Chapter 197
Chapter 197
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 197
Chapter Title: Lord's Buttocks (2)
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The faint chirping of crickets filled the summer night air.
A prosecutor investigator from the Seoul Central District Prosecutors' Office scratched at his mosquito-bitten forearm and grumbled.
“Ugh, it’s hot. Being in a lower neighborhood like this, it feels way hotter than Seoul.”
“What’re you talking about? It’s all the same everywhere. You just never hit the field because you’re always holed up in the office, senior.”
And then his junior, unnecessarily chiding him. They were close enough that they traded relaxed jabs without any tension.
“Hey, after getting chewed out by Prosecutor Park Eun-ji like that, don’t I deserve a break? And look at yourself right now.”
“Huh? Look at what?”
“Even at the Ministry of Justice, they’ve got me running field ops. Damn, it’s like a ghost that hunts people, a real ghost.”
He’d originally lived a life of suffering under Prosecutor Park Eun-ji.
When personnel shuffle season hit, she’d flown off to the Ministry of Justice, and it felt like the proletarian workers’ revolution had finally liberated them from their oppressor. Of course, that was just an illusion.
“The second I get a breather, she calls and piles on the orders. Same with this one—making me come all the way to Naju for what?”
“Man, you complain about collecting promotion points, but you still go every time. Anyway.”
Peering through binoculars at the fence far off in the distance, the junior investigator continued.
“You’re sure about this? This case?”
“Park Eun-ji, that crazy bitch, handed it to me herself—100% solid. And this is a secret, but maybe...”
Wary of even birds or mice overhearing, the prosecutor investigator whispered cautiously into the night.
“This might be that Han Seo-jun guy’s handiwork.”
“Han Seo-jun? That eccentric troublemaker chairman? The one who breaks out in hives all over if he doesn’t make the news with some big scandal every season change?”
“Ah, not for sure. I just overheard Park Eun-ji muttering it.”
That was definitely how it went.
Unlike her usual phone orders, she’d come all the way from Gwacheon to Seocho-dong to buy him a meal.
Still in yesterday’s clothes, reeking of booze in her suit, she’d scarfed down hangover stew for breakfast-slash-lunch, muttering to herself.
‘Han Seo-jun’s got a real sharp mind, that’s for sure. The guys under me have mullet heads. Oh, not talking about our investigator here.’
Of course, with red-capped shochu bottles featuring cartoon toads.
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji, downing a bottle of shochu in the blazing midday sun. Just picturing her made the investigator wince in pain, shaking his head repeatedly.
“Mullet head, my ass… Ow, that itches!”
Bzzzzz—the itch hit with a vengeance. The grass must’ve been crawling with mosquitoes.
“Damn countryside. Near the orchards, maybe? Mosquitoes are everywhere.”
“Heh heh. Senior, the real mosquito’s not out here, right? The one that properly sucks human blood—the Lord’s mosquito.”
“You got that right. That cult of theirs—what do they call it?—they hand over all their money and bodies... Ugh, why’s it buzzing so loud?”
He’d sprayed a whole can of bug repellent, but the mosquito wingbeats weren’t fading—they were growing louder.
Or maybe the investigator was imagining it.
The unpleasant noise piercing his ears might not be mosquitoes at all, but the footsteps of something far worse.
“My blood sugar’s high, so of course it zeroes in on the sweet stuff... Huh?”
“W-What... is that! Holy shit!”
A massive object lumbering toward them from afar.
Round and pink like a buttock, it was none other than.
“A peach...?”
A peach-shaped exterior shell on a mining dump truck—eight meters wide, long, and tall.
Staring at the absurd sight, the prosecutor investigator’s mind flashed back to his conversation with Park Eun-ji like a montage.
‘Uh... who’s the cooperating target for this operation?’
‘Oh, that. Can’t say right now. You’ll know it when you see it.’
‘Pardon?’
She’d ordered another bowl of hangover stew and poured shochu into a stainless steel cup. Even with her nose flushed red, she didn’t give specifics.
Just one cryptic line.
“This is insane... She wasn’t just drunk rambling from morning? That was real?”
It had sounded like pure drunken nonsense at the time—impossible to make sense of.
Even though she’d spoken the plain truth.
‘The peaches from that area are famous. If a super-giant peach comes charging in to take down Satan, just go with it.’
* * * *
—Grrrumble! Vreeeeem!
The peach-shaped dump truck, aka [Lord’s Buttocks], roared with a mind-blowing engine growl as it charged at full speed.
Fitted with tank treads instead of tires, the behemoth weighed hundreds of tons and pulverized the road wherever it went.
“Ch-Chairman? Is this really the right way? The asphalt’s getting wrecked...”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not far—we’ll compensate later. Just floor it for now.”
“But... there’s no road anymore...”
No road? Piloting a monster like this, that’s no excuse.
At this size class, wherever it goes becomes the road, the light, the path of life. Just push forward relentlessly.
“Why’d we fit tank treads if not for this? Crush mountains, hills, streams—straight ahead. Like a true Ammunition Group man!”
