The Mayor's Welcome
Of course, there was no chance in hell Dohyun would be wounded by a mere submachine gun.
"Sorry for startling you, Sir."
The one who had attacked Dohyun wasn't some awakened villain at all — just an ordinary civilian, high on NHD, the newest drug of the modern age.
Dohyun hadn't even needed to intervene; the airport guards had wrestled the man down, and since he was out of his mind and babbling incoherently, whoever was behind him couldn't be confirmed.
But even if the culprit's identity was unknown, the intent was crystal clear.
It was a warning aimed at Dohyun.
'Stay in line. Don't get cocky.'
After stirring up such a storm in Hawaii and then Washington, plenty of eyes would be tracking Dohyun's move to California.
"What's your destination, Sir? The LAPD can escort you."
"Much appreciated, but that won't be necessary."
The moment Dohyun stepped through the airport gate, a crowd converged on him — every one of them dressed in immaculate, tailor-made designer suits.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim. I'm with Southern Beach Company. May we have the honor of representing you?"
"Eberhard Union. We would be honored to work with you."
"We're Kace Corporate. Would you consider joining us?"
Each had come from a different corner of the industry — the frontrunners of California's arcane business scene.
For reference, South Korea tended to keep hunter guilds and corporations separate, but America did not. Most hunter guilds were folded into sprawling corporate empires.
Dohyun whistled as he took in the gleaming limousines lined up along the narrow road, all parked there for his sake.
'Worth all that aggro, I suppose. A hail of bullets the moment I land, and now this barrage of love calls. Well, I *am* the most talked-about Free Star in America right now.'
The S-rank recruiting wars among American corporations were famously brutal. Only a vanishing handful of S-ranks ever went to SuperForce or the HPD; the rest signed on with corporations and were showered with obscene compensation.
"Ah, the trouble is I only have one body, and there are far too many limousines. I can hardly hop between them all. Could any of you kindly tell me which one I ought to ride in?"
At Dohyun's opening gambit, the suited men began pitching over one another like bidders at an auction.
"Southern Beach offers a base salary of ten million dollars a year. I can't disclose our exact incentive ratios for gate raids, but I guarantee they're the best in the industry. You'd hold VP rank, with stock options written into the contract."
"Eberhard's base salary starts at—"
The offers were all cut from the same cloth. Base pay of ten to twenty million dollars a year. Hunter contracts lived and died on incentives, so a base salary of that size was their way of signaling just how seriously they meant to treat him. Incentive ratios, naturally, at the industry ceiling. Rank no lower than managing director, usually VP. Stock options and a mountain of perks besides.
'For a Lv. 7 S-rank, that really is the top of the line.'
Anything beyond that — a treatment reserved for a company's *owner* — required Nova-class, Lv. 8.
"Please don't feel pressured to answer right away. We simply want you to know how warmly our company regards you, Mr. Kim."
"The same goes for us. The terms I mentioned are only the floor — they can be raised as high as you like, so if there's anything you want—"
The corporate scouts were practically tripping over themselves to curry his favor. Any greenhorn S-rank fresh off the plane would have had his head turned by now.
But Dohyun had lived through this exact song and dance more times than he could count.
"I'll pass on all that. What I *do* have is a proposal of my own. Is anyone here capable of meeting it?"
"Name it. Anything."
"I don't want to be *employed* by a company. I want a partnership."
"You'd like to work as a freelance partner? The terms might dip slightly, but if that's what you want, it can certainly be arranged—"
"Not that either. I intend to found a company of my own. I'm offering you the chance to partner with it."
The scouts faltered.
"...Founding a company — you mean a guild? If that's the case, we could look into a guild-employment structure—"
"Not a guild. I'm planning a business in the arcane sector. I happen to have some very lucrative items in my portfolio."
'When in America, start a business, right?'
Dohyun possessed vast knowledge of arcane science — a catalog of ventures, each one capable of printing money beyond imagination.
