White Flag
Iil-chul rolled into the plaza in a wheelchair, wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy on wheels.
Then he started screaming.
"Dr. Woo is in cahoots with Cheonmok! He's got ties to Cheonmok, I'm telling you!"
Every eye in the plaza snapped toward the shrieking man in bandages. And remarkably, in that instant, all the noise simply died.
Iil-chul shouted even louder.
"Doctor! I do believe you ought to come on out here."
"What in the blazes is all this ruckus now?"
"Well, you see......"
The expression on Dr. Woo's face crumpled as he shoved aside the curtain and stepped out.
"Ain't that the sonuvabitch I beat half to death just days ago? Whasshisname—Ilshik or whatever."
"It's Iil-chul, boss."
"You got the holy hell stomped outta you and you came back? Goddamn it, boy...... you lot can't even handle a simple job right?"
"I made myself plenty clear, if I do say so. I do apologize. Want me to just take him out for good this time?"
"Tch. I built this pharmacy up with my own two hands, and you're spoutin' ugly talk like that? You get tangled up in somethin' and end up dragged off to who-knows-where, who's gonna answer for it? Every one of our folks' lives is ridin' on this place, ya hear?"
"Yes, sir......"
"Besides, that's exactly what that no-good Gong fellow wants. I could feed him to a grinder and it still wouldn't be enough for that bastard."
"Then what should I......"
"Drag him off and handle it. Just don't kill him. This time......"
Dr. Woo's words trailed off, and his eyes turned razor-sharp.
Iil-chul was still bellowing at the top of his lungs.
The Cheonmok business in particular struck a nerve—it was one of Dr. Woo's Achilles' heels.
"Haah...... sonuvabitch...... how the hell did he even find out about that......"
"Sir?"
"No, never mind. Go deal with him. Look at the sheer gall on that fella. Almost admires it myself—must be 'cause he's got balls. Go make him a woman while you're at it."
"Make him... a woman?"
"Can't even understand plain talk now?"
"Understood. Consider it done."
But Dr. Woo's men failed to drag Iil-chul away.
Because the beastman had taken up position even closer than before.
Crack.
A vein bulged on Dr. Woo's forehead at the sight.
Meanwhile, watching the whole spectacle from a distance, Won-goo clapped his hands with a low chuckle, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"Did you foresee this part as well?" Mu Beob-sa asked.
"You think that's possible? That Iil-chul bastard's just got guts to spare. You don't find his kind much anymore these days."
"That much is true. The kind that dies early, that is."
"Fair point, yeah? But having a lunatic like that on our side—that's the fun part. Dr. Woo won't be able to stomach this. Give it a day or two, tops."
"Dr. Woo is the most hot-blooded of the gangs in this area...... but would he really let even that slide? He might just tear the whole thing down."
"No question about it."
"Is that so?"
"What's that thing Respect is always saying? 'Respect,' right? It's his way of telling everyone he's a piece of trash with zero respect in him. So what does Dr. Woo keep saying over and over? Loyalty, family, all that jazz. And what does that tell you? He's a man with no loyalty whatsoever. All he knows is that word. A man like that dragged every last coin out of the village to build his pharmacy. You think he'd throw that away?"
"Then what about you, Director Gong? What is it you say all the time?"
"Me? I'm a physical therapist, aren't I? You ever actually seen me cure anything?"
Won-goo laughed, a dry, rasping sound.
"So why's everyone taking so long to get back?"
"They're over there."
Mu Beob-sa pointed to one side.
Walking toward them with visibly more confidence than before were Lee Hyun-sung, Suwon, Jo Mu-sa, Geum Chul-soo, and Jeon Hye-ji.
And confidence was well earned. A month of brutal hunting had given them a mountain of experience—and a mountain of coins on top of it.
Any one of them would have been swelling with pride.
"Everyone made their purchases, I take it?"
"Yes, Hyeong-nim!"
"Then we head back to the shop."
The biggest growth had come from Jeon Hye-ji and Geum Chul-soo.
"Hye-ji."
"Yes?"
"Why'd you burn through so many coins? You sure it's okay to blow your personal stash like that?"
"I figured holding onto them wouldn't mean much in the long run. It seemed smarter to invest now."
Won-goo was going over the crew's stat sheets. The rule of the Services was simple: the crew fronted the coins for ability purchases, and everyone brought back an itemized record of what they'd bought.
"Not a bad call, but...... from now on, you talk to me first. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Always consult first. Your spread looks well balanced, though."
"I'll be sure to."
With that, Won-goo tossed the crew's stat sheets into the fire.
"A month of tight, ugly hunting—that's what got us these results, so you all know the drill. But dungeons run even more dangerous than the hunting trips we just came back from. Everyone keeps their head on a swivel."
"Yes, sir!"
"Then we're disbanded for now. Chul-soo and Hye-ji, you two stay."
"Hyeong-nim."
"What?"
"What's the schedule look like?"
"Getting Hye-ji and Chul-soo fitted for gear. Suwon's already set, and Jo Mu-sa picked something up on the hunt. Why?"
"I thought it might not be a bad idea to tag along."
"What, nobody wants to relax? Fine then, come along, all of you."
Mu Beob-sa had long since vanished, and the rest of the crew fell in behind Won-goo.
The place Won-goo led them to this time was different from the weapon mart they usually frequented—it was far shabbier. The peculiar thing was that, unlike the mart, nothing was on display inside.
The shop's name was Class.
The sign was so tiny you'd miss the name entirely unless you looked hard.
"Well, if it ain't Director Gong. Been a while."
"So it has."
