Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Narrative for the Villain (2)
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The men continued their grave conversation without reacting to Jin-hyuk at all.
Despite being ignored, Jin-hyuk struggled to suppress the boiling rage inside him.
He was used to being dismissed, and confirming the facts took priority anyway.
- "It's a kind of double agent ploy, but a bit different. Double agent schemes aren't clean. A bat just spreads disease to both sides. Better to just extract the info. Then... kill or spare them however you want."
The men's sighs mingled into their unbroken conversation.
Now that they were exposed, things weren't going according to plan. He caught snippets like the money they'd received was too much, how would they cover the family hospital bills they'd spent it on. They lowered their voices, but Jin-hyuk, whose hearing was as sharp as General's, couldn't possibly miss it.
- "Fear and mercy. That's how you draw out absolute loyalty. Using one works fine, but combining both is the surest way. Rely on just one, and side effects crop up."
It probably wasn't a literal order to kill, but Hong Gi-jun had said that if you couldn't instill fear worse than death, it wasn't real fear. Once they escaped that moment, relief and the thrill of life would wipe it away in an instant.
Hong Gi-jun had also said that against a clear enemy, you had to cut off their lifeline somehow.
'Killing once spares you from three vengeful spirits, but that's still evil.'
Jin-hyuk simply reaffirmed that he didn't want to become a murderer. Even without Cheon Gil-ryong's warning, he wanted to stand tall before his family. To do that, he had to subdue these guys without killing them, no matter what it took.
- "Now everything's ruined, you're dead meat. In that situation, you open a path to survival. But first, make them beg for their lives. Guys who shove their necks out screaming to be killed? Better not touch them from the start. You'd have to finish them off."
Laying Hong Gi-jun's words atop his ice-hard resolve quickly sorted his thoughts. It was a grateful moment. His vague respect for Chairman Hong Gi-jun took shape, and the wary Uncle Hong Gi-jun felt a step closer.
Still.
'I came all geared up, but there's zero tension.'
It felt like being ostracized again after so long. Dark memories from the past welled up, something bitter rising in his chest. The calmly subsiding anger reared its head once more. He needed to wrap this up quick, grab some food—Yujin might wake up soon.
He'd learned recently that hunger thinned the thread of reason, letting emotions slip into irrational territory. In other words, he was pissed.
It was then that Jin-hyuk let out a sigh.
A voice came from the man at the very back. He clenched his teeth, lips barely moving, but aimed straight at Jin-hyuk.
"If compromise fails... we subdue him."
The men moved in unison, positioning Jin-hyuk at the center.
It was a precisely calculated maneuver to claim promised spots, but not enough to heighten Jin-hyuk's tension.
Even in what anyone would see as a disadvantageous, urgent situation, Jin-hyuk's focus was elsewhere.
It was the absurd leisure he'd picked up from these men in the meantime.
'Just what the hell is my dad?'
He knew they were holding back, so he hadn't pried, but by now curiosity outstripped patience. Even those land-grubbers had vanished right after Dad left the house, as if on cue. Mom and Hong Gi-jun both stayed tight-lipped.
Now it seemed everyone was just whispering among themselves, no one on Jin-hyuk's side.
'I'm starting to get annoyed at Dad.'
...Even though the guy's pretty decent.
With his anger lacking a clear target, Jin-hyuk clicked his jaw.
He couldn't take it out on Dad, but a perfect substitute had appeared.
"Keep pushing it, and now you're talking about subduing me."
Saaah—.
The chill spreading from Jin-hyuk's toes thickened as he grinned.
The tension coiling around the men clawed at Jin-hyuk's cheeks.
It was a well-spread encirclement, prepared for when talks went south.
Their strides were measured, eyes behind sunglasses sharp enough to pierce souls.
Jin-hyuk matched their movements to avoid exposing his back. His body reacted first, no need for calculations.
He numbered them starting from the left.
You're 1, you're 2, that guy in the back is 3. And the youngest-looking uncle is 4.
"Not sure how that sounds to you guys..."
It was like muttering to himself.
The moment Jin-hyuk's mouth opened, the men froze. As if they wouldn't miss a single twitch.
"If you value your lives, answer my questions."
It was a sincere warning.
He figured they might scoff or ignore it as bravado, but for peace's sake, he'd endure their mockery.
But the men's reaction differed from punks like Yun Sung-dong.
As if by agreement, they removed their sunglasses and pocketed them in their jackets. Faces hardened, eyes uniformly fierce. It was acknowledgment that Jin-hyuk's warning wasn't empty.
"Hmm... You're that guy's little brother?"
Number 3, the only one still wearing sunglasses, asked. He seemed the leader. His cautious, businesslike tone carried respect for the opponent.
Jin-hyuk answered by glaring. Not a pleasant misunderstanding, but let them think what they wanted. Either way, that guy was in for aggravated punishment. He'd arbitrarily rewritten someone else's family tree. And no one likes being called old.
"I asked first."
"Hmm, we got hired to bring you in."
