The Estimate
"What are the victims' characteristics?"
"Brain and internal organs."
"That's all it eats?"
"Yeah. It doesn't touch anything else. When you glance at how cleanly it hollows them out, you'd almost think you were looking at an intact corpse."
"That alone makes it hard to narrow down the culprit, though..."
"True. Plenty of monsters share those traits. The one slightly unusual thing is that it attacks from behind, I guess?"
"It slices them open from behind and scoops out the brain and organs?"
"Yup."
"Gruesome."
"And since those traces are spreading, the area around Damseok Mountain is on high alert. What do you think, Director Gong? Any idea what kind it is?"
"What am I, a monster encyclopedia? I don't know everything."
"Still, you know a lot. You've got the experience."
"All I can say is, I can't tell from this alone. It eats brains and organs — that sounds like an individual trait of one monster, but it might not be."
At that, Fresh's expression hardened.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Most monsters run on pure instinct. But there are some that have actual intelligence. And the smart ones develop their own methods. They hunt a certain way, find that it works, that it's low-risk — and so they refine the approach. Which means even a monster that isn't the brain-and-organ type could be out there doing exactly this."
Fresh's face went stiff at the explanation, a stark contrast to the easy grin he'd walked in with.
"This is driving me crazy. The problem just got more complicated?"
"But it is a monster, right?"
"That much is certain. We brought in an information broker."
"And all you got was this? Why didn't you hire some high-grade talent?"
"You think I'm the type to skimp on money for that?"
"Fair. That's not your style."
"We took three brokers. None of them could pull anything."
Information brokers came in many types, but most of them had the ability to extract information from a particular domain. Just as Yang Jin-seon of the Yang Sisters could map out a dungeon's interior simply by lingering inside it, brokers could uncover the secrets of any special zone they entered.
"So they couldn't extract anything at all? Or they just couldn't find any traces?"
"They couldn't even get a foothold."
"Then this thing ranks above most brokers... That's strange, isn't it?"
"It is."
"No — that's not what I meant. If Damseok Mountain held a monster that strong..."
Gong Won-goo let the sentence trail off. Then, quietly furrowing his brow, he stared straight at Fresh.
"It's gone Named, hasn't it?"
"Probably."
"That makes it a much nastier case."
Just as survivors grew stronger by injecting coins, monsters grew stronger too. Some awakened after killing countless survivors, while others were set up as growth-types from the very start.
"If it's eating even information brokers... you'd have needed someone with a sharp eye. Are you sure there's really nothing?"
"What we found was its size. Roughly three meters, armed with extremely sharp weapons. And its stride is enormous — it practically moves by leaping."
"Ha! Even hearing that much secondhand, I could've figured that out. Did you come here to mess with me?"
"That's not why I came to you, Director. I'm fucking going out of my mind. I don't ask favors like this lightly, you know that."
"No wonder it felt so damn... so damn good to see you walk in."
Won-goo's gaze slid sideways to the honey. Most monster meat tasted worse than ordinary ingredients, and some of it was so toxic that eating it could devastate even a survivor. But then there were cases like the King Giant hornet — flavors that left ordinary food in the dust.
"Even if you don't take the job, I'm not taking that back. Director Gong, I'm Fresh. When I work, I work clean. I don't play dirty games."
"And if I refuse this job?"
"We wipe our hands of it. Reputation matters, sure, but I don't exactly want to die."
"And you'd drag my people into something like that?"
"You should hear the whole story first."
"......?"
"Go, take a look. If even you come back with no answer, say so — and we'll both walk away clean."
"And if there is an answer?"
"Then we hunt it."
"What's the split?"
"I've already sunk a lot of money into this. Whatever I've spent, I want guaranteed back first."
"And the rest we split by results?"
"You think something like that would ever be a problem between us? If it makes you feel secure, do it that way."
"......"
"Need time to think? You know where I kill my hours these days. Give me your answer before I leave."
Fresh rose from his seat.
"I'm taking that."
Won-goo pointed at the honey.
"Just leave it."
"Take it with you."
"Fine. Give me your answer."
And with the honey in hand, Fresh walked out.
"What a waste of that honey."
Mu Beob-sa — the crew member with the least interest in food of any of them — was practically drooling.
"Is that stuff really so special?"
