Gangs of Calione

Clashing with wolves dyed red, while sniper shots and spells kept raining down on me from behind. Even so, Blanca refused to give up. The sight of her shaking off her daze, tearing into the wolves she'd summoned herself, and slowly closing in on me was almost moving in its own way.

"I'll kill you with my own hands... no matter what."

Blanca was utterly consumed by rage—there was no other way to put it.

However.

"Looks like you've wasted too much time for that."

A silver knife slammed into the ground right in front of her as she lunged toward me, and a deep voice echoed from the hole-punctured ceiling.

"──Sorry for the delay, young master."

In one hand, he dangled a limp man; in the other, a gleaming knife. It was Parnello Ramichi.

"...I see it wasn't too dire a situation for you."

He dropped the unconscious man through the ceiling like discarded trash, then descended himself. A glance at the fallen man's face confirmed it was Jackal, another villain from the game. Parnello had taken him down effortlessly, as expected.

His suit was a bit torn and singed, but there were no visible wounds or signs of exhaustion.

Noticing my gaze on his clothes, Parnello brushed back his hair with an awkward smile.

"This place was rigged with so many traps, capturing him intact was impossible. Honestly, when the anti-personnel mines and explosives went off in sequence, even I was startled."

...Anti-personnel mines and explosives? Were those the blasts I'd heard earlier? I couldn't fathom how he'd emerged with his suit mostly intact.

"Why would Jackal... Wait. The hunting dog...? The Calione hunting dog is here?"

Blanca, who had been seething with fury moments ago, faltered and backed away at Parnello's sudden appearance.

Parnello turned to her with a glance.

"Jackal said the other villain was torturing Latte... So you must be Blanca."

He dismissed her casually and turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back to me.

"You must ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have had your hands full rescuing Latte, young master. Shall I wrap things up here... or will you finish it?"

The fight with Blanca was as good as over. Even if she charged again, the fully stacked Bloodline: Calione aura still surged through me.

"She's my prey, so I'll end her myself."

"Excellent."

Parnello flashed a grin and stepped behind me. Blanca ground her teeth in fury.

"You... you damned Calione bastards!!"

Feeling toyed with, Blanca exploded and charged at me.

"Who's the prey here? You're the prey!!"

Her rush was like a flash of light. The old me wouldn't have reacted in time—my throat would be slit before I blinked. But now, supercharged by stacks against a superior foe, I tracked her movements crystal clear.

This ability really is such a slow starter.

Recalling my clash with the Ranger Club, I channeled aura into Midas's Gloves. The image: the red knuckledusters I'd summoned back then.

Mana rebelled fiercely as I forced it in, but the aura coursing through me now could crush that resistance and more.

Red knuckledusters materialized on my hands once more. Red sparks crackled over the transformed gloves, unstable aura crammed in by force, on the verge of exploding.

"Still haven't learned."

I drove my fist full force into Blanca's gut as she swung her claws at me.

"You've been done for since earlier."

Precisely since I'd blasted her into Phase 2.

A hair's breadth in reach advantage—my fist sank into her abdomen first.

"Guhk──!"

Her body bent like a massive drum struck hard. Still, she reached for my throat.

A normal punch might have stopped there... but mine wasn't over.

─────!!

The pent-up backlash erupted again in a thunderous boom, churning her insides.

Blanca went limp. That blow would've vaporized her lower half—but her tanky defense saved her from death.

I shoved her aside.

"Gonna... die..."

Confirming her collapse, tension drained from me, and I slumped to the floor.

My first real brawl with a close-range villain on my level. Sure, I'd had backup from the crew, but for a first-year academy kid? A fantasy-tier feat.

"Huh?"

As I caught my breath, a system window popped up out of nowhere. A new story? Didn't we already have the club-related main story?

Some characters had multiple main stories branching off—I'd seen it a few times. Guess Eugene Han Calione was one of them.

Influence at 1500 from missions so far. 3000 seemed within reach soon.

But the real prize: Narrative Imprint.

In the original game, Narrative Imprint was so pivotal it distinguished named NPCs. Players used it to separate trash tiers from gods. That said it all.

But... why was everyone staring at me like that? So awkward.

"Young master. What was that just now...?"

Parnello, who'd watched from behind, approached and offered a hand.

"Hm? That?"

"Yes. Forming knuckledusters with red aura. When did you master that technique?"

...Ah.

Now I got why the crew gawked in shock and Parnello beamed with emotion.

They were flashing back unconsciously. To the man who stepped up during Korea's first dungeon outbreak. The symbol of them all, with red-dyed knuckledusters and fists.

Influence jumped 500 in one go. After all my jobs, knuckledusters alone netted that? It hit me how massive this meant to them.

They truly saw Father in me—the Calione heir.

"...Just happened while training aura. The gloves shifted form. Probably tied to the bloodline ability."

Couldn't say I copied it from the game, so I kept it vague but convincing.

Parnello nodded.

"...Yes. It's the technique the Don favors. To think you'd wield aura like that already. This humble Parnello's eyes are opened once more. Heh heh heh!"

In medieval terms, it'd cement my legitimacy. Showing Vito Calione's power outright? No wonder.

"...Mission accomplished. Let the cleanup crew handle the site. Let's head back—I'm beat."

Forcing a smile, Parnello naturally supported me.

"I've radioed the organization. Helicopter's en route."

"...Good."

It arrived soon after. Aboard, a waiting healer tended me as I shut my eyes.

"Oh, right—what about Latte?"

"She took our chopper to the med facility first. Needs long-term care after all that, but she's alive. Thank goodness."

Parnello smiled genuinely.

"All thanks to you, young master. You handled those guys, or we'd have lost her—and everyone."

Wanted to ask how he knew, but I just grinned. Everything ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worked out.

Back home, I headed to report to Father, but Parnello insisted on handling it—tomorrow's Gangwon trip and all. Desperate for bed, I gratefully retreated, showered, and crashed.

My hand drifted to the new UI hovering before me.

(N) Narrative Imprint

"...Gotta tap it to clear the new tag, at least?"

Heart pounding, I opened (N) Narrative Imprint.

The alert popped, followed by brief silence.

"Huh?"

Nothing...? Was opening it always like this? Or because I'm NPC-born?

Then──

"Guhk?!!"

My left shoulder suddenly ignited in crimson flames.