The Queen's Commission
"Relax a little, Director Gong."
"Relax? You think I look like I'm in a position to relax? You're telling me you can't even guarantee me two weeks of downtime before you come knocking again? What the shit."
"I can't exactly not deliver the message. And if I didn't pass this one along, you'd really have my hide over it later."
"……"
He had no comeback, because the man had a point.
Won-goo had built and run his Services with his reputation kept carefully in mind. Turning your back on someone after they'd helped you was a serious mark against it.
It wasn't quite the level of taking a contract and then breaking it. But it wasn't far off either.
"So what's the job?"
"You know a lot of new faces have been settling in around Damseok Mountain lately, right?"
"And?"
"Right. Part of it's the fallout from Ganjeol Point, part of it's the Arctic Giant. Survivors always migrate wherever there's money to be made."
"So? Get to the point. What happened?"
"The Queen's Gang just took a major defeat."
"Wasn't that whole area under the Queen Clan's control?"
"It was, but…… the Mosquito side has always been insular. Closed off."
"The small gangs banded together?"
"That's why they got pushed back. And in the process, Band — basically the Queen's right hand — got cut down. You knew Band, didn't you?"
Tic.
Won-goo froze for an instant. He'd been in the middle of lighting a cigarette.
"He's dead?"
A nod.
Sanghae answered only with a quiet dip of his head.
"Yeah. That'd explain why you came running to me in such a hurry."
"Exactly?"
"So what do you want me to do? An eye for an eye? A tooth for a tooth?"
"Something like that. The situation's simple."
"Ha…… The situation's simple, but the whole thing leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
"This time the justification sits with the Queen's side, so it won't so much as dent your reputation."
"Whether the justification actually sits with her is something I'll judge for myself when I get there. Everyone talks in the way that favors them best."
"You're not going to refuse anyway. Not when you owe them."
"That's true enough."
"And this one's not free. The figure's substantial."
"I don't care how big the number is — a dirty job is a dirty job. Getting dragged into someone else's family feud is the thing I hate most, and you know it."
Sanghae couldn't argue with that. Won-goo was an expert at manufacturing his own incidents and handling them end to end.
Stepping into a conflict that had already broken out without him — that he didn't care for at all.
If it were a monster problem, fine. But this meant taking out fellow survivors. Sure, anything could happen out in the Field, but that didn't make it pleasant.
More than anything, Won-goo was the kind of man who avoided killing survivors wherever he could, drawing a hard, clean line by living as a service agency rather than a gang. He could have lived as a gang boss if he'd wanted to — God knows the option was there.
His trailer offered a quality of life outside the shelters that few could match.
More coins. More items.
Running a gang rather than a service outfit would obviously have opened more doors, more opportunities.
And yet he refused that road, because he knew it meant hitting a hard ceiling — one that could crush him the moment he touched it.
Besides, if Won-goo had lived that way, a few of the people he now called family would never have joined him at all.
That, he could not allow.
Every one of them had been gathered for a reason.
"Then I'll take that as a yes and let her know?"
"Fine. Where's the meet?"
"Head for Shelter Bed. They'll be waiting there."
A nod.
Won-goo nodded, and as Sanghae left, irritation crept up his spine at the thought of having to gather the crew all over again.
"Sorry, everyone. Things keep tangling up on us."
The trailer was pulling out of the shelter. Seokbong and the other pathfinders led the way, ranging ahead of the convoy.
Nobody's expression was particularly good.
If the situation grated on Won-goo's nerves, it stood to reason it grated on theirs too.
But the matter was urgent, so Won-goo had rounded everyone up and loaded them straight into the trailer. From the moment the crew filed into the office to the moment they were fully kitted out for the Field, it took less than ten minutes.
By now they moved like a machine.
"What's the job this time?"
"The Mosquito Gang called for help."
"Can't be helped, then."
"You think I'd call everyone out for something small? They helped us when it counted, so there's nothing to be done about it."
"Exactly how urgent is this?"
Pacific asked, rocking his wheelchair idly. He still had IV lines dangling off him like tinsel.
The difference now was the life in his face — far more color than back when the curse had left him unable to walk at all. His condition had genuinely improved, and he'd put on weight.
Coin enhancement or not, the human habit was to atrophy what you didn't use. Pacific's legs had wasted away badly before, and now flesh and muscle were finally returning to them.
Naturally, his weight was climbing with them.
Little by little, Pacific was recovering the man who used to sprint on two legs.
"The situation's simple. It's a gang dispute, and we're going in to resolve it."
"So we're mercenaries."
"That's right. Mercenaries. Not the kind of work we enjoy, but work that needs doing. In exchange, once this is over, we stop at a different shelter on the way home."
At first the crew didn't catch what he meant by another shelter. Then it hit them all at once.
"Now that's a perk I can get behind, Director."
Jo Mu-sa reacted first, and the rest of the crew cheered just as loudly.
Of course they did. A glimpse of open space and the stars beyond it — that wasn't an experience money could buy anywhere on this ruined Earth.
More than anything, civilization on the planet had collapsed to almost nothing. The shelters preserved what little was left, but even that was nothing next to the old world.
Won-goo's Temporary Shelter, on the other hand, had facilities that actually surpassed the old civilization.
And what really made the crew whoop was something only available there.
Entertainment.
At Won-goo's shelter you could listen to music, watch movies and dramas. Shelter life was starved for any kind of pleasure, so stepping into the Temporary Shelter scrambled people's brains. It was only natural.
The moment word spread that they were stopping there, everyone's faces brightened again.
They arrived at Bed.
"Seokbong. How long can you hold position here for me? You've been busy lately, no?"
"Busy or not, your work comes first, Director."
