The Shield
With the capture of the Champ Frog as their reward, they had been granted access to the Shelter's storage. Everyone who had participated in the hunt would get their turn to go inside — though not quickly. It was an unofficial arrangement, so people were being let in and out of the warehouse at staggered intervals, and a few days ago, it had been the Montage Family's turn to go through.
"You know chances to get into the Shelter's storage don't come around often, right?"
"Aye, I know. You think I wouldn't?"
"Hmm... so there was something in there you wanted, then?"
Won-goo didn't ask what the item was. Montage was a family head with his own people to feed, which meant he surely had plans of his own. Asking which item had moved him would have been the same as prying into those plans — close as they were, that was a question you didn't ask.
"That's right."
"Hyung-nim, if you're going as far as making this kind of request... is it the sort of thing that only works as a pair? Something that only shows its true power in twos?"
"Well... something like that, aye."
"I won't ask anything more. In exchange, you give me time to think. This isn't a decision I can make on my own."
"Fair. You're right. No matter how close we are, this isn't something one man should decide alone."
"Please give us gukbap for the whole group. Make one of them a soybean sprout gukbap."
Lee Hyun-sung said it the moment they stepped into the restaurant. Without anyone needing to say a word, Won-goo's crew pushed the scattered tables together to form one long seating line.
"Hyun-sung, order plenty of the boiled pork slices too."
"Yes, Hyung-nim!"
Geum Chul-soo casually went and pulled out soju and beer, and Jo Mu-sa and Su-won pitched in to help. Nobody said a word about it, but nobody objected either — Won-goo's crew usually drank with their meals, and it never fazed them.
Survivors only got drunk when something had been added to the alcohol. On pure liquor alone, the odds of it affecting them were close to nil. That went double for heavily coin-enhanced folk like Won-goo's crew.
Geum Chul-soo and the youngest members set out the spoons and chopsticks and poured the drinks.
"Are you thinking of handing it over?"
Jo Mu-sa asked first.
"Still deliberating. What's your read, Mage-nim?"
"Shouldn't the real question be what we get in return for handing it over?"
"Well... yes, that's true, but... would the Montage hyung-nim's side even have anything worth taking?"
"It sounds complicated."
"Hye-ji, what was that?"
"I said the math seems complicated."
"It is complicated. In a case like this, the answer changes depending on whether you set the price against the Shelter pass itself or against what's inside — that's the part that matters."
Pacific drained a shot of soju into his water glass in one go as he said it, all while pulling the IV needle out of his arm.
"Handing it over feels like taking a loss... but lowballing him afterward feels too stingy."
"Why are you agonizing over this so much? That's the part you should just leave to Director Gong's style. Just go with it."
Pacific had been mimicking Mu Beob-sa's verbal tic for a while now, but nobody paid it any mind.
"My style? And what exactly is my style?"
"When you give, you give big. Montage hyung-nim. I haven't known him long, but he strikes me as the type who'd share his corner of the road with you?"
"No harm in staying on good terms. The kinds of jobs Montage hyung-nim needs are scattered all over the place."
Montage's ability wasn't some earth-shattering thing. But traveling with him never hurt. He was a sort of bonus-plus-one.
And on top of that, the Montage Family was growing steadily on its own — that was what mattered.
"Isn't that the part where Director Gong feels they're a bit lacking in impact?"
So said Mu Beob-sa.
"Good read this time, Mage-nim. Montage hyung-nim's people are decent enough, but they're missing something in the impact department."
"Hmm... it's true, there's no one whose abilities really jump out at you. But do you think Montage hyung-nim doesn't know that himself?"
"...?"
"The man's a veteran. Who'd know better than him? He's probably already been wrestling with that exact problem."
At that, Won-goo, a faint smile on his lips, stared straight at Pacific and held out his glass. Their glasses clinked with a light tap.
Meanwhile, the boiled pork slices arrived first.
"Well, well. For once you're making sense."
"Don't get cocky just because I got saved once. I'm Pacific, you hear me? Pacific. I've gone in and out of dungeons solo. Me."
"Right. And never cleared one."
