I Became the Cute One in the Troubleshooter Squad

The werewolves had delayed me far longer than expected.

This was a serious problem—there was no time to waste. Frustration built in my chest as I hauled the unconscious werewolves out of the dirt by their heads and dashed toward the coordinates marked in the message.

The destination was still a considerable distance away.

But if I pushed myself to the limit, flying at full speed, I could make it there in just a few minutes.

With every second counting, there was no time for caution.

‘Hah… It’s so cold at this speed.’

Whoosh!

The sharp, icy wind cut at my skin like tiny blades, whistling past my ears.

It felt like riding a motorcycle in freezing weather with no protective gear.

My exposed skin quickly turned red, and my ears had already gone numb.

But I gritted my teeth and pressed on. What did it matter if the cold felt like it would freeze me solid?

If I could buy even a moment with this suffering, I’d endure it a thousand, even ten thousand times over.

Fueled by sheer determination, I forced my trembling body to straighten against the bitter chill.

As I leapt from rooftop to rooftop, taking the shortest possible route, something odd caught my eye: a blackened section of an otherwise intact exterior wall.

It stood out like a scar—striking and unnatural.

The structure hadn’t collapsed as it might have from an explosion, and there were no signs of fire damage elsewhere. Yet, that one spot was charred as if scorched by an intense, focused flame.

Pondering the cause as I ran, a thought struck me.

‘Now that I think about it, I did hear that thunderous sound earlier… Wait, if it’s lightning…!’

My heart pounded as a chilling premonition crawled down my spine.

The reason for my unease was simple.

The Liberation Army had a high-ranking officer who specialized in lightning magic.

The chain of command in the Liberation Army placed a supreme commander at the top, followed by the Seven Sins, elite generals who not only led troops but were also monstrously powerful individuals themselves.

These weren’t just commanders—they were living weapons. Their power was on par with someone like Raven, or even the upper echelon of Double Number Fixers.

For reference, Double Number Fixers were ranked from 10th to 99th worldwide, meaning most of the Seven Sins ranked within the top 20 globally.

It was said that a single powerful mage could unleash the firepower of an entire battalion.

No wonder this “mere organization” could wage war against all of humanity.

‘If it’s Akashmir of Thunderclap… Greg won’t stand a chance. Lightning isn’t something you can endure with brute strength.’

Truthfully, Greg was incredibly strong—so much so that my worry seemed almost laughable.

Orcs were known for their toughness, their muscular frames comparable to bears and lions.

And Greg was no ordinary orc; he was a Great Warrior Orc, the cream of the crop.

He was a living, breathing war machine capable of tearing tanks apart barehanded.

But even Greg couldn’t withstand a lightning mage of Akashmir’s caliber.

Unlike fire, which could be evaded or contained, lightning struck with overwhelming precision and speed.

Even if Greg somehow dodged her attacks and closed the distance, she could easily envelop her body in electricity, making hand-to-hand combat near impossible for someone who fought unarmed.

Unless Greg had a weapon durable enough to withstand lightning—something he clearly didn’t, given his disdain for carrying weapons—he would be at an overwhelming disadvantage.

‘If Raven arrives in time, we might stand a chance… but I can’t be sure. For now, I need to assess the situation myself.’

Steeling my nerves, I pushed my speed to its limit.

There was little else I could do but trust Raven and hope he wasn’t too late.

The deafening sounds of chaos grew louder as I neared my destination.

When I finally arrived, the scene stopped me in my tracks. Without even thinking, I leapt forward.

I didn’t have time to rejoice at seeing Greg again.

Kneeling on one knee, battered but alive, he was being targeted by a woman about to unleash a deadly spell.

“Get fried to a crisp! Fulgar!”

“…!”

Crack!

I skidded to a halt, barely managing to place myself between Greg and the incoming attack.

A split second later, a searing red flash burned into my retinas.

As expected, her attack was lightning magic.

Thank goodness I had anticipated this—I might have been too late otherwise.

A small part of me sighed in relief as I extended my telekinesis downward, gripping the ground beneath us.

What I grabbed was the dense, non-conductive earth under the stone floor.

Still, this wouldn’t be enough to withstand the attack.

To strengthen the barrier, I embedded nearby pieces of metal into the wall of earth.

The metal would act as a conductor, redirecting some of the lightning’s energy and dispersing it.

The massive earthen wall collided with the crimson lightning the very next moment.

BOOM!

The impact sent vibrations through my entire body, nausea rising before the deafening sound even registered.

The overwhelming force shredded my telekinetic grip on the wall and pushed me back.

Even with all my improvements, the gap between me and an elite like this was undeniable.

It reminded me of the helplessness I felt when facing Drakel.

