Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: 21. Retribution (4)
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“What the hell are you doing? Can’t you even drive straight?”
“What is this…….”
A whopping ten people burst out of the cars.
They glared at the lead vehicle with murderous eyes, only to freeze with bewildered expressions.
“Uh.”
It was because they spotted Young-woo standing in front of the lead car, along with Negig in the next lane and the patrol car.
“…….”
Silence suddenly fell.
But the eyes of the ten—no, eleven including the lead car’s occupants—darted around wildly.
They were gauging the combat prowess of these strangers who had appeared out of nowhere.
With their cars wrecked, they needed to extract some compensation somehow, but the opponents’ gear looked far from ordinary.
In the world after the Reset, even legitimate protests required caution.
Mess with the wrong strongman, and your head could roll.
Especially in a situation like this, where they’d have to push a bit unreasonably.
“Um… sir.”
Finally, a man who seemed to be the leader of the eleven spoke up cautiously.
He’d decided to show some respect, figuring the opponents weren’t ordinary.
“It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you did block our path. You’ll need to make it right somehow. The cars are totaled…….”
Young-woo tilted his head as he eyed the wrecked vehicles.
“…Me?”
Of course, he knew exactly what they were saying.
But they’d been traveling with one lane completely clear.
If the lead driver hadn’t slammed on the brakes in shock at Negig, this accident wouldn’t have happened.
By any common sense, this was an internal matter for the eleven to sort out.
Shk.
As Young-woo silently shifted his gaze to the lead car without a word, the driver still clutching the wheel went rigid, holding his breath.
“The accident’s unfortunate… but I don’t think it’s on me. Carry on your way, or else.”
Young-woo didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone present understood.
If they still had complaints, they could settle it the old-fashioned way in this world—with a fight.
‘This guy’s got something, alright.’
The eleven’s expressions turned icy.
Part of it was irritation at Young-woo’s provocation, but mostly prior tension.
How strong did you have to be to act that bold?
“…….”
After Young-woo’s taunt, silence stretched on for a while until Tae-young, unable to stand it, stepped out of the patrol car and bowed his head to the eleven.
“We do bear some responsibility for the accident, so allow me to apologize on behalf of our group.”
It was an apology on moral grounds.
He also didn’t want to witness eleven murders right in front of him.
The law might be a sham in this world, but he was still a cop.
The eleven didn’t back down easily, though.
“No… words aren’t enough. And technically, this wasn’t even a contact accident, right? We need at least some compensation to call it even.”
Even as the leader said this, he kept glancing at Young-woo’s face.
With the power balance unclear, he was testing how far he could push.
Of course, if he were a thug, Young-woo’s line in the sand wasn’t far off.
“No compromise?”
“…Huh?”
“You saying you’ll fight to the death? If you were that confident, you wouldn’t be wasting time like this.”
“……!”
The unexpectedly hardline response made the eleven flinch.
And rightly so—this world was too brutal for braggarts to survive.
That kind of talk required real strength.
“This is getting…….”
“Let’s just wrap it quietly this time.”
Sure enough, sentiment among the eleven began tilting toward backing off.
Everyone here, as Young-woo had guessed, were second- or third-stringers targeting monsters and mutants in Gyeonggi instead of Seoul.
They knew better than most just how stratospheric the ceiling was for true “powerhouses.”
After all, Seoul’s First Swords were the very reason they steered clear of the capital’s monsters.
But of all the luck.
‘Damn… why does this guy feel so damn strong.’
The provisional leader of the eleven, Lee Jang-ho73, gritted his teeth.
He could sense the distinctive aura of a First Sword from the man before him.
Even though no title floated above his head.
‘No way… nah, impossible.’
He’d never heard of a First Sword’s title being hidden. Even if possible, there was no reason to go that far, by Jang-ho’s logic.
In other words, the guy was just a regular joe.
‘If he’s no First Sword, no reason we can’t take him.’
Jang-ho thought this even as he prepared to bow to the group’s mood.
He didn’t have ironclad certainty of victory.
“No helping it, then. We’ll let it slide this time…….”
Just as Jang-ho forced a smile and started to step back.
Vroooom……!
Engine roars approached from the road behind them—from the Seoul direction.
“…What now?”
As Young-woo turned toward the sound, the eleven, who’d heard it too, widened their eyes in unison.
“Oh, this is.”
“Ah.”
The eleven’s deflated momentum shifted oddly.
A mix of anticipation and apprehension.
Soon enough, a group of vehicles appeared in the distance.
Vroooom!
Setting aside the savage engine growls, their road usage alone set them apart from the prior eleven.
The eleven had stuck to a single lane in single file, but these newcomers claimed all four lanes.
And there weren’t many vehicles.
Just four.
‘Law unto themselves.’
