I'm a Total Fan!
To cut straight to the point: the painting sold for over a billion won.
I couldn't begin to judge its artistic merit, but when had contemporary art ever fetched that kind of money because of actual artistic value? It was all money laundering, every last piece of it.
More importantly, this particular work was the only painting Lee Jeongseok's late wife had ever made for him with her own hands. To the CEO of Cheonok Logistics it was more precious than any treasure on earth—and that was exactly why the guests at this black-market auction, who all despised the man like poison, valued it so highly.
And Kim Sejin, who had boldly marched into a place like this without the faintest grasp of how the world worked, all so she could get her hands on the item Kid G had stolen…
While the bidding climbed higher and higher she sat slumped in her seat, lips sealed, looking thoroughly cowed and miserable. Spoiled rich girl that she was, she had apparently waltzed in thinking a few million won would be plenty. All she managed to earn was a public humiliation.
If humiliation had been the end of it, fine. But when I glanced around, every random lowlife who wasn't there purely for Lee Jeongseok's belongings was already eyeing her like a hawk that had just spotted fresh prey. I could see exactly what was going to happen to her the moment she stepped outside.
She wasn't a stranger. She was even my college classmate. Pretending I didn't know her simply wasn't an option.
Why the hell did that idiot have to come here and make work for me?
I sighed and decided to wait until the auction finished. I still had business to take care of afterward anyway.
The black-pearl necklace that had once belonged to Lee Jeongseok's wife sparked an even fiercer bidding war than the painting. The painting itself wasn't worth much without the sentimental story attached, but the necklace was an extremely valuable piece even without the symbolism.
"One billion!"
"One point one billion!"
"One point one five billion!"
The price rocketed into the stratosphere. Kim Sejin's jaw dropped in pure shock at the unimaginable sums flying back and forth.
Final hammer price: four billion three hundred fifty million won. Combined with the painting, the total was more than enough to settle the entire Cheonok Logistics affair.
True to a black-market auction, every transaction was cash only. The money was produced on the spot. A logistics-company president, practically giddy at the thought of thoroughly trolling Lee Jeongseok, handed over a massive bag stuffed with bills. The auction staff ran everything through a money counter, confirmed the amount, and delivered the goods.
I headed back to the reception desk and approached the same low-ranking thug from earlier.
"Hey."
"Yes, sir!"
Whether it was because I had brought them such a massive consignment, or because he had nearly blown the opportunity and gotten his head chewed off by the higher-ups, the guy was now dripping with forced politeness.
"The winning bids for the painting and the black-pearl necklace."
"Yes! Right here, sir!"
"If the amount is short by even a single won, you're dead."
"I counted it multiple times! After the seven-percent commission, it's five billion one hundred fifteen million won!"
I ran every bill through the money counter he offered, verified the total, then gave him an order.
"Split it into six bags."
"Yes, sir!"
He packed over a hundred thousand fifty-thousand-won notes into six black bags and held them out. I shook my head.
"Hold onto them for now. I've got something to do first. Actually—give me one of the bags."
"Yes, sir!"
"If I come back and a bag is missing, or the contents have been swapped… you know what happens, right?"
I drew a finger across my throat. The thug gulped and snapped to attention.
"Yes! I'll guard them with my life! Protecting a client's precious property is our number-one principle!"
"Excellent principle. Wait here—I'll be right back."
Taking only one of the six bags, I made my way to a private investigation office tucked into a corner of the slum. These people specialized in digging up dirt and personal information; the job I'd commissioned should have been finished by now.
When I opened the office door, a cluster of burly men who looked no different from the auction thugs glared at me.
"Here to place a job, or already placed one?"
Even though I was the client, they spoke like they owned the place. That was just how the dark side of the city worked.
"Already placed. Job number 20240718-117. Your boss said everything would be ready if I showed up around now."
"20240718-117… Ah, this one. Good timing, Kid G. I saw you when you dropped off the request, but it feels like we're meeting for the first time. No matter how often it happens, that sensation still creeps me out."
The boss rose from the back of the office, cigar between his teeth, and greeted me warmly.
"Investigation finished?"
"Finished ages ago. Took even less time than expected. I nearly broke my neck waiting for you."
He handed me a thick sheaf of A4 pages—names paired with detailed residential addresses.
"No one missing? No extras added for padding?"
"Hey, what do you take us for? This business runs on results and reputation alone. Do we look like amateurs?"
"As long as it's clean, fine."
"And the balance?"
I tossed him the bag I'd brought. He opened it, eyed the stacks of cash, and nodded with satisfaction before looking back at me.