"Fair point. Anyway, seeing that hyung-nim say something that needy to you — he's clearly trying to fill that missing impact. If he's offering something like this, isn't it worth investing in? I ran the radar, and even the shelter called Ark, I think it was — they've got a good reputation there too."
"When exactly did you run this radar?"
"Come on... I worked solo back in the day. This much is basic."
"So, everyone — what do we think of our youngest, Pacific's opinion? Does it hold water?"
"I'm in favor. That's the part I say."
Nobody raised an objection.
"Then I'll work the deal at a reasonable line. Now let's eat."
Everyone dug in with gusto.
"You all remember the Seal we picked up a while back. Recently we found out what it's for, and I'm planning to attach it to Hyun-sung. Any objections?"
Everyone nodded. Lee Hyun-sung fought at the very front of the line — the position most constantly exposed to danger.
And the rare Seal ability of resurrection paired beautifully with the Huang Zhiheng's Chinese Cleaver he already carried. It had come into their hands at exactly the right moment.
"Besides, the time has come for Hyun-sung to throw away his shield, too."
"A vanguard throwing away his shield? Why?"
Pacific asked. As he said, for the man standing at the front of the line, solid armor was a must. Even if you wore light armor for mobility, common sense said you always carried a shield.
Telling him to throw it away was hard to wrap his head around.
"It's because of Hyun-sung's Gift. And because what he's holding is Huang Zhiheng's Chinese Cleaver."
"The Named item?"
"That's right."
"What was its ability again...?"
"He has one. A good one."
"Hey! I'm crew now too, you know...!"
Thwack.
Instead of answering, Won-goo threw the gun he'd been carrying at Pacific, who caught it in a daze.
"Make do with that."
"Wait, isn't this the one Director Gong uses? I can't shoot."
"It's a gun you adapt to fast, so don't worry. You can't keep doping up on drugs every single fight, can you?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Normally you stay in the rear with Hye-ji. Only hand over the gun when I tell you to pass it forward. You remember the signal, right?"
"I remember."
"I'll be up front with Hyun-sung. So — hand over the shield."
"The shield?"
"Yeah. You've got shields in stock too, don't you?"
"I do, but... everything I've got is absurdly heavy? You know that. What the Fishers use is a bit... spec-heavy."
"I know. Just find me whatever's portable and hand it over."
"Honestly... you talk like I'm your errand boy. Hold on."
Then, instead of rummaging through his bag, Pacific pulled a ledger out from inside his coat.
"Hmm... is the spec a problem?"
Pacific asked, reading from the ledger.
"How heavy are we talking?"
"Ridiculously heavy."
"But the defense has to be solid, then?"
"Obviously. Just keep in mind it's genuinely heavy. It came out of the Shelter's armory."
"So it came out with the weight-reduction option locked."
"Right. That's why it's so heavy. Anyway... let's go to the warehouse. Good news — it's at the one in Sabbath."
"Wait, what? You have a warehouse in Sabbath too?"
"Why ask what's obvious?"
"You barely ever come to Sabbath."
"Honestly... Director Gong. The first thing I do at any shelter I visit is open a warehouse."
"So you have a warehouse at every shelter? And they all have goods in them?"
Won-goo wasn't easily surprised, but this time he couldn't help it.
"Not all of them. Plenty of places just have an empty warehouse. And I haven't filled the ones in shelters that do have goods to the brim."
"Brim or no brim, still... where the hell did you run a pyramid scheme?"
"What scheme... I made good money back in my active days, didn't I?"
"You were that big?"
"Director Gong, you really do look down on me. Let's just go. You have to see the goods with your own eyes."
The crew headed for the district where the warehouses were clustered.
Pacific's warehouse wasn't large. It was barely a tenth the size of the Nero Family Warehouse.
The moment it opened, the crew all winced. Nothing was organized at all. Goods had been dumped in at random until it was impossible to tell whether this was a warehouse or a junk shop.
"Can you even find anything in here?"
"I can. Why couldn't I? It's all just—"
CRASH!
The slightest touch sent the pile above it cascading down.
"I'm no neat freak myself, but isn't this beyond serious?"
"For this body, this much is impressive. I hauled all of this in myself."
"Hauled it in? You threw it in."
