The Drop
"Those bastards picked themselves a nice spot."
The hideout of the Six-Party Gang (provisional) was a mart. Smaller than a brand-name supermarket, but a bit bigger than your average neighborhood grocer—a food-supply mart.
A long row of container buildings stretched across a spacious parking lot. It wasn't enormous, but it was more than enough to house five hundred people.
After all, survivors had been known to live quite comfortably in parking lots.
"That used to be our territory, actually," said the pathfinder from the Queen's Gang who had guided them this far.
"How are the containers still standing? One big surge should've crushed every last one of them."
There was no such thing as a perfect safe zone in the Field.
Except for the Shelter, that is.
In the apocalypse's weather, even the sturdiest buildings could be ripped up root and branch. Container structures should have been crushed flat ages ago.
"……"
When the pathfinder just stood there dumbly instead of answering, Won-goo didn't press further.
"From here on out, we'll take over the job. Fall back and wait."
At that, the pathfinders descended the hill.
"Pacific."
"Yeah."
"Nothing known about the Queen's ability, right?"
"Nothing."
"Not even rumors?"
"Some people said it might be hypnosis of some kind. But it didn't feel like hypnosis to me."
"I think so too. You can tell just by looking at her people. That's not what brainwashed folks look like."
"You mean they call her Queen voluntarily?" Jeon Hye-ji asked.
"That's not out of the question. Right, Pacific?"
"What?"
"Roughly how many members does the Mosquito Gang have?"
"Can't say exactly. I've only traded with them a handful of times. But their numbers were pretty substantial—they were rated the strongest force in this whole area. You know the Mosquito Gang had a big reputation."
"I know. So you can't even give me a ballpark?"
"Minimum, over three hundred."
"And yet they had so little contact with the other factions around here?"
"Well… they kept it to the bare minimum. Barter and such? Usually when gangs talk, they end up sharing everything down to their internal affairs."
"Exactly. And then sometimes they turn on each other because of it."
"But the Mosquitoes weren't that type. They made no enemies and no allies."
"They drew a line?"
"Yeah. No idea why."
"The way I see it, it's because of the Queen's Gift," Won-goo said.
"……?"
"Could it be that the buildings are just suspiciously clean?"
"That's it."
"You're saying the Queen's Gift is some kind of homemaker thing?"
"Well… something like that. Three hundred isn't a pet's name. Keeping that many people alive out in the Field isn't easy, and yet they keep their buildings spotless like that? That's a Gift, no question about it."
"Which is why they banned contact beyond a certain line, too?"
"Right."
"Is the Queen's Gift really that important? Important enough to ban contact over?" Hye-ji asked.
"Living in the Shelter costs money. Alone, it's not that much of a burden. Even at our size, it's manageable. But once you cross into the hundreds, the costs stop being a joke. That's why Dr. Woo was so obsessed with buying that pharmacy—own a Shelter business, and you get tickets. The right to use the Shelter."
"A Gift that makes living outside the Shelter easier…"
"To survive in the Field, you have to overcome two things. One is the weather. The other is the monsters wandering the Field. Black Shelters solved that by establishing multiple spots and relocating at the right moments."
"Most gangs do that too, though. Everybody lives on the move."
"True. But a number like three hundred is a burden in every possible way. My theory is that the Queen has a Gift that solves exactly that. For instance…"
Won-goo turned his gaze toward the mart.
"For instance?"
"Something like a Gift that protects a designated zone. If that's what it is, then the Queen's cagey behavior suddenly makes perfect sense."
"Is it really a Gift worth hiding?" Hye-ji asked, and everyone nodded.
"Priority one for kidnapping, missy," Pacific said.
"It's Jeon Hye-ji. Not missy."
"Right. Jeon Hye-ji. A Gift like that is priority one for kidnapping."
"Pacific's right. It's the favorite kind of Gift for any organization with real size to it. Some groups would try to recruit them properly, but the vast majority just kidnap them outright. Turns out she's the owner of a far more impressive Gift than we thought, huh?"
"Nothing's confirmed yet."
"That's what I think it is. Even if it's not the Queen herself, someone in there definitely has an ability like that. That's why the mart's so spotless. Hyeon-sung."
"Yes, Boss."
"Get Chul-soo ready. Time to work."
"Yes, sir!"
Geum Chul-soo was strapped to Jeon Hye-ji's harpoon gun.
On top of that, he was also bound with Tail Dog's tail.
The key to this operation was how cleanly they could throw the Wabulgwi in—and retrieve it.
But it wasn't going to be easy by any stretch.
Testing the Wabulgwi had shown that the moment it emerged, it attacked anything it saw. In other words, even its capsule owner couldn't control it.
Which meant manual opening and closing was required. They had to open the capsule and close it by hand to send it out.
Dulla needed no such thing. The moment Chul-soo gave a mental command, it climbed back into the capsule on its own.
Assuming it was close enough to reach the capsule, that is.
But the Wabulgwi didn't obey commands, so the capsule had to be shut manually, without fail.
Which meant they couldn't just toss it like a grenade and run. For the operation to truly succeed, the Wabulgwi had to be called back inside the capsule at exactly the right moment.
And so the solution they landed on was simple: throw Geum Chul-soo instead of the capsule.
The prerequisite was getting within throwing range of Chul-soo first.
No matter how safe the approach, security was essential—and sure enough, the Six-Party Gang had stationed considerable guards all around.
The crew slipped in, careful to remain undetected.
