Chapter 281
Chapter 281
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 281
Chapter Title: 114. Ronin (2)
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I decided to let the man in.
Judging from the various circumstances, he was alone.
No other companions, no signs of any elaborate scheme.
Of course, first things first.
"Take off your clothes."
I had to check what needed checking.
"Everything except your underwear."
Normally, I wouldn't go this far, but since he'd come here alone to a place like this, it was safe to assume he was prepared to die.
Someone ready to die could be hiding an IED—improvised explosive device—and blow themselves up at any moment.
The man complied without resistance.
"You're pretty suspicious."
His emaciated frame was wiry with muscle, covered in scars both big and small.
He might look like some heroic underdog survivor at a glance, but to me? Not quite.
Were those really battle wounds?
No injuries that could cause lasting damage to joints or the abdomen—just shallow but prominent scars on his shoulders, forearms, and back, carefully avoiding the spine.
The shape of the scars and the tattoos spaced at regular intervals suggested showmanship more than actual combat, like an extension of the ink.
"Come in."
I opened the door.
Cheon Young-jae, standing beside me, asked,
"Can't we just kill him?"
"I have questions."
There was one more thing I hadn't mentioned to Cheon Young-jae.
I stared beyond the outer wall.
I could see it.
A black shape lurking in the abandoned farmland below.
A cat mutation.
The one we'd played tag with on the way to the DS area—it had followed me all the way here for some reason.
It was highly intelligent and experienced against armed humans, never giving me an angle.
If I went out with a gun, it'd bolt far away, which was damn frustrating.
Of course, if Kim Daram showed up, we could end it in three days max, but even I was curious about how that woman was faring now.
Beep—
The buzzer sounded, and the iron gate swung open.
The man gathered his rain-soaked clothes and slipped them on, whistling as he did.
His face, cleansed by the downpour, looked about my age.
"What kind of guy is he?"
I asked Defender as we descended the outer wall.
"A guy with some pull at the Hunter Academy. Not leader level, but he had his own crew."
As we went down the stairs, Defender glanced at the man and added curtly,
"But maybe they're all dead. Or..."
Before Defender could finish, we reached the man.
He turned to us with a sardonic sneer.
When his eyes met Defender's, he feigned surprise, but showed no further reaction.
Then he looked at Ha Tae-hoon.
"You're the Professor?"
His tone carried a protest.
"You're looking for someone like me."
The man snorted.
"Ah, we ended up finding the one who fits the callsign best."
Ha Tae-hoon was wearing glasses.
He didn't always, but he put them on for precision work.
Defender and Cheon Young-jae both looked at me.
They wanted a decision on his fate.
As expected, I had no intention of recruiting him or letting him live.
At best, banishment—if I felt generous—but sending away someone who could kill me? I'd learned the hard way from recent events just what a boomerang that could be.
So, I led him to my bunker.
I gave him a dry rag instead of a towel to wipe down and served him a cup of hot water.
No coffee, tea, or cheap powdered drinks—in the apocalypse, that wasn't a big slight.
A cup of well-purified hot water was generous for a hostile.
The man drained it with a satisfied look.
"Wow."
He scanned my bunker.
"Nice setup."
His gaze lingered on the central toilet.
"What's that? Some kind of torture device?"
"Answer my questions from here on."
I began the interrogation.
What I wanted to know most was the status of the Legion faction's hunters.
Defender had brought some intel, but he'd holed up in a shelter with his brother before things blew up.
This guy probably knew better—what the Legion hunters had gone through on the ground and their current state.
But he didn't seem eager to talk.
"Hell if I know. I was too busy saving my own skin. As you can see, no radio either? I know Kim Daram betrayed us, that rotten bitch."
From his smirking lips, his challenging expression daring me to try something, and the defiant glances he shot my way, I could read his intentions easily.
He had no plans to give us anything useful.
He'd come prepared for that.
So I asked,
"Why'd you come here alone, anyway?"
He shook his head and whipped around to face me.
"I've got business with you."
"With me?"
