Whack-a-Mole in Reverse
Even before Won-goo gave the signal, Suwon and Jo Mu-sa were already setting up the whiteboard.
Seeing that, Won-goo grinned, walked over, and picked up a board marker.
An intuitive explanation using pictures. Won-goo drew quickly and easily.
"Say this is the male-and-female frog pair. We line the trailers up like this instead of bait—that's how we draw the aggro. We show ourselves outside the trailer, then duck back in. Over and over."
"D-Director."
"What?"
"Like, like whack-a-mole...?"
"Exactly. Whack-a-mole. You've all seen it at the arcade, right? Except this time, we're the moles."
"You intend to use that to close the distance?"
"We have to clear a path so the main cannon can get a shot in."
"Who would the main cannon be?"
"We recruit someone. As of now, nobody on our crew fits the bill. If there's even a sliver of potential, it'd be our rookie, I suppose?"
At that, everyone stole a glance at Rafael. Even with all eyes on her, Rafael showed no particular reaction.
"Still, it'd be too much for her for now."
"Is there truly no one else among us?" Hye-ji asked.
"Right. Large Species don't even feel small attacks. Thick hides, monstrous vitality. You have to feed them something massive. But don't worry about that—I've already got a recruitment list drawn up."
"Still, that means we lack a main cannon, doesn't it?"
"Why do you think I didn't stop by Neoguri's shop first? At this point, everyone's signed on, right? This is confidential atop confidential, so zip it, all of you. Stay on standby and don't leave the premises for a while. Dan-shin!"
"Yes, sir! Director!"
"Open the warehouse. If anyone wants something to eat, bring it to them."
"Yes, sir!"
"Everyone eats well, rests well, and waits. If a visitor shows up, make an excuse for me and turn them away. Keep conversation to an absolute minimum. Got it, everyone?"
"Yes!"
The crew answered in unison.
"And Hye-ji."
"Yes?"
"Stick close to Rafael and teach her our language. She's sharp—I can tell she'll pick it up fast."
"I'll do my best."
"Effort doesn't matter. This is a world where results are what count."
"Yes..."
"I'm not dumping it all on you, though. Give it a try first. Then we'll talk about how it went."
Jeon Hye-ji nodded her answer. There was a pleasant change in her—she'd put on muscle since before. She wasn't quite as wiry as Rafael, but she had still been thin enough that the added strength suited her.
Won-goo was picking up his bag to head out when Mu Beob-sa approached.
"You believe you can persuade Neoguri? He's a retired man, after all..."
"There's no such thing as retirement in this line of work. Only long vacations. It's about time that man took a break from his break. Besides, this job hands everything to him on a silver platter—he'll take it. Oh, and Mage—your regular at that bookstore, Insuk. Find out where she is right now."
"Insuk? Do you need that woman's strength?"
"The trailers alone leave me a little uneasy. We'll need barriers too."
"Her price is steep, that part is true..."
"Oh, come on. Have you ever seen me skim money off a job? Pricey or not, I match whatever they ask. Who doesn't know how obsessed that man is with money?"
"Understood. I'll visit the bookstore."
"Like I said before—secrecy is paramount. Even when you meet him, just say he's needed for a job and bring him back. We'll handle the contract and briefing afterward."
"Understood."
Neoguri's shop.
Neoguri was sprawled out, puffing lazily on a cigarette.
"Quite the idle gentleman, aren't you. At least air the place out."
"I smoke because I like it. Why would I air it out? Were you raised in a freezer?"
"Maybe."
"Oh."
Neoguri sat up and inspected the bag's contents.
"Well? That the agreed amount?"
"Yeah. There's actually more in here than expected? Whoa. Why didn't you syk more off the top?"
"I'm Gong Won-goo. You think I'm the type to skim off cigarette deliveries?"
"You're not, but you did say you'd keep a fat reserve for yourself."
"I've kept plenty. One round trip—anything more than that and my conscience would have something to say."
"Conscience, my ass. Not just anyone can make that round trip, you know."
With that, Neoguri tossed a heavy zippered pack—five hundred cigarettes—right in front of Won-goo. Then he tore open a fresh pack for himself and sampled the taste on the spot.
