Chapter 34
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: The Fastest Persuasion Method (2)
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Gray buildings crumbled like the flesh of a leprosy patient in critical condition, flaking off in chunks of concrete and exposing their skeletal dark iron reinforcements in a grotesque display.
Modern Seoul had become a massive cemetery of dead structures.
But where there was death, there was also birth.
The warm spring breeze carried seeds of life, sprouting green even now in spots throughout the city center.
"Damn it, the weather's annoyingly perfect."
Even on the Songpa Police Station parking lot, cracked and shattered like drought-stricken earth, fresh green shoots were poking through.
In this ruined world, who gave a damn about that? As if mocking the fresh spring scent wafting through the air, twenty-two members of the disaster response team came thundering in, trampling the sprouts and taking their positions atop them.
They'd gathered on what was less an order from the veteran Dong-gil and more the whim of this outsider who'd become the new owner of the place. Everyone's faces were etched with dissatisfaction.
That discontent soon bubbled up as murmurs.
"The guy who took over from the chief is just some green kid?"
"Looks like they're trying to lay down the law by calling us together... Damn, between Senior Dong-gil and this crap, has Songpa Station hit rock bottom?"
"Hey, watch your mouth. Senior wouldn't do that."
"Heard he nearly died saving some rookie chick. World's gone to hell—nothing lasts forever. Guy goes through that, he's bound to change."
Disaster Response Teams 1 through 5. Most members, barring a few, were grizzled detectives from the criminal affairs division.
In other words, they'd faced life-or-death fights multiple times even before the world went to shit.
And after? They'd protected all sorts from even deadlier situations amid the chaos.
Dong-gil was a reliable senior, sure. But in the month they'd been apart, the foundations of this world had shifted.
Society, environment, culture, economy, values, morals, ethics.
If all that had flipped, how easily could idle human hearts twist?
The detectives, no longer quick to trust anyone, vented their pent-up anxiety and anger, ripping into Dong-gil and Min-jun.
Screeech—
The station's front doors swung open, revealing three figures.
Min-jun, Dong-gil, and So-hee stepped out armed, facing the piercing glares from dozens without flinching, heads held high.
Confirming everyone was there, Dong-gil stepped forward first and bellowed.
"You all know this place is now 'Songpa Base Camp (1),' right? Team 1 already got the memo, but we're here to introduce the camp's new leader. Come on, say hi. Camp Leader Lee Min-jun."
Min-jun advanced at the intro, but silence hung heavy—no applause, just chill.
Iciness.
The blatant coldness they directed at him was a silent demand for the outsider to scram, chains binding him in place.
Yet Min-jun met each gaze head-on, shattering the hush.
"Hello. I'm Lee Min-jun, your new camp leader."
"……"
His voice rose firm from his gut, low but commanding, demanding a response in their ears.
But they weren't pushovers. They clenched their jaws, holding silence, eyes hostile.
Min-jun shrugged as if he'd seen it coming, expressing regret, then snapped the chains of their stares and strode forward.
Thud. Thud.
Even as he approached, they held firm like it was a bet where backing down first meant loss.
They drew close—nose to nose—but Min-jun didn't stop.
Shoulders collided.
Thud.
One by one, they toppled backward, unable to withstand his force.
He pressed on, toppling team members until he stood at their center.
"I know you all resent me. Makes sense. Some outsider nobody from Songpa shows up out of nowhere claiming ownership—ridiculous, right?"
Min-jun spun in place, locking eyes with each again. They didn't look away.
"I saved your comrades, plugged the gap when monsters poured out... Spare the petty boasting. You don't strike me as the type to care, or we wouldn't be here. So, here's a proposal. A bet, really."
He paused for a beat, then continued.
"Talk with fists, not words. Loser grants the winner's wish. Sound good? Uncle Dong-gil said you prefer that to chit-chat—"
"...You keep that promise?"
The first to break silence among Songpa's ranks was Kang Sang-cheol, Disaster Response Team 2 leader—the one whose glare had pinned Min-jun in the chief's office. His eyes burned with intent to repay every bit.
*Last time, I got careless. No way a civilian beats me, who's scrapped with knife-wielding gangsters daily.*
Kang Sang-cheol glared, reassuring himself. This time, he'd land a solid hit.
"Of course. Rule's simple: back hits ground first loses. Uncle Dong-gil refs. Right?"
"...Hmph. Fine, I'll judge fair—"
"Hold up! One more thing to add."
Kang Sang-cheol raised a hand, cutting Dong-gil off.
"What?"
"No items, no skills. Pure fists only."
"……"
"Scared? If so, use whatever—items, skills, whatever. I'll stick to fists."
Min-jun chuckled at the taunt, grinning like a kid with a new toy.
"Nah, let's do it."
Thud.
Min-jun unslung his dark greatsword and dropped it.
The already cracked asphalt splintered further.
Kang Sang-cheol inwardly cheered at the acceptance. That sword had bugged him; he'd tossed out the idea casually, never expecting the kid to agree.
Sure, by size and implied weight, it was probably just for show. But better to eliminate variables.
*Hah, young punk got hot-headed and bit. You're done—repeat after me, asshole.*
As Kang mulled that, Min-jun began stripping gear.
Dagger first, then solid iron pauldron, breastplate, boots.
Each piece hit the ground, kicking up dust.
Gearless now, Min-jun stretched his lighter frame and eyed the team.
"What're you waiting for? Bet-taker disarms too."
At his words, all seventeen—minus Team 1's five—shed their items.
No exceptions by gender. If anything, the few women burned with fiercer venom.
Moments later, first-disarmed Kang Sang-cheol asked.
"Order?"
"Time's money, right? All at once. Let's wrap quick."
"...?!"
Min-jun brushed off the showdown like it was nothing.
His words and tone were plenty to enrage them.
"You cock-sucking bastard!"
"Beat his ass!"
Faces red, the seventeen charged Min-jun at once.
* * *
*Boss really drew the short straw.*
Watching his team clash with the leader, Dong-gil thought.
Like in the wuxia novels from his stakeouts, no massive lucky break meant no beating Min-jun. Hell, even So-hee beside him might handle them—no guarantee, but their life-or-death experience gap was vast.
Escape from Arktine. Mang-san High battle. Bloody training after. Trials in the crevice.
Listing them, it was a miracle he stood unscathed. Plus.
System insight.
Their gear screamed it: max level 7 stats, average low 5s. Bronze rank without qualifications, obvious.
No eye for gaps in position and power. At that comprehension, they'd need a thousand lives to touch Min-jun.
Sure, they'd closed the breach the others couldn't, so they knew he had skills. But lifelong brawlers like them? They'd figure technique bridged any stat gap.
*And that idiot Sang-cheol. No items or skills?*
He figured gear was the source—opposite truth. Banning them erased any blind spots for Min-jun.
Even with gear, Min-jun wouldn't lose, but accepting so readily? Consideration against overkill, plus nixing unpredictable skill variables.
Only he and So-hee knew.
As he pondered, the boss sealed it by provoking.
- Time's money, right? All at once. Let's wrap quick.
*'Damn, that'll flip their lids...'*
As predicted, curses flew, fight on.
Team members swarmed the encircled Min-jun.
Splash—
While stripping, Min-jun had palmed unseen dirt. He flung it at their eyes.
The wide arc of brown shadow scattered across faces. Half the charging pack reflexively shielded eyes.
Spotting it, Min-jun kicked off, seizing the head of lead charger Kang Sang-cheol.
- You son of a—
Boom—!
Before the fool's yelp finished, he slammed into the fractured asphalt.
Cue the all-out one-versus-many brawl.