The Looming Shadow (3)
A day had passed since I’d gone to visit Ma Seon-ung in the hospital, but Seo Gwang-pal still hadn’t shown his face.
Why not?
I fell into thought as I scanned the workers around me.
Because he’s not sure.
All Seo Gwang-pal knew was that the Purple Devil was somewhere in this place. He didn’t know that the Purple Devil was me.
Ilsan Hunter Industrial Complex was huge, stretching from Factory 1 all the way to Factory 9. Once you counted even the low-level staff, there had to be thousands of people here. There was no way Seo Gwang-pal could investigate every single one of them by himself.
He’d definitely bring people and come at me with the Dio Guild’s backing. If I was going to deal with him, I needed to build up my manpower and tighten up my side’s fighting strength first.
As for when...
Maybe this week, if he moved fast. Next week at the latest?
I couldn’t pin down the exact timing, but my instincts told me enough. This was the calm before the typhoon.
“Yongki! Got a visitor. Come out here for a second!”
While I was lost in thought, the foreman waved me over.
At the word visitor, I tensed instantly.
Already?
That was sooner than I’d expected.
I need more time to prepare.
With a hard expression, I pulled off my safety gloves and headed toward him.
“A visitor?”
“Those guys.”
Outside the factory, a group in black clothes was waiting for me.
It was the lanky Gi Yeong-cheol and his men.
Good.
I let out a breath of relief and headed for the gate.
Gi Yeong-cheol spotted me and walked over as the representative of the group.
I met him halfway.
“What brings you here? I thought you were going back to the countryside to farm.”
“That was the plan. Something came up.”
Gi Yeong-cheol scratched the back of his head, looking awkward.
Better than anyone, I knew exactly what “something” meant. I was the one who’d left him here.
“What’s a bunch of former gangsters doing here? You here to shake people down again?”
Even with my mocking tone, Gi Yeong-cheol just shook his head calmly.
“The Chi-do Gang’s gone. We’re not gangsters anymore.”
“Then what are you?”
“So, uh... Yeong-cheol.”
His voice shrank into himself. He almost looked embarrassed.
“What?”
“Yeong-cheol Suho...”
“I can’t hear you.”
“The Yeong-cheol Protection Squad! Yeong-cheol pro-tec-tion squad!”
Silence fell.
The foreman standing nearby snorted, then burst out laughing.
Gi Yeong-cheol’s face, even his ears, turned bright red.
“Talk inside, you idiots.”
The foreman cackled and slipped back into the factory.
“The Yeong-cheol Protection Squad, huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. We protect the people working here.”
Gi Yeong-cheol kept glancing away, as if he still hadn’t adjusted to his own position.
“Everyone’s already hired on at the different factories. Officially, we start tomorrow.”
Everything was going exactly as I’d ordered.
He’s being more obedient than I expected.
Gi Yeong-cheol continued, “We turned the building Chi-do used to operate out of into a dorm. After work, we’ll train there and build the organization up. We’re also planning to bring in some young guys with backbone.”
There had been a chance Gi Yeong-cheol wouldn’t follow my instructions.
If that happened, I’d planned to step in as the Purple Devil again.
Guess that was needless worry.
Still blushing, Gi Yeong-cheol met my eyes.
“So if anybody gives you trouble, tell me.”
The factory sat outside the law, practically a lawless zone. It was the perfect feeding ground for thugs and gangsters. Even before Cha Chi-do was taken out, plenty of gangs had fought over this place and carved it up between themselves.
The men who had held their own in that kind of bloodbath would keep Ilsan Hunter Industrial Complex safe, at least while they were here.
“Trouble-makers? You lot were the worst trouble-makers around here.”
It was a joke, but Gi Yeong-cheol couldn’t laugh.
“I know. I’m sorry for everything until now.”
He bowed his head to me.
It was a sincere apology.
I grabbed his shoulder and hauled him upright.
“All right. Fine. I’m counting on you from here on out, Yeong-cheol Protection Squad.”
The name was pretty childish, but I didn’t laugh at him for it.
A man who was struggling to become better deserved encouragement, not mockery.
When I looked at Gi Yeong-cheol with a serious expression, the leader of the Yeong-cheol Protection Squad straightened his chest and got his confidence back.
