I'm Not That Kind of Person (5)
"Hmmm!"
Myeong Gi-sa's eyes sharpened as he stared at the anchor, now just about 100 meters away. Sweat drenched his forehead after sprinting for tens of minutes with his middle-aged body, and his clothes were smeared with grease from the heavy machinery he'd been riding, but his gaze pierced the anchor fiercely.
Having quickly analyzed the problem, Myeong Gi-sa clicked his tongue.
"It's a layered mess. Kang A-ram, right? Thanks to your subordinate stopping the heavy machinery, we've secured a path, but the anchor's reaching its limit."
"I need a precise explanation."
Please.
Seo Han-gyeol prayed desperately inside. This guy rattled off specialized knowledge Han-gyeol had never heard of in his life. Even useless chatter could be brushed off with "I see, keep it up," but when an expert said it, it stuck in your mind.
Myeong Gi-sa finally realized Han-gyeol wasn't in the field and looked sheepish.
"Sorry about that. You had the same vibe as my buddies, so I mistakenly thought you were one of us."
"I understand."
He didn't. What vibe was he talking about? Did engineering majors emit pheromones from their heads or something? Whether today or back in the day, Seo Han-gyeol—100% liberal arts material—kept his ears open obediently.
"The mana engine inside the anchor has entered full overload. The suppression device is busted, so it can't shut down on its own."
"No other options?"
"Normally, we'd send an emergency stop signal from the external panel, but..."
Myeong Gi-sa trailed off, pointing at part of the anchor. Following his finger, Han-gyeol saw a gooey, melted plastic panel dripping down the wall.
"The external control panel's a wreck like that. Destroying the mana engine risks secondary damage. The only option left is a hunter manually straightening out the tangled mana, but..."
Myeong Gi-sa bowed his head in embarrassment. Elite hunters were rare in the heavy machinery knight squad. More precisely, those specializing in mana manipulation or external discharge were scarce. Most were body-strengthening hunters— so-called reinforcement specialists—who manipulated mana internally.
The fate of an organization born from manual labor...! A party overflowing with warriors, desperately short on mages or healers.
That was the rough analogy.
"Our squad's full of, uh, blockheads, basically."
"......"
Myeong Gi-sa, sir. Is it okay for you to say that...?
Or maybe it's fine since you're trash-talking your own crew. Han-gyeol was confused.
He steadied his wavering mind.
Get it together.
Plus, at this point, the bean sprout computer in Han-gyeol's head was grinding away with squeaks and screams. If he played this right, there might be a solution!
[Organization]
The power of [Organization] spread instantly around him, but Myeong Gi-sa just stood there blankly, oblivious.
I've used it so much lately, I'm starting to get the hang of it.
Han-gyeol eyed his hand, where he'd concentrated the ability. From what he'd figured out so far:
1. Objects he 'organized' directly became fixed.
2. The state persisted as long as he didn't release the ability.
Then...
Han-gyeol glanced back and forth between his hand and the ominously shuddering anchor.
Maybe I can maintain that thing's(?) state too.
Normally, he'd grab A-ram and the others and bolt, but this time he clenched his fists tight. Han-gyeol had his reasons.
First, by using the ability continuously, he'd experienced its unexpected side effects. A baseless confidence that anything might work!
Second, things were looking up. The crisis, once pitch-black, was resolving bit by bit.
It's solid.
Han-gyeol perked up his ears at the distant sounds.
-Kuuuung...
"It's dooooone!"
The rampaging heavy machinery was falling silent one by one. The biggest issue—the massive parking area around the anchor—had been handled by Kang A-ram's super carry. The unleashed monsters were being smoothly suppressed by the veteran hunter-packed heavy machinery knight squad.
A tiny spark of hope bloomed in Han-gyeol's heart.
If I play this right?
It'll be solved!
Of course, this one fix wouldn't erase all of Nebula's past atrocities. But with Han-gyeol here, basic cooperation was possible!!
Write a killer proposal, snag the budget, toss the work to Myeong Gi-sa!
And then sip honey in retirement! Han-gyeol, who'd internalized slacking off after just a short time at Nebula.
But he had excuses too.
We're losing money here.