Number 3 nodded slightly. He seemed reasonably courteous.
"Who. Why."
"No need for us to know. No reason to report to you either."
Number 3 gestured at Jin-hyuk with his chin.
Jin-hyuk replied nonchalantly.
"Sounds like you're saying I should make you report."
The leisure from their earlier whispers vanished. The warm early autumn breeze gave way to inexplicable chill—natural reaction. The blade-like tension on their cheeks sharpened their stances in unison.
Moon Seok-il, number 3, spoke lowly.
"We promise. We won't harm you."
The serious, calm voice rang true to Jin-hyuk's senses. From their perspective, where they saw themselves at an advantage, little reason to lie.
But that was it.
"Even if you won't, what's the guarantee the client won't?"
Moon Seok-il swallowed a groan inwardly.
He couldn't answer truthfully, nor did he know. Fixers like them were like that. Once they learned a client's identity, they often ended up handled by another fixer post-job. Ignorance was the antidote.
And the young man's point was valid.
Nothing was guaranteed.
But.
'What the hell is that.'
Steam-like haze rising from the young man's body.
Not the ordinary heat shimmer warping the background. Dark blue energy undulated as if poison seeped from his flesh. Tentacles of darkness and light wriggled with intent, like demonic aura on display. They encircled the lone man protectively.
Moon Seok-il glanced at his comrades with just his eyes.
'This place felt weird, full of freaks. Is it just me seeing it?'
His comrades' stances were unchanged.
Maybe the sunglasses? He tilted his chin up like a farsighted old man, but the eerie energy persisted.
Moon Seok-il's observation didn't last.
"Maybe I'm a joke to you."
In natural stance, Jin-hyuk lightly spread his arms, palms forward.
A pose that might look like lamenting his fate, but to Moon Seok-il, it was eerily grotesque. The ultimatum from a man in flawless combat readiness flew in.
"But I promise. Touch my family, and you die by my hand."
A sharp whoosh like tearing air. The taut rubber band snapped, air stinging painfully. Suffocating tension enveloped the men.
At his signal, the men moved again. No room for negotiation meant no need for talk.
Unaware numbers hovered over their heads, they exchanged glances left and right before closing in to subdue Jin-hyuk. Their footwork was fluid, postures flawless for unleashing power.
Yet Moon Seok-il's faith in his comrades lost its absoluteness. Not from distrust.
'No good. Something's off with that guy.'
Before Moon Seok-il could intervene, the wrist of his friend grabbing for the shoulder got trapped in the young man's armpit. Jeong Sang-tae, famed for speed and close-quarters, snared in one move.
As shock rippled across faces, Jin-hyuk's face twisted in a different kind of horror.
'What is this, slowpoke cat punch?'
*
Moon Seok-il was a veteran operative from intelligence agency's North infiltration unit, specially recruited to NIS. Called a ghost for countless missions. His infiltration of a secret Pyongyang site dubbed Black Dragon Castle was legend among agents.
One day, walking Seoul streets, he grew disillusioned with spycraft. To avoid turning ronin like seniors, he took fixer gigs—errand-running at heart—but he was a human weapon, trained in judo, taekwondo, kendo, even barehand kills. His companions were no different, making the current situation baffling.
Forgetting the silent rear approach...
'What kind of human moves like that...'
Crack—thwack—!
Jin-hyuk's palm, folded at right angles, nailed Jeong Sang-tae's jaw precisely. Was that even an attack? It lacked rigidity, just a soft push.
Body-honed technique and instinct had clenched his teeth already, clamping harder at impact, yet Jeong Sang-tae's jaw emitted a chilling crunch.
Scrape—.
Before Jeong Sang-tae's head hit the cement, Jin-hyuk shifted for the next.
Thud—. As his friend collapsed, Moon Seok-il ditched his sunglasses.
'Should've just left...'
In that brief moment, chill seeped into Moon Seok-il's mind.
His looks screamed young soldier. Broad shoulders, billowing clothes revealing a silhouette in the wind. Cautious yet bold wild-man speech.
Still, facing four battle-hardened adult men alone was another matter. Yet the young man was pulling it off. "Pulling off" understated it.
'Too fast.'
He didn't move big. Just enough joint flex to evade, slapping away incoming strikes with palms at contact.
That wasn't martial arts.
Like the difference between hummingbird and butterfly wings. Sheer superior speed to bat away blows. Like dusting off.
Dodging simultaneous grabs from Kang Hyeon-chang and Kim In-rang, Jin-hyuk glanced at fallen Jeong Sang-tae. Pupils dilated, foam at mouth. Dangerous. Might not die, but could turn vegetable.
'Should've spotted it when dragging that wild boar.'
Everyone has a plan till they get hit. Regret's always too late, no matter how quick.
Regret surged with the recall of the client brief.
- "Bring both. Resistance? Use force. If they die, can't be helped. Their fate, right?"
The huge payout's distant gaze now snapped to reality.
Harsh reality.