Young-woo asked Jang-ho as the four drew closer.
“Who’re they?”
Jang-ho made a troubled gesture in reply.
“Looks like trouble just rolled in.”
“Trouble……?”
Before Young-woo could question it further, the vehicles screeched to a halt at the scene.
Screeech!
Leaving long skid marks on the asphalt, the four cars—gaudy foreign models, every one—stopped aggressively.
“…….”
Young-woo couldn’t help recalling the teenage thugs from Yeo-ju.
Their rides had given off a similar vibe.
Clunk.
The four cars’ doors flew open one after another, disgorging their drivers.
Thud.
Four men hit the pavement, matching the vehicle count.
Unlike the prior eleven, whose average age hovered in the mid-to-late thirties, these looked barely into their early twenties.
“Ugh… shit.”
“Hey, old-timers, what time is it? Why’re you blocking the road?”
The four young men drew their blades irritably the moment they stepped out.
Shing!
All armed with Early Birds.
One even had two.
Young-woo’s brow furrowed slightly at the sight.
‘Those are definitely the type who let their swords do the talking.’
Meanwhile, the eleven—who still hadn’t drawn—weren’t much different.
A few had hands creeping toward their sword hilts at the four’s arrival.
With fifteen Seoul natives now, it was only natural. Odds had improved, hadn’t they?
“These the problem?”
The four swept their gaze over Young-woo’s group, pausing at Negig off to the road’s edge.
“…What’s that?”
The same reaction, without exception.
Seemed even Seoul hadn’t seen an iron horse like that.
Then the dual wielder suddenly moved toward Negig.
“Looks like a horse? It’s actually alive?”
He didn’t even think to ask the owner’s permission.
Figured he could just overpower anyone here.
Or perhaps.
‘Deliberately picking a fight.’
As Jong-soo observed, the act itself might be provocation.
Either way, Young-woo wasn’t about to let some punk touch Negig.
Shk.
The moment the guy took a second step, Young-woo grabbed his shoulder.
Thud!
“What do you think you’re doing? No manners in Seoul?”
The youth whirled—or tried to—with a swing.
“This fucking—.”
No, he tried.
If Young-woo’s grip hadn’t pulverized his right shoulder.
Crunch.
“Huhk?”
Young-woo’s current strength stat: a solid 1,200.
No match for Seoul’s First Swords, sure—but plenty to shatter a random swordsman’s bones.
The real issue, though.
“Wha……? Whaahk!”
Contact with hostile intent triggered the golden seal’s pain infliction effect.
“Guhhh!”
The unimaginable agony turned the dual wielder’s face beet red, and the other three roared in fury.
“You psycho……!”
“Just gonna watch?”
Their call for backup went to none other than the eleven.
By then, the dual wielder spat through clenched teeth.
“You’re dead now. Know who I am?”
“…Who’re you?”
Young-woo’s attention had already shifted from the dual wielder to the other fourteen Seoul punks.
「Sense stat temporarily rises from 600 to 685.」
「Sense stat temporarily rises from 685 to 790.」
「Sense stat temporarily rises from 790 to 916.」
They’d finally united to attack the outsider, sending his sense stat skyrocketing.
‘Seoul lives up to the name.’
Judging by the sense stats siphoned from them, these fourteen ranged from hundreds to a thousand in total stats—serious players.
Strong enough to pick fights with strangers, indeed.
But they’d drawn the short straw this time: Gyeongbuk’s consolidated First Sword.
“You fuck, I’m—!”
As the pissed dual wielder ground out his line, over a dozen kill markers lit up in Young-woo’s vision.
“Yaaah!”
“Die!”
The fourteen Seoul swordsmen, resolve hardened, entered his range.
Clank.
Young-woo planted his right foot firmly.
“Raaah!”
He swung his black sword wide at the charging foes.
Whoosh!
The blade extended to five meters, tracing a black arc—and the dual wielder, mid-boast, clamped his mouth shut.
“Mmph……?”
Because that single strike had left almost no one standing.
Thud thud thud!
Lee Jang-ho73, the only one of the fourteen who’d hesitated, stood frozen untouched by the arc—while the other thirteen rolled as bloody chunks.
“Th-this…….”
The dual wielder gawked, mouth agape at the impossible scene, prompting Jong-soo—who’d been ready to jump in—and Tae-young, pistol already drawn, to holster their weapons.
Finally, Young-woo repeated his unfinished question.
“So, who’re you?”
Jang-ho, pale as a ghost, spoke for the silent dual wielder.
“D-do you know what you just did? That guy’s dad is Jeong Hyeon-sik.”
“Jeong Hyeon-sik?”
Young-woo gave a what’re-you-on-about look, so Jang-ho stammered on.
“You really don’t know? Jeong Hyeon-sik… Gangnam First Sword.”