I'm Not an Alligator (2)
As expected, the places where the elite live are on another level.
The deeper we ventured into Alligator Gang territory, the more vibrant the scenery became before my eyes.
Not ragged folks in shabby or worn-out clothes, but people dressed reasonably neat and tidy.
Guards patrolling with rigid postures, as if to prove they had security locked down tight.
They even had custom uniforms—must be a tailor around here somewhere.
"What do you think? Feels totally different, right?"
"Definitely different."
Did joining the Alligator Gang let you live in a place like this?
It sure seemed worth it. In a world where security had completely collapsed, just having something resembling safety was a massive perk.
Even I'd settle down here if I could. Sure, you might work dangerous gigs, but no one wants to sleep in a spot where a superpower-wielding thug could crash through the door at any moment. And this place? That could actually happen.
"Our first boss worked day and night to build this place. He gathered people, organized a vigilante group, and that's how the Swamp Zone was born."
"As a veteran soldier, he strived to create a sanctuary where everyone could live in peace. Peace is a luxury in this ruined world... but at least here, you don't have to worry about raids. That's peaceful enough."
In the apocalypse, nothing's rarer than guaranteed safety.
"What about the second boss?"
"Ah, his son. Puts the Swamp Zone first and foremost. And he's a powerful special-class ability user to boot."
A powerful ability user, huh.
Nothing more reassuring in this world.
With ranks from third grade, second grade, first grade, special-class, and disaster-class, even hitting first grade made life a hell of a lot easier. At that level, your powers alone could keep you fed.
Special-class? People scouted you just for walking down the street.
Disaster-class users were rare, and most ran their own outfits since they didn't answer to anyone.
Like Quaker.
...So, could I become a disaster-class ability user too?
Just like the original Quaker?
I recalled what Quaker had done in the original story.
Leveling a whole district with his ability.
Gesturing casually to topple a skyscraper that got in the way of his plans.
Smashing charging heroes flat because they were annoying.
...Every single one sounded brutal.
I planned to live quietly, so no worries about that happening to me... but it still felt uneasy.
They say shit happens no matter what variables pop up.
Even if it wasn't Quaker, someone else pulling that off wouldn't be surprising.
Bottom line: unknown variables meant trouble. Not fun at all. Especially since there wasn't much I could do about it.
"Boss-man, this is our hideout!"
Already here?
Lost in thought, I hadn't even noticed we'd arrived.
I looked up at the place. Not a high-rise—more like a dormitory. Kinda wild that a building like this was still intact.
Though there were clear signs of superpower repairs here and there.
I glanced at the walls with their unnatural color patches, then stepped inside.
"Pretty clean."
"Gotta tidy up when a guest is coming!"
"I'm not that fancy a guest."
"Anyone meeting the boss is plenty fancy!"
Fair point. You couldn't call someone sitting down with the gang leader anything less.
I nodded at the bearded guy's answer and walked down the hall. A bit worn, but spotless.
The sound of my shoes on the marble tiles—first time in ages—tickled my ears.
"Nice building."
"We fixed up one that was relatively intact. Walls are reinforced to hell and back—won't crumble from most disasters or attacks. A true impregnable fortress!"
It crumbled in one hit from Quaker.
Ah, but bringing up Quaker might be overkill.
The guy's got the power to flatten a building like this without breaking a sweat if he felt like it.
"Where's the boss?"
"Third floor, his office."
Figures, top floor.
I climbed the stairs with the bearded guy and his subordinate.
Clack-clack—the echo filled my ears when the bearded guy suddenly spoke up.
"Boss-man, we can only go up to the second floor. You're on your own from here."
Security reasons, probably.
I nodded, and he clapped my shoulder a couple times before heading back down.
Alone, huh.
Should I use my ability to head up?
As I hesitated between the second and third floors, a voice called from above.
"The boss says come on up."
A calm woman's voice.
I bolted up the stairs and onto the third floor the moment permission came.
...The vibe here's heavy.
People dotted around here and there.
And burly guys who looked like bodyguards.
Who owned that voice?
And... what would the second boss be like?
In the original story, just one line: killed by Quaker.
Gender... probably male.
Age: younger than I'd think.
Hope he's not a hardass.
Worrying, I stood before the office door.
"Boss. The hunter the guard captain mentioned is here."
"Let him in."
A low, resonant voice from beyond the door.
Older than expected.
The guard opened it, revealing an office with upscale decor.
And at the window, gazing outside—a man.
The boss?
"You're the hunter here to make a deal with me?"
"That's right."
He turned to face me.
A mild-mannered guy with round glasses.
Younger than I thought. Early to mid-twenties, easy.
"This might take a while. Have a seat."
"Thanks."
I sat on the sofa in the center and eyed him. He strolled over slowly, took the seat across, and extended a hand.
"I'm Kwon Hyeokjin. I run the Alligator Gang, for better or worse."
"Park Isak. Newbie hunter."
"A rookie bold enough to proposition me directly? You've got guts."
"Gotta be bold to make a profit."
"True enough... So, what's the item? I heard from the guard captain, but let's confirm."
"This."
I pulled the USB from my pocket and set it on the table. He picked it up, turned it over, then looked at me with intrigued eyes.
"All the info you mentioned is on here?"
"Yes."
"Mind if I check?"
"Go ahead."
I watched as he plugged it into the computer on his desk and scanned the files.
He nodded a few times, then returned to his seat.
"Military maps and blueprints, as you said. How'd you find this stuff?"
"Past the Gray Forest entrance, there's a dollhouse building. Bunker underneath."
"Hm... intriguing. This could be a game-changer depending on how it's used."
"That's why I brought it to you, boss. Too risky if it falls to the Vipers or fishermen."
"Even in Seoul, they'd take this seriously. You figured I'm the best trading partner?"
"You're the only one I'd trust to pay fair value."
"Flattering me, eh? Ever consider I might just wipe my mouth and take you out?"
Test or threat?
I answered without shifting.
"Didn't figure you for that type."
"Ho."
Interest deepened in his eyes.
Green light for me.
Wrap this deal smoothly—that was priority one.
So, I tapped my temple with a finger.
"Bringing you that USB wasn't random."
Playing it cool on purpose.
Show weakness here, and I might get eaten alive.
"Interesting. Ever thought of joining up?"
"Not one to settle in one spot."
"Shame. Change your mind, hit me up—door's open. Now, let's haggle price. What do you want for it?"
Settlement time.
I voiced my prepared demand.
"I want—"