Chapter 113
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: I Said Shut Up.
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Yujin wished from the bottom of her heart.
That these damn flies would just buzz off quick.
So she could reclaim even a sliver of the bliss from moments ago.
“Ha...!”
“What’s this, little missy? You speak Korean pretty good, huh?”
“And your ears work fine too, I see?”
But her wish fell on deaf ears.
The two punks showed no sign of leaving.
If anything, they grinned like it was all a game, egging her on with more chatter.
“Hey, foreign chick. Where you from? America? Or maybe England? Got a boyfriend?”
“Why the fuck you asking that, dumbass?”
“’Cause the brand changes depending on where she’s from, you moron.”
“Bullshit, talking about the days white folks got sold as slaves in America.”
Whatever cracked them up so much.
Yujin watched the two snickering punks and murmured low again.
“I said shut up.”
“Oh ho? Listen to this bitch talking smack.”
“Hey, missy. You must not know the deal here—this is our turf, got it? And you’re acting all high and mighty?”
“Yeah, normally you’d owe us seat tax, passage tax, even a viewing tax.”
“What’s a viewing tax?”
“For feasting your eyes on my handsome face. Cough up.”
“What a fucking retard.”
“Whatever. Point is, you’re here, so pay up. Money.”
“No money. So fuck off.”
Her voice sliced cold as a knife.
The tone, like shooing off street trash, pissed them off. They scowled, brows furrowing, but soon switched back to sleazy smirks.
“No money? That’s a problem.”
“Yeah, we gotta collect somehow.”
“No helping it. You look like some illegal immigrant hustling for cash, so we’ll let you earn it with your body. Generous deal—one million won flat.”
“Damn, what a gentleman! So how much principal does she owe us?”
“A hundred billion?”
“You crazy fuck, go ahead and bleed her dry.”
Lust burned raw in the punks’ eyes.
The kind that’d make any woman itch to bolt right then.
“Third time. Get lost.”
But Yujin didn’t flinch.
She just issued her final warning in that flat, emotionless tone.
“Ha, this white bitch thinks I’m a pushover just ’cause she’s been mouthing off.”
Furious at the repeated brush-offs,
one punk jabbed a finger at her and bellowed.
“Hey, you know who I am?!”
“How the hell would some chick I just met today know you?”
“Shut your trap. I’m the nephew of the Baekdu Mountain Range Guild Master—nephew! Yeah? My uncle’s a level 73 high-rank player!”
“Aw, fuck. Flexing your uncle like he’s your daddy.”
“Jealous? Get yourself a marquess-level uncle then. Anyway, bitch, one word to my uncle and turning trash like you into a missing person is...”
Crack!
“...a piece of cake?”
The punk blinked.
What just broke?
Why’d his vision flip upside down?
Why wouldn’t his voice come out?
Why was his buddy staring like his eyeballs might pop?
It all hit too sudden for his brain to process.
Too bad for him—no time to figure it out.
Instead, a bloodied hand came flying.
Squelch! Crunch, thud!
“I told you three times. Get lost.”
Slender fingers gripped his arm, crushing bone and muscle to pulp as it tore clean off.
“Get lost, get lost, I said get lost!”
Those fingers plunged into his chest, twisting ribs apart and ripping them out raw.
“Don’t fuck up my partner’s performance! Don’t taint my soul!”
A frantic punch speared his gut, spilling blood in a gush.
Moments later,
no trace remained of the punk who’d strutted on his uncle’s name.
Just a mangled corpse, neck snapped back, torn to shreds—pitiful wreckage sprawled on the ground.
Splat!
Her rage at the interruption too fierce, perhaps.
She stomped his skull to mush but still heaved ragged breaths, far from calm.
Finally, Yujin’s trembling hands slipped her earphones back on and hit play.
Ding.
“Haa...”
Like icy waters from an ancient glacier.
The melody cooled her boiling head in an instant. Only then did her excitement ebb, and she let out a deep breath.
She slowly swept back her disheveled hair.
It was always like this.
Good music healed the soul.
That’s why she loved it so—and couldn’t stand any noise messing it up.
Especially if it was a tune from her partner that soothed her like this.
“H-heh, huergh!”
Thud!
Too sudden, maybe.
Or his buddy’s gruesome end shattered his sense of reality.
Frozen in shock for ages, the other punk finally collapsed, wetting himself.
Another scream disrupted the melody. Yujin opened her eyes.
She glared at him with eyes still glowing blue from the madness.
“Eek!”
Their gazes locked.
The punk scrambled backward on all fours.
He tried standing a few times, slipped each go, then bolted upright and sprinted from the park like a madman.
