The Beastman Question
I Became an Apocalyptic "Physical" Therapist (173)
Beastman
"Sapiens? Why him?"
"Before that—did you and Yeongyeong have a complete falling-out?"
"No. We agreed to regroup once she recovers."
"Then you just have to hold out until then?"
"That's about the size of it."
"You're sure she's coming back?"
"Yeah. Certain. Our teamwork was pretty good. Yeongyeong's skilled too. The synergy isn't bad at all."
"It's true that teaming up with a skilled Ttangkkun pays off."
"Exactly."
"So her joining you is really happening, then?"
"I said it's real. Why do you keep asking?"
"I wondered if you pulled some confession attack and drove her away."
"Tch. No, I didn't!"
"If you say so."
"I really didn't."
"Whatever you say."
"Ttaeng-gu. You don't believe me right now, do you?"
"I'm a certified love-case expert. And the way you looked at Yeongyeong was not the look of a casual coworker."
"Oh, for the love of…"
The corners of Fresh's mouth curled upward.
"It wasn't the eyes of a male swimming in lust, you see—it was love rising from somewhere much deeper. The real thing."
Smack!
Fresh hurled the capsule sitting on the table at Won-goo with his good hand.
Won-goo didn't so much as blink. A slight tilt of his neck, and the capsule sailed harmlessly past.
It hit the far wall and clattered to the floor.
"Don't be an ass and let's finish the Sapiens story. Yeongyeong is coming back. I still check in with her regularly."
"Good enough. Anyway, Sapiens actually requested a consultation from me a while back."
"A consultation? About what?"
"Well, you see…"
"Hold on, Director Gong."
"What? You're the one who asked for an explanation."
"Hyeong-nim!"
Lee Hyun-sung bellowed at the top of his lungs. Fresh did the same.
The reason: Wabulgwi had appeared behind them and was charging straight at Won-goo.
CRUNCH!
The table exploded under Wabulgwi's assault.
"Son of a—!"
Won-goo and Fresh, both blessed with sharp instincts, dodged instantly. Won-goo rolled forward out of the way, while Fresh backflipped clear. Even wrapped in bandages, his movements were flawless.
Then Lee Hyun-sung snatched the fallen capsule off the floor and shut it. Wabulgwi vanished back inside at once.
"Damn it… I nearly died."
"I thought the arm I reattached was about to fly off again. You scared me half to death."
"Anyway, what Sapiens requested was…"
Once Won-goo confirmed Wabulgwi had retreated into the capsule, he dropped the matter entirely.
And then he laid out the situation with Sapiens, step by careful step.
"A syndicate has its own troubles. Operating inside the Shelter isn't easy either."
"Of course it isn't. You can't stay cooped up in the Shelter forever. The survivors out running the Field keep getting stronger—if you just sit inside the whole time, how long do you think that lasts?"
"Fair point…"
"And that bastard Sapiens runs his business on Beastfolk too, so if his people get culled, he's in even worse shape."
"So the conclusion is: he wants to rent out his syndicate's rising stars to you and have you raise them. That about right?"
"Not a bad way to put it. It works in your favor too. They came out of his organization, so they'll follow your orders to the letter. Which means they might just outlive their expiration date."
"Hmm…"
"And it's not like the rising stars will only learn from you. You'll be learning too."
"…?"
"You're planning to bring them into the family eventually, aren't you?"
"So I'd be stockpiling useful knowledge for later?"
"Exactly. And Sapiens isn't asking you to do it for free. I'd call it a solid offer."
"You said this offer came to you first, Director Ttaeng. Why didn't you take it?"
"We're already a finished product. Scattering half-baked new recruits into the mix would only drag us down. So I told Sapiens I'd take just a handful—one or two with truly exceptional Gifts."
"So what you're saying is, since I'm on my own, even a standard enhancement type is fine."
"That's the idea."
"Nothing to lose, then. Set up a spot for me."
Won-goo nodded his agreement.
"But you're paying for that table before you leave."
"Pah!"
Fresh spat theatrically into the air.
Won-goo tried to arrange a meeting with Sapiens right away, but it couldn't be done.
Sapiens was out making the rounds of his establishments, and it would take roughly two hours before he was free.
So Won-goo took Fresh to Gombang's old workshop at Jeonghyeon instead.
"We've met before. Nod wrong and I'll actually hit you this time."
"Good… to see you again, sir."
"Right, introductions done. Which piece here is your best work?"
Gombang had already produced a considerable stack of finished items.
And yet the pile of work still waiting to be done was a mountain in its own right.
That was thanks to the sheer volume of toxic inventory Pacific had been hauling around.
"The pieces over here qualify as mid-grade."
"Nothing with special functions attached or anything like that?"
"Nothing like that yet. It takes top-grade before that starts appearing."
If Gombang could sustain enhancements strong enough to attach actual options to gear, his value would have been several times higher than this. But his skill simply hadn't reached that level yet.
Then Gombang pointed at one particular weapon.
"That one got a very slight function added."
"You're saying it has an option?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to call it an option."
The weapon Gombang indicated was a pair of nunchaku.
"Nunchaku… crack your skull wide open if you don't know how to handle them."
"I know how."
"Oh, do you now?"
"Yeah. I trained at a hapkido dojang for years."
"Hapkido?"
"Yep. Third dan. Not that I ever went pro or anything. But I always liked nunchaku—mess around with them plenty back in the day."
