Second Encounter with the Junkies
The delinquents muttered among themselves, eyes narrowing in recognition.
“Who the hell is that guy?”
“Far North? An elf? Wait, what?”
“Hey, hold on… isn’t that the bastard from before?”
“The one who did all that fucked-up shit to Hana—”
“Wait, that’s really him? Did he always look like that?”
They all seemed to recognize him at a glance. Far North elves weren’t rare in this country, but Kang Sian’s features left a particularly intense impression. It didn’t hurt that the things he’d done to them had been equally unforgettable. After all, even when several of them had jumped him at once underground, he had nearly come out on top.
Kang Sian? Sian?
But there was one person who didn’t need any hints to recognize him instantly. Lim Hana, who lived right next door, began trembling the moment she saw Kang Sian step out of the wrong house.
“Why?”
The single word carried layers of meaning—her own wretched situation, the overall circumstances, everything. The largest component wasn’t hatred. It was fear.
It was a truly strange reaction. After all, Lim Hana had always hated Kang Sian. She had clung to the belief that every single one of her mistakes had begun with him. So why was she afraid?
In a situation like this she should have been pouring out her hatred even more fiercely. Especially someone like her—a bold, combative, righteous mage. She ought to have stepped forward immediately and shown him the cold judgment of ice. Wasn’t the current trend all about strong women and combat mages anyway?
As an outstanding mage, she would demonstrate the cold punishment right away.
But none of that happened.
The longer she stared at Kang Sian, the more her brain felt like it was turning inside out. The visceral rejection of the memory that she had killed him. The refusal to face a painful reality she never wanted to confront. A memoir of the life she had walked until now. The price for all the self-destructive behavior she had committed under the name of friendship came crashing down on her at once.
She frantically pulled out some Gwangjeungcho from her pocket and tried to swallow it, but her body refused. Nausea surged up her throat. Even chewing and forcing it down proved almost impossible.
It was only natural. She had scrambled her brain—the organ that stored all the complexities of being human—with drugs. A rebound was inevitable.
Why, why… Don’t tell me that Kang Sian bastard did something to me…
In the grip of an unfamiliar pain, she turned her blame toward Kang Sian. But the thought was fleeting. Logically, it made no sense. There was a limit to how long she could deny reality and live inside her own made-up worldview. Especially now, when the drug’s effects were rapidly fading.
……
Her pride would die. Her will would vanish. The delusion of a mere childish fool would end like this. The desire to live would disappear, and the empty space it left behind would fill with self-loathing. The finale of a corrupt life. The final movement of the recital was approaching.
In this reality that felt like strange, crashing waves, Lim Hana felt utterly isolated.
Her boyfriend saw it and gently pulled her into his arms.
“Hana, stay right next to me.”
When Kang Sian witnessed the scene, he let out a long, exhausted sigh that said everything. The world felt like it was about to collapse, and honestly, it had every right to. The person who had completely upended his life. One of the two people who had altered the second chance he had tried to live somewhat normally. The problem was that she had changed it in a completely unforgivable direction.
He had helped her study, played with her constantly, and kept enduring, only to be repaid with betrayal. To Kang Sian, she was the queen of backstabbers.
Of course, it had happened when they were young and immature. It was an old story. Her personality back then and now couldn’t be exactly the same. If he considered every possible circumstance, there was no need to view her with pure, undiluted hatred.
But none of that was Kang Sian’s concern.
He had already made up his mind. The moment he learned through her little sister that she was still exactly the same, it was over.
That was why Kang Sian decided to be direct.
“I’m asking you. Who the hell are you people?”
He strode forward as he spoke. He carried no equipment at all—just a shirt, pants, and shoes. It looked woefully insufficient for acting so bold in front of armed hunters. Anyone would think so, and the other side felt exactly the same.
What the hell? Why is he so confident?
His overwhelming confidence was enough to cause genuine bewilderment. From An Yuncheon’s perspective, Kang Sian’s attitude was practically suicidal. How did he plan to win? Against them, who had trained and learned far more than before? Sure, he had lost in a one-versus-many fight in the past, but back then they could excuse it as a lack of proper training. Now that they had grown enough to aim for academy admission, an ordinary hunter aspirant was nothing but easy prey.
…Still, those other people are a bit concerning.
The unidentified manager and employees. He didn’t know why they were here or why they were tangled up with Kang Sian. He couldn’t predict what role they would play.
In the end he had to think for a moment.
Ah, fuck it. Their positions are lower than our parents anyway, so it’ll work out somehow.
It wasn’t a particularly constructive conclusion, but it was enough. After that simplistic line of reasoning, An Yuncheon steeled himself.
“What, you gonna throw a punch or something?”
He planted himself right in front of those sharp ears and blue-green eyes. Now they were face to face. Thanks to the height difference, he was the one looking up.
Kang Sian gave him an ice-cold stare.
“If that’s what you want?”
“I can’t exactly stand by and do nothing.”
It was brazen. At the same time, it was the desperate flailing of someone who saw yielding as defeat.
“While I’m still being nice, pick up every last piece of trash you people spilled.”
“No thanks? Why the hell should I listen to the bastard who used to harass my friend?”
As he spoke, he jabbed Kang Sian’s chest with his fist. It was blatant provocation, laced with instinctive contempt.
“Looks like we can’t communicate.”
“It’s not that we can’t communicate. I’m just ignoring you. Conversation is something you have with people, after all.”
