Forgive Your Enemy (2)
“Jo Jeonghu... that weakling is your guy?”
Even some random old man he'd met on the subway to the west side knew about it. Jeonghyeon was utterly flustered.
A guy who looked as frail and delicate as some pretty-boy parasite was the youngest son of the unheard-of underground Jo family?
While Jeonghyeon sat there dumbfounded, the old man who'd snuck up on them chuckled and planted himself in front of the two men.
“Haha. You outsiders, huh? I'm letting it slide 'cause you're still green.”
“Ah, yeah. Thanks.”
Jeonghyeon nodded on autopilot, but then his vision blacked out like a fuse had blown.
“Ugh...!”
His body started stiffening up. By the time he tried to struggle, it felt like tons of weight were crushing him down toward the floor.
Thud. Thud!
Philip beside him hit the deck too, judging by the heavy sound.
And as consciousness faded, the old man's friendly voice returned from before.
“Don't go yapping about the Jo family anywhere else, got it? This is a one-time pass. Heh heh heh.”
‘What the fuck... is this old bastard...!’
Footsteps approached: tap, tap.
His vision was pitch black now, and dress shoes clicked into earshot.
“Coming here without even ID. Ballsy.”
“Heh heh. They're young. Just dump 'em in the pits and let's go.”
“Got it.”
***
Blinding light pierces the darkness.
“Urgh...!”
A harsh light like staring into the sun jolted Jeonghyeon's mind awake.
He squinted against the glare blasting from massive spotlights.
“What the...?”
“He's up. Dim the lights.”
“Yes, boss!”
A black silhouette emerged through the brightness and gave the order. The light dimmed soon after.
Once his vision cleared, the surroundings came into focus.
“What is this... a factory?”
The huge abandoned factory was littered with junk and construction gear. An empty drum barrel burned with kindling inside.
Just like a scene from a noir flick.
“Watched a few movies, eh?”
Jeonghyeon hung his head with a dramatic sigh and checked himself out.
His limbs were tied to a chair, but he could snap free with a flex if he wanted.
“What, you gonna kidnap me and do something?”
He shot them a cocky glare, playing pissed off.
The thugs in wrinkled suits all looked the same.
‘All of 'em... wearing gauntlets?’
Every last one was a hunter decked out in gauntlets.
“Unbelievable.”
Hunter crime guilds were a thing, huh? Guess it was real. Sounded kinda fun, actually.
In his past life, Solgaleh's hardcore haters kept him miles away.
Something about guilt by association being a stain.
“Hey, Philip. You okay?”
Assuming they'd nabbed Philip too, Jeonghyeon turned—and froze, eyes widening in shock.
No Philip. Instead, a dead hunter slumped there, drenched in blood, cold as ice.
“You crazy fucks!”
Jeonghyeon jerked in surprise, toppling his chair to the floor with a thud!
“Fancy resume, but you freak over this? Rookie?”
No matter how battle-hardened, nobody shrugs off a corpse popping up. But his captors laughed like it was routine.
“Kekeke. Right, boss? Still a rookie at heart.”
“Puhaha! Look at him curling up like a scared kid.”
Buzzcuts in suits, all identical from afar—who was who?
“Bald-ass bitches got a lot to say. You rank by hair count or what?”
Their faces hardened at Jeonghyeon's jab. Spot on, apparently—the boss had a shiny bald dome screaming gangster.
“Your boss rocks a long ponytail, huh?”
“Pfft!”
One buzzcut snorted, and another elbowed him.
“Hey!”
“S-sorry, boss!”
Jeonghyeon smirked inwardly—shoulda gagged me first—while scanning the room fast.
‘No obvious traps. Barely any mana. They haven't clocked my inventory or Nus... not checking mana either.’
His eyes darted in the dark. Then Baldy crouched down in front of him.
“So, what's your business here?”
“Well, I...”
Cigarette smoke blasted in his face mid-sentence. Jeonghyeon coughed, and Baldy sneered.
“This ain't a tourist spot. You cleared a dungeon or two, got decent gear? Don't just waltz in.”
“Where's this?”
“Wanna know? Eh, you're dead soon anyway.”
“This is Seoul West Armory Zone. Gang Guild turf—no laws, no rules.”
“Pffft!! Gang... Guild... hah!!”
Jeonghyeon burst out laughing for real this time. Not baiting—just absurd.