“H-help! M-murderer! There’s a killer!”
This park was their playground precisely because no one ever came.
Terror wiped that fact from his mind.
Or maybe he clung to a desperate last hope.
Yujin didn’t bother chasing the screaming fugitive.
She just watched impassively.
The punk fled wildly until he reached a spot beyond the streetlamp’s glow.
Shunk.
“...?!”
A knife shot from the dark, piercing his throat.
He couldn’t believe his death, eyes bulging, mouth gaping soundlessly before vomiting blood and crumpling.
The killer yanked the knife free with a casual tsk.
“Speak of the devil... Why the hell pull this shit right when I show up?”
A bemused sigh.
But Yujin didn’t startle or flinch at the random voice.
She just sank deeper into her headphones, toed the ground lightly, and spoke.
“What’s going on?”
“Tch, didn’t I say I don’t get English?”
“Don’t know? Learn.”
“Don’t say it like it’s that easy. Think I didn’t try? That tongue-twister crap just don’t stick.”
The figure in the shadows shrugged.
Yujin asked flatly at his cheek.
“Business. Keep it simple.”
“Man, cold much after so long?”
“Commander’s orders: contact risks tracking. Separate ops. No business? Leave.”
“Don’t get prickly. I’m here on Comrade Commander’s mission too.”
“Mission?”
Her eyes flashed at the word.
He took a wary step back.
He knew her dangers all too well from past jobs.
Thought she’d mellowed staying quiet so long. Stupid hope.
Tutting inwardly, he hurried on to dodge a beating.
“Plans A and B tanked, so Comrade Commander says special measures needed.”
“Plans A and B? Those existed?”
“...Yeah.”
“And they failed? Why?”
“Don’t ask.”
He shook his head and stepped from the dark, grumbling.
“We went half-crippled, got tortured and all, but right before success, some random fuck sliced our heads off. Ruined everything.”
“Random fuck? Who?”
“Don’t ask. I wanna know too.”
The beady-eyed young man emerged.
Ryu Kangcheol—arms severed by Wailing, tortured by Wang Gineung, slain en route by Rimon.
Far too hale for a corpse, he spat.
“Don’t know who that black bastard was who killed me, but next time I catch him, I’ll make it hurt worst.”
“Skip the small talk. Mission—what?”
“No point in half-assed schemes; they’ll see through anyway. Commander says go big, no holds barred, do whatever as long as it don’t interfere.”
“Ah, got it.”
Yujin nodded like it clicked, beaming innocently.
“Kill ’em all?”
“Comrade’s got a knack for boiling it down...”
“Thanks, but got nothing to give.”
“Not praise!”
Clueless or just ignoring him,
Yujin brushed off Ryu Kangcheol’s outburst and asked eagerly.
“So, op time? When do we move?”
“When? Now.”
To Yujin sparkling like a teen invited to a party, he cut straight.
“Right this second.”
“Now? For real?”
“Why else’d I come myself? I’ll handle cleanup here. Follow.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Like she’d been ready forever.
Out of nowhere, cleaners in jumpsuits appeared, bagging the two corpses and scrubbing bloodstains.
Even their ghostly efficiency didn’t faze her.
She just grinned, trailing Ryu, then tossed casually,
“For bodies, dump deeper in the park. Good spot there.”
“Was gonna anyway. How much you play here to stack ’em like mountains?”
“Just swatting noisy flies.”
“Folks call that serial killing, y’know?”
The punks never knew.
No other gangs showed here lately—not coincidence.
Nor that they’d share graves with them.
But Yujin and Ryu didn’t care a whit. They strolled off, leaving the cleaners behind.
“Oh, and crazy comrade—double-checking, no separate contacts, right?”
“Contacts?”
“Like met someone more than once, swapped names, numbers, whatever.”
“Why?”
“Why? To avoid traces, we off useless contacts early. Basic protocol.”
“Ah...”
Like it was obvious why ask.
Yujin nodded slowly at his puzzled look.
Erasing info skills, digital trails, even witnesses—that’s why they were ghosts.
“So, any?”
“...”
“No answer?”
“Nah, none.”
“Hm... Fine then.”
He never fussed over such trivia usually, nor her slight delay.
Anyone else, maybe—but not Yujin.
No way she’d mingled. And if she did, they’d be dead already.
Satisfied no loose ends, Ryu relaxed. Yujin fiddled with her neck-slung headphones briefly,
shook her head, and followed.
Her golden hair, once radiant, now matted bloody, whipped behind.
Liberation Brigade high exec.
Third-ranked among the 12 Wraiths.
The blonde woman dubbed Code Name: Berserker—back on the front lines.