"That's enough. I'm well stocked now."
"You smoke too, though?"
"I trade with Baek Seol regularly. She supplies me cheap, so keep it. Besides, we're hitting the market too."
"Right. Still, take it. I brought back more than I planned on."
"Fine. Let's do a job."
"What the hell are you on about?"
Neoguri narrowed his eyes.
"Time for a comeback. Enough playing golden-spoon boy."
"Comeback to what? I've never actually done this work in my life. You know my skills are absolute garbage. Hell, I can't even fight to save my life."
"I know. Your Gift's a one-trick pony."
"Exactly. And the cost-efficiency on that trick is so rotten it's pointless."
"You think I'd ask without knowing all that? I'm asking because everything's already set up."
"What kind of job?"
"Sign the contract, then you get the briefing."
"..."
"Deal?"
"No. Looks f*cking lethal."
"You really think that's my style? Dragging you into a death trap?"
"That's exactly my point, isn't it?"
"You're bored, hyung."
"I'm not bored."
"You are. It shows all over you."
"No, I'm NOT bored, you crazy bastard. I'm living just fine—what's with the bullsh*t!"
Neoguri's voice rose.
"Okay. Deal—it's settled you'd rather be beaten to death than do it?"
"Not doing it. Tell me what the job is and then I'll decide."
"Then I've made my case sufficiently. No backing out with excuses later."
"What?"
"Neoguri-hyung."
"...?"
"How long do you think this lifestyle can last? You don't actually think things end here, do you? This is just the beginning. The beginning."
"..."
"Anyway, no need for a long speech. I've made my offer, clearly. If you whine about it later, I won't bother holding back my language either."
"Ah... you f*cker, you know exactly which buttons to push. Fine—what is it? There's actually a job?"
"Use that head of yours. Why did the world suddenly flip upside down and become a place where people upgrade themselves with coins? You think this stays the same for a thousand years? You prepare for anything, anytime. To survive. And look at you, hyung. Is this preparation? You're just committing slow-motion suicide."
"Spare me the sermon. So taking this job counts as 'preparing' or whatever?"
"That's up to you, hyung. But as a warm-up, it's a perfect job. That Gift you've got? It's genuinely good. So why are you letting it rot?"
"Because I don't want to die."
"Then take the job. If you don't want to die."
"Is that a threat all of a sudden?"
"What threat? It's advice. I'm worried about you."
"You sound ready to kill me if I refuse."
Neoguri was grinning slyly.
"Jokes aside. Think it over. I mean this, seriously."
At that, Neoguri stopped laughing too.
The Named began gathering at Shelter Sabbath.
This time there was none of the previous fanfare. At Won-goo's earnest request, they slipped into the shelter quietly and made their way to Sanghae's restaurant.
"So what's the job this time? Another sweet gig like the last one?"
Fresh asked with a sly grin. His arm was in a different state than when they'd last seen him.
"This one's a lot nastier. But the payoff's huge. The budget allocated for this operation is fifteen hundred."
"Silver coins? Or gold?"
Every head turned toward the questioner. Won-goo regarded him with a look of pure pity.
"I gather every Named in the region and offer a job for fifteen hundred silver? Let's engage the brain before asking questions, hm?"
Fifteen hundred gold coins. A staggering sum, but the Named didn't so much as flinch.
Sanghae's restaurant was packed to the walls. On top of that, everyone had signed a confidentiality agreement before even entering.
They all understood—this was no easy job.
"So what are we hunting, ay?" Montage asked. Strictly speaking, he wasn't one of the local Named, but his skill was excellent.
That was why Won-goo had reached out, and he'd gladly accepted—bringing Potion along as well.
They already knew him well by now. That sly, easygoing human called Gong Won-goo. And that his ability was good enough to be classed S-rank without argument. Add to that a man you could trust.
In this world, finding someone who checked both boxes was next to impossible. So when a man like that made a request, dropping everything to accept it was simply the right call.
"Siamese Frog. Grade 7 Large Species. On the weak side, as Large Species go."
"Aw, hell..."
