Chapter 502: We’re Not Accepting Guests
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 502: We’re Not Accepting Guests
Justification, face, pride.
All of them were irrational and impractical, yet ironically, they were the first things one had to secure when leading a group.
Without justification, a group was nothing more than a pack of thugs. When face was lost, subordinates would start to harbor insolent thoughts. And when pride was trampled, the entire group’s solidarity would crumble.
Marco knew this better than anyone.
Once the godfather of the Moretti Family, which supplied drugs and weapons to the Third World, he had been driven to the brink of death by the betrayal of his own men.
But as if by a stroke of luck...
The moment a subordinate's bullet was about to pierce the space between his eyes, he was summoned by the Tower and became a Player.
A devout Catholic, Marco prayed at the miracle unfolding before him.
Of course, things like magic power, martial arts, and psychic abilities were like something out of science fiction to him, a man who had lived in an ordinary world. Nevertheless, Marco did not despair.
No, he was overjoyed.
Abandoned by his parents at the age of five and thrown onto the cold streets, all he had in his hand was three euros.
An orphan who could have died at any moment had become the boss of the Moretti Family by the age of forty.
Compared to the misery of his childhood, the Tower was nothing less than a land of opportunity.
He adapted to the Tower faster than anyone, using his natural eloquence to rapidly expand his influence.
The organization born from that was the Reapers Clan.
In the Tower, groups that committed illegal acts were classified as Under Clans, but Marco walked a precarious tightrope on that boundary.
Publicly, they acted as fixers, subjugating magical beasts and mediating disputes. In the shadows, they committed crimes like assassination and human trafficking.
They should have been designated an Under Clan, but a crime wasn't a crime unless you got caught. That was a universal truth, whether in the Tower or any other world.
It was the first and most immutable truth Marco had come to realize after entering the Tower.
In any case, the Reapers Clan succeeded in accumulating considerable wealth in a short period.
But that was merely a byproduct of growing the clan.
Marco valued connections and reputation more than money, so he always maintained the demeanor of a good-natured man.
The reputation he built was effective even in the criminal underworld, which in turn worked to the Reapers Clan's advantage.
After all, whether they were Players or residents, there was no shortage of people who wanted someone dead.
The Reapers Clan precisely tapped into that demand, and in the process, they were able to form connections with numerous other clans.
Recently, they had even managed to get on familiar terms with the Tower's nobility.
Everything was going smoothly.
He was certain that if things continued this way, it wouldn't be long before they could establish contact with the large clans.
Marco was more satisfied with each passing day.
Until one of the clan's executives returned half-dead.
“Hooo...”
Thick cigar smoke scattered into the air.
It was a cigar that activated the aura within the body and had the effect of removing impurities.
It was a high-end luxury item, on a completely different level from the cigars on Earth that one smoked at the cost of their lifespan.
For him, who had always clawed his way up from the bottom, whether on Earth or in the Tower, moments like this were incredibly precious.
“Why do you think that is?”
“...I'm not sure.”
“Because it reminds me of my position. The satisfaction and sense of superiority that comes from the reality that a street urchin who had nothing to his name can now smoke such luxuries without a second thought—that's what makes me feel good.”
Marco, who had been gazing at his glass of whiskey with a faint smile, suddenly narrowed his eyes.
“But do you know what I feel even more clearly than that?”
CRASH!!
The glass shattered, sending shards of glass flying in all directions.
As the cold whiskey dripped down his hand, Marco's blood-red eyes glinted murderously.
“It's desperation. It's a reminder of my resolve to never, ever return to those hellish days, no matter what.”
Flump—
Marco sank into his chair and quietly closed his eyes.
The memory was still vivid: chewing on bread harder than brick in the dead of a snowy winter, the pain of having to sear his hands and feet by the fire just to keep them from freezing.
At the time, the entire nation of Italy was collapsing due to economic recession, so he sometimes had to tear flesh from the frozen corpses of the homeless.
There was simply no other way to survive.
“...Right, so they've arrived in Tescarr?”
“Yes. The clan members lying in ambush spotted them with their own eyes and have completed cross-verification.”
“Our response?”
“We've deployed all seven squads that were on standby. And two minutes ago, an additional three squads were dispatched from headquarters.”
“Fabio.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Glug—
As a maid brought him a new glass, Marco poured whiskey into it and stared quietly at Fabio.
Even knowing the killing intent flickering in that gaze wasn't directed at him, Fabio couldn't help but tremble.
“Never let your guard down. And don't forget. We are not knights.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
After Fabio bowed respectfully and left the room, Marco was left alone in the study.
Quietly sipping his drink, he scowled and muttered fiercely.
“...Choi Taeho, that moronic bastard.”
Having lived a life where failure was not an option, Marco never forgave his subordinates' mistakes.
If he had his way, he would deal with Choi Taeho immediately—the man who had been blinded by a single woman, abandoned his clan members, and fled alone.
But the fact that he was an Apostle of a Constellation was a complication.
His forces weren't yet strong enough to antagonize a Constellation, so for now, he had no choice but to let Choi Taeho live.