"It's delicious. The kind of delicious that haunts you after one taste. You just pour hot water over it and drink it as tea — that's all there is to it. The aroma is out of this world. So, Director Gong. Are you taking the job?"
"Ah... it sounds like a complicated affair, is the thing. Fresh isn't a guy who toys around with work, so I'm not too worried, but..."
"I take it this Fresh has a good reputation?"
It was Jeon Hye-ji's question.
"His skill is middle-of-the-pack even among Named? Judging by coins, he's probably swallowed forty-five of them or so. Hard to say how much stronger he's gotten since. An ordinary type, really."
"An ordinary type..."
"Put another way, it means there's almost nothing he can't do. Fresh doesn't have any other particular strengths. He's a veteran, and he's smart. That's why his reputation is good. This whole request is about reputation too. So all of you, give me your thoughts. The time to take on jobs has come — but we don't need to start with the ugliest one on the shelf."
"Director. He said we could just go and verify first... didn't he?"
Geum Chul-soo raised his hand and spoke.
"Right. We check things out, and if there's no answer, we walk. We can write the contract that way and go."
"Then going just to look wouldn't hurt—"
"The moment you go check, the odds you'll end up doing the job go way up. That's just human nature. Why do you think Fresh hauled that priceless honey all the way here? He knows exactly what he's doing. Once we've set foot on that mountain, the chance of us joining skyrockets. It's rat poison, that stuff."
And so the crew took the poison anyway.
"We're going to get an estimate. An estimate. Don't think about anything else."
Won-goo laid down the line with Fresh one more time.
"Got it. I said I got it. That's our Director Gong for you."
The crew gathered their gear and left the Shelter, Fresh leading the way.
The Trailer rolled out, and ahead of it ran a truck driven by Fresh himself.
Most survivors got around on motorcycles — easy to hide, and good for crossing rough terrain.
Fresh, unusually, drove a truck.
"When you travel solo, your most vulnerable moment is sleeping out in the Field. That's why the Named each prepare in their own way."
With the Trailer, Won-goo's crew never felt that danger keenly — but other survivors did. Fresh was one of those who used his truck to rig traps and cover that exact weakness.
Damseok Mountain didn't take long to reach. It was farther off than Cheonchu Mountain, of course, but the pathfinder Fresh had brought along navigated the route to Damseok with such uncanny skill that they arrived in no time.
"This is it?"
"From here on, we go on foot."
"We can drive farther, though?"
"I can't."
"Everyone, grab your gear and get out."
At Won-goo's word, the crew piled quickly out of the Trailer.
"Geum Chul-soo, Jo Mu-sa — you two old-timers hold this position."
"Actually, shouldn't I be the one staying?"
Jeon Hye-ji stepped forward.
"Hye-ji. I need your eye out there. You might spot something worth salvaging. Jo Mu-sa, you're good with that?"
"Yes, sir!"
"We're not going to gawk at corpses. We're getting an estimate — so nobody get worked up."
Following Fresh's lead, they headed into the monster's territory.
Partway up the slope, Fresh extended a telescope.
"See the Coin Exchange?"
"I see it. And it's still completely unopened."
"Right. Normally you wouldn't spot it unless your eyes were damn sharp."
"So from there to up ahead — that's all its territory?"
"Yeah. Sooner or later this whole area will be devoured too."
"Good grief..."
The territory was vast. From the Coin Exchange all the way to where they stood, it had to be a good kilometer or more.
There's no reason for a Dominant Species to appear this early... so what is this thing?
Won-goo had assumed that coming here in person would give him a feel for it — he had that much experience under his belt.
But right now, no feel was coming at all.
Monster after monster had landed on his list of suspects, and none of them fit. Match one detail, and another refused to line up.
"Getting a feel for it?"
"Shit... fucking..."
"Fucking what?"
Fresh peered at Won-goo's face, hope written across his own.
"No idea."
"......"
"If I don't know, I say I don't know. But the path forward — that I can kind of see."
"You can see it?"
"Fresh. Be straight with me."
"About what?"
"How big is your budget for this?"
"Aw, come on, asking a guy that..."
"I have to know whether to pull my foot out of this trap or not. A pack of veterans latched onto this thing and came up with nothing, and now you want to force it forward anyway. There are moves that could get us all royally screwed. You know that — it's exactly why you came to me, isn't it?"
