Hunting Season
The assault on the Yonggol-pa had thrown everything into utter chaos.
It was only natural.
In a single night, twelve executives of the Yonggol-pa—who had controlled Cheonan and Asan and wielded their influence without challenge—along with their boss, Yang Ik-soo, had been completely wiped out.
Wiped out, pure and simple.
As if it had been a carefully planned operation, every last executive and the boss himself had fallen to what appeared to be the work of a single individual. The most shocking part was that all of it had unfolded in the span of just two days.
The Yonggol-pa had tried to respond in their own way.
After five executives went down on the first day, they convened an emergency meeting, beefed up their security details, and did everything they could to protect themselves.
It made no difference.
Even with more bodyguards, the man never slowed his advance.
If anything, he displayed pure dominance—subduing every single guard who charged him alone before taking down his intended target.
According to the witnesses, his skill was something else entirely.
It was like watching a master of combat.
He tore through them single-handedly; even when they surrounded him with weapons drawn, no one could stand in his way.
One hit.
Every last one of them crumpled from a single blow.
A second strike was never needed.
One punch, and the entire crew of enforcers went down.
On top of that, Boss Yang Ik-soo was found in the bedroom of his own home.
Every joint in his body had been shattered; he would be stuck in long-term hospital recovery.
He was in no condition to lead an organization.
The same went for the rest of the executives.
And so, with twelve executives and Boss Yang Ik-soo taken out, the Yonggol-pa became ownerless territory overnight.
Of course, no one could simply let the Yonggol-pa collapse like that. The Gangil-hoe in Daejeon sent people in to take control.
Yang Ik-soo had been affiliated with the Gangil-hoe, and the Yonggol-pa was effectively a subordinate organization under them.
Over this mess, the Gangil-hoe rushed people out and ordered them to find out exactly what had happened.
But all they turned up was this:
The culprit had worn a hat, a black mask, and leather gloves.
They tried to identify him through the CCTV footage, but he had covered his face so thoroughly that it was impossible. All they could make out was his build—around 180 cm tall, broad-shouldered, solidly built.
And the fighting skill of the figure on the CCTV left even the people reviewing the footage in awe.
Surrounded, he dodged and deflected countless incoming attacks so fluidly that he barely looked human.
The old saying “flies and crawls” fit him perfectly; he was an absolute powerhouse.
More than anything, they could not pin down his range of activity.
Even when they tried to track his movements, he would appear in an instant and vanish just as quickly, leaving them nothing but confusion.
Above all, how he had broken into Yang Ik-soo’s home, ambushed him, and slipped out without a sound remained a complete mystery.
It was enough to make a ghost weep.
Faced with all this, the people the Gangil-hoe had dispatched for damage control found themselves more flustered than anything.
In any case, stabilizing the now-ownerless Yonggol-pa came first.
They still had no idea who the culprit was, but they could not simply stand by and watch the organization fall apart.
The executives sent by the Gangil-hoe moved quickly, reorganizing and cleaning house.
While the Yonggol-pa fell under Gangil-hoe control and began the process of recovery, Seong-min stayed by Yoo Ji-ah’s side.
The next day.
When Yoo Ji-ah woke, her expression looked better than it had the day before.
“Feeling any better after getting some sleep?”
“Yeah…”
“I ordered two bowls of gomtang so you can get your strength back. You’ll feel better once you eat.”
Seong-min had gone for gomtang the very day he was discharged after the traffic accident.
Hye-suk had treated him to it.
The beef bone soup he had eaten for recovery had been surprisingly good.
Clearly the long simmering of the bones made the difference.
Remembering that, Seong-min ordered two bowls through a delivery app.
Before long a text arrived saying it was there; he opened the front door and found the gomtang waiting.
He carried the bag inside, spread newspaper on the floor, and unpacked the two bowls of soup along with the packaged rice and the side dishes—kkakdugi and the rest.
“The broth came out nice and rich.”
When he lifted the lids, the milky, well-extracted gomtang broth came into view.
“Mix a bowl of rice into this and eat it nice and hot—you’ll get some energy back.”
Seong-min himself mixed the rice into the gomtang, turning it into a proper gukbap for her.
Nothing beat it for restoring strength.
“Here.”
He held out a disposable spoon and wooden chopsticks.
Yoo Ji-ah took them.
“If it tastes bland, add some salted shrimp and the chili paste. That should make it better.”
Seong-min added a proper amount of the chili paste and salted shrimp himself and tasted the broth.
“Not bad.”
He started eating in earnest, but Ji-ah still just held her spoon and watched him.
“You’re not eating?”
“I will… But there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
“How did you know I was in that situation?”
Yoo Ji-ah could not understand how Seong-min had known and come to save her.
“I went back to the orphanage for the first time in a while.”
“The orphanage?”
“They said the class president had visited three years ago. To see Haengboki.”
“……”
“Same for me. I went to see the director and the teachers, and I saw Haengboki again after all that time. I was so grateful that Teacher Ju A-ram has been going there all this time to take care of the grave.”