“Leave it to me.”
Then he gave my right forearm a light tap.
“Guh.”
I hunched over and groaned.
It had only been a light hit, but it sent a jolt through my side.
“W-what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Startled, Gi Yeong-cheol hurried to support me.
It was the wound I’d taken the day I settled things with the gang boss.
Cha Chi-do had used one of his men as a shield to block my attack, then stabbed a sashimi knife into my side in the opening.
The blade had slipped between the armor plates, but thankfully it hadn’t gone in deep.
“It’s nothing. I just got hurt at work.”
“How bad did you get hurt? Let me see.”
Gi Yeong-cheol lifted up the factory jacket I was wearing.
Red blood had soaked through the white T-shirt near my ribs.
I’d wrapped it in bandages, but it looked like the wound had opened again.
“That’s serious! How did you do this?”
I brushed his hand away and pulled my jacket back down.
“Just a scratch. Don’t make a scene.”
“……”
He looked like he had something to say, but was hesitating.
Then, as if he’d made up his mind, Gi Yeong-cheol spoke.
“Choi Yongki. What I said today. I’ll keep it.”
Gi Yeong-cheol had promised to protect my workplace.
To think my enemy from a previous life had become an ally in this one.
Yeah. A second life really is a good thing.
“I’m going back to work.”
Feeling oddly reassured, I turned toward the factory—then suddenly looked up at the sky.
Dark clouds were rolling in, heavy and grim, as if they carried a vow of their own.
“Good work, everyone! Let’s clock out!”
“A-sha-byeong! Let’s go home, then!”
At the foreman’s shout, Karki thrust a hand into the air.
Even today, there was still no sign of the boss.
Lately, he’d been sinking even deeper into drink and women, wallowing in a life of pure debauchery.
He’ll collapse soon enough.
And when he did, this kingdom would be mine to take.
“Daejang! How about some cold soju today too?”
Karki wiggled his fingers and mimed drinking from a bottle.
I shook my head.
“No. We’ve got work to do.”
“Hmm. Daejang. Why you keep doin’ that from before?”
Only then did I realize I’d been pressing a hand against my injured side.
I lifted my factory jacket a little and showed him the wound.
“The fact that this is all it is means I got lucky. It almost went through to my organs.”
When Karki saw the blood-red bandages, his face fell and he grabbed my arm.
“Go hospital, Daejang!”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Daejang. Your eye got banged too!”
Come to think of it, one of my eyes was still throbbing.
It was the spot where Gi Yeong-cheol had hit me during our fight.
Either way, I’m a wreck.
No matter how much they said beating villains was the hero’s fate, there was no helping the fatigue that piled up with every injury.
In my previous life, I’d worked myself to the bone, only to be told I had cancer, and then I’d been bitten to death by a monster.
At this rate, I might end up punching down bad guys until I die before my time anyway.
Of course, if I used Super Kid’s Divine Aura, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt. It covered my whole body in mana and formed a protective shield, so it could block most minor attacks without issue.
But I couldn’t use that ability every single time. If I did, my balance would be drained dry in no time.
Wasn’t there a way to cut down on injuries and protect my body for longer?
After strength, defense, and speed, it was time for...
I needed another ability.
“Stay here! Daejang!”
Karki ran off somewhere.
Ding.
After everyone had gone home, Karki and I were left alone in the factory.
What he came back with was a first-aid kit.
There was no shortage of emergency supplies in a place like this; with all the cuts and tears that happened on the factory floor, they always kept the basics stocked.
Still, I rubbed the skin around my eye with a hard-boiled egg.
“Wouldn’t ointment be better?”
“No! Daejang! This one good effect, yes!”
“Who told you that?”
“Saw it on drama. Everybody do it.”
Karki, who trusted old Korean folk remedies more than actual Koreans did, munched on the egg.
He untied the bandage wrapped around my side.
Blood was still seeping from the open wound.
Karki furrowed his brow.
“Yep. This one not okay like this.”
The little guy deftly picked up a needle and thread and stitched my wound shut in one quick motion.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?”
“My mama in Nepal did seamstress work more than thirty years. I learn by shoulder-over, like that.”
