Regeneration
“I'm not joking. I mean it. I could have taken Number Four too. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. Sorry to say this to Yeongyeong and Fresh, but…… if Number Four had attacked our people back then, I would have moved.”
“You calculated what would come after as well, didn't you, Director?”
Jeon Hye-ji asked.
“I did. What I never saw coming was the Number Society jumping in like that. Even if I'd caught Number Four, the Society isn't just her. There are ten more monsters on her level in there.”
The faces of the crew hardened at those words.
Just how many survivors could a single powerful survivor handle? The question still had no clear answer. One thing was certain, though—they were steadily entering an era where numbers meant nothing in front of a properly enhanced survivor. The force Number Four had displayed had given them a brief taste of exactly that.
“Th-then I'm n-not w-worried about Ganjeol Point either. The D-Director has n-never been wrong b-before.”
Suwon said.
“Right. No matter what anyone says, the lives of our people come first for me. So stop worrying, old man. I get why you're worried, though.”
The reason Mu Beob-sa was concerned was that Won-goo's crew couldn't exactly be said to be at full strength right now. And the reason for that was none other than Mu Beob-sa himself failing to do his part.
His mana circuits were badly tangled, and so a mage who could not use magic. It would unravel someday, but no loss of fighting power could be more fatal than this. A mage was always precious—a core resource in any group.
Won-goo knew what was in the old man's heart, and this time he didn't brush it off with his usual prickliness.
“That's a relief to hear, the part about being prepared.”
“But that's for the absolute worst case. Always…… this is the hidden among hiddens. You all know by now—my ability burns through way too many coins.”
“We know.”
Jo Mu-sa chimed in.
“And yeah, Ganjeol Point has the numbers, but we don't lose on quality. Their executives are supposed to be a bit strong, but think of them as roughly on par with the Black Shelter executives. That's manageable, don't you think?”
“So we just need Ganjeol not to show up in person, right?”
Jeon Hye-ji's question cut straight to the heart of it.
“Right. If Ganjeol steps in himself, things get big. Then we pull back.”
“Can we actually pull back? We wouldn't be the only ones going in.”
“We pull back anyway. We can't be guinea pigs when we don't even know exactly what Ganjeol's ability is. Anyone here actually want to fight the man for real?”
No one raised a hand. They had all heard about Ganjeol over and over. When even Won-goo—who sized things up fairly accurately—called the man dangerous, who was going to volunteer?
Above all, there wasn't a single reckless braggart among Won-goo's people. If you had to pick the crew member with the most bravado, it would be Lee Hyun-sung—but even his bravado could be wiped away with a single word from Won-goo, so it was a non-issue.
“And the odds are good Ganjeol won't come out.”
“How so?”
“I won't be there. Without me, they'll figure Sabbath is easy pickings. It's not like they're aiming to slaughter everyone, so they won't need to push all the way to the end.”
It had been a while since the crew had sat down and talked like this, and it did them good. Having the Apartment Complex settled definitely had its advantages. Each member had claimed their own zone and settled in, and that opened up a lot of possibilities. Back at Ark, they'd had to keep their heads down—these were people who hadn't even been able to talk freely.
“Director Gong, all ready here.”
Fresh came over.
“Got your head on straight?”
“Yep. Body feels great. Eyes look sharper too.”
“Then let's go.”
Won-goo stepped forward. It was time to head to the nearby Coin Exchange.
In the early days of the apocalypse, there had been no such thing as a shelter. To be precise, shelters existed, but it took considerable time before a survivor found one. Fourteen days—that was how long it took the first survivor to discover a shelter.
So did survivors in that window survive on nothing but their given Gifts? They did not.
The Coin Exchange had been found from day one, and until gaining entry to a shelter, survivors made heavy use of the booths. Then, once several shelters had been discovered, the Coin Exchanges saw fewer and fewer users.
The reason was simple: too many incidents kept happening around the booths.
Whether a Coin Exchange sat out in the field or inside a shelter, hostile acts were forbidden within it all the same. The functions were identical too. The only difference was whether it stood inside a shelter or outside.
But that one difference changed a great deal—because inside a shelter, at least, you didn't get ambushed on your way to a coin upgrade. The reverse held as well. It stung to come out freshly drained of coins, sure, but a survivor was still worth money. This was, after all, a world where simply selling off the items you carried was far more efficient than hunting down some ordinary monster.
For a while, the roadkill business—lying in wait for survivors entering or leaving a Coin Exchange—had all the rage, and naturally, survivors stopped using field booths. No customers, no business; that was just how the world worked. Roadkill remained a major revenue source for the gangs, but nobody bothered ambushing near a Coin Exchange anymore.
“There's a Coin Exchange around here? I've been all over this area and never once seen it.”
“There is. Hardly anyone uses it, though.”
Even Gong Won-goo hadn't known the way to the nearest booth. All he knew was that one existed somewhere in the area. Suwon did the guiding. No matter how the terrain had warped under the unpredictable weather, he never got a route of his wrong.
“Hyun-sung. Clear them out, quick.”
“Yes, Hyeong-nim!”
Being out in the field, they ran into monsters on the way. A few orcs—not even worth Won-goo's attention. Lee Hyun-sung carved up all three on his own.
Orcs. Fairly strong monsters, divided into grades within their own kind, dangerous enough that carelessness could bite you—but they were no match for Hyun-sung. The man as he stood now could take on all three Dullahans from the Number Bridge. Against orcs, it was cold rice with a side of easy.
With the orcs dealt with, an outpost came into view.
“Is that a military checkpoint?”
“This area used to be a military base, I think.”
“Military bases—reminds me of that guy. You know Go, Director Gong?”
“That huffing-and-puffing bastard?”
