That Temper Needs Work
One week later.
From the day he was discharged, Baek Shin-hoo had been in and out of the Administration Bureau every single day.
Bang!
"Fuck! So what the hell are you gonna do for me, then?!"
Treating them like pushovers now that he was a civilian, he slammed the desk and unleashed a torrent of profanity. The counselor just stared back with dry, unimpressed eyes. In the old days, the director himself would have come running out to handle him. Now, nobody gave a damn.
"At present, the Administration Bureau has nothing it can do for you, Mr. Baek. Please rest and recover first, and then we'll monitor your progress—"
Bang!
"Rest, my ass. Fuck! I'll rest when I get my powers back!"
Word that he'd lost his abilities must have gotten around, because people came looking for a fight almost every other day. Even the gazes of passersby had started to feel like surveillance. Anxiety surged through him every time he walked down the street.
He'd even asked the Administration Bureau to assign him a hunter as a bodyguard, but the answer he got was a joke.
"There are no volunteers."
"I'll pay! Who said I wouldn't pay?!"
"It's not about the money. They're saying they'd rather get fired than take a protection detail for you, Mr. Baek."
"That doesn't even make sense!!"
"If anyone volunteers later, we'll put you in touch immediately."
"Fuck... The Administration Bureau's really going to shit. I'm leaking all of this!"
He ranted, mixing truth with fabrication, but in the end he had no choice but to walk out empty-handed. Now he had to step into a world that was nothing but enemies — the terror of not knowing when someone would put a knife in his back.
He glanced around, and when he saw too many people, he ducked into an alley for a moment. And in that instant, a man blocked his path.
"Long time no see. You're still in one piece, huh?"
"Who the hell are you?"
He racked his brain, but he couldn't place the man's face. The man let out a hollow laugh at that.
"Fuck. How much of a piece of shit do you have to be to not even remember the faces of the people you stepped on?"
"What are you talking—"
"Whatever. I didn't come here to catch up. Thanks to you, our guild dissolved and our ace became a wreck."
A cold sweat ran down Baek Shin-hoo's spine. Revenge. The approaching man radiated a crushing pressure. One way or another, he had to get through this. Even if it meant swallowing his pride — he had no powers now.
"I really am sorry about what happened back then. I was so desperate to climb higher that I think I went too far."
He put on the most pitiful face he could manage. The man stared at him with ice-cold eyes, then asked a question.
"So what's his name?"
"What?"
"What's the name of our ace — the one you turned into a wreck?"
"Uh... that's..."
At the hesitation, the man's face twisted into something monstrous as he closed in. Baek Shin-hoo sensed the danger and tried to run, but two more men had already blocked the way behind him. Front and back — nowhere to go.
The man in front roared, his voice thick with rage.
"Our ace's name is Kang Tae-hyeon, you piece of shit!"
"Oh! Right! Kang Tae-hyeon! I remember now! I'll go apologize in person—"
The man's fist slammed into Baek Shin-hoo's face. Lights exploded behind his eyes as he tumbled across the ground, a metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Defeat wrapped around him in an instant. His body wouldn't even react to a punch that wasn't anything special.
The man, eyes bloodshot, grabbed Baek Shin-hoo by the collar and hauled him up.
"Apologize? You son of a bitch! Tae-hyeon's already dead!"
"What?"
"You publicly humiliated him, turned him into a wreck, and he killed himself out of despair! You fucking bastard!"
The man came at him again, eyes blazing red. Terror settled over Baek Shin-hoo's face as he went down a second time. Watching him, the man's gaze grew colder and colder.
"No... forget it. I know this is a fucked-up thing to do. I know, but..."
He clenched his fist tight.
"If I just sat on this, I was going to go insane from the rage!"
He took a slow step closer. Then another.
"Right now I honestly want to get down on my knees and bow to Goat-jjang!"
As if those words were a signal, the hunters blocking the way joined in and started stomping him. Thud. Thud. Thwack.
"Ghhk! Ghk!"
Baek Shin-hoo curled into a ball, screaming.
"P-please... spare me..."
Apex Food Headquarters, New York.
Richard, Asia Regional Director, shoved his office door open hard. Bang. He dropped into his chair and yanked his tie loose.
"Hah... hah..."
He panted as if trying to cool a tongue on fire. His pale face had gone beet-red, and sweat kept beading on his forehead.
"Do these Korean bastards not know the meaning of moderation?"
He'd just come back from a nearby Korean restaurant on the recommendation of the Korea desk staffer. Authentic Korean cuisine, the man had promised. Every single dish that came out was an instrument of torture for the tongue. Every bite felt like it was being seared. He couldn't very well refuse to eat, so he'd picked at it, more pretending than actually eating — and now his tongue was so inflamed the acid reflux wouldn't stop.
"I suppose he was trying to make a good impression, but I am not happy with the results."
This performance review was looking...
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
The Korea desk staffer walked in with an awkward smile, an iced café latte in his hand.
