Leon Mask, the Dark Hero
html, body { margin:0; padding:0; } CEO: GeumTaeyang14
Police are still unable to even identify a suspect in the recent serial assault cases occurring in Jinglebell City. The fact that they can't pinpoint a brazen criminal responsible for a whopping 67 incidents in just one month is clear proof of blatant police incompetence…
Jun-man scratched his head furiously and asked,
"Leon Mask? Is that what they're calling this bastard?"
"Yeah. All we know about his appearance is that he's a tall guy wearing a lion mask. Not even sure if it's a guy, though."
Jun-man let out a deep sigh and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. When his gut was burning like this, he needed a smoke to calm his nerves. He'd been lighting up more often lately.
"Fuck. A assault punk like this getting fanboys online. Shit, our country's really hit rock bottom."
"Well, I get it. The targets Leon Mask picks are all that type. Ex-cons, notorious local punks, loan sharks with sky-high interest… People love that shit."
Jun-man shot Geun-sik a sharp glare at his words.
"Hey, you little shit. No matter what the idiots online say, you're a cop—you can't talk like that. Forgot already? This ain't just some simple assaulter. In the department store case, he raped four women. With the loan shark, he beat the guy and robbed the mansion. And that delinquent he assaulted? Kid ended up in ICU for two days and died. I can't figure out why the media isn't calling this a serial murder spree."
"But the rape victims actually wanted the investigation closed. The loan shark turned out to have built his fortune on illegal high-interest loans for ten years—drove five ordinary folks to suicide. And the dead delinquent? Raped a classmate back in middle school, got her pregnant, then walked free on mental incompetence grounds. Total trash."
Geun-sik didn't back down an inch. The more they investigated, the clearer it became why people were obsessed with Leon Mask.
He was a dark hero scratching society's itch. Or at least, that's how most saw him. People always crave heroes.
A dark hero hunting the villains that flawed laws and systems miss. That's how the media painted Leon Mask.
But Geun-sik growled at his junior like a tiger.
"Listen up, you punk. If you wanna keep eating cop chow, get this straight. No matter how shitty some bastard is, we're not the judges. Not you, not me, and sure as hell not that neon-masked dickhead. That's for the old judges who busted their asses studying since school. You gonna stab your cheating wife? Me beat our thieving son with a stick? That how society's supposed to run?"
"Uh… no, it wouldn't. But did you have to use such a depressing example?"
"'Cause you're spewing bullshit! Anyway, that Leon Mask fucker's probably aiming for exactly that—naive punks like you worshipping him. Smart little shit, ain't he?"
He spat on the ground as he spoke. A yellow glob stained the pavement.
"Our job's to catch the bastard and throw him in a cage. Got it?"
"Yes, sir. But how?"
"Fuck if I know, punk."
Jun-man turned away. No leads in sight, no clue how to proceed. That's when a man caught his eye.
'Huh?'
A delinquent type with bleach-blond hair. Normally, he'd just peg him as a standard punk, but things were different now. These days, the flashy bad guys were the most endangered. Leon Mask's prime targets.
He was about to warn the guy when his gut twisted. His cop instincts, honed over years, had cracked plenty of stalled cases. Jun-man tailed him on instinct.
"Boss?"
"Shut your trap and beat it. You'll get us made for sure."
"Who're you tailing? That blond punk-looking dude?"
"Yeah. Get ready to roll when I radio. My gut's screaming."
Jun-man tapped his temple. He split from Geun-sik and shadowed the blond punk.
Cops usually worked in pairs, but sticking to rules like that meant never catching anyone. Jun-man's seasoned skills kept him glued to the tail.
The guy left the residential area for downtown. Jinglebell City was plastered with anti-police banners. Jun-man's mouth soured at the sight.
Wake up, incompetent cops who can't catch a killer in a month!
The punk smirked at the banner, like he was mocking the police. Jun-man's face twisted.
"Fucking assholes. Try doing it yourselves."
The guy headed into the entertainment district. Cruising bars in broad daylight? No upright citizen. His look screamed it, but Jun-man was convinced now.
'Heading to the pawnshop.'
Jun-man radioed Geun-sik.
"Downtown entertainment strip two. Clubs, arcades, pawnshops all clustered. You know it?"
-The place we raided the house last year?
"Yeah. Stand by nearby."
The punk climbed the stairs to the pawnshop. Tailing inside a cramped shop without getting spotted? Near impossible. But quitting wasn't an option.
Jun-man adjusted his coat and entered, playing the casual customer.
The clerk was reading the paper at the counter. He glanced up at Jun-man, then back down.
The punk who'd arrived first casually went behind the counter. The clerk nodded to him.
'What? Is that punk the owner?'
Just the boss? Jun-man scratched his head.
"Whatcha here to pawn?"
The clerk suddenly asked him, still buried in the paper. To avoid suspicion, Jun-man pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket—his wife's anniversary gift.
"This. What's it worth?"
The clerk gave it a quick once-over.
"A hundred thousand won."
"Hm. Pass."
Jun-man left naturally. His suspicions lingered. He memorized the blond's face.
The 'One-Shot Pawnshop' in Jinglebell City's entertainment district had become my new base. Separate from Jinglebell Middle School and Fine—serving a different purpose.
This pawnshop doubled as an info broker. Perfect for gathering intel on the city's underworld.
"That guy who just came in? Something off about him."
Park Il-pyo, owner of the pawnshop and info service, said to me. He was another pawn under my Common Sense Alteration Sticker.
"Off how?"
"Didn't look like he was there to pawn anything. You get a feel for it after years in this game. Desperate folks stand out—this place draws 'em like flies."
"Info client maybe?"
"Could be."
None of my business. I half-listened.
"Still front-page news. Leon Mask. Folks think you're some noble hero."
"Not noble, but a hero? Sure. Bad guy beating bad guys."
Leon Mask
That's what they call me.
I didn't hate the name. Being idolized felt damn good. One reason I kept up this childish hero gig. Though the real motive was elsewhere.
"Turning a legit bar owner into a high-interest loan shark, a tattooed salaryman into a local punk… How the hell do you pull that off?"
"Haha. Got connections in the media."
As Leon Mask, I was taking over Jinglebell's shadows. Some assault victims were real gangsters or punks, but others were just rival businessmen in the entertainment scene. Eliminating competition.
'Can't rely on legit power like Fine alone. Need the shadows too.'
The world's too rough for a clean blade. But Fine stays pristine.
Relatively, of course. Fine was dirty from the start—tax evasion down to labor violations.
Once I took real control, I spun off the assassinations and threats into external ops. This pawnshop was the hub.
"Smart crews nearby are laying low. But if this keeps up, they might sniff it out. Obvious who's profiting from the assaults."
"Cops can't touch me on hunches alone. No evidence. And public opinion's mine."
I already controlled 40% of the city's underworld. Most entertainment rackets here were mine.
Money? Irrelevant. Total profits here wouldn't hit 1% of Fine's. What mattered: disposable pawns ready anytime.