This time, he'd join the budget review himself. Though his experience with accounting or budgets was limited to scrimping for months to upgrade his graphics card.
Just stand there with a scary face. Keep my mouth shut and glare—A-ram will handle the rest.
Now he had confidence that A-ram would sort it out somehow. Plus, with someone to lean on mentally, he was doomed.
I can see the angle.
This was prime quitting material. Imagining retirement with a new PC for the latest AAA subculture open worlds, Han-gyeol's resolve surged. In his mind, he'd already cashed a fat severance for a Mikaru figure and full PC setup—he desperately flipped his mask back on.
Cool-headed secretary! Cold-blooded secretary! Competent secretary!
Luckily, the acting worked.
"I'll do it."
"Yeah, yeah. We'll have to call the mana disaster squad anyway—what?!"
Oof. Look at that motor mouth. Han-gyeol jumped at Myeong Gi-sa's sudden outburst. But having started the act, his expression stayed icy.
"I can't go into detail due to Nebula's NDA policy, but I have a way to precisely adjust mana. I can do it."
Precise manipulation my ass. It was just yelling STOP & GO, but who cared. Han-gyeol bluffed hard.
Survive first.
Plus, calming the anchor was legit. After all these bluffs, his triangular conscience had dulled anyway...
"Hey, Secretary Seo! Are you insane?! Stopping a super-sized anchor's mana engine alone? Look closely—that thing's output rivals a top 4th-grade hunter! I get you're confident, but this engine focuses purely on 'output' with no finesse! Mess up, and you'll vaporize whole!"
Myeong Gi-sa blocked Han-gyeol's path fiercely. Han-gyeol flinched at the bulging arms forged from manual labor, but...
"I still have to."
"You'll die—"
"Who else can do it if not me? Even if we call the squad, it'll take time to get here. If no one suppresses the overload, the anchor will explode."
"......"
"And right now, no one in the squad has better mana manipulation than me. I'm the only one with a meaningful shot at stabilizing it."
"You—you?"
Han-gyeol smirked.
"The situation's clear, and my job's obvious. Why hesitate?"
"......"
"This is efficient."
Han-gyeol said it even stronger on purpose. His stomach twinged at how psycho it sounded, but he gritted through. A cheap ploy to score points with Myeong Gi-sa and cut compensation costs.
But Myeong Gi-sa's reaction was different.
So that's it.
His eyes widened in realization. The clues were plenty: habits born not from training but trauma. Obsession with promises. And crucially, those eyes.
An iron-willed man craving one thing, burning himself to push forward.
Golden opportunity! Normalize squad relations, develop Busan Oncheon, retire right after!!!
He was craving one thing, alright. The problem was it was quitting to live the ultimate otaku NEET life...
But his perfect psycho facade made Myeong Gi-sa's gaze do a 180.
The ghost of the battlefield.
A lone specter wading through blood and flesh, over dead comrades and monster corpses, returning to Seoul's lights and pleasures yet never sleeping easy. And now, that ghost marched toward death once more.
I have to stop him. I have to...
"Step back. It's dangerous here."
Scary when it's go-time. Even Myeong Gi-sa would call an ambulance later, right?
"......"
Couldn't stop him. Even blocking with his body, Han-gyeol slowly but firmly pushed him aside. Through his glasses, his gaze was colder than usual as he stared at the stunned Myeong Gi-sa.
Facing him, Myeong Gi-sa instinctively knew he couldn't block this man.
Even here...
Regretting what he couldn't protect? Why was someone like this with Nebula? Feeling fate's cruelty, Myeong Gi-sa swallowed his boiling emotions.
"...Come back alive. I hate digging graves with a backhoe."
?!?
Implying a grave for a perfectly alive guy! Han-gyeol's act slipped in shock, but luckily Myeong Gi-sa had bowed his head.
Han-gyeol tensed for real. Only after observing another 5 seconds did he relax.
Phew.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Han-gyeol passed Myeong Gi-sa. Inside, he thought: That anchor's one billion each, right? If it blows, forget severance—I'll be eating ramen forever paying damages... Nah! Stop it, they'll cut the comp and hand Nebula the contract again! Big win, let's go!
In every sense, a tremendous resolve.