Geumho Station (3)

The shutters had barely opened, yet the men already lost their nerve, screaming as they fled deeper into the station.

Kim Dokja clicked her tongue watching them go. Park Jinwoo wore a look of pure pity before carefully lowering the woman on his back—no, Jung Heewon—onto the floor.

With this, Jung Heewon is safely rescued.

"Ugh…."

A faint moan slipped from Jung Heewon's lips, still poisoned by the toxic fog. Park Jinwoo crouched low and studied her face; her complexion was clearly poor. Thanks to the Elain Monkey's lung Kim Dokja had forced into her mouth back at the convenience store, though, she would be back on her feet and walking around soon enough.

I want to carry her again….

Not the kind of thought you should have in front of a patient poisoned by toxic fog, but the time he had spent running with Jung Heewon on his back had been genuinely happy. The soft press of her chest against his back—ahem.

He was spacing out with a blissful expression, replaying that sensation, when a soft rustle of fabric beside him made him flinch and turn his head.

Kim Dokja had quietly crouched right next to him and was staring intently at Jung Heewon's face.

Is she about to use 'Character List' on Jung Heewon?

In the webtoon, he remembered, some troublemaker had interrupted the skill at this exact moment.

"There they are, those bitches, hyung-nim!"

Not exactly a gentleman, is he.

A man's voice boomed from deeper inside the station, followed by the tramp of several pairs of feet heading their way. Finally, someone shone a flashlight in their direction.

"Ow, my eyes."

The beam stabbed into them, forcing Park Jinwoo to squint toward the light. There stood a group of men, each gripping a weapon—steel pipes, baseball bats, crowbars.

"Whoa. Gangsters."

The classic gangster look made a line from some movie detective spill out of his mouth on pure reflex.

"Who the hell are you lot?"

The man at the very front of the armed group eyed them and spoke.

"Kim Dokja."

"…Kim Dokja? That your name?"

"Yeah."

"What's your name?"

"?"

The sudden question directed at Park Jinwoo himself left him briefly flustered. He hadn't expected them to ask for his name.

"Park Jinwoo."

"Who the fuck asked for that?! What the hell are you bastards doing here?!"

"Hyung-nim…."

"Bullshit…?"

You just asked me what my name was, you gangster bastard.

Standing beside Kim Dokja, Park Jinwoo stared in pure disbelief at the thug who had asked for his name only to fly off the handle all by himself. The other gangsters behind their so-called hyung-nim wore expressions that said they had no idea how to react either.

"H-hey! That woman…!"

Even the one they called hyung-nim seemed to realize this was getting awkward; he stood there looking sheepish in the suddenly tense air. Perfect timing, the gangster with the flashlight swung the beam toward Jung Heewon.

"What the—? That's a chick from the marginalized group. Weren't you guys supposed to come back with her?"

"Well, uh…."

The flashlight-wielding thug broke into a cold sweat under his hyung-nim's gaze. The leader seemed to figure it out and let out a snicker.

"…Ha, so that's how it is. Cute little shits. Knocking her up without hyung-nim's permission?"

"Heh, heh. Sorry, Cheolsu hyung-nim should've gone first…."

"…Grit."

While Park Jinwoo blankly watched the gangsters ignore them and banter among themselves, the sound of grinding teeth came from beside him. He turned and saw Jung Heewon glaring at the thugs with pure hatred in her eyes.

"Oh? This one's got a killer body too. Hey, you over there. Hand over both women and get lost."

Then I'll let you live.

"……?"

At Cheolsu's words, the flashlight guy swept the beam over Jung Heewon and then Kim Dokja in turn. Jung Heewon's glare only intensified; Kim Dokja's face said she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Do they even realize? If Kim Dokja felt like it, every last one of these gangsters would die right here?

Of course they didn't. The world had only just ended; they still hadn't learned you couldn't judge someone by looks alone.

And the timing was perfect.

Time to earn some coins.

"Dokja-ssi, mind if I handle this?"

"Oh? Going to show us something cool?"

Kim Dokja smirked at Park Jinwoo's words. He scratched his cheek sheepishly and stepped toward the gangster named Cheolsu.

"Huh, so you're not leaving? We've got numbers on our side—where do you get the confidence?"

"Ha, masochist bastard."

Right. That Cheolsu bastard's Sponsor was that hopeless masochist Constellation, Lord of the Riffraff.