Groans erupted all around. Everyone muttered their complaints.
"Director Gong. Large Species are a job for the Fishers. Taking this crew after one doesn't add up—cost per kill is way off. We're not Fishers. Half of us have never hunted a Large Species in our lives."
"I know, Fresh. But you think I didn't factor that in? I know exactly what you're all worried about. But it's a Siamese Frog—not some other beast—so we can take it just fine. The whole operation's already built; leave the killing to me. What matters to us is something else entirely, isn't it? For the danger involved, is the pay worth it? All that groaning just now—that was you telling me your lives were priced too cheap, right?"
"See? That's what everyone's thinking."
"Which is why the Shelter Director has agreed to open the equipment warehouse. The weapons depot used by the administrators here."
"Whoo!"
The murmuring started up again.
"The specs won't match what the beastfolk carry—the certification barcodes won't be stamped. But you all know this: compared to what's currently in circulation, that depot holds top-shelf gear. And most important of all—you get to pick equipment that fits you. That's the real prize. Finding well-made gear that actually suits you—I don't need to tell anyone here how rare that is."
Heads nodded all around in agreement.
"Same terms as last time. Coins allocated by team. Equipment allocated by team. Exactly fifty teams here right now. If everyone present commits, we roll out with no backfill. The objective's the same too. No wounded. No casualties."
"We know full well what Director Gong's capable of. Question is whether we've got the firepower to bring down a Large Species."
"I recruited with exactly that in mind, so don't worry. I know it's your biggest concern. So don't. Neoguri's coming out of retirement."
At the name Neoguri, several of the Named nodded again.
Montage leaned over to Fresh and asked about him.
"There's one. One-trick Gift, that fella. So with him joining, we can assume firepower won't be an issue, eh?"
"You bet? Then we're good?"
"Should be. Director Gong—that bastard doesn't place a bet unless it's a sure thing."
"Director Gong, lad, let me borrow ye a minute."
Once the master contracts were squared away, Montage came over with his crew in tow.
Jaws and Won-goo exchanged a brief nod, and the crew members greeted one another as well.
"A fresh face here, eh?"
"Sharp eye as always, Director Gong."
"Hard to miss a mug like that."
Montage and his crew's looks were, charitably, hard to praise. On visuals alone they might as well have been Gyeongsang mob enforcers.
But the man standing behind them was something else entirely.
A mountain of a body with an intimidating presence, a thick shaggy beard, and eyes glinting with a powerful killing intent.
Impossible for Won-goo's eye to miss.
"Firepower reinforcements this time? Or vanguard?"
"Neither. The lad had his reasons, so I brought him along myself. Oi, Kiss! Come introduce yourself. Ye'd best make a good showing, lad. In this region, whatever Director Gong says goes."
"Kiss, twenty-five years of age. A pleasure."
Kiss bowed with impeccable courtesy. But the presence he radiated was no joke. Up close, he looked even bigger than Ralph, the giant they'd seen a while back—big enough to make even Lee Hyun-sung look small.
"Twenty-five, you say? You don't look it."
"He is. Twenty-five. Hey—step back now."
Kiss bowed crisply once more and retreated.
"Your hyung told me to take the greeting, so I did. But who is he? Adding him to a team this time?"
"No. If a job comes up, I was told to ask ye to give him work."
"...?"
"His skills are excellent."
"What's his position? Can't decide whether to use him until I know that."
"Ah, right—I never said. He's a healer."
"A healer? Same role as Potion?"
"Right. A healer."
"We already have Potion?"
"Didn't expect that out of ye, Director Gong. A healer's a healer, but their fields are different. Potion treats everything under the sun. That lad specializes in one thing—slapping the breath back into blokes who are already halfway gone. And his skill is genuinely unreal. How good is he, ye ask?"
"Hnngh. Hold on a second."
Won-goo tilted his head toward eleven o'clock and furrowed his brow.
"Just asking to be sure. The nickname 'Kiss'—it's not, by any chance, related to what he does when he uses his ability?"
"Well, it's a bit of an uncomfortable topic, but... his skill's the real deal all the sa..."
"Ugh..."