Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: A Very Painful Outing (4)
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Back when I was doing my military service in Cheorwon.
There was this one time when a meteor crashed into the base out of nowhere.
A person-shaped meteorite made of two stars—Two-Star—suddenly smashed right into my barracks.
I'd been suffering through all-day duty, and the next day I was finally catching up on sleep during my post-duty rest. It hit me like a bolt from the blue.
- Why aren't you following the schedule and are sleeping in instead?
- Sergeant Cheon Su-ho! I've finished my duty shift and am now resting!
Looking back now, it was really just a trivial question—not something to get worked up over.
I hadn't been slacking off from my duties or anything.
But.
Why was I so tense back then?
The battalion commander's pitiful gaze, trembling as he stood next to the Two-Star and stared at me, probably added some pressure.
But the biggest reason was that no ordinary person could dodge a falling meteorite.
No matter what excuse I came up with, one swing from the Two-Star could tangle my smooth military life into a Gordian knot.
Just like right now.
"Boss, the three guests you invited have arrived."
"Good work."
The mafia enforcer who had escorted us here maintained a stern posture as he left the room.
I'd figured a mafia boss would have dozens of bodyguards trailing her.
But in this lavishly decorated room, the only person present was a woman reading documents at her desk—no one else in sight.
She must be the infamous mafia family boss.
A brief silence followed.
Then someone behind me subtly tapped my back, signaling me.
Turning around, I saw Michael with a stiff face, urging me on.
"...Greetings. You need to greet her first."
His voice was barely a whisper.
Of course.
Taking Michael's cue, I spoke up first.
"You said you had some questions for us."
"!!"
I stared steadily at the mafia boss seated at the desk, oblivious to Michael gaping behind me.
The woman reading documents at her office desk slowly raised her head.
Her light blonde hair—almost silver at a glance—cascaded naturally past her shoulders.
She was shorter than expected.
'Around twenty years old, maybe? Hard to guess age by looks in this place.'
The mafia boss had a strikingly youthful appearance, but her presence was undeniable.
Especially the sheer size of her...
I quickly averted my gaze.
Her red eyes, inscrutable, watched us without a flicker of emotion.
Her gaze shifted to Michael.
"Name: Michael Dillon. Former corporate executive with Astra Group. While working in the secretary's office, you were pushed out of internal politics after your supervising executive's death and faced life threats. You went through resignation procedures and fled to Area 49 to preserve your life."
Michael's eyes widened hugely.
"In Area 49, you wandered the streets before settling near a grocery store in the northern old town district. You're suspected of doing groundwork for the organization targeting the homeless."
Corporate background, huh.
Yeah, that made sense. He'd seemed unusually knowledgeable.
"And."
Now she turned to Liberra.
"Corporate experiment—"
"Enough."
Unlike Michael, Liberra cut her off with an icy voice.
A chill raced up my spine.
Like frozen ice pressing against my nape.
The mafia boss stared at Liberra with emotionless eyes, then turned to me.
"Up to here, it's just an odd trio."
A smile spread across her soft, pale pink lips.
"But not you. Hotdog Man."
"...Pardon?"
Why me all of a sudden?
She resumed reading her documents.
"Name: Abel Anderson. But hacking city hall records shows the ID was created less than a month ago. Estimated to be forged by at least a Level 5 Web Spider."
Before I could respond, she continued.
"Records suggest you might be an escapee from a human farm for organ trafficking, but camera footage confirms you single-handedly took down Bogers, leader of the Bogers Gang, and most of his crew. In the process, the building exploded..."
Her speech quickened, pausing briefly at "building explosion."
"Bogers was a Level 2 mana user with illegal mana circuits implanted. Estimated combat time: under three minutes. Building explosion prevents detailed analysis. Circumstantially, the individual is presumed at least Level 3 formal mana user. High likelihood of being a noble from a central city family. Investigation ongoing."
A question mark floated over my head.
...Level 3 mana user? Family? Noble?
Keep it simple, please.
Too hard to follow.
But clearly, she was under a massive misunderstanding.
"...So, aside from the weird nickname 'Hotdog Man,' it's all just speculation."
She tilted her head, muttering to herself.
"Hotdog Man... Hmm, wonder how that stuck. Tying people up tight for a lynching, like stuffing a hotdog? Curious. Doesn't seem like it'd come from just sharing some food."
That's exactly it.
Who else lives as kindly as me?
But before I could answer, she pressed a button on her desk.
A holographic video popped up above it.
And there...
"...That's me?"
I muttered without thinking.
It was footage of my actions from entering the party hall onward, playing back continuously.
[Heh—.]
Like after Michael's advice to loosen my expression, walking around with just my lips curved up.
