Saving Rico from the Hangure
It was a situation no different from a one-night stand anyway. Seonwoo's heart tugged at Rico's sad expression, but he tried his best to ignore it. He reached for the strap of her gown. That was the moment.
Her shoulder, where his fingertips touched, trembled faintly but unmistakably. Seonwoo's movement halted abruptly. He couldn't see her face properly as she kept her head bowed, but he caught sight of her tightly pressed lips and the quivering of her jaw. She was crying. Silently, tears just dripping down.
Tears of resignation and fear, crushed by the weight of life from the girl before him. Something inside Seonwoo snapped at the sight. The hot lust burning in his lower abdomen cooled in an instant. In its place surged a bitter self-loathing, pity, and rage.
Fuck, this isn't right.
No matter what, paying to fuck a virgin—and one with a story like this—was the kind of shit only trash would do.
No matter how much I swore to live honestly by my desires like a total scumbag, this crosses the line...
He sighed, withdrew his hand, and took a step back from her.
"Forget it. Let's just talk tonight."
Rico looked up in confusion at his unexpected response. Her tear-streaked face came into view under the light.
"Huh? But... the money..."
"This is just payment for your story."
Seonwoo pulled 30,000 yen from his wallet and placed it in her hand. Rico stared blankly at the money clutched in her palm.
"Can you tell me honestly why you're doing this kind of work?"
At his gentle tone, the dam holding back Rico's emotions finally burst. She broke down sobbing like a child and began spilling her story.
Her father had passed away long ago, leaving her alone with her mother. But the small shop her mother ran had become a target for the "Hangure," the new social scourge rising in Japan these days. They extorted money under the guise of protection fees, and the debt snowballed. Stress and overwork worsened her mother's chronic illness, but they couldn't even afford hospital bills. In the end, her mother passed away recently, and the Hangure, demanding Rico repay the debt, had driven her out onto the streets.
Her tale of losing even her mother and being left alone in the world struck at the deepest wound of Seonwoo, who had grown up as a complete orphan. He saw his past self in her. A profound sense of kinship welled up, along with an unbearable rage toward the trash who had dragged her into the abyss.
After finishing her story, Rico wiped her tears and moved to undress with a resigned air.
"Now... I'll give you my body as promised."
"Sigh... No need."
Seonwoo stopped her. His voice had sunk cold as ice.
"How many of those bastards are there?"
Rico flinched at his murderous glare and answered.
"Usually... five or six move together. Sometimes nearly ten..."
"Are they tough? Like yakuza?"
"Similar, but yakuza can't even show their faces in Japan anymore. After the anti-gang ordinances strengthened the Anti-Organized Crime Law, the Hangure emerged to evade legal scrutiny... They do everything from petty neighborhood thug stuff to taking over what yakuza used to. And they always carry knives or something..."
Seonwoo confirmed the info and nodded. He asked her one last thing.
"Where can I find those fuckers?"
Frightened by his barrage of questions, Rico revealed the spot where she went every night to hand over the money. Seonwoo stood up. He gently stroked the hair of Rico, who gazed up at him anxiously.
"Don't worry. Stay here. I'll handle everything and come back."
He got her contact info and left the room without another word. Rico stared blankly at the spot he'd left, swept up in a tangle of hope and anxiety.
10-Min Blackbox.
Show me what happens if I kick the door open right now.
A video played before his eyes. Seonwoo bursting through the door, punching the nearest guy's face. But in that instant, a guy lounging on the sofa pulls a knife from his pocket and stabs his side. The others swarm the staggering Seonwoo.
Failure. Frontal assault won't work.
Alright, take out the guy hiding by the door first.
He activated the skill again. This time, cracking the door to peek inside, then ambushing the guy by the door. Success. But a beer bottle flies from inside, smashing his head, and as his vision blurs, knife-wielding guys charge.
Failure. Need more intel.
Seonwoo ran the Blackbox simulation repeatedly. He mapped out enemy positions, habits, attack patterns—even exactly who pulled what weapon and when. The fat guy on the sofa favored a butterfly knife; the skinny one by the window preferred an iron pipe. And most crucially, the location of the rusty metal cabinet holding Rico's father's IOU.
After dozens of simulations, he perfected the strategy. Seonwoo finally opened his eyes. Certainty gleamed in them. He entered the building.
Bam!
Seonwoo kicked open the hideout door.
"What the fuck is this guy?!"
The first to react was the guy by the door playing a smartphone game. Just like the simulation. As he spat curses and stood, Seonwoo grabbed the nearby fire extinguisher and blasted his face.
"Gahk!"
The guy rolled on the floor screaming, vision obscured by white powder. The commotion drew the others' eyes to Seonwoo.
"Grab that fucker!"
At the shout from the apparent leader, the skinny guy by the window charged with an iron pipe. Seonwoo ducked as if he'd predicted it, closed in, and drove his elbow into the guy's solar plexus.
"Guhk...!"
The breathless guy dropped the pipe and collapsed. In that moment, the fat guy from the sofa approached, twirling a flashy butterfly knife. Seonwoo swung the freshly seized iron pipe at his wrist.
"Agh!"
The knife clattered to the floor amid the crack of breaking bone. Seonwoo didn't stop, systematically shattering legs and arms with the pipe. The hideout turned into a hell of screams and groans in seconds.
Ignoring the sprawled gangsters, Seonwoo headed to the rusty metal cabinet from the sim. He smashed the lock with the pipe, rummaged inside, and found Rico's father's IOU stamped boldly in red ink.
Still using outdated analog shit like this. Or should I be grateful? Made it easy to clean up.
He approached the leader on the floor, staring up in terror. Right before his eyes, Seonwoo lit a lighter and set the IOU ablaze. The leader watched the paper curl into ashes with eyes of utter despair.
Seonwoo dusted the ashes onto his face and quietly left the hideout.
Heading to a deserted alley, Seonwoo leaned against the wall. His legs buckled from the first real fight.
Ugh... Even knowing the future, a brawl like this is new... Knives and pipes...
After catching his breath against the wall, he moved on.
Seonwoo returned to Rico's room, brushing dust from his clothes as if nothing had happened. Rico, anxiously waiting inside, gasped at his unscathed appearance.
Without a word, he showed her a photo on his phone: the burning IOU.
"It's all over now."
Rico understood everything from the picture. She gazed at Seonwoo, her savior from hell, with eyes of awe and worship.
Seonwoo asked Rico, who had sunk to the floor in grateful tears.
"Hey... do you have a place to go back to now?"
Rico weakly shook her head. The rented apartment was long gone, and even the rent had gone to the Hangure.
Seonwoo knelt on one knee before her, meeting her eyes, and proposed.
"Then, wanna come to Korea with me? You know Korean, and you got nowhere else."
Rico's eyes widened at the sudden offer.
"D-does that mean... we're g-getting m-married?"
Seonwoo chuckled at her response.
Desire said she was the perfect wife type—her thinking's on another scale...
Suppressing a laugh, he stroked her hair.
"Let's start as girlfriend and boyfriend first."
Rico's face flushed bright red. She nodded shyly with a smile.