Yoo Ji-ah already knew.
When she had visited three years ago, Haengboki’s grave had still been carefully maintained.
Even then she had wondered whether Haengboki was still all right.
Thankfully, Haengboki had still been right there.
“They said you cried there.”
“…The teacher told you?”
“She said you’d asked her to keep it secret. But she just couldn’t let it go. So she told me the truth—that the class president had gone to see Haengboki and cried. When I heard that, what was I supposed to do? Just shrug and move on? No way.”
Yoo Ji-ah knew that too.
If Seong-min found out, there was no chance he would simply let it pass.
“That’s why… I asked her to keep it secret. I was afraid… if word reached you, you’d get hurt because of me.”
“I thought you were living well. I figured if it was the class president… you’d definitely be doing better than me.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. And right now, just focus on taking care of yourself.”
Yoo Ji-ah slowly nodded and finally lifted the spoon to her mouth.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s fine…”
“Eat more. If you don’t, I’m going to be disappointed.”
“I will…”
Just as Seong-min said, Yoo Ji-ah finished the entire bowl of gomtang.
Part of it was the hunger from waiting for him and going without food, but mostly she was afraid he really would be disappointed if she left any.
Once they had finished and cleaned up the floor, Seong-min mixed two cups of instant coffee.
“Here.”
He set one cup in front of Yoo Ji-ah.
“The Yonggol-pa is going to be too busy cleaning up their own mess to do anything else.”
“Too busy cleaning up?”
“I told you. I took out their executives and the boss, Yang Ik-soo.”
“That… is that true?”
“Why would I lie to the class president?”
She simply could not believe it.
Yoo Ji-ah knew perfectly well how terrifying Yang Ik-soo was.
How terrifying gangsters were.
Yet Seong-min claimed he had punished them all in just two days. It was impossible to accept.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I’ve dealt with them. I know. There’s a reason people call gangsters gangsters…”
“Normally, yeah. But Class President—no, Ji-ah—there’s something you don’t know.”
“Something I don’t know…?”
“That I’m not as ordinary as you think. Whether you believe I took down the Yonggol-pa executives or not is up to you, Ji-ah. But I… I don’t lie to you about things like this.”
“……”
From Yoo Ji-ah’s perspective, the words were hard to swallow.
But looking at this man—looking at Seong-min—his eyes were far too serious for her to call it a lie.
“Don’t worry about anything. Just focus on recovering and getting back to a normal life.”
“Can I…? Is it even possible for me… to live a normal life again?”
Yoo Ji-ah had no confidence.
Her family had collapsed like that.
She had watched her father take his own life.
Then the loan sharks had dragged her away and sold her to the Yonggol-pa.
From that moment on she had belonged to them.
Seeing her looks, the Yonggol-pa had put her to work right away.
After that they had used her for VIP entertainment that was important to the organization.
That was why her face had never been damaged until now.
As long as she was entertaining VIPs, her appearance always had to stay clean and neat.
But once that value started to fade, they had recently sent her to the red-light district.
That place marked the beginning of an even lower bottom than before.
Yoo Ji-ah had already given up on herself, so even the thought of selling her body there left her numb.
And her first customer had come sooner than expected.
The man sitting right in front of her.
Lee Seong-min.
“You can live a normal life. Impossible? Not a chance. I’ll make sure of it. Those VIPs who won’t let you go because they’re afraid you’ll expose their dirty secrets—I’ll take care of them too. You think it’s impossible? Just watch. I’ll show you whether it’s impossible or not.”
For an ordinary person it would have been impossible.
But for Seong-min, who had obtained an incredible ability and changed completely, it was not.
Once he had the list and the information on who they were and what they did, cleaning them up would be no problem.
Hunting the Yonggol-pa executives and their boss had made Seong-min truly feel, in his bones, just how transcendent the power he held really was.
A Transcendent.
In the truest sense, he was a superhuman who had stepped beyond the limits of ordinary people.
No matter how skilled a human might be, a human was still only human.
They could never stand against a Transcendent.
Seong-min…
Looking at Seong-min speaking with such absolute conviction, Yoo Ji-ah could not tear her eyes away.
“Ji-ah, write down every VIP you dealt with on this paper.”
Seong-min pulled out a sheet of stationery and a ballpoint pen and held them out.
“Don’t leave a single one out. All of them.”
“All of them…?”
“Yeah. All of them.”
“……”
Yoo Ji-ah hesitated.
The more she did this, the more danger Seong-min would be in, wouldn’t he?
“Do you remember what I said back in school?”
“What…?”
“What I said in front of Haengboki.”
“……”
She remembered.
The vow he had made—that he never wanted to experience failing to protect someone and having to let them go again.
“Back then you—the class president—protected me on the day I was being bullied. So now it’s my turn. I’ll make it so you can live a normal life again. I’ll make it so you can smile again. Just watch.”
Yoo Ji-ah’s chest ached.
Seong-min—the boy who had become a man and reappeared before her—spoke with such sincerity that, more than joy, her heart simply hurt too much.