[...Ta-da.]
Or showing the disappearing tooth trick, then shrugging nonchalantly.
[......]
Or silently carving up a huge pig with a knife and stacking it mountain-high on plates—a bizarre sight.
From a third-person view, I looked like a total lunatic.
Especially in that garish outfit.
Guess that's how I came across.
I felt a bit embarrassed.
The mafia boss, fingers interlaced, leaned on her desk.
Her eyes brimmed with intense curiosity.
"Just what is your deal?"
"Even you'd have to admit this footage leaves room for misunderstanding..."
"You've got a talent for complicating 'figure it out yourself.'"
She had a knack for twisting sincere words.
Her red eyes flickered like flames.
She sank into her luxurious leather chair.
"My name is Luciana. Current boss of the Sparo Rapido Family. Don't call me Godfather or Godmother. Makes me sound old."
Mafia family bosses are typically called "Godfather."
But she clearly disliked the title.
"We're not even in the same outfit, so no need for 'Boss.' Just call me by name."
"Got it. Luciana."
I nodded and replied. Luciana smiled, satisfied.
"Pretty natural attitude. Boosts the odds you're from a central family."
"...I'm really not."
But I couldn't reveal the truth.
That I just fell into a game, and during treatment for my injuries, my personality got bolder for some unknown reason.
They'd think I was truly insane...
"Anyway, taking out the soon-to-vanish Bogers Gang yourself was odd enough. And at the party, getting dragged into needless trouble without drawing blood."
"There was blood."
"But no kills."
Ah.
Typical mafia boss mindset.
Pretty open-minded.
For some reason, she now looked at us with a pleased expression, unlike before.
"You know? Mafia history. We started as vigilantes protecting people."
"...Think I've heard that somewhere."
"Really? It's obscure info, hard to find even on the cyber web. You know your stuff."
Probably from a quick Google or Namu Wiki.
"Unlike those 'filthy bastard scum,' you seem to know some lines. That's why I called you. Rare these days for outfits to keep any."
"...?"
I didn't follow the sudden tangent.
Why bring up vigilantes? What lines?
Luciana rested her chin on her hand.
"Meaning I like you guys a lot. Enough to see your faces often."
...Would interest from a mafia boss really help us?
I glanced back to check.
Liberra glared at Luciana with her usual stoic face. Michael forced a poker face, but his palms were sweaty.
I nodded as casually as possible.
"Maybe we'll get the chance. Truth is, we're not some organization—"
Then.
Bang!!
Someone burst through the door.
Not the one we entered, but a small door behind Luciana.
"S-Save me!!"
He was covered head to toe in blood.
Broken joints and black conductive fluid leaked from his face.
Luciana sighed lightly and turned.
"Tch, I said hold him tight."
"Sorry, Boss."
The enforcer who entered bowed.
What the hell was this?
Luciana stood and approached the bloodied man.
"Don't misunderstand. Makes us look like we're torturing innocents."
"......"
Wasn't that it?
Luciana casually took a pistol from her subordinate.
And.
Bang-!
The ejected shell casing flew as the man's groans cut short.
She handed the smoking pistol back and walked slowly toward us.
As if she'd just swept up some floor trash.
"I mentioned in the meeting earlier. Sudden schedule change."
"...Yes, ma'am."
I straightened my back a bit more.
"This is it. Some 'filthy bastard outfit' sent regards. Timed perfectly with our meeting."
Luciana manipulated the hologram.
It showed white-clad intruders breaching the mansion.
A shootout ensued.
No wonder the soundproofing was top-notch.
While we'd waited three hours inside, a war had raged outside with bullets flying.
That was just "regards"?
I hadn't grasped how fierce Area 49's turf wars were.
"They sent greetings, so we return the courtesy."
The hologram ended.
A massive screen projected across one wall.
Not a simple beam projector—the image writhed in 3D.
...A huge factory complex?
"Blow it."
A faint heat tinged Luciana's face.
Even a subtle thrill.
And.
[KABOOOM!!!]
The screen flooded red.
Falling embers and erupting smoke.
The blast was so massive, the screen glitched out.
"...Fireworks are the best."
Attacked once?
Blow up their factory.
Odd calculus, but hard to argue with the one who did it.
The silence didn't last.
Luciana, shuddering faintly, looked back at us with her prior listless expression.
But faint flames still danced in her eyes.
"So, what were we talking about?"
I swallowed my words.
No telling how this capricious mafia boss might react.
"...Well."
"Well?"
I swallowed.
Cautiously, I gave a thumbs-up.
"Art is, after all, an explosion."
Luciana smiled, satisfied with my answer.