“Ammunition... man? Ammu-NITION!”
One word about Ammunition men flipped some weird switch in the research director.
He’d felt a vague sense of déjà vu earlier, and now the reason clicked in his head.
Right before the op started, what Kim Won-cheol had told him.
‘Sigh, that Naju lab guy. Total tired type.’
‘Didn’t seem like much. Problem?’
‘He’s from Lee Tae-gyu’s faction, sorta. Not Marine ROTC, but army tank driver. Anyway, classic old-school Ammunition man.’
Lee Tae-gyu, former president and missionary of Ammunition Group’s military culture. And his followers among the execs.
Most key guys had been purged back then, but this one must’ve been a side branch, lingering on.
With the Ammunition macho switch triggered, the research director reacted instantly.
“Looking good! Manly! One, two, three, four!”
Out of nowhere, a military tune. No—Ammunition Group’s unofficial company song. Then he gazed at Han Seo-jun with sparkling eyes.
Not really his style, but since the guy was driving... better play along.
“...Right here! I’m the man! Ammunition man!”
Half-mumbled, he echoed the song—er, unofficial anthem. The research director suddenly teared up in感動.
“The Chairman trusts me! Stands beside me! I can cross anywhere in one go! Charge!”
“That’s... the spirit. See that fence over there?”
Emotion’s emotion, but first things first.
Han Seo-jun pointed at the wooden fence marking the boundary of [Lord’s Garden].
“Smash right through. With the armored spirit of an Ammunition man. Charge!”
“Wil-L YOU! Aaaaaah!”
The research director, soul of a tank battalion.
Amid the truck’s earthquake-like jolts, Han Seo-jun gripped the safety handle and muttered.
“Screw it. Let’s get the job done first.”
The white fence loomed closer. Around it, motorcycle-riding fanatic guards gaped at them, mouths agape.
Close enough to hear their shouts.
“Wh-Wh-What is that!”
“A peach? No way... the Lord’s Buttocks! The Messiah’s come to save us!”
This reaction... was disconcerting.
He knew their Second Coming event featured hallucinogenic peach juice, and that peaches symbolized the cult, earning the truck the nickname [Lord’s Buttocks].
“Ha... whatever. Might as well see it through.”
Yeah. They weren’t right in the head to begin with.
Leaning into the mic, he steeled himself and spoke slowly.
Fight poison with poison—crush one cult with another.
“Begone, foul demons! From now, the Lord’s Buttocks shall absolve your sins! Its holy grace shall shake the world!”
Would it work...? It did.
They dismounted their bikes, dropped to their knees, hands clasped in prayer.
“Ooh! I was right! The Garden of Eden’s peach is the Lord’s Buttocks!”
“Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Glory to our Lord God!”
Probably long-term hallucinogen side effects.
Pitying them a bit, he broadcast true gospel to the fanatic guards.
With a touch of sincerity, a message of salvation.
“Be saved! You sinners, prostrate and pray! The remorseful tears shall bring your future!”
* * * *
“Ugh, just sniffing this smoke makes my head spin like a top.”
He’d inhaled a lungful of hallucinogenic incense, triggering a headache. Kim Won-cheol rubbed his temples.
Then came timid chiding from an Ammunition Group intel team member.
“That’s why, if Secretary Kim had drunk the peach juice like them, you’d be Lord-hunting too. What’s with the curiosity...”
“Ah, not curiosity. You know, know your enemy and know yourself for a hundred wins.”
“Oh, right.”
Luckily, Kim Won-cheol and the infiltrators were all ex-special forces, so no one passed out.
The music shifted abruptly, and the intel guy sensed the mood change.
“Guess it’s starting. The Second Coming event.”
“Yeah, there’s the bell-ringing cult leader lady. Let’s prep. Current ‘Buttocks’ position?”
“Approaching from northwest, about 3km out.”
Checking the GPS hidden in his watch, the intel guy reported. Kim Won-cheol estimated arrival and issued orders.
“Roger. Alright, time to pray. Keep your eyes cracked open.”
The Second Coming kicked off amid thick smoke. Cult leader Park Geum-deok climbed the altar and bellowed at the faithful.
“Fools! Sinners! Poor souls not yet in the Lord’s embrace! Raise your arms high!”
“Waaaaaah! Hallelujah!”
A thousand arms shot up like at a concert.
“Ow ow ow. My frozen shoulder’s gonna kill me, seriously.”
“Drink up already, Secretary Kim. We’ll get caught.”
“It hurts like hell, kid. You young ones don’t get how bad this is. And now’s not arm-raising time.”
Instead of arms, Kim Won-cheol pointed at the altar with a finger.
In the pink glow’s center, clear as day.
“The Jew... and Princess Hina!”
“It’s go time. Move out!”
Kim Won-cheol snapped into vintage special forces mode.
He directed the intel team in seconds, picturing the young commander who’d sent him here—now racing in on the peach truck.
“Positions, quick! Feels like old times. Well, the commander’s sharper now, so this’ll go smoother than back then.”