"Haha... I got ahead of myself and put you through a lot, Director."
"Hah..."
That oily, shameless look of his drew a sigh all on its own. Richard had wanted to fire him ages ago, but the man had a knack for never quite crossing the line. And right now, he desperately needed something to soothe his insides. The man at least had some sense, so Richard decided to let it slide this once.
"Set it down and get out."
"Ah! Before I go, I have one thing to report."
"What is it?"
Richard sucked down the café latte, trying to calm the fire in his gut.
"The pills that appeared in Korea. The research team finished the basic analysis."
"And the results?"
"Amino acid complexes, a bit of fatty acids and polysaccharides, and flavonoid-class saponin glycosides. That's all of it, they say."
"What does that mean?"
The Korea desk staffer shrugged.
"Basically no different from a protein supplement you could buy off the shelf."
Richard's brow furrowed. Materials brought out of the Tower often contained unknown compounds — the company had made a killing off that, in fact. This item, though, seemed determined to hide its true nature, offering nothing of interest.
"Investigate further for now. I'll approve the funds — acquire more of the product."
"About that..."
"What is it this time?"
"The NPC in Korea who was exchanging those food items has disappeared, apparently."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I've uploaded a detailed report to the internal network."
"Understood. You may go."
Once the subordinate had left, Richard opened the internal network. It was packed with documentation of an NPC who had fought an S-rank hunter — and won. As he read the report, Richard's eyes grew wider and wider.
An NPC beat an S-rank?
And that S-rank was left a wreck?
And the NPC hasn't been seen since that day?
After scanning every last detail, Richard sank into thought. First of all, the NPC who exchanged the pills disappearing was good news. From the company's perspective, an unsolvable headache had simply vanished. Even if it were still around, it probably wouldn't have had much impact on the market.
However...
The fact that the NPC is still alive — is that a risk factor?
They still didn't know what it was. Richard picked up his smartphone and launched the TC — Trust & Connection — app. Fingerprint, iris, facial recognition: he ran through all of them and connected in seconds.
He tapped the report composition button.
Threat Level: MAXIMUM (Max)
A thorough investigation was the only way to leave no loose ends. All he had to do was hit send, and this task would be done.
And in that moment.
"Huh...?"
Suddenly, his fingers wouldn't move. No — his entire body wouldn't move. No strength would enter his limbs. The smartphone in his hand dropped onto the desk. His voice wouldn't come out either. He couldn't even call for help.
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked at the door. Click. He couldn't even answer, and they didn't wait for permission — they just walked in.
That man...?
The Korea desk staffer. The same bastard who'd set down the café latte with that awkward smile just minutes ago. He walked over with a shameless, easy grin.
"Whoa~ Even I have to admit, that timing was a work of art."
What was he talking about all of a sudden? The staffer glanced around the room, giggling.
"Shall we call this the deceased's top-five greatest hits?"
Was this guy actually...?
Wait... what was this guy's name again?
"Ahh, that's a shame. If you'd just made the right call, I was going to let this slide quietly."
What did he mean, "the right call"?
"If you write a report like that, I don't have a choice but to act, do I? Though you'd have been dead before the day was out anyway."
Had he been under surveillance this whole time? Then... was it them?
The man chattered on excitedly, as if he could read minds.
"Curious whether that NPC is on our side, are you?"
"Honestly, we don't really know either. We're just giving them a tiny bit of help because the other side is on alert."
"Though we have been thinking we might look into it ourselves while we're at it."
After talking to himself for a while, the man snapped his fingers and stepped closer. Snap.
"Almost forgot."
He lifted Richard's finger and started jabbing at the smartphone screen.
Threat Level: CLEARED
Once the edit was done, he hit send.
"Perfect."
With the job done, he launched back into his excited rambling. This man really did like to talk.
"Man~ When you think about it, your higher-ups are pretty vicious, aren't they?"
"You're not idiots. Slapping 'TC' on everything in giant letters is basically asking to be found, isn't it?"
"Which means you're disposable pawns — they want you drawing attention while they buy time, right?"
"The clever part is, even knowing that, you still can't just ignore it and let it go."
"As a law-abiding gentleman myself, when I see trash sitting right in front of me, I have to take it out. That's just how I'm wired."
The man talked for a good while, then seemed to remember something and picked up the home-run ball sitting on the shelf. That had been a gift from this same man — a ball signed by the batter who'd hit the home run, he'd said. Had there been something inside it?
"This is company equipment, so I have to return it. The hidden camera and bug in this thing are killer."
"Doesn't even show up on TSCM sweeps."
The man disposed of the coffee on the desk as well. He hid the baseball, then straightened his clothes.
"Alright then. My work here is done. As long as the Korea side handles their end, we're good."
"So rest easy... and if you're reborn, try not to end up dancing in the hands of villains like this."
The man grabbed the doorknob, cleared his throat, and composed his voice. Then, with a look of desperate panic, he flung the door wide and shouted into the hallway.