Chapter 54: A Glass of Soju with Warm Seafood Stew (2)
Chapter 54: A Glass of Soju with Warm Seafood Stew (2)
“Al’sheeeeeeeeel!”
“Chairman, please calm down!”
“Do I look like I’m in a state to calm down?!”
Raiga and a bunch of other small fries were clinging to me, being a nuisance, but I sprinted through the Underground Base with them still attached to my body.
At most, Raiga—an upper A-Rank Mutant—was a bit of a bother. The rest provided about as much resistance as dust motes.
“Who else is there besides you guys and Yumil? Does she have money? Does she have technology?!”
“We don’t know, Chairman!”
His talking back got my blood boiling, so I swung my fist.
Thwack.
A clean punch landed right in Raiga’s eye, but being a high-ranking Mutant, he endured the blow and grabbed onto me.
“Oh? So you can take a hit, huh?”
“I might not be on your level, Chairman, but I’m a combat type too! As long as I don’t get knocked out in one blow like last time…”
“Then try tanking this.”
Boom!
A short, sharp stomp dug into Raiga’s solid muscles.
“Gah…!”
That seemed to do the trick. Raiga exhaled a heavy breath and lost consciousness.
Magical Girl-style Jingak.
A technique where one focuses mana into the foot and stomps down to anchor the leg.
Originally, the purpose of such a technique is for martial artists to utilize their strength. However, since I use mana itself like a Martial Artist, I can pull it off with a bit of application.
While it’s normally used to create a pillar of support when swinging The Hammer, the impact generated by creating a central axis capable of supporting such an absurd weapon is not to be underestimated.
In any case, Raiga took the hit point-blank. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his grip on me loosened.
Did I go too hard? Well, he’s a Mutant; he won’t die.
The other Mutants clinging to me seemed to have been blown off by the shockwave from the Jingak, as there was no one left to hinder my steps.
I walked a bit further and was just about to kick open the door to Al’shel’s office when—
“What is all this racket! Has Yumil-nim come again?!”
An octopus-headed man, his face flushed pink, burst out of the room.
Instead of his usual suit, he appeared in a black robe with a staff in his hand and a multitude of guns held in his tentacles.
Battle stance, is it?
More importantly, did he say Yumil?
Caught you red-handed.
“Al’sheeeeeeeeel. You just said ‘Yumil,’ didn’t yoooouuuu?”
“…Is that you, Lee Ha-ram? What brings you here?”
After a quick glance and a rapid assessment of the situation, Al’shel turned his face back to blue. He hid the guns held in his tentacles behind his massive, bulbous head and feigned composure, but it was too late.
“You remember that incident recently with the Gray Crustaceans swarming?”
“It was a major ordeal. There was even a debate during our executive meeting about whether we should intervene. Well, they were eliminated in the end, though.”
Intervene, huh? Right. That just extended your life by a few seconds. Consider yourself lucky.
“I took down their leader and was unconscious for thirteen days, you know?”
“That is quite the tragedy. No wonder we couldn’t get in touch.”
The Octopus Head nodded as if he knew nothing, his face dyed blue, but I saw something else.
A corner of his face was turning black, and sticky mucus was dripping from his tentacles. It was a clear manifestation of fear.
Let’s probe a bit more.
“I woke up and watched the television. Something big was happening.”
“A Young Girl group retired recently. I was a devoted fan, so it is quite regrettable.”
Is this guy for real?
“Someone appeared on TV, and they looked a lot like me. Specifically, the face, the height, and so on.”
“A new child actor must have debuted. Perhaps your exploits are being dramatized? Hmmm. Hmmm.”
Why is he so eager to charge straight into hell? Is it a racial trait? He’s like this every time.
“But The Child actor’s name was Yumil. What a strange coincidence, right?”
“Indeed, the name of the clone Mutant we made for you was also Yumil. What a truly remarkable coincidence.”
‘Is anyone there? Save me!’
In the midst of this, he was actually using his tentacles to send a distress signal via radio. It’s impressive, but why does he always make it so I can hear it?
Realizing it would take forever to get this damn Octopus Head to open his mouth at this rate, I stared intently at his wriggling tentacles.
The one not holding a gun, moving with the utmost caution.
The tentacle with the unusually thin tip.
That’s the one.
I reached out and firmly snatched the upper part of that specific tentacle.
“…Lee Ha-ram?”
“This… is important, isn’t it?”
I gave him a bright smile.
Slowly, I increased the pressure in my grip.
