A Definite Source
Black.
"Even setting aside how the shelter outfits all compete with each other, we're all living off the same foundation... Isn't this going too far?"
"Didn't things like housewarming visits and condolence calls die out when the world flipped over?"
The voice was a mellow country drawl. Its owner was a short but thickset man with a considerable belly hanging over his belt.
He was quietly observing the situation, sucking on an inhaler.
"So that's who it was—Dr. Woo. You're so short I couldn't see you."
"Being short has its perks, I'll tell ye."
"What brings you here, Dr. Woo? This is a gathering for shelter representatives only."
"Ah went out and took over a pharmacy that came up fer sale, that's what."
At that, the eyes of every shelter owner in the room swung toward Dr. Woo.
"Don't get the wrong idea. Ah just bought it because the price was right. Ah'll never touch anything those Thousand Eyes Cult vermin are mixed up in. Ah've got my own debts to collect from those bastards, mind ye."
"Everyone here has ties to Cheonmok. Bad ones, mostly."
"That's right. So ah understand Director Dong's feelings, and it's not that ah can't understand Director Gong's either. If ah'd known Youngjae Pharmacy was tied to the Thousand Eyes Cult, ah'd never have bought it. But look here—matters of eatin' and survivin'... you can't go settlin' 'em emotionally like this. It's a tragedy that friend of yours, the beast Trainer, got sliced into thirty pieces. But we've all got mouths to feed, don't we?"
"Get to the point. What exactly are you trying to say?"
"A debt of the heart is still a debt, and a loss ought to be compensated—that's what ah'm sayin'."
"And you're stepping forward for this, Dr. Woo?"
"We all step forward together. Ain't that right?"
Dr. Woo glanced around the room as he spoke. The mood was one of agreement all around.
And that was when Sapiens cut straight through it.
"I'm out."
"Director Dong. Acting this selfishly, after everything—"
"It's not selfishness. I just figure staying out of it is the smarter play."
"We all know Director Gong's skills are impressive, but—"
"Do we actually know how impressive? Is anyone here able to properly assess Director Gong's Gift?"
"Wasn't he running that Trailer of his?"
Sapiens flashed a bright smile at that.
"Jo Jin-hyuk!"
At his call, Jo Jin-hyuk stepped out, his head wrapped in bandages. He tried to dart forward nimbly and winced mid-hop, his movements stiff and labored.
"I fed this guy a s***-ton of Gold Coins trying to build him into a strike squad. Poured everything into raw Strength. And then he picked a fight with Hyeong-nim Won-goo and got beaten like a dog. If Hyeong-nim hadn't gone easy on him for my sake, that helmet of his would have about ten holes punched through it right now. That man's Gift is not a special-type. It's an enhancement-type."
Sapiens spoke with burning intensity in his eyes.
"An enhancement-type, you say?"
"I'd stake my life on it. Nothing else could produce combat power like that."
"He was absurdly strong, now that you mention it."
A low murmur rippled through the merchants.
"Then how do you explain that Trailer?"
The corner of Sapiens's mouth curled upward.
"I believe our Dr. Woo is operating under a rather large misunderstanding."
"...?"
"Do I have any obligation to explain myself?"
"Ah... Director Dong, my mistake. Let me correct myself. How would one explain the Trailer's abilities, then?"
"How would anyone know the inner workings of another man's household? If I had to speculate, I'd say it's not Director Gong's ability at all—it belongs to someone else."
At that, faces flickered through everyone's minds—each person recalling a different one.
"Heh heh... so that's how the wheels turn, is it."
"In any case, I'm removing myself from this affair. Anyone with a different opinion is welcome to scheme to your hearts' content."
And with that final remark, Sapiens shut his mouth for good.
The heart of the shelter.
Won-goo was still dragging in patients and running his clinic. The number of people he'd treated had grown fivefold since before.
It had reached the point where counting how many bodies were laid out at any given moment was a losing game.
Thwack! Thwack!
"Found him, sir!"
