Contact #017
A week of hunting orcs had elevated Ga-on's physical prowess to match theirs. To put their strength in perspective, orcs could bench-press a thousand kilograms. No further explanation needed. With that equivalent brute force, the canteen he hurled like a projectile smashed into the first crossbowman's skull, bursting on impact and mangling his face. The second one didn't even get a chance to raise his weapon before another canteen shattered his arm, leaving it dangling limply. The crossbow in his grip splintered as a bonus.
"F-fuck!"
"Kill him!!"
Only after both crossbowmen were out of commission did the others finally spring into action. The frontmost bandit swung his sword in a straight, honest line—deceptively straightforward, almost diligent-looking. Dodging it was child's play; too predictable to miss. Ga-on twisted aside and drove his middle knuckle into the man's throat.
"Gurk!"
One strike severed his windpipe. Ga-on snatched the slipping sword as the bandit's grip failed, then charged forward, carving through the rest in a blur. He'd trained primarily in spear arts, but all martial disciplines converged toward universality in the end. Spears stabbed, slashed, and bludgeoned. Swords could do the same with a bit of adaptation. In seconds, the bandits crumpled to the ground, spurting blood.
"Hoo... Who the hell are you guys?"
"U-ugh... F-fuck... What the hell is this?!"
Ga-on flicked the blood from his blade and approached the crossbowmen, firing off his question. The one with the mangled face—broken nose, shattered teeth—stared at his dead comrades, his own paling in terror as he stammered. He wasn't unscathed, but at least he wasn't a corpse yet. Realizing his life hung by a thread, he dropped to his knees and begged.
"I-I'm sorry! I won't show my face around here again, so please spare me!"
"M-me too! I won't breathe a word of this to anyone! Please...!"
Idiots? Or just too panicked to think straight? Ga-on had asked who they were, and they'd given brainless pleas instead. He stared down coldly, uncorked the last canteen at his belt, took a few gulps to quench his thirst, then repeated himself.
"I asked who you are."
Only then did realization dawn; they sputtered excuses while spilling their guts.
"W-we're members of a group called Shin Segye! We were scouting the forest and stumbled on this place by chance."
"That's right! We weren't targeting you. Sorry for getting greedy. It won't happen again, so please...!"
Just as expected—Shin Segye. Their unification had progressed faster than anticipated; already expanding territory with scouts. Collision was inevitable, just a matter of time. Meeting these grunts first might even be a stroke of luck. Time to relocate.
"Who's your group's leader?"
"P-Park Gyu-wan! Ex-gangster."
"He sent us! We didn't wanna come!"
The leader unchanged meant the worst hadn't come to pass. His past-life knowledge wasn't obsolete. This fell within predictions. Ga-on pondered if there was more to extract, then swung the sword without hesitation. He knew far more than these low-rank fodder anyway.
Schwick—!
Their heads rolled; only then did they register death, mouths gaping fish-like before going still. Lights faded from their eyes as breath ceased. Ga-on savored the sword's grip a moment, confirmed it didn't suit him, tossed it aside, and turned.
Locking eyes with Yi Cho-rin's terror-stricken gaze.
She stood rigid, surveying the corpses. Face drained white, hands clamped over her mouth against rising nausea.
Mistake.
He'd slain countless monsters, but humans? First time. From his first-life perspective, he must look like a psychopathic killer devoid of remorse. Her revulsion made sense. Good thing she wasn't screaming "murderer" in disgust.
Ga-on concluded as much and stepped back. But as his foot retreated, Yi Cho-rin vaulted the bodies and rushed to him.
"A-anywhere hurt?"
"Pardon?"
"No wounds? Tell me quick—I can heal you."
Her reaction defied expectations. Ga-on deemed the question foolish but asked anyway.
"Doesn't this bother you? I killed people."
"...It's not that it doesn't bother me. But you're more precious than those guys."
Ga-on's communication skills sucked, thanks to years alone. He jumped to conclusions, drew lines prematurely. This was one such case. What he'd overlooked: Yi Cho-rin was far stronger and more resilient than he thought. Steadfast, kind, grateful. She didn't reject differences outright; she empathized, showed consideration.
That woman. Realizing it anew, Ga-on quelled his twitching lips and continued.
"...I'm fine. And you, Yi Cho-rin? Hurt anywhere?"
"Nope, I'm good. I was more scared you'd abandon me and run earlier!?"
She poked at him while eyeing the scattered spear and daggers on the ground, face crumpling. Ga-on cut off her whiny recounting of that terror.
"Sorry for worrying you needlessly. But I'll never abandon you, so rest easy."
"Why?"
"Because you're precious."
"......"
Quoting her back, Ga-on watched her face blaze crimson. She finally grasped how her words could be misinterpreted. Fanning her cheeks to cool them, she switched topics, indignant at blushing alone under his impassive gaze.
"I-I thought you'd hurt your right arm on purpose again. That's why I ran over."
"You wanted me injured again?"
"Th-that's not what I meant! Who'd want that?! Not at all!"
"I see."
His unflappable calm had her pouting side to side. She glanced at the strewn bodies, sighed, and simmered down. No time for banter; the site's too grim.
"For now... let's head back to the cave."
"Go on ahead. I'll recover the gear."
And loot their pockets, naturally. Guessing as much, she glanced at the corpses, nodded silently, and trudged to the cave. Her eyes conveyed regret at not helping.
Only after she entered did Ga-on move. His senses confirmed the cave safe. He grabbed the spear and dagger first, then rifled their belongings. Top prize: an intact crossbow and bolts.
Useful.
Yi Cho-rin could handle it easily; her string-pulling strength made it near-custom. Less worry in fights now. A faint smile formed. Combat dynamics would shift dramatically. Bolts were limited, but whittled branches could substitute—less balanced, but lethal up close. Even brandishing it would distract foes from him. All upside, no downside.
Rest is... nothing special.
Ga-on pocketed the crossbow, spare dagger, and shoes, then entered. Inside, Yi Cho-rin sorted salvageable mess: sacks, fruits. Peaches all mush; strawberries intact. Dried fish dirtied beyond eating—rage bubbled. Too merciful a death?
"Yi Cho-rin."
"Ah, Ga-on. You're back? Not much left. Mushrooms are all we got. They're awful. Why trash what they wouldn't take?"
Meager as it was, two weeks of hard-won survival comforts ruined stirred her emotions; her face clouded. To cheer her—no tears—Ga-on offered a gift.
"Take this. Found it on the way."
"Huh? Shoes?"
"Yes. One pair."
One bandit around 170cm had small enough feet; laced tight, they'd fit. Handing over the crossbow too, her gloom vanished in a beaming smile.
"Thank you!"
"No big deal. But I have something to discuss."
"Got it. Over dinner!"
She kicked off her straw sandals, slipped into sneakers, bounced to test, nodded happily, and headed to the fire. While she prepped, Ga-on pondered next steps.
Leave this place first.
No return from scouts meant reinforcements for investigation. Shin Segye numbered over 300 total—mostly exploited laborers, but surely trackers among them. They'd swarm in days; best flee fast. Regrettable abandoning setups, but unavoidable. Rift with them killed alliance hopes anyway. Even if Park Gyu-wan valued talents, accepting after killing members? Dicey. And others would eye Yi Cho-rin regardless. Her Unique Ability outclassed them all; they'd lust for her looks, but collectively they paled. In a pinch, Ga-on's choice was obvious: her.
No helping it...
Relocate priority one. Persistent pursuit? Reassess then. Worst case, wipe them out—but that'd weaken them against future Dimensional Incursions. Pray they act rationally.