But I refused to give up.

No, I couldn’t give up.

Clinging to my telekinesis with what felt like sheer willpower, I held the crimson lightning at bay.

If I let it break through, there’d be no face left to show Greg.

‘You’re not getting past this point!’

Shhhhhh…

The moment, which had felt like an eternity, finally began to move again.

The power trying to pierce through the telekinetic wall of earth dissipated, its purpose fulfilled.

The implication was clear: I had successfully blocked the spell aimed at Greg.

As soon as I understood that, I released the soil I had been holding tightly in place.

The earthen barrier, once as tall as a person, collapsed with a resounding thud, kicking up a thick cloud of dust.

“…Yuria?”

Before the dust could fully settle, a familiar voice broke through.

It was low, devoid of obvious emotion, yet faintly kind.

I turned around, throwing back the hood of my cloak to reveal my face, and locked eyes with Greg.

Hello, liar. You didn’t come back after a month, so I came to find you myself.

That’s what I felt like saying.

“How…? No, this isn’t the time for questions. Thank you. You saved my life.”

“….”

“Hm? Ah, this is nothing—just a scratch. No need to worry—urk, maybe not.”

As the dust settled, Greg’s battered figure came into view.

His clothes were little more than rags, and beneath them were bandages so old they were practically part of his skin.

Fresh wounds oozed blood from his shoulder and abdomen, while one arm bore blackened, charred skin—the unmistakable mark of a lightning strike.

How could someone do this to another person?

My chest burned with a mixture of sorrow and rage, as though my blood was boiling over.

‘Akashmir…!’

Clenching my teeth, I turned to face her.

Standing a short distance away, brushing dust from her eyes, was a woman with fiery red hair.

Her appearance matched everything I knew about Akashmir of Thunderclap.

The gray skin and long, prominent ears marked her as a dark elf.

Given the red lightning spell she had just unleashed, there was no doubt—this was Akashmir herself.

She had to be. The sheer power of her magic, which had charred Greg’s arm, left no room for debate.

“So, something suddenly butted in… and it’s a brat? You don’t seem like a mage since I can’t feel any mana…”

Akashmir studied me with a look of mild interest and hesitation, as if deciding whether or not to attack.

She must have been wary of the fact that I had blocked her lightning without using magic.

Maybe she was weighing the risks of provoking an unknown variable.

Or perhaps she was thinking of capturing me alive.

Whatever the case, I welcomed the reprieve.

Blocking her attack had already consumed nearly 30% of my telekinetic reserves—it was precious time to catch my breath.

‘Do I stand a chance? Honestly… no.’

I was furious.

If Greg had taken that hit directly, he would have died—or worse, been left with injuries beyond repair.

That thought alone stoked the fire in my chest.

But emotions aside, the difference in power was insurmountable.

There were at least two walls separating Greg and Akashmir in strength.

And between Greg and me? At least three.

That meant there were five walls between me and Akashmir—a gap too vast to fathom.

Even blocking that first attack had been a miracle. In reality, she hadn’t even been trying.

She’d simply been finishing off a defeated opponent while I had used every ounce of strength to stop her.

I laughed bitterly at the sheer disparity.

Is this what it feels like to face a tank with just a rifle?

The pressure was so immense that, if not for the boiling rage fueling me, I wouldn’t have been able to stay standing.

And yet, the odd confidence I’d felt earlier still remained—steadfast and unyielding.

Was this courage? Or foolishness? I didn’t know.

As I puzzled over this strange feeling, Greg’s voice snapped back to me.

“Yuria. Run. You don’t need to get involved here. Raven is fighting another enemy nearby—I’ll buy you time to escape. I still have the strength to endure her magic, so—urk!”

“…”

Enough. What nonsense was he spouting?

With a flick of my telekinesis, I clamped his mouth shut.

How could someone so injured talk about buying time? He could barely stand!

Besides, I had come here to save him.

Running away now would achieve nothing.

I had to survive this, together with Greg, and return to NightHaven.

‘That future… wait. What if…’

A sudden idea struck me like lightning.

It wasn’t guaranteed to work, but it might be the only solution to this impossible situation.

There was no time to hesitate.

“Tch. I hate dealing with brats. You know what? Forget it. I’ll fry you both and call it a day. Time to wrap up this mess.”

Akashmir pointed at me, her patience clearly at its limit.

Her tone carried the confidence of someone certain that her full power would annihilate me.

This time, the incoming lightning was far larger—something I couldn’t block, no matter how hard I tried.

BOOM!

A crimson bolt of destruction descended from the heavens, tearing through everything in its path.

For a moment, time itself seemed to stop.

An eerie silence followed, as if the world itself was holding its breath.