Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Slum Patrol Blues
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"Wh-why are you doing this?!"
"What's your name?"
"Shin Suk-ju."
"What a name—just like bean sprouts. Mung bean sprouts spoil way faster than other veggies. Makes me seriously doubt if you're not some traitor who's betrayed us and cozied up to the demons."
"Th-that's not—!"
"Show me your pockets! Prove you're not a traitor!"
"Gahhh!"
I rummaged through the man's pockets. But just like before, no drugs.
No progress. Sure, I was grabbing random people and making up excuses to frisk them, but all that came out was self-defense weapons, cigarettes, and booze at best. I needed to check more pockets.
But the streets were dead quiet. True to a slum, everyone seemed to live nocturnal lives—hardly anyone prowled around in broad daylight.
Hmm.
This wasn't efficient at all. I switched up my approach.
"Better to search buildings than grab people off the street. Alright, Reisi—from now on, we raid buildings."
"The way you say it, it sounds like we've evolved from street muggers to bank robbers."
"Nah. Take pride in it, Reisi. There probably aren't any heroes in this district who've pounded the pavement this hard for public safety."
Honestly, I knew my methods were pretty aggressive. If I had to justify it, this brute-force style was unavoidable.
Were there just one or two groups dealing drugs? No way.
Drugs aren't that expensive. Not dirt cheap, but affordable enough for a poor whore. That meant plenty of crime syndicates supplying them.
And would those syndicates deal only in drugs? Doubt it.
Would they settle for pocket change when there were way more lucrative crimes?
No one knew what went down in the district's dark underbelly. But it wasn't hard to guess. There were heavier, graver, more profitable crimes than drugs.
That's why I flashed my armband like a shield, drew my blade like a tyrant, and went full dictator. To root out and excise these parasitic crime groups as fast as possible.
To yank out deeply entrenched roots, you needed rough methods. Not mindless venting, though.
No time for nice talk. Presumption of innocence? Screw that—to ferret out and eliminate the lurking villains, I had to presume guilt across the board first. Meticulous investigations and association warrants for polite searches? When would we ever uproot anything that way? Time to get harsher.
Where would drugs turn up? I pondered prime suspects.
Run-down commercial buildings caught my eye. And the alleys between them. All viable targets.
Alleys: Crawling with activity earlier, but empty now. Pass.
Bars: Top suspects. But closed for lunch hour. Pass.
Brothels: Checked one while grilling that bald guy earlier—nothing special. Pass.
Gun shops: Scared I'd get shot by the owner if I barged in. Pass.
Pass. Pass. Pass. Total busts. Timing was the issue. Needed people around to bust them for drugs or whatever, but with streets empty, couldn't even try.
Guess evenings were the way. Head back, hand off to the night patrol.
As I turned for the dorm, a gambling den caught my eye.
"Looks promising. Last stop before we head back?"
"Sure."
We pushed open the door. Gamblers at the tables—eyes bloodshot, glaring at their cards—turned to stare.
Wrecked lives hooked on gambling. Not many, but probably the ones keeping this joint afloat.
And the more broken the life, the higher the odds they'd be on drugs.
Reisi and I sauntered in, legs wide, swagger on full.
"A-alright, we're... taking over—no, we're here investigating a tip about drug dealers. Cooperate smoothly, everyone."
"Everyone sit. No talking. You there—no drinks. Hands up."
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"Nada."
"Figures."
Long story short: No drugs, not even booze or smokes. These were gambling addicts who dumped every cent into the tables. No room for drugs in their budgets. Makes sense why they were gambling midday.
"Head back?"
"Yeah. Pounding the streets wore me out."
We returned to the dorm.
――Na-rin, unlike Kang-woo's, your power is dangerous. Always be careful.
It was what her father drilled into her relentlessly since she took her first steps.
She and Yoon Kang-woo shared flame-based abilities, but opinions split sharply.
Her brother could incinerate anything at precisely the desired temperature. Hers? Just spew flames and burn stuff—simple.
That's why she hated her father's words. Felt like he was saying Kang-woo's power was superior, hers a downgraded knockoff.
Unlike Kang-woo, who flaunted his powers anytime, anywhere, she couldn't.
Plus, her output varied wildly with mood and emotions—stronger when agitated, harder to control, flames scattering everywhere. How many outfits had she singed using her power?
A half-baked user unable to control her ability as desired. Power a step below Kang-woo's. The sharp judgments from those around her since childhood planted deep inferiority in her heart.
That seed of inferiority and deprivation led to all-day training in empty lots to stabilize control.
Was she diligent or lazy? Closer to lazy. But she had competitive fire. She wanted to beat Kang-woo. Prove herself.
I'm me.
Not some knockoff.
She wanted to shout it.
Young and immature, Yoon Na-rin shook under the judgments. Impatience grew, making control even harder.
Training like mad, yet control worsened. She despaired.
Just quit? Gasping on the ground, Yoon Kang-woo approached.
――Na-rin. Drink this and keep going.
With a much younger sister, Kang-woo doted on her. He probably thought he hid it, but sharp-eyed Na-rin knew.
No generic pep talks like "Don't rush" or "Ignore the noise." Just a soda can. That was it.
No chit-chat; they sat briefly, then he left. Why come at all? But he was busy as a hero—clear he'd carved out time for her.
After that, every training day, he'd show with a drink. Those short daily breaks gave impatient Na-rin some breathing room.
Started wordless, but soon she initiated talks. Five-minute breaks stretched to ten, twenty—no time at all.
Time passed; impatience faded. Training yielded slow, steady gains.
Her childhood inferiority slowly melted away.
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"Man, bored."
Yoon Na-rin muttered, staring blankly out the window. The barrier's edge beyond the rickety frame stirred old memories.
Brother's probably out there.
Close by, but too busy?
Since Yoon Kang-woo went to the eastern fortress for a key role, seeing him was rarer than stars—last long leave was a miracle.
Does he know?
The inferiority he caused vanished thanks to him.
Nah, probably not. Guy's dense as a brick.
Frontline against magic beasts meant strict rules and hierarchy, but hopefully no boomer lectures to juniors. Pray not.
"Sis, water?"
"Yeah, throat's dry. Thanks, Daniel."
Daniel offered the cup. Na-rin thanked him and sipped.
"We're back~"
The door opened; Reisi's voice rang out as she and Anis entered.
"Welcome. Anything special?"
"No big deals, but handover stuff for when Han U-sol's here."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell everyone together later."
"Okay."
Anis glanced at DJ.
"DJ. Water."
"Get it yourself!"
"Huh? Weird. You're supposed to be super smart—why the rebellion? Broken? What's up? Fist fix it?"
"Ack! Aaaah! Fine!! You psycho!!"
Anis's fist thudded into Daniel's arm; he yelped and bolted to the kitchen. Anis stared after him intently.
Anis sometimes fixed Daniel with piercing stares. Seeing little Rena in him? Ages and personalities differed wildly, but both kids saved by hero Anis.
Lately, Anis chattered more, brighter expressions. Spouted weird nonsense, bizarre riffs hard to parse. She always had quirks, but not this extreme.
Like a loud broken clock—Yoon Na-rin worried if Anis hid pain behind forced cheer.
"Here."
"Good."
"Happy now?"
"...Too compliant—boring. Another glass."
...Or not? Just looks happy.
Reisi said patrols were hyper-diligent. Hard to tell.
"You bitch!"
"Hahaha! Jealous? Get stronger than me!"
"Urk!"
Either way, glad she got along with Daniel.