"Yeah, Professor. Came to see just how hot shit that guy made you out to be."
"Satisfied yet?"
He shook his head.
"One more thing."
"What?"
He pointed at me with his finger.
Lots left unsaid, but his demand was clear from the look in his eyes.
He glanced at Kim Pil-seong's wakizashi hanging on the wall.
"Kim Pil-seong. You killed him, huh? He had some skill. Too cocky for his own good, though. But what about me?"
He was proposing a duel with a cold weapon, just like Kim Pil-seong—meaningless to me.
"......"
Feeling my interest wane rapidly, I let out a shallow sigh.
The man sneered.
"What? Scared of me? Makes sense—Kim Pil-seong was terrified too. Kept dodging every time I challenged him."
Defender leaned in and whispered,
"Want me to drag him out?"
As I pondered, the man pointed at the bunker wall and yelled,
"Let's keep it simple. No guts to fight me? Hand over that sword.
"That sword?"
"Yeah. Give me that, and I'll leave. Or kill me like a coward with a gun. Or gang up and lynch me. But you proud Academy Hunters wouldn't stoop that low, right?"
If his goal was to pique my interest, he'd succeeded.
"What do you plan to do with that sword?"
I didn't think it held power like Excalibur from British myth.
But he seemed to believe otherwise.
"With that sword, I can rally the guys again."
"Doesn't make sense."
"That's your problem. Fight me fair, or beat me down like cowards."
His smirk suddenly turned to Defender.
"You know me, right?"
Defender said nothing.
"My callsign. You remember? After we had so much fun killing together."
I gave Defender a look, and he reluctantly nodded.
"Lawyer?"
I said the man's callsign first.
He nodded.
"Glad you're pretending to remember."
Probably not official.
Unlike us, Academy Hunters didn't get unique callsigns.
They were just units in monster-hunting squads, assigned fluid callsigns based on their unit name.
"Ever been a lawyer?"
"Almost."
He leaned back casually.
Tilting his head, he glared at me with a look of disdain and began his tale.
"Dad wanted me to go to law school. Could've if I'd wanted. Good school, decent family, easy exams, young enough. Had connections too. But get this—I did some public service work at the court."
I had no intention of humoring his story.
Ignoring our cold reception, he continued with that same fixed smirk.
"Nothing big. Helping court staff, searching visitors, that kinda boring shit. Got chummy with a clerk, was lending a hand when a pissed-off call came in. Overheard it—some judge ripping into 'what kind of compensation order is this?' Then suddenly, 'What class is the judge who approved this?'"
"You here to vent?"
I cut him off as his rambling dragged on, but he wasn't stopping.
"Can't you tell? That military judge prick going on about ranks—what he really meant?"
He stood up.
Under our icy stares, he headed past the central toilet to Kim Pil-seong's wakizashi on the wall.
Stroking it, he said slyly,
"That's how the world works. Everything's got ranks. Once you see through it, it's bullshit, but in this shitty world, it's treated like an unbreakable fourth-dimensional wall. Hospitals too, right? Guys who operate better than docs end up in jail just for not going to med school."
Defender shifted slightly.
Killing intent in his eyes.
I held Defender back and stepped toward the man.
He grinned.
"You and me too, huh? Doesn't seem that impressive, but some get half-legend status while others are treated like street trash."
"Tried it?"
Shing—
I drew my axe.
His lip curled upward triumphantly.
"What? Gonna fight after all?"
I advanced.
And asked,
"Ever hunted a monster?"
I stopped just close enough to touch if we reached out—but he didn't close the gap.
Because he'd stepped back.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
My sudden, relentless advance had unnerved him.
"Wh-what good does catching one do?! You'd just claim all the credit anyway!"
"And?"
I took another step.
"Wh-what?!"
He retreated as promised.
Thud.
His back hit the floor.
Tension flashed across his face, but he forced it down with a strained grin.
"What? Murder?"
"No."
Shing—
I drew a second axe.
"The bar exam."
Confusion crossed his tense face.
"Why the hell would I?"
"Why?"
