Chapter 58
Chapter 58
Black-Haired Investor Awakened as a Superman, Episode 058
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Real-Time Data Processing & Spatial Reconstruction.
This is the ability to synthesize information left at the scene and visualize it in real time.
The moment all the information from the training ground entered my eyes, my brain instantly combined it and reproduced the scene perfectly.
It was like rewinding time.
In game terms, it was like having a replay function built into my brain.
That was the amazing ability of this brain that I newly discovered in the training ground today.
But in the shooting test, another area opened up.
Namely, Visual Information Processing Ability & Hyper-Speed Neural Response.
I was able to track fast-moving targets individually.
Even when the targets overlapped, I wasn't confused at all. The predicted location of the target was so clearly drawn in my head.
Aiming at the location where the target would arrive and pulling the trigger.
The target invariably fell.
That series of processes happened in the blink of an eye.
My eyes and hands moved almost simultaneously. It was a speed that ordinary people couldn't even imagine.
I had never received such physical training.
Nevertheless, the reason it was possible seems to be not pure physical ability, but the overwhelming ability of the brain.
Analyzing the entered information in real time.
It would have instantaneously reconstructed the path of transmitting nerve signals to elicit the most efficient response.
In other words.
It is highly likely that this superhuman brain has optimized the neural network itself.
Of course, unless I get an electroencephalogram, it's just a hypothesis.
However, considering the abnormal reaction speed and precision that my body has shown so far, this hypothesis is convincing enough.
If I get tested, the results will be as I estimated.
In this way, my brain is doing truly unbelievable things.
While contemplating the new abilities of the brain revealed by the shooting test.
Logan's footsteps suddenly approached.
I stopped thinking and turned to him, saying.
"Shall we do it one more time?"
"It's already perfect."
Despite witnessing the amazing sight, Logan was overly calm.
Having been an instructor in the US Army Special Forces, there was no way he wouldn't know what had just happened.
I can confidently say that I showed him a realm beyond the limits of humanity.
But he didn't say anything.
As if he had decided to draw a line with me, like someone who had decided not to delve deeply―
I could guess how Logan was misunderstanding me. If he believed the words that I learned from YouTube, he would be a fool.
Two pictures would have come to his mind.
A combat machine created through thorough training.
Or a being born outside the realm of humanity.
Either way, it would be too much for Logan to handle.
Logan seemed to misunderstand that he would be exposed to danger if he got too close to me. But there was no need to clear up that misunderstanding.
'If he stays by my side, there will be many secrets to keep.'
'This would be a more reliable security measure than a non-disclosure agreement.'
After a while, Logan asked as if he didn't know.
"You said you wanted me to train you, but what exactly do you want?"
I could feel that he was genuinely curious.
There was plenty of information about marksmanship on the web, but that wasn't the level I wanted.
Military YouTubers glossed over the basics and ended there. The special forces videos I got from the Dark Web were just fragmentary pieces.
My goal was SOCP.
The US Army Special Forces' Live combat training program, assuming Ultra-close combat and Close-quarters battle within 1 meter.
If I also learn Close Quarters Battle, CQB―
Whether indoors or outdoors.
Whether armed or unarmed.
I would be able to have the best combat capabilities in all situations.
And the person who could teach that was Logan, a former US Army Special Forces instructor, standing in front of me now.
When I said this, he was silent for a long time. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something in his head. Then he slowly opened his mouth.
"I understand what you want."
He checked his watch and continued.
"I'll set up a training plan as soon as I get back."
"Please do. And……."
"Yes."
"Could I take a selfie with you?"
* * *
The cool night air of New York seeped in through the window.
The cool and humid air filled the car, but Logan was still unable to shake off his daze.
He was staring blankly at the cell phone in his hand.
The signal didn't ring, and the screen was off. But he held it tightly and didn't let go.
Like someone waiting for something.
'The training that Combat machine wants is not 1:1. There's no way. He's assuming at least a squad-level battle.'
Thirteen people. The standard squad of the US Marine Corps.
But that Combat machine wasn't trying to form a team.
He's trying to deal with it alone. Perhaps what he wants is not simple combat skills, but thorough preparation for solo operations.