“Hooo...”
He was boiling with rage just thinking about it, but as the leader of a faction, he had to know how to separate emotion from reason.
That was why he was planning to avenge Choi Taeho and the dead clan members.
A clan member had been murdered by an outsider, and as a result, the clan's face and pride had been shattered.
If he let it slide as if nothing had happened, it was as clear as day that the entire clan's solidarity would crack.
So it didn't matter whether he liked Choi Taeho or not.
Revenge had to be carried out, in one form or another.
It was certainly a troublesome situation, but from a different perspective, it could also be an opportunity.
Using an external enemy to strengthen internal unity was common sense that even a newborn knew.
Marco picked up the file folder lying on the table.
It was a document detailing the personal information of his target for revenge.
'Kang Hyun-woo, cleared up to the 9th floor in about two months, huh...'
Pfft—
He let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“That snake of a bastard Choi Taeho stirred up trouble, not realizing he was prodding a tiger.”
Marco was no blind fool.
He had already figured out that Kang Hyun-woo was a rather dangerous individual. The assassination squad deployed for this operation had been selected with that in mind.
The squad leader was a mid-floor Player, and the rest of the members were renowned for their skills on the lower floors.
A total of 42 people.
Starting tonight, Kang Hyun-woo wouldn't be able to eat, sleep, or even go to the bathroom in peace.
Assassins hiding in the shadows would be silently aiming for his neck.
And of course, the same went for the women.
“A tiger cub with no backing is nothing to worry about.”
Marco imagined how many days Kang Hyun-woo would last and smiled mockingly.
*
Late at night.
The lights of the street illuminated the city, which had sunk into darkness. People wandering through the night market were engrossed in the sights.
But where there is light, there must also be shadow.
Tatatak—
“Hah, hah, hah...!!”
A man running desperately down a dark alley kept looking back, even as he nearly tripped on a stone.
It was as if he were fleeing from something.
His terrified eyes trembled ceaselessly with anxiety.
The man was heading toward the building where the city's security force was stationed.
It was hardly a place for someone in a blood-soaked stealth suit, but there was not a hint of hesitation in his sprint.
In fact, one could even call it desperate.
What on earth had driven him to this point?
It didn't take long to find the answer.
Thud—
Something came rolling over and over from the other end of the dark alley.
The man stopped in his tracks instinctively. The moment he identified the object—
“Hi-hiiik?!”
Thump—
He let out a girlish scream and collapsed to the ground.
What had rolled toward him was none other than a human head.
Moreover, the face was familiar.
“S-Squad Leader...”
It was the executive from the Reapers Clan dispatched for this mission.
He was one of only three mid-floor Players in the clan, alongside the clan leader himself. A Player so strong he had no equal on the lower floors...
Yet there he was, dead, his face frozen in terror as if he had seen a ghost.
An indescribable horror washed over the man like a wave.
Step, step—
Soon, the sound of light footsteps could be heard.
The man wanted to run away immediately, but his body refused to obey.
“Hah, hah, haaak...!!”
Terrified, the man clutched his left chest and gasped for breath.
He frantically reached into his left pocket and pulled something out.
It was a cross.
“O-O Lord... Your humble lamb is here...! M-My life, my soul, I will offer you anything. So please, I beg you, save me...!”
It was truly ironic.
An assassin, who made a living by taking the lives of others, was now seeking God in the face of his own death.
“Too bad, but there's no god who will answer your prayer. They have their own tastes, you know.”
“U-Uwaaaah!!!”
The moment his eyes met Kang Hyun-woo's, who had emerged from the darkness, the man recoiled as if he'd seen a monster.
The way he flailed about was quite ridiculous, but Kang Hyun-woo's face remained cold and hard.
“You're not going to get far anyway, so why bother running? And here I am, having to do this without even getting to eat dinner.”
“P-Please, spare m—”
Shhhk—!!
Before the man could finish his words, his vision flew through the air and flipped upside down.
The inverted crescent moon in the sky was the last sight the man ever saw.
Without a glance at the corpse sprawled on the ground, Kang Hyun-woo took a handkerchief from his coat and wiped his hands.
The blood on his fingertips was sticky.
“Tsk, some bastards don't know the value of food, poisoning a man's meal.”
Tiring—
「The Constellation, ‘Dweller of the Swamp’, says it was a satisfying slaughter of your own kind.」
「The Constellation, ‘Dweller of the Swamp’, sponsors you 1,000 WP.」
For a moment, his mood was about to improve at the sponsorship message that appeared before him, but then Kang Hyun-woo frowned at another screen that took up a corner of his vision.
「You have killed 42 humans.」
「Evil (惡) Karma increases.」
「Evil Karma: 4」
“Hey, it's not like I killed innocent people! Why is my karma going up?!”
Kang Hyun-woo complained about the unfair treatment, but as always, the System remained silent.
He might as well have been talking to a wall.
Fuming, Kang Hyun-woo scratched his head furiously and left the alley.
The next morning, the bodies of several dozen people, brutally murdered, were discovered by the city guard.
When Marco heard the news, his face turned as pale as a corpse.