"Be straight with me. How long can you wait?"
"One week. Beyond that would be difficult."
"Then I'll pay you twenty silver coins a day — shelter fee, lodging, food, waiting costs, all folded in. How's that?"
"Oh. Nice."
"I'd pay more, but I've got other pathfinders to look after too. If it runs past a week, head back on your own."
"Including the pathfinders I brought, that's a fair bit of coin, you know."
"This much is nothing."
"I only meant there are plenty of pathfinders here too."
Suwon had been to Bed a few times himself. Getting back without a pathfinder wasn't impossible.
Even so, the reason Won-goo always traveled with them was simple: insurance against whatever unexpected situation might crop up.
Short of something like the earthquake last time, the broad strokes of a route wouldn't change — but there was no telling when or where a surprise would rear its head.
And preparing for exactly that was what pathfinders were for.
"I know. But I prioritize skill, you know that."
"We'll rest up well, then."
"You do that."
As Seokbong turned to go, he quietly carved into his heart the fact that Won-goo was looking out for him.
After seeing him off, they headed for the designated meeting point, where a small group was already waiting. A young woman stepped forward from among them.
Round eyes, a face that put one in mind of a sloth.
"Are you Director Gong?"
Won-goo nodded.
"Her Majesty the Queen is waiting for you."
Escorted along, they were led to the Queen — and understood at once why people called her that, and why they followed her.
She was beautiful. Not merely pretty — she had the face of an idol.
Tall. Slender to the point of gauntness.
The impression she gave was of a single lean cat. She looked so thin it seemed there was nothing but bone, and yet every curve of her figure remained intact.
Had the apocalypse never come, that face could have made a genuine idol or actress. The camera would only have loved her more than reality did.
"Director Gong? I'm the one who leads these people."
She extended a hand. Her arms, too, were unusually long.
"Gong Won-goo. I don't do handshakes."
"……?"
"Got my hand badly busted in a handshake once. That's why I don't do them, so don't take it personal."
"Ah. I see."
Her voice was crisp and resonant.
"I heard about Band. My condolences. Only met him a few times, but he didn't seem a bad sort."
The Queen answered with nothing but a smile and a nod. Her eyes stayed locked on Won-goo's the whole time.
He didn't bother looking away.
"Now, if we could get to the business. What is it you need from me?"
At that, the Queen laid out her current circumstances.
It was exactly the style of briefing Won-goo loved. Just the essentials, quick and clean.
"A multi-national coalition, you say?"
"They swallowed up the gangs that used to operate here in one go and ballooned overnight."
"Multi-national, huh…… so who's mixed in? Chinese?"
"Going by language alone, we've confirmed Chinese, Japanese, and English at minimum. And a few languages we couldn't identify at all — probably Russian."
"What the…… the Six-Party Talks?"
"They may be using English precisely because they can't communicate among themselves. We haven't been able to establish how or why they came pouring into this area."
"Well, there'd be a hundred stories there. But here's what matters — you don't know their numbers, you don't know who's running the show, and you don't know what Gift-users they have. Am I wrong?"
"……"
Cut to the quick, the Queen shut her mouth fast.
She hadn't originally been such a cautious character. These days, though, she had no choice but to be careful.
She was, after all, in the middle of making an outrageous request of Gong Won-goo — the finest service agency in the entire region.
"It's embarrassing, frankly. Everything happened so suddenly."
"That's how incidents always are. So — you admit this is more complicated than you expected?"
"I do."
"Then here's my price: taking this job wipes out everything you owed me up to now. All squared."
"……That would settle it?"
"You do have a conscience."
Even though he'd set terms with his palm open and flat, the Queen only laughed. The situation was far messier than she'd anticipated. If Won-goo had turned and walked away right then, she couldn't have said a word.
"We even tried mediation. It didn't work."
"You attempted mediation?"
"Their terms amounted to come in as our slaves."
"Apparently this region looked nice and soft to them."
He did not add that the Mosquito Gang's own reputation had helped paint that picture.
"So — taking this job clears all debts between us. We'll settle the rest as the work proceeds. Sounds like we'll need to draw up an estimate first. Let's go."
"Where?"
"To draw up the estimate. You know almost nothing about them, after all."
"Right now?"
"Just guide me, just guide. I'll handle the estimating myself."
Guided by one of the Queen's Gang's own pathfinders, they moved toward the Six-Party Gang's hideout.
On the way, darkness was settling in thick and heavy — perfect timing.
"If it would just rain on top of this, it'd be perfect. Chul-soo. Any word on rain?"
"No rain in the forecast, Director."
"Shame."
"Director Gong — is it really all right to just barge in like this, no plan at all?"
"We don't know a single thing about them. So we go find out the direct way."
"Shouldn't we at least call in Fresh or Montage's crews first?"
"You call for backup once you've got some kind of estimate in hand. Call anyone now, in this state, and all you'll get is insults."
"Will it really be all right? Even at a glance they look like they number over two hundred."
Jo Mu-sa chimed in, worry plainly written on his face.
"We've reinforced our combat strength recently. And this case is a simple one — the gang just got too big, so all we have to do is shrink it. Then there's nothing complicated left. All we need to figure out is what's actually dangerous."
"And what part of our strength did we reinforce, exactly?"
"What do you mean, what part? We've got the Wabulgwi, don't we? The Wabulgwi. With our very own Capsule King Chul-soo on the roster, what is there to worry about?"
"Me? Capsule King?"
"You can't control the thing, can you."
"I know I can't control it. That's exactly what makes it perfect for taking an estimate. Drop it in, and we pull out. Let's give it a shot — see what kind of abilities it shakes loose from the Wabulgwi."
Won-goo was grinning, bright as a child.