Grown-ass men playing street gang with fancy names?
The buzzcuts glared, pissed at his reaction.
“This prick... Let's see how cocky you stay.”
“So, where's my buddy? Mr. Gang Enforcer?”
“That big lug? Good gear for his rank, so we shipped him to the underground dungeons.”
“Huh? What dungeon?”
Baldy didn't care about Jeonghyeon's attitude, stomping his foot while lighting another smoke.
“Grindin'. Farm dungeons for loot. Fail, you die. Clear, next one.”
Cocky pose, but helpful explanation.
Jeonghyeon smirked. “Sounds like good training. Keep smokin' like that, you'll croak from cancer first.”
“Worried about me when you're next? Thanks, I guess?”
Baldy kicked him aside and walked off.
“We know what you can break. Do it and follow. Porter trash.”
“Ah. Sure.”
No point ambushing if they knew. Looked like routine kidnappings.
Jeonghyeon snapped the chains with raw strength, dusted off, and stood.
“Asshole. Why stomp me?”
Grumbling for show, but curious about Philip, he followed Baldy. The buzzcuts trailed silently.
Outside the factory, the scene screamed not Seoul.
Crumbled buildings, gray and lifeless. Empty roads. Drum-barrel fires instead of streetlights, bums huddled around campfires.
“You own this dump, huh.”
Baldy snorted but said nothing till they arrived. Buzzcuts just snickered among themselves.
***
Destination: a massive building.
Down several underground floors, crowd noise swelled—more like roaring.
A steel-fenced arena packed with bettors screaming in excitement.
Underground fight pit, obvious.
‘Black market vibes.’
Wonder where all those mana stones went. Flowing here, huh.
“Wait here. Watch him.”
Baldy plopped Jeonghyeon in the stands—above the crowd, good view of the fighters. Desperate scrums with whatever weapons, mostly normies or porters. Hunters like Philip got dungeon duty; trash like him? Human dogfights.
“You want me down there?”
“Yeah. Win, you live. Might even meet that Jo Jeonghu you're dying to see.”
Jeonghu-nim. Gross.
Fine by him. If this was Jo family turf, making noise could draw the guy out.
‘Might as well win quick.’
Stretching casually, a buzzcut muttered loud enough.
“Dude's not even nervous.”
Another sneered openly. “Acting tough. Seen tons like him. Later they'll cling to the fence bawlin' 'Please don't kill me! Mercy!'—shit, piss, tears, the works.”
“Haha. Yeah.”
Jeonghyeon chuckled like it was cute.
Attribute Disruption.
Rank: C
Awakener: Storm Dragon Mirtus
Weapon: Solid Titanium Gauntlet (B-rank)
His scan pierced human limits now, pulling basic info easy.
Strutting for a C-rank? Decent for peers, but...
‘Mirtus awakener... top dog in his league.’
Attribute Disruption.
Rank: A
Awakener: Storm Dragon Mirtus
Weapon: The One Hatched from the Egg (A-rank, Weapon Form Altered: Leather Gloves)
Weapon Traits: Gauntlet of Queen Arachnea's carapace and venom spider silk. Melts hands without poison resistance. Drains mana to deploy venom needle. High impact defense from tough shell.
‘All growl, no bite—name's Huni too?’
Passing funny into adorable. Solid A-rank hunter, epic weapon disguised as plain gloves. Plenty died clueless.
Not pushover level. And another Mirtus guy.
‘Hold up. Another?’
Jeonghyeon scanned nearby buzzcuts to be sure.
Again. Suspicion hardened to fact—he scanned every buzzcut.
⋮
Including Baldy, all ten were Storm Dragon Mirtus awakeners.
‘No wonder they're rare—they're all holed up here...’
Built their own kingdom in the west.
-Storm Dragon Mirtus is territorial. Awakened one, then spread power to his crew.
Uldran chimed in after ages.
‘Oh, thanks. Need help with anything?’
-Later.
‘Always such a flake...’
Uldran vanished wordlessly. Probably lurking creepily somewhere.
Then cheers erupted.
A fighter collapsed bleeding.
“You're next. Get in.”
‘Philip's getting training out of it anyway. Just handle mine smooth.’
Jeonghyeon figured playing along beat starting a brawl to escape—for now.
“Sweet, sweet. Let's do this!”
A situation Solgaleh awakeners never faced. He grinned, kinda enjoying it.