Third Invincible Sister was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the loathsome creature, an oozing lump of flesh with far too many eyes. No, it was more than just mere surprise- it was fear, a gnawing worm in her gut that made her stop for the briefest moment, as the man in the mask cut it into two smaller creatures with his sword (the inferior katana, weapon of the gutless and rapacious Japanese who had done so much harm to her Korea, and a useless weapon when compared to the far superior hwando).

This dank and foul-smelling tunnel had not been the battlefield she had pictured for the Inevitable Showdown. Gang Min-Seo had always seen herself storming into Seoul or Mercury City or Tokyo or even Tel Aviv. Shoulder to shoulder with her four sisters, the full might of the People's Army behind them, and before them the Glorious Leader himself, pistol in one hand and the flag of the great and true Korea in the other. Mowing down their enemies like wheat under the scythe.

But no, the longer she looked at the wretched thing that should not be the more Third Invincible Sister was convinced she would die down here, alone and forgotten. No one would even know what happened to her. Why struggle? It was all hopeless and pointless. No matter what she did, she would fail the Gang family, and of course she would fail the Glorious Leader.

"No!" she cried aloud, an involuntary sound of pure despair.

Fail the Glorious Leader? Fail in her mission and her service? The idea of that was inconceivable to her, worse even than the thought of any death this disgusting thing could visit on her. Not while the self-reliance that had been placed in her by the guiding hand of generations of leaders still remained. The thought galvanized her into action, pushing the pheromone-induced fear aside long enough for her to make a move on one of the creatures.

She leaped forwards in a practiced taekwondo attack, fingers extended like claws. Between her extensive martial arts training and her own unnatural strength, her fingertips could tear and pierce like chisels. And chisel they did, her fingertips finding purchase in the many soft eyes in the thing's rubbery body. She grabbed, twisted, and tore, finally yanking her hands free and holding them up in triumph. Ten eyeballs, dripping gore and fluid, one impaled on each fingertip, like a child eating olives. Hopefully the pain of having several eyes plucked out would immobilize or distract it long enough for one of the others. As she quickly withdrew, the fear finding purchase in her mind once more, she managed to call out to her new comrades in arms. "Now, friends! Strike like the fists of the Pulgasari!"