'He's trying to get stronger in an already complete state.'
I had no idea why he was doing this through a private company.
'Is he trying to avoid military surveillance? Is it something that would be difficult if it was recorded?'
But what was certain was that he couldn't handle it alone.
To adapt that Combat machine, he needed at least thirteen people, including himself.
Logan organized his thoughts and waited for a reply.
After a while, a short message came from that Combat machine.
[ Proceed that way. I will provide as much funds as you need. ]
The Call sign was dropped from Hyun-woo.
Only then could Logan begin work.
He found a familiar number on his cell phone and pressed it. The signal rang for a long time, spreading into the darkness. Finally, the other person answered the phone.
< Sergeant? What's going on at this hour? >
Logan brought the phone to his ear and answered in a low voice.
< I have a troublesome but profitable case. >
< Troublesome though? >
< I can't tell you the details now. But you're not going to say no, are you? >
< That alone sounds like a shitty offer. Right? >
< The operation site is New York. That's all. >
Soon a low sigh leaked out.
< It's definitely a shitty offer. >
< No. It's a case that looks fine on the surface. I can't tell you any more. >
< That's enough. I can't afford to be picky anyway. >
< I need one squad for this mission. >
< …Okay, I understand. >
< How are the guys doing? >
< They're just twiddling their thumbs because of the Kung Flu. Can you believe the world has turned upside down like this overnight because of those damn Chinese bastards? >
Complaints erupted about Corona.
The current situation is a Chinese plot, and the WHO has already been eaten by those guys.
Logan listened to the grumbling without saying a word.
In fact, he would have refused this request if he had another option. But Corona devastated the industry.
Companies cut their security budgets first. Overseas mercenary contracts were canceled one after another.
Private Military Company (PMC) personnel were cut off from work and scattered, and each began to find a way to make a living.
In the midst of all this, this request came through Pinkerton.
It was a contract with guaranteed money.
Whether the client's identity seemed dangerous or not, there was no choice.
Now all that remained was to finish this job cleanly and safely.
* * *
< Thank you for your hard work. I look forward to working with you. >
< Oh, you're welcome. >
I pushed open the front door after ending the call with Jo Chief of SH Bank.
Silence greeted me.
As a matter of course, the house without Mom was quiet without a single breath.
It was still about 4 hours before Mom arrived in Korea.
Fortunately, Jo Chief said that he had finished talking to the Korean quarantine authorities well. Mom would have no problem going to Soyang's big house as long as she passed the PCR test safely.
I walked into the living room like a zombie. Then I threw myself onto the sofa.
'I thought I would feel this tired tomorrow morning.'
"Hoo-"
I took a breath and opened the photo I took with Logan on my phone.
Logan with his expressionless face and me awkwardly smiling next to him.
I tapped the photo and attached it to the message window. I wrote a few words and sent it.
[ (Photo) My new bodyguard, Logan. Contact me when you arrive safely. Mom. ]
In this way, the promise to hire a bodyguard was kept.
Anyway.
Finally, I could turn my attention to the small duffel bag I brought from the training ground.
I grabbed the zipper and carefully opened it, revealing the equipment one by one.
A Glock 19 with the slide closed came into view.
Next to it, three magazines were lined up.
On the second floor, there was a subcompact Glock, and below, two ammunition boxes were silently stacked. Both 9mm and 5.56mm.
There was also a Custom MP5 with a red Holographic sight. When I lifted it, I felt a heavy weight.
Deeper inside, there was an AR-15 with a folding stock.
It's a civilian semi-automatic version, but.
This is no joke.
The traces of Customization remained intact in the carbine type optimized for short barrels.
If I get used to it, I would be able to move nimbly even in a narrow space.
I took them out one by one and carefully placed them on the table.
The quiet center of the living room instantly turned into a battlefield.
Holding a Glock in my hand, I slowly pulled and released the slide, reconfirming that the chamber was empty.
Click.
Listening to that metallic sound that I had become accustomed to, I earnestly hoped.
I hope I never have to load it here.
Really. Sincerely―
But if I have to use it, I won't hesitate.
I will carry it out perfectly.
Legally, without any flaws, with thorough calculation and cold-bloodedness.
And my brain will make that possible.