"What can be thrown gets thrown. What shouldn't be thrown doesn't get thrown. How rational is that?"
"Sure. Peak rationality."
Won-goo looked on with a pitying expression.
"Director Gong. Isn't this the part where we call for Dan-shin?"
"I believe it is, yes."
Once Dan-shin arrived, the cleanup began at speed. Alone, it would have taken him forever — but this time he wasn't alone, and the crew pitched in alongside him. They had goods to find, after all.
"This is it. Found it."
What Pacific pointed to was a metal bracer.
"I picked it up after a Fisher dropped it. Great performance."
"Oh, that's the one, isn't it? The expanding shield?"
"Director Gong spots it right away. Correct."
Won-goo immediately slipped on the wrist shield. Despite being metal, it had an elastic quality like a rubber band, and it slid over his thick forearm without any trouble. When he clenched his fist and flexed, the bracer snapped open with a bang, reshaping itself into a shield.
It was big enough to cover roughly half of his upper body.
"I wish it were a little bigger, though..."
"Director Gong, that's just because you're a big man."
"I'm average."
"You're on the tall side, and you know it."
"Fine. Anyway, it'll do nicely."
"Is the weight right?"
"Not even close. Way too heavy."
Wearing it and lifting it was one thing; using it in actual combat was another. Even the slightest mismatch in weight made a shield unusable in a real fight.
"That's what I said, isn't it?"
"I'll just pump my strength up with coins until it fits."
"Won't that cost a fortune?"
"Not that much. Did everyone find what they needed?"
But the crew hadn't picked up anything. Most of the items here were Fisher-exclusive gear, which was a poor fit for the crew as they stood now. The only catch of note was Rafael's vest-type armor. Being a vest, it didn't impede movement, but its flaw was the same one — weight. Aside from Rafael, nobody in the crew could use it.
"Oh, and Pacific. You don't happen to have any spellbooks or sword manuals or anything like that, do you?"
"Stuff like that gets sold the moment I get it. No reason to stockpile it."
"Well, thanks for this. Let's go. Dan-shin, you want to stay here?"
"May I stay a little longer?"
"Suit yourself. Just don't overdo it."
"Yes, Director-nim!"
"We're off. Time to go earn some coins."
"Let's settle it at thirty Gold Coins."
"That alright? Ain't you letting it go too cheap, boy?"
"He's right. Feels too cheap, doesn't it?"
"It's cheap. I tried to ask for more and the crew talked me out of it. They must've grown attached to your people in the meantime. Honestly... with a heart this soft, how am I supposed to survive a hard world?"
Won-goo said it with a sly grin, and Montage didn't dislike that grin one bit.
"Much obliged. You knew I would, aye?"
"Knew what?"
"You know our style. You need help, I'll help you out with the full course, anytime."
"Is 'full course' really the word for that situation? Because I'm pretty sure it isn't."
"Long as the meaning lands, who cares which road we take. You gonna nitpick that too?"
"Just one question. You doing this to shore up your crew's strength, hyung-nim?"
"What else would it be? If we were planning to sell it off and eat the profits, I wouldn't be doing it like this."
"Figured as much."
"Well then — thanks a bunch."
"By the way, why is that rascal Jaws asleep every single time he comes over?"
Jaws was snoring from the nose, dead to the world in the deepest sleep.
"Beats me. The pup... getting that prosthetic leg tattooed on or whatnot — shock must've hit him hard. You could beat this rascal and he wouldn't stir. Watch."
Slap!
Montage smacked him clean across the cheek, and Jaws didn't so much as twitch.
"Man, can that guy sleep."
"Say, you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"My boy came over for a meal today and told me."
"...?"
"That place where the earthquake hit, you know."
"Yes."
"They're saying it's snowing like crazy out there?"
"What kind of spot is that region? A weather delicacy joint. Snow right after an earthquake?"
"That's what they say. And it keeps coming, they tell me."
"Keeps coming?"
"Keeps coming. Still falling right now, far as they know."
At that, the expression on Won-goo's face hardened.
"This isn't connected to Ganjeol Point, is it?"
"Doesn't seem like it... but I'll go look into it and get word to you."
"Understood."