Park Jinwoo's face twisted with contempt at the message from a Constellation who got off on watching his own Incarnation get beaten by someone else.

"You little shit, acting like you've got something to back you up…. If you don't run right now, I really will kill you."

"Sigh. You poor bastard."

"What?! You little—!! Hey, go kill that bastard!"

If only Cheolsu knew his Sponsor was a pervert who enjoyed watching his Incarnation get the crap kicked out of him, what kind of face would he make?

At Cheolsu's order the other gangsters edged forward, reading the room. And Cheolsu himself just folded his arms, planning to watch from the back?

Thinking about his Sponsor makes me want to go easy on the poor bastard, but the Constellations' coins and the beauties standing behind me say otherwise.

Just this once, let's overspend a little to look good in front of Jung Heewon.

"Consider it an honor. I'm about to show you the only martial art I've ever learned."

"What the hell are you talking about? Flexing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because there are girls behind you?"

Cheolsu clearly thought it was all bluster; he sneered and looked Park Jinwoo up and down with leisurely contempt.

"Says the coward watching from behind his little brothers."

"You bastard, talking to our hyung-nim like that!!"

One of the gangsters who had already closed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the distance swung his steel pipe at the insult to his hyung-nim.

I'll raise every stat to 10.

Spending six thousand coins just to push every stat to ten hurt, but thanks to Agility hitting ten he easily slipped past the steel pipe swinging at his face. Gangster Number One froze in shock, clearly never expecting him to dodge so cleanly.

"I'll take out the Glock 19 and the skill book."

The instant the words left his mouth a Glock 19 settled into his right hand and the skill book into his left.

"Nice finish."

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he admired the flawless black Glock 19 and the antique Western-style book.

"Use skill book."

The skill book crumbled into dust and vanished. He opened his attribute window, confirmed the newly added Skill: Shooting, closed it again, and turned his gaze back on the gangsters.

"W-what is that? Is that a gun?"

"Where the hell did he pull that from? I didn't even see him take it out!"

They had checked both his hands were empty before closing in, yet now a black pistol sat in his right hand. The gangsters froze, whispering among themselves.

"Ah, fuck! Don't flinch at a toy gun!"

One of the thugs who had been edging forward to surround him spat curses at the hesitant ones and charged with his weapon raised.

"Oh, consider it an honor. I'll show you America's traditional martial art—Gun-fu."

"Shut the fuck up and die!"

From the perspective of someone about to get dogpiled it was a weird thing to say, but the guy's form as he charged was so sloppy it was almost pitiful.

Park Jinwoo calmly watched the oncoming gangster and squeezed the trigger of the Glock 19 aimed at the man's leg.

Bang!

"Aaaargh! F-fuck?! My leg!!"

"W-what? That's a real gun?!"

"We're fucked…."

The gunshot roared through the subway interior. Gangster Number One clutched his leg and screamed in agony. The others crowded around to check; a small hole had appeared in the leg, bright red blood already welling out.

Their faces went deathly pale and they began backing away.

Guns really are the best. Performance guaranteed.

He ignored the terrified gangsters and examined the Glock 19 in his hand, thoroughly satisfied. Of course it was a consumable weapon that only worked this well in the early scenarios when everyone else's stats were still pathetic, but it would let him freeload through the early game just fine. A solid purchase, he congratulated himself inwardly.

"Not coming? Should I come to you?"

"Fuck! There's only one of him—everyone pile on!"

"Kill him!"

Whether it was wounded pride or pure survival instinct, the enraged men charged all at once.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He gifted bullet holes to the legs of the three leading gangsters; they screamed and toppled to the floor. The rest skidded to a halt, cold sweat pouring as they eyed him warily.

"A Glock 19 holds fifteen rounds. I've fired four, so eleven left."

And counting the ones who still had two good legs plus that Cheolsu bastard in the back, there were exactly eleven of them left, weren't there?

When he finished speaking and looked them over, every face had gone paper-white. Some were already retreating; others had dropped their weapons and collapsed to the floor.

He glanced past them to where Cheolsu had been casually spectating after ordering the others to kill him.

"………."

All that leisure was gone. Cold sweat streamed down Cheolsu's face as he stared at Park Jinwoo in pure terror.

Two minutes left.

"Hurry up and stick out a leg each."

I'll shoot gently.