"Didn't you hear? They'd treat me like a bastard anyway. Pointless."
"That's how you roll with everything, huh."
I don't like pigeonholing people, but I had this Lawyer's type pegged.
I stared him down.
"Doesn't it get tiring judging the world on flimsy assumptions without even trying?"
"What?"
"How'd that Kim Pil-seong you looked down on turn out?"
I pointed the axe at myself.
Come at me.
His confident pupils shook.
The swagger he'd arrived with was gone, replaced by sleazy desperation for surrender or a deal.
"At least that sword's owner..."
I lunged first.
"N-no, stay back!"
He swung wildly while retreating, but
Clang!
Two swings, and the sword flew from his grip to the floor.
As the blade's ring echoed like a dropped tray through the bunker, I aimed my axe at the now-unarmed man.
"...wasn't as sleazy as you."
I jerked my head.
"Get out."
He scuttled sideways like a crab.
I thought that was our last encounter.
Humans have a way of exceeding expectations, more often than not.
"Th-that sword......!"
The man said,
"......Can I have it?"
"?"
I stared at him puzzled.
"Please. Come on. Can't I?"
His pathetic expression short-circuited my brain.
I couldn't help it.
Begging so brazenly here?
Was that the flow?
No, could someone's stance flip that easily?
"Give me that sword. Please. Let me take it and go."
"What bullshit is this?!"
Cheon Young-jae charged from behind and grabbed the man's collar.
"You filthy worm!"
Cheon Young-jae pulled a dagger, eyes bulging, and held it to the man's throat.
I restrained Cheon Young-jae and let the man finish.
"......If I take that sword, the guys who ditched me will come crawling back."
He bowed his head.
"I'll repay you then. No, I will!"
That's when I pinpointed the unease this guy had stirred in me.
He was different from me.
A gulf between us, even as fellow humans, that defied understanding.
That difference?
No need to comprehend it.
I nodded to Defender.
Click—
Defender pressed the gun barrel to the man's temple.
"Out."
"Wait, just a sec!"
He spun toward me.
Glared with bulging eyes.
"Why?!"
"?"
"Can't you help a guy out?!"
"Why should I?"
"You're famous! Rolling in cash, right? Built this awesome bunker. After hogging all the perks, that one sword's nothing. Just give it!"
"Here's a deal."
I told him.
"Deal?"
"There's a mutation here."
"Mutation?"
"One cat mutation."
"Just one?"
He'd been trembling moments ago, now sneering with recovered ego.
"Kill it, and you get Kim Pil-seong's sword."
I glared.
"That should be a breeze for a hunter, right?"
"One, you said? The black one?"
"Yeah. Black one."
"Saw it. Bolted when I aimed."
The man left my territory.
He picked up the gun he'd dropped, waved energetically at us.
Something about it not taking long.
Dajeong's drone trailed him discreetly overhead.
With a brick mounted underneath.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots echoed relentlessly through the endless rain.
But they didn't last long.
*
"Ha, that cat bastard. What a vicious prick."
On the way back to my territory, a severed head was displayed prominently.
The terrified face belonged to the man who'd visited yesterday.
Lawyer, probably.
"The body?"
Cheon Young-jae asked Defender.
"Gone. Just brought the head, I guess."
Defender was handling the severed head.
As he descended with it impassively, we discussed next steps.
"We should kill that thing."
"Yeah. But we need a good sniper. Someone who can hit a target 1,200 meters out without hesitation."
"Try contacting Bang Jae-hyeok again."
"Bang Jae-hyeok?"
"Yeah. Give that guy a 7.62mm, and he'll take out the cat no problem. He's a crack shot."
Cheon Young-jae stretched languidly and gazed contentedly at the clear sky.
Still looking up, he asked,
"What if he'd killed the cat? What then?"
"Impossible, right?"
"What if he'd just bolted?"
I thought for a moment.
Then chuckled awkwardly.
"Eh, that'd be impossible too, wouldn't it?"
Cheon Young-jae glanced at me, but I said nothing.