“Know what happened to him?”
“Didn't he get backstabbed and done in?”
“No. There's a place like this on Mt. Yuhyang too. Not a Coin Exchange, but still.”
“And?”
“He stepped on a landmine.”
“There are still landmines lying around?”
“Yep. One blew up while he was running off with the spoils. Boom. First time I learned divine punishment actually exists.”
“Stepping on a mine doesn't kill everyone, though. Wasn't he an enhancement type?”
“Guess his enhancements were lacking. Or the mine was just powerful? Turned into chunky red paste on the spot—hung off a tree in pieces. Man…… those mines are legit. There aren't any around here, right?”
“I was about to tell you to watch your step right there…… and you stepped on it.”
“What?”
“Don't move.”
“……”
Fresh's face went rigid.
“Relax. If you detonate a mine right, you can settle for losing just a foot.”
“I only just got my arm reattached after blowing it off, you…… son of a—”
Even as he cursed, Fresh reached into his jacket for a cigarette. But halfway through pulling it out, he caught sight of Gong Won-goo's face. The man was grinning.
“Goddammit…… you're joking around with THIS?!”
“You were wound up so tight, I figured you needed it.”
“Reeled in hook, line, and sinker. Agh……”
Won-goo then turned his gaze to Yeongyeong, standing behind them with her mouth pressed shut. Her skin still hadn't recovered properly.
Thwip!
Won-goo tossed over the pouch at his hip.
“That's five. Take these and go upgrade too.”
“……?”
“……?”
Fresh and Yeongyeong both stared at him in astonishment.
“Couldn't hand this over earlier with Pacific and Montage-hyeong around. They're not the type to gripe about something like this, but feelings are funny things all the same.”
“……”
“……”
“Upgrade with these too. Put half into mental resistance and spread the rest across toughness-type traits. I don't know how you've built yourself so far, so that's the best guidance I can give.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I'm not giving it. It's a loan.”
“Still, coins……”
“Yeongyeong.”
“……?”
“You're going to get proper revenge, aren't you? It'd be a damn shame if your body kept you from fighting the way you should. Let's settle the accounts after this is done—go get stronger and then we'll talk.”
“I won't refuse, Ttaeng-gu-ssi.”
“That tongue of yours is back, so you'll bounce back in no time. Go on.”
Yeongyeong carried the weighty coin pouch into the checkpoint. From the moment she entered to the moment she came back out, less than five minutes had passed.
But in that brief span, her skin had shifted to a far brighter tone than before. Proof that regeneration was underway.
The survivors of Ganjeol Point, led by Cain, and those who had come out from Shelter Sabbath stood facing each other across an open lot near Sabbath. The location had been chosen deliberately—on the opposite side from where Buri Island lay.
Cain had, as a matter of form, sent notice telling them to come out and fight properly, but he didn't believe for a second the other side would actually honor it.
In that case, what waited for him was a human hunt: picking off the survivors who trickled out of the settlements around Sabbath. It was the sort of thing only the vilest of gangs did—but right now, it was permitted. And Cain had always had a particular taste for the human hunt. The rush when an ambush landed. The euphoria of watching despair crawl across a face. It was only because he belonged to Ganjeol that he held it in. His true nature was closer to a bottom-feeder roadkill gang, and Cain knew it better than anyone. He simply couldn't bring himself to give up the benefits that came with Ganjeol's great big fence.
“Got some nerve, I'll give you that. You actually came out.”
Cain grinned slyly. He couldn't make sense of the Sabbath survivors standing in front of him, Sapiens at their head. What the hell kind of nerve did it take? The question crossed his mind, but it didn't matter. As always, all he had to do was settle the pecking order—decisively.
“Any reason not to?”
“Look around you.”
“……?”
“Sanghae's not here, is he? He knows. He knows there's no winning this. So what exactly did the rest of you grow the balls for?”
Sapiens faced off against Cain.
“That Hyeong-nim isn't someone who plays games in the field.”
“Excuses. Still, you managed a decent headcount.”
The business owners had their own standing manpower after all. Small-scale on their own, but pooled together it amounted to something. The problem was that most of them weren't combat specialists. Cain's men, on the other hand, were professionals of violence. There was no contest to be had.
“We've got more of us.”
“Sure. About ten more, maybe? You think that does it? That's not 'more'—that's 'not enough.'”
Cain laughed brightly, and Sapiens laughed just as brightly.
“You can't count. Should check behind you too.”
“What?”
Fwooosh!
The sound of a massive firework tearing the air rang out, and a dome-shaped barrier bloomed into existence—deployed so fast that Cain had no time to do anything at all.
Cain's fatal flaws were two: he never learned that Won-goo was alive to the very end, and he had been stupid enough to send formal notice, digging his own grave. He had made his own trap laughably easy to spring. If two sides had declared war on each other, this was the last kind of venue they should allow—and the moment the enemy agreed to it, suspicion should have been the first thing on his mind. He had done neither.
And there was no way a sharp one like Won-goo would miss that. The trap had been laid just right, sealing Cain in so that flight was no longer an option.
Sapiens tilted his chin toward the rear of the barrier. With Cain locked in the jar, there was no need to hurry. Won-goo's party walked toward the barrier at an unhurried, almost leisurely pace.
“New face, huh? Who'd you hire?”
“New face, my ass. The most seasoned veteran you'll ever see.”
“……?”
“Gong Won-goo. You came looking for him once to tell him you'd killed him—remember?”
“……”
For an instant, Cain's face froze.
“That Hyeong-nim's ability is revival. Three days—that's all it takes, and he comes back from anywhere. It's an absolute bitch of a thing.”
Sapiens beamed, guileless—and the mass of scars across his face seemed to smile right along with him.