Rumors Travel Fast
“What golden spoon? Anyone hears that, they'll get the wrong idea. I eat once a day these days.”
“Get outta here. Guys who eat once a week are a dime a dozen.”
Getting stronger with coins didn't mean everything got better. Sure, more vitality meant you could stave off hunger longer. But staving it off longer wasn't the same as not being hungry.
If anything, it was precisely because they were enhanced that survivors could eat more, and more varied things. Foods that would wreck an ordinary human's stomach went down clean and converted into energy without a hitch. The resistance types had it best of all — some enhancement-class survivors could chew down a poisonous frog raw and be no worse for wear than a brief faint.
“If you're gonna compare, there's no end to it.”
“I'm not saying compare. Neoguri-hyung, the world's in the state it's in, and you can afford to kill time like this. That alone makes you a golden spoon.”
“Then just tell people my mom was resourceful. Jeez……”
“Fine. But seriously, do something about your shop. Anyone walks in, they'll think it's a front.”
“Really? It's not that bad……”
“And that girl of yours. Spin. She's not normal. Watch yourself.”
“Her name's Spin.”
“Spin, Dolphin, whatever. Dolphin suits her better anyway. Just be careful.”
“Why? She's a hard worker.”
“Everybody works hard. Everyone's scraping to stay alive.”
“Then what's wrong with her?”
“Nothing's wrong with her. It's about how you read a person. One way of doing that — you know what it is?”
“What?”
“Look at who they're close with. Who's Spin close with?”
“Who's she close with?”
“Honestly…… do you even run a business, hyung? She's tight with Abal.”
“With Abal?”
“You've seen Abal. Getting close to her isn't easy. That girl isn't normal either.”
“Aren't you close with Abal too, Won-goo?”
“Who says! I'm not! This world's just small — we got tangled up a few times for business reasons, that's all. Don't go spreading weird rumors.”
“Hmmmm…… Don't think so. Everyone already knows you two are like that. They say Cheonchu Mountain rang out loud that night……”
“Goddammit…… You tired of living? Rang out? What the hell is that, some Eighties pulp-novel line? Nothing happened, and nothing ever will. Stop spreading garbage. You've been out of the loop forever — where'd you even pick that up?”
“From Spin.”
Won-goo's face twisted. He breathed hard through his nose, visibly wrestling the anger back down.
“Neoguri-hyung. What did I just say about who Spin's close with?”
“Abal.”
“Then if you heard it from Spin, who spread that nonsense in the first place?”
“……Abal, I guess.”
“Let's…… think before we open our mouths.”
“Got it. So who's here to pick out a weapon, then? Everyone in our crew already passed through your shop.”
Won-goo pointed at Rafael.
“Our new crewmate. Can't tell you who.”
“Crew's really multiplying lately. Guess I should keep my mouth shut?”
“Go ahead and talk. It's probably made the rounds of the whole Shelter already.”
“You think so?”
“You know how fast word travels around here.”
With that, Won-goo told Rafael to pick out whatever weapon she liked.
“Stock's grown, huh?”
“The Fishers came by. This is the clearance stuff.”
“You should've pulled the Fisher-issue gear aside. What is all this, everything jumbled in together? You really take the easy road, don't you.”
“I was getting around to sorting it.”
By then, Rafael had already made her choice.
She pointed at a massive hammer that looked bigger than she was.
Everyone's eyes went wide.
“That one?”
Rafael gave a slow nod.
“Isn't that thing way too big?”
But Rafael didn't bend.
“There's a smaller size. That one's Fisher-issue. Right, Neoguri-hyung?”
“It is. Hammers are popular — lots of people swear by them.”
For a beginner, a blunt weapon like a hammer beat a bladed one by miles. The weight was concentrated at the head, so it swung well, and even clumsy handling wouldn't crack it apart. Not breaking easily — that was, unexpectedly, one of the genuinely important qualities in a fight. In that respect, hammers built for combat could be counted on for durability, no question.
But the one Rafael was pointing at was simply too big. The handle alone ran about a hundred and fifty centimeters, and the head was thick enough to pass for a mallet's. Picture a construction-site sledgehammer with the head inflated to twice its size — that was about right. Sledgehammers were among the most popular blunt weapons out there; a strong enhancement-type could swing one with satisfying, bone-shaking force.
Even those enhancement-types, though, didn't use heads this absurd.
“Give me that one.”
“You sure about that?”
“She's got that look like she won't budge an inch. Just hand it over. She'll figure it out. How much?”
“One piece only.”
“Cheap. One silver coin?”
“Gold.”
“Goddammit……”
“Hey, don't get your hackles up. A Fisher carried that thing. Custom-made weapon.”
“Some great weapon. If it were that good, its owner wouldn't have died. If the owner hadn't died, it wouldn't have wound up here on your shelf.”
“Rules are rules, though. Even for you, I've gotta at least cover cost.”
“One gold coin for cost, huh…… Hyun-sung. Pick that thing up.”
“Yes, Boss!”
“How heavy is it?”
“Feels like about fifty kilograms, sir.”
Hammers pushing twenty kilograms did exist, but nobody could call those combat weapons. So yes — this thing was, by any honest measure, abnormally heavy.
“I'm practically giving it away. Word is the material isn't ordinary scrap iron, either.”
“Still just a sledgehammer at the end of the day. How's the balance?”
“Balances nicely, sir. But…… no. My apologies.”
Lee Hyun-sung started to offer an opinion, then shut his mouth.
“Why? Speak.”
“It's too heavy.”
“Figured as much. And yet……”
Won-goo shot Rafael one long look, then settled the bill with Neoguri.
Rafael stood there grunting and straining under the sledgehammer.