In his previous runs, though, that knowledge had never translated into proper profit.
'Korea's arcane business market is simply too small.'
Worst of all, world-changing knowledge like H-NHD couldn't even be properly disclosed. The superpowers — America, China — would never have stood idle, so in the end he'd been forced to ration his knowledge, releasing it in measured drops while watching the world turn.
'No such worries here. In America, I can unleash world-changing knowledge to my heart's content.'
"That's, well..."
The scouts exchanged uneasy glances. The corporations wanted Dohyun for his power as an S-rank awakener — not for a partnership in arcane business. A partnership like that was guaranteed to put the company on the losing end of the deal.
"There's no need to decide today. Just understand this: my partnership offer is an *opportunity* I'm extending to your companies. And when time passes... opportunities have a way of disappearing."
Every arcane business in America would soon be begging to partner with Dohyun. More precisely, they would be on their knees pleading for even a crumb of the fruit he chose to share — because Dohyun intended to monopolize the entire arcane business landscape.
But the scouts wrote him off as a blowhard peddling cheap bluster, shook their heads, and drifted away.
Exactly one figure remained.
The one who had stood silently at the back while the others had jostled forward to compete.
"The Mayor wishes to see you, Mr. Kim. Might you be able to spare the time?"
America, as everyone knows, moves by car. That said, most major American cities do have decent public transit — Los Angeles was not one of them.
It wasn't that transit didn't exist. It was that, thanks to the crime rate, nobody dared ride it. That was true even before the Cataclysm; now it went double.
In any case, with every soul in the city moving by private vehicle, LA was notorious for its chronic gridlock, and the car carrying Dohyun crawled no faster than the rest.
Oh — and the vehicle the LA Mayor had sent for his guest was not one of those dazzling limousines, but a plain American-made sedan.
'All those glittering limos on the table, and I'm riding in this rattling bucket.'
A trivial thing, really, but the situation struck Dohyun as funny, and he smirked.
'Meeting the LA Mayor in person should be even more entertaining.'
"Did the Mayor summon me for business as Mayor, or for business as CEO of HealthTech?"
The Mayor of Los Angeles: Byron Palmer.
Also the former CEO of HealthTech, a unicorn of the arcane business world. He had stepped down from the CEO chair upon taking office, but as an outside director he still quietly ran HealthTech from behind the curtain. There was a law on the books about Conflict of Interest for public officials — it simply wasn't enforced.
That was true in the past, and truer still these days.
"...I wouldn't know, Sir. I was only told to bring you to the Mayor."
"Then tell me — are you an employee of the city government, or of HealthTech?"
"...I'm employed by the Mayor personally."
"Haha. LA, through and through. The Mayor keeping a villain on personal retainer."
"!!"
At Dohyun's words, the driver's face froze solid.
'Tch. Hard to hold back the appetite.'
That's right. The man ferrying Dohyun to the LA Mayor was a villain — and one potent enough to make Myeolak salivate, hard.
'An appetite this fierce means at least monster-grade villainy or worse.'
Then again, considering the Mayor of LA's *true face*, it was hardly surprising.
The villain at the wheel clamped his mouth shut, and Dohyun clamped his own shut to choke down the hunger. With the conversation dead, Dohyun gazed out the window with bored eyes — and there it was, a billboard for HealthTech, the very company run by LA's mayor, Byron Palmer.
Fentanyl? That's so yesterday. Enjoy a safe, healthy stimulant instead! Neo-Healthy Drug (NHD) — a gift of guilt-free pleasure, from us to you!
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim! It's an honor to welcome America's hero! I should have come to the airport myself — my sincerest apologies for failing to do so!"
The Mayor of Los Angeles, Byron Palmer, was young — late thirties. Handsome enough to have walked out of a movie, more film star than politician, and with the silver-tongued sociability you'd expect from a businessman-turned-public servant.