At a suitable distance, Rafael approached Chul-soo.
"I'm counting on you, Rafael."
Rafael nodded once and hoisted Geum Chul-soo up with both hands.
Like a professional wrestler.
"Chul-soo. You can do this, right?"
"I can do it, sir."
"Go."
Rafael broke into a run and hurled Geum Chul-soo with everything she had toward the mart at the bottom of the hill.
Her strength had been further amplified through coin enhancement, so flinging a single Geum Chul-soo a long distance was effortless.
Flying through the darkness like a bullet, Geum Chul-soo knew exactly what he had to do.
Open the capsule and release the Wabulgwi.
As he closed in on the mart, Chul-soo quickly opened the capsule.
His body was still hurtling through the air.
By the time the Six-Party Gang's guards realized something was wrong, Chul-soo was already in range, capsule open.
Won-goo watched every second of it through A-One's Tinted Glasses and a telescope from the darkness.
The instant Chul-soo opened the capsule and the Wabulgwi hit the ground, he signaled the crew.
"Now!"
Wheeeerick!
The harpoon line wrapped around Geum Chul-soo's body reeled back in with a whine.
At the same time, the crew hauled on Tail Dog's Rope to pull Chul-soo back to safety as fast as possible.
Timing the pull correctly—so that Chul-soo wouldn't become the Wabulgwi's target—was everything.
Geum Chul-soo was yanked out of the air even faster than he'd been thrown.
"Good work."
Won-goo slapped the returned Chul-soo on the back.
The Six-Party Gang was a multinational outfit, and it was common for even members of the same gang to be unable to communicate with each other.
So when standing watch, guards were often grouped by nationality.
This shift, it was the Japanese members holding the perimeter.
Needless to say, the bigger a gang grew, the looser certain things inevitably became. A small group lets the head keep a tight grip on everything; once the numbers climb, that gets harder and harder.
And this was a brand-new gang, to boot—one cobbled together as a coalition of multiple gangs, no less. All the conditions for sloppy security were met, and the Six-Party Gang could hardly be called vigilant.
The sentries were already posted and half-asleep.
"Did you hear something?"
"Just the wind, probably."
"Sounded like something clicked."
"Quit talking nonsense and go do your patrol. You'll get an earful later."
Midway through the two guards' idle chatter at the mart entrance, the Wabulgwi burst out of the darkness.
At ferocious speed.
Wham!
A fist slammed into the face of the guard who'd told him to quit talking nonsense.
"Wha—kugh!"
He tried to shout, but couldn't.
The Wabulgwi had already extended its long arm and seized his face.
Then it snapped the guard's neck and hurled him into the mart.
Pure savagery, nothing less.
Won-goo's crew watched with great interest.
"It's inside the mart. Aigoo… look at that thing, that's brutal. It's a serial killer, plain and simple. Anyone it catches, it just kills on the spot."
"So this counts as the operation succeeding?"
"At this level? A resounding success. Let's see this estimate through."
Lights flared on in the mart, where a low grumble had been smoldering, and the crowd packed into the parking lot came boiling out of their tents.
Naturally, those inside the mart did the same.
Once the lights blazed to full brightness, the true face of the Six-Party Gang stood revealed. They'd expected a lot of people, but there were even more.
Easily a force of over five hundred.
"More than I expected. Can a gang that size even hold together?"
"Oh, they've got a way of holding it together."
"How?"
"Grinding the small fry into it. That's all it takes."
"Isn't that a Fishing Ground?"
"Somewhere between a Fishing Ground and a gang. But to pull that off, you need a hideout like this one. A base that basically functions as a Shelter."
"Director, the Wabulgwi fights way too well," Jo Mu-sa said as he watched the battle unfold.
With the lights bright, he could see it all clearly now.
"Of course it fights well. The Wabulgwi is no pushover. By grade, it ranks even higher than Taderson. The trash mobs are just getting mowed down."
"It won't finish them all off, will it?"
"That'll be difficult."
"Thought so."
"The Mosquito Gang had solid combat strength. If they took this place from them, the Six-Party Gang ought to handle at least this much."
Even as he said they'd manage, the Wabulgwi's massacre went on and on.
"Looks like we really caught them off guard."
"That's the weakness of every coalition—poor response to sudden situations. But… by now, the real ones should be coming out."
THUD!
Just then, a man leaped down from the mart's top floor.
A man wearing nothing but drawstring pants charged at the Wabulgwi without a moment's hesitation.
"Oh! Finally someone who can actually throw a punch!" Pacific said.
"Nope."
The pants-man rushed in boldly and drove his fist toward the Wabulgwi's face.
Right up until the moment he threw it, his expression had been full of fury—but the instant his fist connected, his face changed.
A mixture of disbelief and bewilderment.
He looked down at his own fist.
It was trembling. And the Wabulgwi wasn't stupid enough to ignore something that had just struck it—nor was it a berserker.
The Wabulgwi rampaged simply because it wanted to.
And when things got dangerous, it was perfectly capable of the most cowardly tricks.
The pants-man had no way to dodge the counterattack.
Wham!
The Wabulgwi threw a punch of its own.
A single blow and the pants-man's body crumpled.
Thump.
Then the Wabulgwi stomped on the back of the fallen man's head to make absolutely sure the job was done.
And it smiled, baring its white teeth.
At that, the nearby Six-Party Gang members began to flee.
"See that? Like I said—quality over quantity."