Fresh picked up one of the nunchaku with a single arm.
Won-goo immediately backed away to a safe distance.
When someone picks up nunchaku, the smart move is to get out of the splash zone.
WHISH-WHISH-WHACK!
Fresh spun the nunchaku with one hand, smooth and practiced.
Clap, clap, clap.
Won-goo gave him a light round of applause.
"So what's this function you mentioned?"
Fresh asked, and Gombang, wearing an expression of monumental annoyance, mimed twisting the handle.
"Ttaeng-gu. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Twist it, probably. Go on, give it a twist."
Nunchaku were, by nature, a weapon under a meter in length—a closer-quarters tool than most people assumed.
But when Fresh twisted the handle, the chain connecting the two sticks ratcheted outward with a metallic click, extending.
"Oh! It stretches."
WHISH-WHACK!
Fresh spun the slightly lengthened nunchaku again. With more centrifugal force behind it now, they seemed to move even better than before.
Zip.
This time he swung them while twisting the handle, and the chain extended a little further still.
"Oh… this thing is the real deal. How do I wind it back up?"
"Are you an idiot? Turn it the other way and it retracts."
"Oh!"
"All you've got is 'oh.' Hey, Gombang. The other handle works the same way, right?"
"That's correct."
"How many times can it extend?"
At Fresh's question, Gombang held up an open palm with a bored look—five times.
Each extension added roughly fifteen centimeters per side, so combined, the weapon could stretch a considerable distance.
The nature of nunchaku made it hard to judge their true reach because of the rotational momentum—exploit that, and this became a genuinely nasty weapon to face.
Melee weapons in general grew trickier to fight against the more complex their construction, since complexity bred unpredictability.
And yet out in the Field, the weapons you saw most often were dead-simple bludgeons and the like. The reason was durability.
Out there, nothing mattered more. Meet a monster like Wabulgwi with shabby gear, and you could die on the spot.
Nunchaku-style weapons were structurally ill-suited to escaping that durability problem.
On top of that, they were punishing to wield without real skill.
Anyone could learn to spin nunchaku standing still with enough practice—but handling them with true fluency in live combat demanded an enormous amount of drilling.
Even Fresh, right now, would need to sink serious hours into that pair before he could truly make it sing.
"Ttaeng. I'm taking this one."
"You're not even calling me Director anymore?"
"Who cares. I genuinely love this thing. Deal's done."
"You didn't even test its durability?"
"I watched the Miracle of the Monkey Wrench with my own two eyes. What is there to doubt? Hey—it doesn't snap easy, right?"
Gombang nodded, the bored expression never leaving his face.
Every line of it screamed please just leave already.
Oblivious or indifferent, the smile never once left Fresh's lips.
"If word gets out you traded that capsule away for this thing, people are going to say you took a bullet to the head."
"What good is hoarding something I can't even use? I'm happy with this. Call it square."
"Next time something good comes through, pass it my way, and we'll settle things clean."
"This is already more than enough, no?"
"No?"
"Suits me fine."
"Clean accounting is what keeps the fallout away. Gombang—your hyung's heading out."
"Yes, sir. Safe travels."
Gombang rose at once and bowed them out.
Sapiens and Fresh signed the contract on the spot.
Fresh would take the rising stars out into the Field and drill experience and hard-won know-how into them, while Sapiens promised the corresponding payment and support.
Sapiens was also hunting for promising candidates to send to Won-goo, though he grumbled that it was no easy task.
"You think rare Gifts grow on trees? It's not exactly common, is it?"
"Still. I run the biggest organization in Sabaoth, for what it's worth—I never dreamed the pickings would be this thin."
"The world doesn't just drop things into your open mouth for free. Parental love, maybe? Everything else has a price. Don't try to freeload off the universe."
"I've been running the radar wider lately anyway. Spending plenty on it too. But, Hyeong-nim."
"What?"
"What do you think about Beastfolk?"
"Beastfolk? What about them? They're strong. Their raw specs sit above humans'. Some bloodlines are remarkably dim between the ears, but as a rule they're all strong. Don't tell me you picked a fight with a Beastman?"
"Hyeong-nim! My main business is catering to Beastfolk—why on earth would I pick a fight with them?"
"Then what? What are we even talking about? Lead with the point. The point first."
"Director Gong! I'm heading out early if this is going to run long!"
Fresh, contract concluded and loitering outside the office, hollered through the door.
"Yeah, yeah. Get lost, then!"
Fresh chugged the rest of his drink and vanished.
"No, what I'm asking is—what if we raise a Beastman?"
Won-goo's languid eyes went wide.
The Beastfolk were the species that had won the bidding for this Earth's apocalypse Shelter.
In short: a race that belonged to the Galactic Oversight and had been granted the authority to administer the Shelter.
Which meant those Beastfolk could come calling at the Shelter as guests.
But raising a Beastman?
It wasn't impossible.
As the apocalypse ran its course, Beastfolk did occasionally join survivor parties.
But not now. It wasn't yet the season for Beastfolk to emerge into the Field.
"Raising a Beastman? Are you saying one of them joined your crew?"
"Somehow, yes. That's how it worked out."
"Ha… you're joking, right?"
"Why would I joke to you, Hyeong-nim?"
"Somehow? Well, it's clearly not one of the Shelter staff. It came visiting and wandered into your organization, did it?"
"That part's… a bit complicated."
"Forget it! First question first. Did you get a contract in writing?"
"Naturally."