The vanished Il-chul had returned. The bleeding from his head had long since stopped.
"Well, I'll be... now isn't that a surprise? Didn't expect you to come find me first. I was actually wondering if I'd have to go hunt you down. I'm impressed. Genuinely impressed."
"Heh heh..."
When Won-goo beamed at him, Il-chul grinned right along with him. Won-goo stretched out an arm and draped it over his shoulder.
"You found him?"
"Yes, sir."
"You're certain?"
"It's a rock-solid source."
"Swear it? If this info turns out to be garbage, I'm wringing every drop of ketchup out of your body."
"Aw, come on... Il-chul here has never lived that untrustworthy a life. Even among solo survivors, I've got myself a reputation, you know."
"You'll forgive me. I don't trust bald men as a rule."
"That's hurtful, sir! I'm not bald!"
"Then what's this?"
"I shaved it!"
"S***... why would you shave a perfectly good head? Planning to use it as a reading lamp at night? Why? WHY?"
Il-chul flinched hard at Won-goo's roar.
"I... I wanted to look younger..."
"Grow it back. By the next time I see you, I want that thing thick and lush. Got it?"
"Yes, sirr..."
"And another thing, you little punk—with that pointy skull of yours, you already look OLD. What is that head, a horn? Anyone would think you were a unicorn. Even if Michelangelo came back from the dead and carved it himself, he couldn't produce a shape this ridiculous."
"..."
"Anyway. This rock-solid source of yours. What is it? Feed me one more 'sauce' joke—Dionysus sauce, sriracha sauce, sauce-this, sauce-that—and I'll turn you into actual extract."
"I know how to read the room, sir."
"Then talk. What is it?"
"The real owner of Youngjae Pharmacy is said to be Pharmacist Kim."
"That long-haired bastard?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wasn't he the lowest on the totem pole?"
"Only on the surface, apparently."
"Sly bastard. So—Pharmacist Kim. Hyun-sung! Files!"
"Yes, Hyeong-nim!"
Lee Hyun-sung promptly handed over the documents. Won-goo gave them a passing glance.
"Hee-jun, eh. Kim Hee-jun. Effective immediately, the name 'Hee-jun' is blacklisted too. But Il-chul. Is that everything?"
"There's more. They say he bolted for Black."
"He ran to the Black Shelter?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You're sure about this one too?"
"Ah... pretty sure, yes."
At that, Won-goo broke into a radiant smile again.
"Il-chul! I always knew you had it in you!"
Beaming with delight, Won-goo stroked Il-chul's head.
Basking in the praise, Il-chul smiled along happily.
"Hey, Jo Mu-sa. What are you doing over there? Put a bandage on Il-chul's head. Not the plain kind—the good stuff. You know, the one with the cheerful little electric mouse on it."
Jo Mu-sa obligingly pressed a bandage featuring a beaming electric mouse onto Il-chul's scalp.
"Cute. Suits you. The yellow really pops on you."
"Heh heh. You think so?"
"Anyway, good work. So he went to the Black Shelter?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Great job out there! See? Ask and ye shall find. Right? Take the rest of the day. I'll see you around."
Won-goo's crew filed straight out the door.
Il-chul smiled along in agreement—then felt something odd settle over him.
Touching the bandage over his head wound, he couldn't shake the nagging sensation that he'd just been played for a fool in some significant way.
"Stop squatting there like a puppy needing to pee. If you've got questions, spit them out."
Won-goo asked it himself. He was wiping the blood from his hands with a wet towel.
"You want to ask what the Black Shelter is, don't you?"
"That's right."
Jeon Hye-ji answered.
"A shelter built by the people who couldn't get into one."
"Is that even possible? People like you, Director?"
"My case doesn't count. Think of it as a place where the ones even the shelters themselves wouldn't take in all gather."
"Oh..."
"Director Gong. This is the third time the Black Shelter has come up. At this point, shouldn't we assume that's where this trail leads?"
"It should."
"The Black Shelter isn't something to take lightly. You know that better than anyone, Director."