"The budget's still plenty. What, need more personnel?"
"Then we proceed."
"Is this money for solving the case, or money for building a plan? Say it clearly. The numbers come out very different depending on the answer, Director Gong."
"Money for getting the estimate."
"I already ran three information brokers, and we'd called in plenty before that. If you're thinking of calling the Yang siblings..."
"The Yang siblings are in recovery for the time being. And a Field like this isn't Jin-seon's specialty anyway."
"Then?"
"Anyway — that's an okay, right? We're heading back."
Won-goo turned on his heel in a hurry.
"Hye-ji."
"Yes, Director."
"We pulled a profile recently, remember? Bring it."
Jeon Hye-ji moved fast. What she brought out of the Trailer was a fairly thick dossier. Won-goo handed it over, and Fresh glued himself to his side to read along.
"Whoa. What is this? Talk about a flattering photo, huh? He's practically a pretty boy?"
"You're doing that again? I told you he came through a dungeon recently."
"Potion? Even the handle is killer."
"Stop being an idiot and focus, damn you. He's the deciding factor. Guy's been constipated for weeks and finally passed a stone."
"Fine, fine. Who am I showing off to, anyway?"
"Look. Montage. Ring a bell?"
"Never heard of the guy. And?"
"He came over alongside Potion. And this one has a pretty unusual ability. See for yourself — he can reconstruct a crime scene from traces alone."
"There are information brokers like that?"
"He's not a broker. That's the thing — he has this ability anyway. And it's exactly what we need right now."
"Then why are you only telling me now! Go get him, fast!"
"Well..."
"Well, what?"
"Can we actually recruit him?"
"You can't? You've met him, haven't you?"
"Hm..."
Won-goo let the answer trail off — and Fresh's face twisted.
"This is why I keep telling you to manage your image. You are genuinely insufferable, you know that?"
"This world is crawling with bastards who'll strip you to the bone the second you look like easy prey. That's how I got this way. I wasn't born like this!"
"Haah... you really do have a talent for making simple things difficult."
"Good grief..."
Any other day, Won-goo would have snapped back with both barrels, but this time there was nothing wrong with what Fresh had said, so he had no comeback.
"There's no way to get a read on him? What's his temperament like? You've got a gut feeling about these things, don't you?"
"He struck me as the very hard-edged type?"
"Ah..."
"Oh! I've got it."
"What?"
Fresh's face lit up.
"He struck me as the type who takes very good care of his own people."
"A loyalty man?"
"Yeah. That kind of style."
"Then we work our way in from the bottom."
"Right. That'll be for the best."
"You've got profiles on his crew too?"
"Of course I do."
"Let's head back and put our heads together."
CRASH!
A glass shattered, shards spraying everywhere.
"Hey! You son of a bitch! This how you treat a regular o' yours, huh?!"
As the thick-accented man went on a rampage, the bar's guards moved in. The Shelter had its administrators, but they only stirred when something truly serious happened — handling drunks was left to the establishments themselves.
One difference from the world before the apocalypse: the guards working the Shelter were considerably quicker to lay hands on troublemakers. Drunk and belligerent? Force came out immediately — and no mercy was spared.
Wham! Thud!
A brass-knuckled guard drove his fist mercilessly at the drunk—
And a hand caught it with one palm.
"Whoa there, uncle. A man's allowed to get loud when he's been drinking, aye. But what in the world's this outta nowhere? Folks 'round here sure are cold-hearted, aren't they?"
The man who'd blocked the punch was none other than Fresh — rolling out a thick southern drawl to match.
"Wh... who might you be?"
the drunk asked.
"Just a fella passin' through... but this seemed a mite too cold for my likin', see."
"Ain't that right? Ain't it just. Son of a bitch didn't even recognize a regular. Ahh—!"
"Let's go. I'll buy you a drink somewhere better."
"But big... brother, what's yer name? Never seen yer face before?"
"Fresh. Only been 'round here a short while. And yerself?"
"Me? I go by Joce."
"Joce? Like the shark? Ha, that's a spicy one. Nickname's still got some life in it!"
"Bwahaha! It's nothing, nothing. Next to our big sister here, I'm just..."
Fresh worked his way into the drunk's good graces with practiced ease.
And from a short distance away, Won-goo's crew watched it all with warm, satisfied smiles.