Dwarf Elves outclassed humans physically, but impossible was impossible. A fifty-kilogram hammer — a weapon that outweighed Rafael herself. Lifting it, fine. Swinging it, no. A weapon you couldn't swing properly was no weapon at all, no matter how heavy it was.
“Should we really just leave her like that? She might—”
Jeon Hye-ji asked.
“Can't you see it with your own eyes? That's no ordinary stubbornness. And Dwarf Elves have this weird obsession with their weapons. So leave her be.”
“Still……”
“I was planning to allocate her more gold coins anyway. She can't handle it right now, but if she stacks Strength, that problem solves itself.”
That was why Won-goo was hunched over his ledger, Danshin at his side, both of them poring over the numbers.
He'd picked up an unexpected new mouth, and if that mouth was going to pull its weight, coins had to be pressed into its palm. It wasn't that he had no spare coins — but they weren't exactly overflowing, either. The bigger the income grew, the bigger the outflow grew with it, and a fair chunk of their recent earnings hadn't been settled yet. Survivors got paid mostly in goods and kind, so converting it all to coins took time. There was no helping that.
“Hyun-sung!”
“Yes, Boss!”
Chwack!
He tore a page off the memo pad.
“Ten coins. You know the standard loadout for our crew? Run it exactly as always, then dump everything that's left into Strength. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, Boss!”
“Take her and go. Everyone goes along and comes back.”
“You're not coming with us, Director?”
“I'm off to see Sanghae. All of you come back and get some rest.”
“What business do you have with Sanghae, if I may ask?”
“Man's got holes in him. Somebody's got to fill them. Taking contracts is the best blood transfusion of gold coins there is.”
He was halfway down the street toward Sanghae's place when a familiar voice called out. It was Il-chul, who hadn't shown his face around lately.
Won-goo flashed him a wide grin.
Pak!
“Why'd you hit me!”
Il-chul, who'd been hurrying over all friendly, went dead serious. The pointed peak of his scalp flushed red.
“Who told you to get beaten?”
“Huh?”
“I asked who told you to get beaten up.”
“…….”
“Why'd you let yourself get smacked around and make me out to be the bad guy?”
“What kind of—”
“What? Were you about to swear at me? Our little Chul's gotten bold, hasn't he? Been feeling peckish lately, Chul? Missing the sweet taste of that threshing?”
“I'm not peckish! And I'm not hungry!”
“What? Not hungry? What kind of dirty business have you been running around doing, you punk? Sounds like somebody's overdue for treatment, huh?”
“Seriously, why are you like this? This is too much!”
“You want to know why?”
“Yes! I want to know!”
“I told you to grow me a lice farm, so why haven't you? I said I hate bald heads.”
“I'm not bald! I just can't grow the hair anymore!”
Il-chul roared it at the top of his lungs. Won-goo's eyebrows twitched.
“Whoa. You on something, punk?”
“No…… I stopped shaving like you told me to. The hair just won't grow.”
“What?”
“Because you kept hammering my head, it grows in patches! Like a go board!”
“Why do you keep screaming? Do you have any idea how hard a head like that is to make? Even desktop wallpapers are fundamentally checkerboard, you know. Brat.”
“…….”
“Anyway — next time, mark the spots where the hair grows. I'll steer clear of those when I hit you.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Mark it nice and clear.”
“Yes. But…… why is hitting me the starting assumption……”
“This punk's gaslighting to change the subject again. Look, punk — just don't do things that deserve a beating!”
“That doesn't even make sense——”
“That settles it. You're like this because you haven't had your therapy lately.”
“No! No!”
“So. Why'd you stop a busy man like me?”
“Ah! Director. The Fishers — you know them, right?”
“What about them?”
“Word is they're screwed?”
“…….”
“Explain it. In detail, thoroughly, precisely, meticulously. Say that again?”
“Us freelancers tag along on the Fisher hunts, don't we?”
“Somebody has to be there to pick up the loot. And you're telling me the hunt failed? No wonder the headcount's been looking shaky lately……”
That was exactly what Won-goo had worried about. The Cham Frog might have been a lowly 7th-grade among Large Species — but a Large Species was a Large Species.
At this point in the apocalypse, Large Species weren't something you were meant to fight. They were something you were meant to avoid — and, at most, get a taste of early so you'd know what was coming. Grinding manpower into the gears to kill one and live off it — that was the Fishers' trade. They were not, by any stretch, ordinary lunatics.
The very name Fisher had started as a mockery — that they cast out far too much bait.
“But even so — they couldn't take down a Cham Frog?”
“It wasn't the frog, sir. They say the Fishers turned on each other.”
“What?”
“Another band of Fishers came at them from a different direction, apparently.”
“And?”
“Sounds like they used to be one team. They went at each other until both sides were all but annihilated.”
For a moment, Won-goo's face went blank. This was a situation he hadn't seen coming.
“Wow…… I knew the Fisher bastards were lunatics, but they fought their own and wiped each other out?”
“Practically, from what I heard.”
“Unbelievable…… So why didn't you go? Tag along with Fishers and you'd have pocketed some coin, no?”
“I had other obligations. And the seniors told me you're not supposed to tail Fishers.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. They say if things get desperate, freelancers get thrown in as bait too……”
“Who are these wonderful seniors of yours? That was excellent advice.”
“Hehe…… Director. Believe it or not, I'm actually well-liked——”
Smack!
“Ack! What was that for this time!”
“Live honest, punk.”
“Where'd that come from?”
“You got all handsy with Potion last time and made our whole Shelter look bad. That was the bill.”
“Why are you bringing that up now?!”
“Just because.”
And even as he said it, Won-goo didn't forget to toss over a pouch heavy with silver coins.
The reason everyone cursed him out and still never cut their ties with him was simple enough — for all his faults, the man was never stingy when it came to looking after his own.