Recruitment (1)
"Ugh, my head..."
Gripping his throbbing skull that felt ready to burst, Cheol-woo woke up. How many bottles had he downed last night? The quantity was bad enough, but mixing types without a care had been the real killer—his head felt like it was splitting open. Had he blacked out? As he racked his brain to piece it together, he froze. His sister's icy glare was still vivid in his memory, so no, the film hadn't cut out.
Just as he dragged himself up, threw on some clothes haphazardly, and shuffled into the living room—
"Gah! You scared me."
"Well, look who finally woke up. The sun's already high in the sky."
"Why are you here, sis?"
"To make sure no thieving stray cats snuck in. Why?"
"..."
Even so, watching over him all night from outside his room? He bit back a retort, clamping his mouth shut. Last night's blunder left him with nothing to say. If Yuri hadn't been there, he'd have fallen right into that pregnancy trap and been in a real bind. Even if it wasn't about getting knocked up, who knew what outlandish shit America might pull with stolen genes? Staying vigilant was the smart move.
"I get it—you're thrilled meeting all those people fawning over you—but keep that dick in check. Who knows what kind of ability user your kid might turn out to be, or if they clone you from your jizz. If some bitch tries stealing your genes, I'll hunt her down and kill her. Got it?"
"Uh, y-yeah..."
"You didn't fool around with those girls last night, did you? Grunting and groaning?"
"N-no, I didn't."
"Even if not, no handjobs or blowjobs—"
"None of it. Zero."
"..."
A brief silence fell. Yuri fixed him with a distrustful stare.
"For real."
"Fine, I'll believe you. Willing to hump some random chick who might have STDs, but drawing the line at outdoor fun... Is that stupid or noble?"
"E-enough of that. Let's grab breakfast."
"Sounds good. Any place around here with yukgaejang? I need a hangover cure."
"You drank too?"
"Waited for you and had some wine alone in my room."
"..."
Yuri sighed, rising from the sofa. Seeing her brother so cowed wasn't exactly amusing. But he was a guy, human after all—no suppressing urges forever. He should've been a world-class pro gamer by now. Instead, he'd become a debt-ridden butcher for humans, and now that fame was finally hitting, it was no wonder the high was getting to him. As long as he kept it healthy, she wouldn't nag. The problem was this city wasn't built for healthy fun...
"What's your plan from here?"
"Huh?"
"You're a war hero in America now. Why not settle here? They won't treat you like shit."
"Hmm..."
Spooning soft tofu stew at a hard-to-find Korean joint, Cheol-woo pondered. She had a point. America took in more immigrants than Australia, and they never shortchanged foreigners who'd earned their stripes. They'd probably give him whatever he asked for—but would it be worth abandoning the foundation he'd built in Australia?
"Gotta think it over."
"Take your time, then."
Yeah, that needed more thought. Loyalty to Australia's Secret Intelligence Agency? Not even on the table. In this world, overthinking that stuff just meant losing out. He wasn't smuggling military secrets or anything—this barely qualified as betrayal.
"Phone's ringing."
"Who? A girl?"
"Nah. Jason."
"Oh."
Satellite phone, and she thinks it's a girl? Cheol-woo chuckled incredulously and answered.
"I've got you, Director."
[Mr. David Min. Heard the news. You took down John Friedman?]
"Yeah. Things just... worked out that way."
[Congratulations. Just wired the 15 million dollar bounty to your account. Technically still pending from the US rebels, but I advanced it.]
"Oh. Thanks."
No need to go that far. The sudden friendliness was weird.
[Also, about that SMR construction firm. Got hold of them. They're in San Francisco and can start immediately—flying to Australia as soon as flights normalize.]
"Faster than expected."
[Yes, sir. And you've got a pile of medal recommendations, including the top one—most will go through. Combined pensions come to about 15,000 AUD monthly. Just... thought you should know.]
"Good news."
[That's not all, Mr. David Min! As of yesterday, a special law passed granting you special status. Previously limited to restricted military weapon possession and defensive use only—but now those limits are mostly gone. You can stockpile weapons freely and even use them preemptively. Think of it as treating you like your own private army.]
"..."
Was this guy always such a motormouth? Total machine-gun mode. Before, even simple requests dragged on for days; now they were spoon-feeding him without asking.
15,000 AUD? Roughly 13 million won a month? Tempting. He could double Kim Mi-young's salary with change left over. Not that he would, but still. No more restrictions on military gear was huge—bunker-busting with SAMs, tanks, aircraft? Lawless world or not, he'd be set.
"Thanks. You can go now."
[Yes, sir. Looking forward to working with you, Mr. David Min.]
Worried America might poach him? Australia's rival had inflated his value nicely. Jason sounded even more deferential.
"Isn't that SteelRain?"
"That Asian guy's the real deal! He said so!"
"Hey! SteelRain! Show me some trick shots! They say you're a god with a gun!"
"...Let's just go, sis."
A pack of drunks whistled and hollered from afar. Cheol-woo sighed, glancing back. After basking in the glory yesterday, it was getting annoying now. If it had been a group of women, maybe less so.
Everywhere they went, burly guys chanting "SteelRain!" Sobriety brought a flush of embarrassment.
"Why are they like that? Wasn't this crazy yesterday afternoon."
"Shot some clays at the range."
"How?"
"Pistol, 100 yards."
"...No wonder the guys are losing it."
Women wouldn't go nuts over marksmanship alone. Made sense that the first to spot him, beg for autographs, were these meatheads. Still, stray cats lurked everywhere, so Yuri stayed on edge.
"What the hell?"
Then his satellite phone buzzed shrilly. Not just his—everyone on the street checked theirs in surprise. A mass call to everyone here? Answering yielded only static. Hanging up, it rang back from the same number, nonstop.
TV screens on billboards flickered to noise too. Cheol-woo got it.
"What the fuck is going on?"
"...Electronic warfare."
"What?"
"Las Vegas is under jamming attack."
He scanned warily. Communications bandwidth crippled—intent on isolating the area. Hit them while cut off? Cheol-woo rushed to a tall building, surveying.
"Nothing?"
Desert to the horizon, no enemy waves. No missiles from the sky either. So who, why, what for? No clue. First, find the jamming source—he fired up the RWR stashed in his room.
"Where is it?"
"Here...?"
Surprisingly close. Las Vegas outskirts, police station. Their eyes met. No way a station had gear for this. He could guess the cause—or who.
"Mr. David Min! Perfect timing! Help me out—she needs a sedative, but she's too strong...!"
"Kyyyaaaah!!!"
Racing to the station, they found a blonde girl screaming her lungs out. Signal strength spiked near the interrogation room. Cheol-woo was sure: she was the source.
"Want me to help? Whoa?"
"Hngh...!"
Yuri rolled up her sleeves to restrain her—then the girl lunged, hugging her waist. The phone went silent. Rampage over? Cheol-woo exhaled in relief.