“So you’re saying I’m not a person?”
“That’s right, you’re not. How could a stalker who assaulted my friend and us be considered human?”
“This is funny. You really just make up whatever the fuck you want.”
“Not as much as you, you son of a bitch.”
They hurled insults back and forth without retreating a single step. Kang Sian let out a hollow laugh and glared at him.
“Ha… son of a bitch is what your mother is. Oh, do you even have one?”
“Look at this bastard. I speak nicely and he tries to climb all over me?”
“The ones climbing all over people are you and your shitty friends. I didn’t even report you for attempted murder and this is the kind of bullshit you pull?”
“If we fight you’ll get beaten immed—”
The threat was cut off cleanly. Kang Sian took the opening and continued smoothly.
“Did someone drill a hole in your brain? Since you’re a junkie, maybe nothing comes to mind except your fragile ego?”
“You fucking bastard. Is there something even a dog or cow would forget?”
“It must have left quite an ugly memory. You and your friends. You all lost to me, completely.”
“This bastard.”
“So shut your worthless mouth right now, you piece of shit, and pick up the stuff. This is your last warning.”
An Yuncheon glared at Kang Sian with pure rage. He bared his teeth, face twisted into a savage expression.
“You short little fucker, where do you get off shoving your mouth in my face? Won’t shut it?”
His hand drifted lower. It closed around the hilt of his sword.
“I said shut it right now!”
“You son of a bitch—!”
Schwaack! Schwack!
The sword leaped from its sheath and sliced across Kang Sian’s chest twice. Fabric tore. Blood sprayed. He was knocked backward. Crimson welled from the gashes.
Kang Sian clutched his chest and lowered his head.
“I told you not to act up, you bastard!!”
The self-control eroded by drugs had finally snapped. He didn’t know what would happen next, but that wasn’t important to him right now. The fact that he had landed a clean hit. The fact that he had delivered justice in front of his friends. Those two things were all that mattered to An Yuncheon in this moment.
He naturally expected his friends behind him to be cheering. When he glanced back, however, every single one of their faces was stiff as stone.
Huh…?
Sensing something wrong, he looked forward again. Kang Sian was calmly raising his head.
“Wh-what?”
He had definitely cut deep into the chest twice. The man should have lost strength and collapsed.
“You started this.”
It looked far too insignificant. This was wrong. How could an untalented hunter aspirant take such a deep, powerful strike and still—
“Shallow?”
Looking closer, the wounds were indeed shallow. Blood flowed, but they were far from fatal. A little ointment and a bandage would be enough to heal them. He was shocked that even an attack without magic imbued had only produced such minor damage.
Did he protect his chest with magic? But that’s a technique that requires excellent magic control…
What was going on? He had definitely heard the guy had no talent.
While An Yuncheon was still processing that thought, Kang Sian took several steps back and approached the Nartica manager.
“Manager Seo, call Mari right now and tell her to come immediately. Also tell the other employees to evacuate to a safe location.”
He had spoken softly, so only the two of them knew the contents. It was around then that An Yuncheon snapped out of his distracting thoughts.
“Oh, and secure the CCTV footage for this area as well.”
The command disguised as a request ended there. Kang Sian immediately stepped forward again. The intent to fight bare-handed. Faced with that confidence, An Yuncheon had to grip his sword properly.
If it doesn’t cut the first time, I’ll just cut him multiple times. There’s no need to be afraid.
It would definitely work. An Yuncheon focused on the center of his flickering vision once more and swung his sword at the chest. The strike was accurate and within range; it looked like another clean hit would land.
Huh?
The attack merely grazed the twisted body. Kang Sian looked at him with perfect composure. Startled, An Yuncheon launched a flurry of attacks.
“What are you doing?”
Not a single one connected. Before he realized it, Kang Sian was already right in front of him.
“What the fuck!!!”
Along with the curse, the sword swung again. Or rather, it tried to.
“Where do you think you’re swinging that?”
“Ugh?!”
The blade was caught mid-swing. It happened before he could even lift it. An Yuncheon shouted and tried to wrench the sword free, but aside from a thin smear of blood on the edge, nothing happened.
Kang Sian kept his calm expression and poured magic into the left hand gripping the blade.
“Shatter.”
A short word. A faint, ominous cracking sound rang out. An Yuncheon’s eyes rolled downward. What he saw was a sword in a shocking, despairing state—deep cracks, a warped shape, and pieces already flaking off. The moment Kang Sian applied more force, the blade shattered completely. It fell to the floor in fragments like broken glass.
“Well, it must have been a sword that rolled around some F-rank dungeon.”
“Wh-whaaat?!!!”
It was one of the basic martial techniques combined with destruction magic. Of course, it was a skill that didn’t work on proper weapons. Its practicality was low. Therefore, the opponent’s weapon had clearly been either a serious defective product or horribly maintained.
An Yuncheon fell into confusion at the destruction of his weapon. But Kang Sian didn’t give him even a moment’s grace.
“Ke, kehuk, kuaaack…!”
He grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him clean off the ground. An Yuncheon thrashed in extreme agony, flailing his arms wildly and kicking his legs. The impacts were negligible. In the end he tried to pull a knuckle duster from his pocket, but even that was blocked.
Thud!
“A-agh, aaack—!”
A heavy blow struck his groin. The golden knuckle clattered to the floor. His eyes rolled back. His breath hitched. The end was in sight; death itself seemed to have arrived. The air felt unusually, painfully cold.