"Which is exactly why we catch him before he gets inside."
"And you have a plan in place for that?"
"Is there more than one way? We know the destination now—that just means we get there faster. Why do you think we're headed to the pathfinder office?"
"You're looking for the Black Shelter, and there are actually pathfinders who know the way?"
Jo Mu-sa interjected.
"More than a few, actually."
There were quite a few pathfinder offices in the shelter, but Won-goo headed straight for the one operating under the sign Geosan Tour.
"W-wait! Director Gong! Just a moment!"
The moment Won-goo's crew appeared in his office, Geosan shot to his feet in a cold sweat.
He was a man of above-average build with no particularly distinguishing features. Unless you counted the fact that his head was slightly on the large side.
"Ch-chill—"
"I know! I know already! I completely understand how you feel, Director Gong. Full cooperation. So please, I'm begging you... let's talk this out. With words!"
"Well..."
"Wh-what is it? If you speak calmly, I'll cooperate with any—"
"Goddammit! I'm TRYING to speak calmly and you keep cutting me off!"
"Uh... right, of course! So what are you looking for? And for the record, my office doesn't do business with Youngjae Pharmacy. We trade with that clinic down the street."
"Geosan."
"Yes?"
"Shut up for a second. Let me do the talking."
"Uh... okay."
"You've got a pathfinder here with a hook on his hand, don't you?"
"A hook? You mean Mr. Kim?"
"Don't care about the name. Is he here or not?"
"Well... he is, yes."
Won-goo set twenty silver coins down on the table.
"I'm busy, so I'm taking him with me. This enough to cover the association fees?"
"Uh... more than enough."
"But Director Gong... if you need a pathfinder, there are far better ones around. Mr. Kim's a total rookie. He's only ever guided freelancers through solo-hunter hunting grounds. He's not in your league."
"I know. I know... but I made him a promise."
"A promise?"
"Do you want to know more?"
"No. No, I don't. I'll go call him."
"No need. Send him to Sanghae's office. And don't tell him I sent for him."
A crease formed between Geosan's brows.
"You don't mean..."
"Mean what?"
"...A promise of the unpleasant kind?"
"If it were that kind of promise, why would I be handing you silver? I could just go grab the man myself."
"Oh..."
"Geosan."
"Yes?"
"There's a famous saying that was popular back before the end of the world."
"What is it?"
"Say nothing, and nothing will happen to you. Just send him over quietly."
In Sanghae's office, Mr. Kim stood as though frozen solid.
A baseball cap with shaggy hair spilling out from under it. Boots and military fatigues. A hook where his right hand should have been.
"Mr. Kim will do, right? Sit down. Get him a bowl of pork soup rice."
"Listen to him, offering up my food like it's his to give."
Sanghae grumbled under his breath.
"You earn plenty, and you're haggling over one bowl of gukbap? Mr. Kim. Sit down before I have to say it twice."
Mr. Kim took the seat across from Won-goo. The reason he sat was simple: he'd noticed the men blocking the entrance.
There's no way out.
Having settled that in his mind, Mr. Kim complied without resistance.
"Why did you call for—"
"Why do you think? To give you work."
Mr. Kim manufactured an awkward smile.
"I'm not the sort who handles big jobs. I'm merely..."
BANG!
Won-goo set his warhammer down on the table, bloodstains and all.
"Clinic hours ended today. I'm not in the mood for a follow-up treatment... though I could be persuaded, if you think you need one?"
"..."
"I called you here precisely so we could skip the uncomfortable small talk before getting down to business. Or was I wrong about that?"
"I don't know what kind of work you think I—"
"Drop the act. You know exactly why I called you. Where I need you to guide me."
"...Sir?"
"The Black Shelter. You're a pathfinder who specializes in the Black Shelters, aren't you?"
At that, Mr. Kim's expression turned to ice.
"S***..."
A voice that sounded like a low growl. The Mr. Kim sitting there now wore a face entirely different from the one he'd worn a moment ago.