I'm Not a Hero, Though (6)
"Damn, you fought rough. And against just one guy..."
The man grumbled as he stepped into the blood-soaked alley.
Under normal circumstances, no one would set foot in a place drenched like that. But today, he had no choice.
He'd been ordered to.
How the hell did this happen? Ugh.
Rattlesnake was a hunter renowned even among the Viper gang's lawless crew for his exceptional skills.
Famous for his vile ability to spew a poison from his body that killed on contact.
Regardless, that power had carved out a solid niche for him among the hunters.
There was hardly anyone as specialized in killing as he was.
Rumors even swirled that a bit more success would land him a spot as an executive. Yet he hadn't returned to the Swamp Zone yesterday—while his target strolled back unscathed.
That alone tipped off the Vipers that Rattlesnake and his crew had failed to kidnap the guy.
But they didn't rush into revenge.
If someone could wipe out mid-tier operators like Rattlesnake and his men—even if they weren't elite—gathering intel was essential.
So Salmu-sa dispatched Real Snake to scout how Rattlesnake died and dig up dirt on the rookie hunter named Park Isak, whose info was scarce.
And now, arriving at the kill site, he froze the moment he saw the corpses propped against the wall like they were standing at attention.
"Fucking insane... this guy's a real psycho."
Propping the bodies up against the wall like that?
Why?
No sane person would do it.
Real Snake gulped involuntarily and approached the corpses. With every step, terror twisted his face.
"This... this ain't right in the head..."
One thing he could swear to: no hunter did shit like this.
No matter how fucked the world had gotten, it hadn't stripped away every shred of humanity.
Playing with corpses like this was reserved for the absolute bottom-feeders of depravity.
Sure, the Vipers had their share of psychos.
But even they rarely used bodies propped up against walls as message boards.
Yet here were these brutally murdered corpses, leaned upright—and on top of that, the name Salmu-sa scrawled in blood on the wall.
We might've poked a more dangerous beast than we thought.
Raw strength alone wasn't that threatening.
It was the iron will to kill, the deliberate intent to send a warning.
The body with dozens of holes punched through its face... the one half-melted by poison eating its skin... and Rattlesnake, dead with something pierced clean through his forehead.
Did this bastard blab?
Salmu-sa.
Only a tiny circle knew that name; no outsider should.
Real Snake had no choice but to conclude Rattlesnake had spilled it to this guy.
It made sense.
No one would suspect their target was possessed.
Decision made, Real Snake laid the bodies flat, covered their heads with their clothes, paid his respects, and wiped away the bloody Salmu-sa from the wall.
No one could remember that name.
Poison only held value in secrecy.
"No last words? Rest in peace, then."
He wouldn't haul the corpses.
Too much hassle.
He left them in a suitable spot and turned away.
The instant he did, agony shot through his ankle, and he tumbled.
"Shit, my ankle!"
"I was worried from that distance, but looks like I nailed it. Lucky."
"You... you're..."
I confirmed he went the other way?
How the hell was he here?
Before the question could resolve, Park Isak squatted in front of him, ankle shattered and immobile.
"You think you can pull this shit and walk away?"
"Hm—well, to survive, I can't hesitate either."
Steel ball.
One sat perched on his index finger.
Real Snake's gaze locked onto it instinctively.
He'd pieced together that this tiny thing on the finger had shredded Rattlesnake and his crew.
Isak spoke, the attraction force pinning the ball to his fingertip.
"Why's Salmu-sa gunning for me? I just roughed up some low-level punks in your turf. No clue why you're sending assassins over it."
All he'd done was school some grunts.
This reaction was overkill.
So Isak had to wonder.
Real Snake forced a sneer. "Ha... you start shit with the Vipers and think it'll blow over quietly? Especially after snatching one of our raised kids?"
"Raised kid..."
Isak's eyes flashed.
Damn intriguing from his angle.
I knew she was Swamp Zone-born, but tangled deeper with the Vipers than I thought.
Seolhwa's origins.
Fresh info, even for him—the villain who menaced the protagonist in one arc.
And maybe insight into the Vipers, original punching bags in the story.
But... the key is they're targeting me.
The story's villain faction after him.
With Mina and Seolhwa in tow, he couldn't risk Seoul's slums.
He had to sever this Viper grudge here, somehow.
Am I the movie hero, blowing this up too big?
Still, when you strike, strike hard.
That was survival in this hellhole world.
"No other intel?"
"Like I'd tell you shit—argh!"
The steel ball vanished from his fingertip.
It reappeared inside Real Snake's leg.
"F-fuck—"
Both legs pulverized, he spat curses and collapsed.
Without someone carrying him, he'd never limp back to the Swamp Zone.
His life hung by a thread.
C-crazy fuck, no hesitation...
Isak's face stayed serene as he wrecked both legs. Too peaceful for a man who'd killed four and was lining up number five.
Real Snake's skin crawled at that bored, almost languid stare.
This guy's... the real deal! For real!
The worst enemy type had shown up for the Vipers.
"Not talking? Bye, then."
As the words ended, the steel ball on his finger vanished like magic.
Kids would've marveled.
But the result was anything but boring.
"Fuck... you... Salmu-sa... will kill you... your playthings too..."
"Playthings? Cute."
Isak shot back irritably, eyes complex on the fresh corpse drowning in its own blood, heart perforated.
A body he'd made.
...This is why I feel like a psycho.
I rifled through the fifth body's pockets for loot.
A map, a small knife, and a badge etched with a threatening snake.
Nothing special, but the badge might come in handy somewhere. Better pocket it.
I dumped his useless crap in a corner and hid the corpse in the shadows.
To buy time.
No telling if they'd send another searcher, but if they did, delaying them even a little worked in my favor.
So this kill was unavoidable.
Still, the grimy aftertaste of taking a life gnawed at me.
Couldn't I just lay low till they lost interest?
Did I really need to kill?
...No.
With Mina and Seolhwa around, no way in hell.
No other fighters but me—I had to step up fierce.
Push hard and you might break, but I'd break them first.
Their heads.
"Might as well uproot them while I'm at it..." Possible or not, they wouldn't drop me easy. Time to show 'em.
Mess with me, pay big.
But for now, hunter mode.
Gotta eat.
I stepped into the ruins.