The shopkeeper was a middle-aged man with a truly spectacular case of forward head posture. Which made sense—right up until the moment Won-goo's crew walked in, he'd been hunched over a book, head buried.
"Your name's been floating around now and then, so I figured you were doing well for yourself. Here to browse?"
"That I am."
"Drop by more often. Been getting some real good stock in lately."
"Your stock's expensive."
"Expensive it may be—but our goods are a class apart, aren't they. A class."
"Then let's take a look at some of that class-apart stock."
"What're you after?"
"Let's start with a high-bar. Something seriously sturdy."
"What kind?"
"So long as it's tough, anything will do."
"Tough? I got plenty of tough. But out on the Field, visibility matters a hell of a lot too. Ah—this for the body-shield type, is it?"
With that, the shopkeeper—Class—pulled up a catalogue.
What he showed them was a helmet.
A rider's helmet.
"Of everything in my shop, this here's the toughest. No joke—this thing's got strength enough you could fight with your bare head and walk away. Only catch is it's got not one single visibility feature. Feels like wearing a coffin on your face."
"Forward vision only, eh?"
"Hell, forward vision's pushing it."
"Looks simple enough in features—must be on the cheaper side, at least. Show me."
"Show you? You know the rule—look means buy, right?"
"Ah, for f—! You're running the junk-scam on me just because it's been a while? Save that rookie-baiting con for the newbies."
"Kuk kuk. Just having a little fun. Who around here would even try to scam Director Gong?"
With that, the shopkeeper pulled the item straight out of the catalogue and handed it over.
The crew stared at the feat with wide-eyed wonder.
A storage-related Gift. You could argue it ran in the same family as Won-goo's own Gift, but its versatility was in a league entirely of its own.
"How's it fit, Chul-soo?"
Won-goo planted the helmet directly onto Geum Chul-soo's head.
"It's cramped."
"Of course it's cramped. You thought you'd be strolling around in a hat? The trade-off is your skull stays attached to your neck—that's what makes it a good deal. Can you see?"
"Not really."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Then we're good."
Poor visibility was a serious flaw in combat.
But for the path Geum Chul-soo had chosen, it hardly mattered at all.
The moment he took control of Dulla, his vision shifted entirely to the summon's perspective. The helmet changed nothing.
So Won-goo fitted him out—helmet and armor alike—in the most brutally solid gear he could find. He deliberately chose the pieces ordinary survivors avoided for their lousy mobility, and the result was a Geum Chul-soo who would be damned hard to kill under almost any circumstances.
For Jeon Hye-ji, who had suddenly gorged on coins and grown so fast, he bought a whole arsenal to match.
A crossbow, a spread of throwing daggers,
and even a collapsible spear on top.
In exchange, Won-goo took the gun Hye-ji had been carrying for himself.
"Hye-ji—and the rest of you—don't sulk about Chul-soo getting first pick. Everyone's turn comes around."
"That's not what we're thinking, Hyeong-nim."
The others nodded along in agreement.
"Good to hear. Then let's head back—the expedition team should be returning before long."
Someone was waiting outside the Trainer's shop.
None other than Dr. Woo, with his entire entourage in tow.
His face was far from pleasant. The moment he spotted Won-goo, he yanked his chin up and glared daggers.
Won-goo, by contrast, was the picture of ease—more relaxed than ever before.
And he had every reason to be.
A great deal had changed in the past month. Before, the crew had been greenhorns, their skills nowhere near polished into shape. Now, every last one of them had grown properly accustomed to combat.
It meant Won-goo no longer needed to micromanage every detail.
Above all—there was now a gun in Won-goo's hand.
A gun with far more versatile functions than the one Hye-ji had used.
Won-goo strode forward in long, unhurried steps, the very image of a man who wouldn't mind a fight breaking out on the spot.
"And just what do you think you're doing, camped outside another man's door?"
"Let's go inside and have ourselves a little chat."
"Did you come to talk it out? Or to see it through to the bitter end? If it's the latter, what's the point of dragging it out? I'm ready right now."
Dr. Woo fixed Won-goo with a long, hard stare. A few seconds passed in silence before the old man finally opened his mouth.
"Seeing as you came to talk it out and all......"
Psst.
The corner of Won-goo's mouth curled upward.
"Well then, we ought to treat you like a proper guest. Shall we?"
Geum Chul-soo snapped forward and held the door open, and the crew filed in with Won-goo at their head.
"You lot wait out here."
"Excuse me? With all due respect—"
"You wait when I say wait, boy. Don't make me say it twice."
"...Understood."
Dr. Woo stepped into the Trainer's shop and swept his eyes around the place.
"Not to my taste. This is the Trainer's style—him who came in before me. First time seeing his shop, is it?"
"First time, yes. We don't deal in pets, you see."
"Somebody fetch us a drink. You're in luck today, Dr. Woo—the market entrance permit came through a while back, so we've got real food and drink again. How about it? Can coffee do?"
"A cold one'd be much obliged. Liquor'd be better, mind."
"Liquor's too fast. Depends on how this conversation goes."
"You gonna keep needling me to the very end, is that it? A man walks in here alone, by his own two feet—that's as good as hoisting the white flag, ain't it? Cut me some slack, Director Gong."
"Hard not to, after watching you pinch every penny like the skinflint of a master you've been this whole while."
"Don't look at me like that, I'm begging you. I got a whole truckload of mouths to feed back home."
"So what's your proposition?"
"The terms I offered before...... I'll take them."
"Why the sudden change of heart? The situation's come a long way since then. If a few pretty words could've settled this, you should've come a long time ago."
Won-goo was still smiling.
But his eyes stayed razor-sharp, unwavering, all the way through.