But Dohyun couldn't return the greeting.
*Gulp.*
The moment he laid eyes on Byron Palmer, the appetite had come roaring awake.
He'd known, of course. The Mayor of Los Angeles, Byron Palmer, was a genuinely monstrous piece of work.
"Mr. Kim?"
"...S-sorry. The pleasure's mine as well."
Dohyun shook his head with an awkward smile.
'Hold it in, Myeolak. Not yet.'
Just as he'd hinted to the President, Dohyun did intend to eliminate Byron Palmer. The timing and method simply hadn't been settled yet.
'...But when he looks this delicious, it's awfully hard not to kill him right now.'
At this rate he was on the verge of causing an incident (?), so it seemed wise to wrap things up and part ways as quickly as possible.
"I know you're a busy man, so let's get to the point. What business did you summon me for?"
"Haha, surely that's obvious — I invited you to share a greeting with America's newest hero, of course."
"Mr. Mayor?"
Dohyun smiled.
"I said, let's get to the point."
"!!"
A chill crawled down Byron Palmer's spine. His expression shifted; he drew out a cigar, set it between his lips, lit it, and blew the smoke toward Dohyun.
"Whew. I called you here out of *concern* for you."
"Concern? For me?"
"SALA is hunting you."
A familiar name.
The Satan of LA — commonly shortened to SALA. A top-tier villain enthroned at the very apex of LA's underworld.
"You weren't ambushed at the airport today, by any chance? That was SALA's warning to you."
Dohyun nearly snorted.
'So the market sent that darling little hitman. Charming.'
By the US government's own classification, SALA ranked above Genocider. Genocider was 'Devil'-grade. SALA was 'Demon King'-grade.
For someone Dohyun actually cared about, SALA would never stoop to such a sloppy warning.
"You're hardly the first great hero to fall into SALA's hands."
"Mr. Mayor. I said get to the point. I'm afraid my patience is just about spent."
"...!!"
The smile drained from Byron Palmer's face entirely.
"Join HealthTech. Even SALA doesn't dare touch an NHD company."
"Is that everything you came here to say?"
Byron Palmer's face twisted in a scowl. Whatever thread of courtesy had remained, he swept aside, and his voice went cold.
"I don't care if you're Genocider or whatever the hell else. This is Los Angeles. You think you're the first insolent little punk to come strutting around like that? If you want to keep breathing, you'll do as I say. It's the only way a thing like you survives in my city."
After the meeting with Dohyun, past quitting time.
"We've arrived, Mr. Mayor."
Byron Palmer let out a long exhale as the car pulled up to a hotel on the outskirts of LA. His footsteps were the unhurried tread of a man who had been here many times before — and then an astonishing scene unfolded before him.
A party of debauchery was in full swing in the basement.
The trouble was, this was no ordinary pleasure party, no mere orgy.
Corpses lay scattered everywhere.
"I'll escort you to your room, Sir."
"Good. I need a proper release tonight. Make sure they're the kind that won't leave loose ends."
Byron Palmer took out his NHD and indulged. Even now, the look in Dohyun's eyes as he'd studied him made his skin crawl.
'Insolent whelp. A common street villain, daring to look at *me* like that. If the board hadn't specifically named him, I wouldn't have wasted a second on a nobody like—'
That was when it happened.
The door opened, and a slender man slipped inside. The lighting was too dim to make out his face clearly, but he seemed strikingly handsome.
Byron Palmer was bisexual. Apparently the hotel had prepared a male partner for him tonight.
'An oriental, of all things.'
The thought of Genocider from earlier left a bad taste in his mouth — but on reflection, this worked out nicely. Listening to someone scream in exquisite agony would lift his mood considerably.
"Come closer."
The moment the man drew near, however, Byron Palmer nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Y-you're—?!"
It was Dohyun.
Dohyun, beaming at him with a radiant smile.
"Peekaboo."