Rakghouls. The infection was spreading like wildfire, yet Jin-Woo remained untouched, moving through the carnage with eerie calm.
Then, the heavy footfalls of approaching reinforcements echoed through the corridors.
The Enforcers had arrived.
Unlike the ragged pirates who had fallen moments ago, these were Stark's elite mercenaries—seasoned killers armed to the teeth.
Each one was clad in reinforced blast armor, modified with durasteel plating thick enough to tank direct blaster fire. Their helmets had built-in thermal vision, and their weapons weren't standard-issue—DC-17 blaster carbines, vibroblades, wrist-mounted flamethrowers, and disruptor rifles.
These weren't thugs. These were the best Stark had.
One of them, their squad leader, raised his weapon and called out. "If we kill you, this monstrosity will be over!"
Jin-Woo didn't respond.
Instead, he simply **raised a hand—**and ignited his lightsaber.
The black blade hissed to life, casting a dark glow in the flickering lights of the base.
The squad leader took a step back, eyes narrowing. "We got a Jedi here! A Jedi—"
Another enforcer scoffed, adjusting his grip on his weapon. "Do you think that's a Jedi? As far as I know, Jedi use their magic tricks—not plagues."
Jin-Woo raised a hand.[Force Lightning]
Black lightning erupted from his fingertips.
The crackling energy surged forward, tearing through the enforcers in an instant. Their screams barely had time to leave their throats before their bodies convulsed violently, muscles seizing as the black current ripped them apart from the inside. The smell of burning flesh and ozone filled the air.
Blaster fire rained toward Jin-Woo from all directions.
Without hesitation, he moved through the storm of lasers, his lightsaber whirling effortlessly, each strike deflecting the incoming bolts as if they were nothing. Every motion was precise, every block and parry without wasted movement.
Then, a deep, mechanical hum filled the air.
A heavy cannon fired—directly at him.BOOM.
A shockwave erupted as the explosion consumed him.
The enforcers cheered, their leader raising a fist.
From above, the pilot of a modified starship laughed over the comms. "Hell yeah! We got him! We got—"
His words died in his throat. The ship stopped moving.It hung in the air, trembling—gripped by an unseen force. [Telekinesis]
Inside the cockpit, alarms blared, the control stick locked in place. The pilot's breathing turned ragged. "Wait—what the hell—?! I can't—"
Then, the ship collapsed inward.
Metal twisted, screeched, then imploded, crushing itself like it was gripped by a giant's hand. The wreckage dropped from the sky like a discarded toy, slamming into the base below with a deafening crash.
Jin-Woo stepped out from the smoke of the cannon blast, completely unharmed.
He barely even looked at the burning wreckage behind him.
Instead, he extended a hand once more.
This time, it wasn't lightning. It wasn't telekinesis.
It was something else.
The air shifted.
A ripple of dark energy unfolded around him. Shadows twisted, flickering unnaturally.
[Force Phantom]
Then—they appeared. The Force Phantoms.
Unlike Darth Vectivus' Force Phantoms, which required rituals, planning, and careful control, Jin-Woo summoned them effortlessly.. They were half-formed spirits, twisted echoes of the dead—not truly alive, not truly gone.
The enforcers hesitated.
The figures before them weren't solid. They floated, their skeletal frames wreathed in ghostly darkness. Their eyes—hollow voids—stared directly through them.
One of the enforcers took an involuntary step back. "What… what the hell are those?!"
Jin-Woo glanced at them, expression unreadable.
"Vectivus was right," he muttered, watching the phantoms twitch and flicker. "This is nothing more than a spooky ghost."
He raised a hand, making a single silent gesture.
The order was clear. Kill those who still hold weapons. Eliminate those who resist. But if they surrender, leave them. This section of the base still has its use.
The phantoms moved. The temperature plummeted.
The enforcers barely had time to react before the wraiths lunged.
The first victim let out a strangled scream as a phantom phased through his chest—and then ripped his soul out. His body collapsed like a lifeless husk, his eyes wide in frozen terror.
Blaster fire erupted, desperate, chaotic, but it did nothing.
A pirate swung his vibroblade, his hands shaking. His blade passed straight through the phantom.
The wraith turned its hollowed gaze toward him.
Cold hands gripped his shoulders.
The man convulsed violently, his breath stolen. The light in his eyes dimmed as his very essence was drained. When his body hit the ground, it was already rotting.
Another enforcer tried to run.
A phantom appeared before him without a sound.
He skidded to a stop, his heart hammering.
Then—clawed fingers plunged into his chest.
The enforcer let out a choked gurgle as the phantom tore his heart out, its spectral hand still dripping with essence. His lifeless body collapsed onto the cold floor.
All around, the mercenaries screamed.
Some threw down their weapons, hands raised in surrender. They pressed themselves against the walls, shaking, too afraid to move.
The wraiths ignored them.
They only targeted those who still held their weapons.
The remaining fighters were slaughtered within seconds.
The last one—a heavy enforcer in full durasteel armor—backed away, panting. His shaking hands clutched a disruptor rifle, his knuckles white.
He fired. Nothing happened. The phantom reached forward. The man screamed as his body turned to bloodyshreds .
The wraiths stood motionless, awaiting their master's next command.
The surviving pirates who had dropped their weapons trembled against the walls, sweat dripping down their faces.
Some refused to look up. Others averted their eyes from Jin-Woo entirely, as if making eye contact would seal their fate.