“It’s… not… that… important.”
“Really? Tentacles grow back even if they’re ripped off. So it’s fine if I just pull this out, right?”
I kept smiling.
As refreshingly as possible.
Like a proper Magical Girl.
Like an ordinary girl.
As bright as a child holding cotton candy.
“Surely… you wouldn’t actually… pull it out, would you?”
“That depends on you. Five seconds.”
Five seconds until a Magical★Gender-Swap.
Biologically, being asexual is still a gender, so it counts as a gender-swap, right?
“It’s a tentacle I haven’t even gotten to use yet! Please, have mercy!”
“It’s not like there are any others of your kind on Earth anyway. Three seconds.”
If it’s something he’s never going to use, pulling it out shouldn’t make much of a difference.
The Octopus Head’s skin turned pitch black, his eyes darted everywhere, and his tentacles began to dance grotesquely.
It was the most panicked I’d ever seen him. He wasn’t even this bad when his main base was being raided.
“We don’t know that yet! Someone might come someday…!”
“One second.”
“Yumil-nim forced her way in and plundered every single piece of equipment we had for blocking the Management Bureau’s signal tracking! Please, spare me!”
You should have just said so from the start.
I released the tentacle and wiped the sticky mucus on my hand onto Al’shel’s black robe.
For some reason, I felt grossed out…
I didn’t grab the very tip, so it shouldn’t be that kind of fluid, right?
When I looked up, I saw Al’shel nuzzling his face against the returned tentacle, looking overjoyed.
Dammit. Disgusting.
I backed away from Al’shel as far as possible and spoke.
“Then let’s continue the conversation. You’re saying the reason Yumil hasn’t been caught is because of the equipment you provided?”
“Provided? We were robbed.”
Provided, robbed—it’s all the same.
“There’s no way you’d just get robbed. Yumil isn’t an O-Rank Mutant. Especially with you there.”
“….”
“Right? There must be another reason.”
Only then did Al’shel seem to give up, his tentacles drooping as he spoke.
“Please, come inside first.”
He opened the door and led me into his office.
I sank into the plush sofa, just like last time, and waited for his answer.
“Would you like coffee?”
“Got any booze?”
“I have vodka that I mix into my coffee.”
“Then give me that.”
With a sigh, he began grinding coffee beans and soon brought out vodka and coffee.
“I said the vodka alone is enough.”
“The coffee is for me.”
“Ah, I see.”
While I tilted the bottle and took a swig, he sipped his coffee in silence, seemingly choosing his words.
The office was filled only with the sound of Al’shel’s sighs, his muttering, and the loud gulps as we both swallowed our respective liquids.
Eventually, the liquids in our respective containers hit bottom.
How long is this guy going to take to pick his words?
There’s a limit to how much a sofa and vodka can keep me patient.
Al’shel, who had been staring blankly at his empty coffee cup, finally seemed to make up his mind and spoke.
“We were simply deceived by Yumil-nim.”
So what?
“At first, she disguised herself exactly like you, Ha-ram. Shamelessly, brazenly, she even rolled up her sleeves and scratched her arm, complaining about an itch.”
At those words, I quickly pulled back the hand that was currently scratching my stomach.
The Octopus Head’s cold gaze fixed on me.
Wait, no. Is that really what you think of me? I mean, I was just scratching my stomach, but still.
“Her outfit was a bit strange, and I could sense Otherworldly Power, but since I also felt the power of a Hero, I thought there wouldn’t be a problem.”
“No, the Otherworldly Power should have been a red flag.”
Of course, Otherworldly Power does leak out, but the outfit is supposed to swallow it all up so even the Management Bureau’s detectors can’t pick it up.
“I thought that perhaps Lee Ha-ram had become corrupted during the war…”
What on earth do people think of me?
First Hyun-seok thinks I’m a car-destroying maniac, and now this.
I felt a sudden need to ask people what their actual impression of me was.
“In any case, Yumil-nim swung her hammer and shouted at us to lead her to the warehouse. Fearing we might be turned into minced meat if we refused, we quietly opened the door for her…”
“Stop. So you got rolled. Is that it?”
I cut him off because I felt like he was going to describe me as some sort of arch-villain if I let him continue.
There’s a limit to slandering a virtuous Hero. Sure, I threaten people often, but I’ve never done anything that extreme.
“Yes.”
“Then how did you know she was Yumil?”
In that situation, wouldn’t it be more likely that you’d never find out?