"Amount's correct, I assume?"
"Didn't you just say this world runs on trust?"
"Money changes everything. Boys! Take this and run it through the machine—make sure the total matches."
The other thugs blocked the exit so I couldn't leave. I could have escaped in five seconds flat if I'd wanted to, but there was no point causing a scene. I waited while they counted.
Once they confirmed the balance was exact, the boss jerked his chin at his men. Only then did the doorway clear.
"Come again anytime~!"
I'd sold the goods and secured the list. Under normal circumstances that would have been the end of it—grab the rest of the money and head home.
Except a certain airhead was almost certainly in trouble right about now.
"You bastards…! Do you have any idea who I am?! Get the hell out of my way!"
An unmistakably unrefined voice—belonging to said airhead—echoed faintly from a distant alley. I clicked my tongue and headed straight toward it.
I pressed my hand to a wall that blocked the path, turned it into a door, and cut a straight line through the buildings. Moments later I found the source of the commotion.
One girl surrounded by ten men, all of them clearly threatening her. She had ditched her mask the second she left the auction, so her bare face was on full display. Of course it was Kim Sejin.
"I told you to get lost! Do you even know who you're dealing with—"
"Aaah? And who the hell are you? Some S-class hero?"
"Walking in here alone like you own the place means you're an ability user, right? But a dumbass who shows up at an auction with only ten million won isn't exactly going to be packing real power."
"You sons of bitches…!"
Provoked, Kim Sejin slammed both hands onto the loose stones littering the street. The rocks spiked upward like thorns beneath the men's feet.
"Hah—hahaha! How's that? This is my power—I can reshape any stone—"
Her triumphant laugh died almost instantly. The men surrounding her had already hardened their skin into something resembling turtle shells and casually blocked every attack.
"Don't go thinking you're the only ability user around here! Anyone who wants to survive in this place can do at least this much!"
"Even if it isn't natural, heh heh heh!"
"Now then, how about you hand over every last won you've got? And look at that pretty face… After we have a little fun, we could sell you to a brothel and make even more."
"Y-you bastards…!"
Panicking, Kim Sejin lashed out wildly, but the men simply tanked everything with their shell-like skin.
"D-don't come any closer! Get away from me!"
Watching her backpedal, I stopped spectating and pressed my palm to the ground.
Tch. Never thinking about the consequences—whether it's the original story or this one…
My ability wasn't built for direct combat, so I took a different approach. A door opened in the asphalt and I slipped underground with ease. From below I opened smaller doors one after another, seizing the ankles of the punks standing above and yanking them into the earth.
"Gah! Wh-what the hell?!"
I pulled them in deep enough that both arms were buried as well, then kept opening doors and dragging the rest under. The thugs never even saw where the attacks were coming from. One by one they were hauled into the dirt until all ten were planted like human rice seedlings, only their heads and shoulders still above ground.
Looking at them all together like that was… a little gross, honestly.
"Which bastard's screwing with us?! Get out here right now!"
I opened a door and climbed back to the surface, walking toward Kim Sejin. She scrambled backward on her rear, even more terrified than before. My mask still hid my face; she had no idea who I was.
"G-g-get away from me…!"
"You look like you've never set foot in a place like this. Act tough in the slums and this is the kind of mess you end up in."
"Y-y-you think I'm scared…? I-I am the Black Frien—"
"Black Friend, Light Friend, save the chuuni nonsense for outside. I'll walk you out—just follow me."
The ten human moles started screaming at me.
"Hey, you little shit! Who the hell are you?! That bitch is our marked prey—you think you can just snatch her—"
"Is that so? You're going to lay a hand on someone connected to Kid G? You lot came from the auction, right? Go tell your bosses loud and clear: if any of you mess with anyone related to Kid G even once more, every deal with you ends permanently."
"K-Kid G? You were Kid G…?"
"W-we're so sorry! We couldn't recognize your face…"
"As long as you understand. Now shut up and stay planted."
"Kid G…?"
Kim Sejin's eyes suddenly changed as she stared at me. I stepped past the ten human moles and escorted her all the way to the outer edge of the slum, stopping only once we reached a stretch that looked reasonably safe.
"You should be fine from here on your own. If that middle-school syndrome of yours—Black Friend or whatever—still hasn't worn off, go play with the neighborhood kids. Don't ever set foot in a place like this again—"
"…Is it really… Kid G…?"
Suddenly she was using formal speech?
The moment she asked for confirmation of my identity, Kim Sejin lunged forward and seized both of my hands in a death grip.
"Ki-Kid G-nim! I'm a total fan!"