“You mean over the shoulder.”
More than anything, I was impressed by Karki’s vocabulary.
Seamstress work.
That was a woman who did sewing for other households and got paid for it.
I understood him because reading was one of my hobbies, but...
“Where the hell did you learn a word like that?”
“Emperor Wang Geon, of course. Daejang, you watch? That one is super funny! Who was it? Who made the coughing sound?”
Karki quoted an old historical drama and did an imitation of Gung Ye.
“There. Done!”
He changed the bandage and stood up.
With the wound stitched up properly, moving around already felt easier.
“Don’t overdo it, okay, Daejang?”
“Yeah.”
I zipped up my jacket and started walking.
“Then let’s go?”
“Okay! Daejang!”
We left the factory and headed for the container.
Karki pulled out a notebook and began firing off questions.
“How was P1?”
That was the name of the prototype suit.
“A little heavy, and kind of uncomfortable. The seams started to split, too.”
“Mm. Right. When you cram in this and that function, there’s only so much we can do!”
“How about cutting back on the features and focusing on the suit’s core design instead?”
“Heh. I already figured you’d say that.”
Karki opened the container door.
Under the light, a new suit revealed itself.
“Ta-da!”
My mouth fell open before I even realized it.
The huge helmet had been replaced with a simple purple mask.
The suit, which had been closer to armor before, had been upgraded into something more like a bulletproof vest.
Most of all, the giant P that had been stamped across the chest was gone.
Now it sat in the center of the forehead instead.
“So? Daejang! You like?”
“Yeah. As long as you take off that P.”
“Ehh. That’s the whole style!”
I had no idea why he was so obsessed with letters of the alphabet.
“Let me try it on first.”
I pulled the purple mask over my face.
The fabric felt rough against my skin.
Looking closer, I saw it had been stitched together from scraps of cloth, patched like a patchwork rag.
Maybe the raw material had been so expensive that he’d sewn together the leftovers.
Well, it’s better than wearing a helmet.
“Wait, is this Bronze Light?”
“Yep! I brought the leftover pieces from Khan!”
A mask made from the scales of a brown dragon, plus a bulletproof-vest-style costume on top of that.
The suit had clearly leveled up.
“Now what, Daejang? That bald hunter’s coming here, right?”
“Yeah. First...”
Awakener's Balance
￦1,035,565,998
With every battle, the number naturally kept dropping. The money that had once exceeded 1.07 billion won had shrunk noticeably.
What would happen if I used it all up?
Would I have to quit being a hero then?
……
No point worrying about that right now.
Let’s do what needs doing first.
2. Speeder Series
Infinite Acceleration: ₩10 million within a 1 km radius.
Regeneration: Deducted in proportion to the damage sustained.
To stand against Seo Gwang-pal, I had to prepare for every possibility.
One of those preparations was gaining a new ability.
I couldn’t just be fast. I had to be more than that.
Regeneration.
One of Speeder’s signature abilities.
It was locked right now, but...
I’ll get my hands on it no matter what.
To obtain the hero’s next skill, I had to meet the condition.
Last time, it had been a thousand punches for Judgment of the Superhuman.
This time, it was:
Regeneration
📍 Objective: Run 42.195 km
🎁 Time Limit:2 hours
Nice and straightforward.
The system was basically telling me to run that far. Forty-two point one nine five kilometers.
A marathon.
In either of my lifetimes, I’d never run that distance in a full stretch. At best, I’d jogged two or three kilometers. It wasn’t even in the same league as the thousand punches I’d thrown after staying up all night last time.
Can I even do this?
The marathon was one of the harshest, most punishing events in the Olympics. People collapsing midway through the race or quitting halfway through was common. In rare cases, it was even dangerous enough to stop the heart and kill you.
And on top of that...
Two hours?
Wasn’t that world-record pace?
Still.
I have to do it.
Ding.
The moment I clicked the mission, the letters turned red.
I loosened up my body and said, “Brahma! I’m heading out. Clock out.”
I called Karki by his codename, the name of the god of creation from Indian myth.
“Roger that, Daejang!”
Leaving the saluting Karki behind, I started running.
Raindrops began to fall over the parched earth.