“As she left, she stuck her tongue out at us, called us idiots, and hopped onto a motorcycle driven by someone who appeared to be her comrade before fleeing.”
Yeah, you guys got rolled in a way that’s very ‘you.’
This is the level of the guys who almost got wiped out trying to sell painkillers on a battlefield.
“Wait, a comrade?”
“Yes. I was told she climbed onto the back of a woman wearing a black motorcycle suit.”
“You didn’t see it yourself?”
“The ones who saw her off were the more human-looking Mutants. I rarely go above ground. If I’m discovered, I’ll be pelted with stones.”
Not stones, bullets.
Anyway, Yumil has another comrade.
Motorcycle. Black suit. Woman.
It’s Danger Rifle.
I had completely forgotten about her until just now.
I see, Danger Rifle is sticking with Yumil.
“Let me ask again. Was the only thing stolen that one piece of equipment for blocking signal tracking?”
“Yes. She took a large quantity, but we did not provide the Radio Hijacking Equipment.”
Then, by process of elimination, Danger Rifle must have provided it.
She was a mechanical-type Hero who specialized in weapons, so it wouldn’t be strange for her to have something like that.
“Wait a second.”
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts.
My House.
Park Hyun-seok.
Octopus Head.
…
Boar Disciple.
Han A-bin.
…
Black Motorcycle Suit.
Tap. Ringing…
I was worried she might have changed her number after turning villain, but the call went through immediately.
“Yes. This is the weapon specialist Hero, Danger Rifle.”
“Hero, my foot. You’re a villain now.”
“Master?! No, I didn’t do anything wrong—stop with the Pry Bar! I’m living a righteous life…!”
The scream from the other end nearly blew out my eardrum.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and waited for her to stop her panicked rambling.
Once the noise pollution from the phone began to subside—
“I get it. Is Yumil with you?”
“Yumil-nim is right here next to me! Should I put her on?”
“Put her on.”
I heard the sound of the phone being handed over.
A muffled conversation drifted from a distance.
“Yumil! It’s a call from Master!”
“Who’s Master?”
“Master Black Marauder!”
“…Tell him I’m not here.”
“I already told him you are.”
“%#%##!”
Profanity leaked from the phone.
“Dammit. I’m on.”
I’d felt it when I heard her voice on TV, but it really didn’t sound like my voice.
They say your recorded voice sounds different, but this was something more fundamental.
“What’s with the ‘dammit’?”
“Just let it slide. Why did you call?”
“I’ll get straight to the point. What’s with the radio hijacking?”
Now then. What kind of excuse are you going to make?
“Oh, that? Wasn’t it great?”
Huh?
Her voice didn't sound like she thought she'd done anything wrong at all. If anything, she sounded like she was fishing for a compliment.
“I’m asking why you did that without my permission.”
“Even if you ask why… there’s a limit to your current way of doing things, isn’t there? For the sake of justice, we have to make a big splash.”
‘Don’t you agree?’
A giggling voice flowed from the phone.
“To be honest, I don’t fully sympathize with your version of justice, but I can understand it to some extent. So, I took action based on my own judgment.”
A voice that felt absolutely no guilt. I remembered encountering this kind of reaction before.
It was the psychology of a child I’d felt while raising Linshua.
The actions of a child doing what they could within their power to earn praise.
…I see.
She’s still just a child.
“Fine. You did well. However, from now on, consult with me before doing something this big.”
“Sure, whatever.”
I couldn’t bring myself to be harsh with her after she said that.
“But, you did do one thing wrong.”
“What? Aside from breaking the legs of a Hero passing by, I haven’t done anything.”
So you break the limbs of any Hero you see, too. No, that’s not it.
“I heard you raided The Society’s Korea Branch warehouse.”
“I borrowed it legitimately.”
No, you scammed them.
If you were going to do that, you should have just legitimately claimed to be part of The Society and borrowed it.
“You know you did wrong, right?”
“….”
You know you messed up.
The confident tone in her voice had vanished.
“I’m standing right next to Al’shel. I’m handing the phone over.”
“Ah, me?”
A dazed, dreamy voice.
Al’shel, who had somehow brewed another cup of coffee, was staring blankly at the dust motes in the air.
“It’s Yumil. If you want an apology, get one. If you have something to say, say it.”
I tossed the phone to Al’shel and quietly left the room.
I’ve gone soft.
I couldn’t be harsh with Yumil.
Was it because she reminded me of Linshua?
Or was it because her words were, to some extent, correct?
Even I didn’t really know.