Chapter 132
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Aftermath and an Invitation
Ziiiip!
The zipper on a blue body bag was pulled shut.
It was morning.
Citizens, their faces smudged with ash or stained with dried, blackened blood, squatted on the streets, watching as the bodies were cleared away.
Their exhausted faces were etched with fatigue.
But their eyes held a spark of strength.
They were the survivors.
Though they had received help from the company's people, they had taken up arms and fought the gangs themselves.
Now, as they faced a morning far more grueling than the peaceful one of yesterday, their eyes were more alive than ever.
And as if to cheer them on, government vehicles bustled through the city.
This was possible thanks to the swift road repairs, a joint effort between the company and the U.S. government.
As medical personnel in military uniforms and white, full-body vinyl suits cleared the dead and tended to the wounded, Yohan sat in front of a building on the city's outskirts, watching it all unfold.
He was with Juan.
A weary-looking man, his face smudged with soot, gave Yohan a grateful look but passed by without a word.
Though there were many people around, no one approached them.
There were several reasons for this.
The terrible night had passed, and morning had arrived.
But it wasn't all over.
The city needed to be rebuilt, and for now, the injured had to be saved.
Everyone was busy, rushing about.
Another reason was out of consideration for Yohan and Juan, who looked just as exhausted as everyone else.
Thanks to this, the two could sit in front of the building undisturbed, but Juan wasn't entirely at ease.
He was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Yohan, a friend who now felt more distant than before.
He didn't know what to say in a situation like this.
Juan, wiping his forehead with a sweat-stained sleeve, glanced at Yohan, who looked more exhausted than anyone, then looked away.
Then, he parted his chapped lips.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Not hurt anywhere?”
“What about you?”
Juan felt a little embarrassed by the back of his hand, which was scraped and bleeding, and covered it with his other hand.
“I'm fine.”
“If you're hurt, tell me. I'll ask one of the guys to take a look.”
“You should be the one to talk, you idiot.”
Yohan was in worse shape.
The fact that he was still worrying about him was so absurd that Juan, without thinking, treated him like he used to.
The corners of his mouth, which had briefly turned up, quickly fell.
He wondered if this was okay.
His expression hardening, Juan stared at the ground and spoke in a mumble.
“You know… I thought you didn't see me as a friend anymore.”
Yohan's gaze turned to him, but Juan continued to speak, his eyes fixed on the ground.
“I felt a distance between us. It felt like I was standing still while you were getting further and further away.”
Despite the surrounding commotion, a heavy silence fell between Yohan and Juan, as if they were in their own separate space.
Then, Yohan placed a hand on Juan's knee.
It felt like an answer.
An answer of 'yes' to the unspoken question, 'We're still friends, right?'
“…Thanks.”
Juan pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose.
It felt as if a long-held emotion had been resolved.
The weight on his heart lifted noticeably.
The space next to Yohan, which had felt uncomfortable, now felt easy. His tense body relaxed, and his shoulders slumped.
Just then, Yohan spoke.
“Do you remember the day my mom died?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
Juan, feeling a pang of guilt for not being there for him that day, replied. But Yohan only watched the wounded being carried away on stretchers and the surviving citizens.
“I cried a lot that day.”
“……”
“I wanted to protect her… but… I couldn't.”
Juan's lips trembled.
He wanted to say that Yohan had protected so many people, but he knew those words would be meaningless to him right now.
The person Yohan wanted to protect most was his mother.
Yohan had gained the power to protect others.
But the one person he most wanted to protect was already gone.
Yohan's shoulders began to tremble slightly.
Juan reached out and put an arm around Yohan's shoulders.
Without words, he offered a comfort only a friend could give. The two of them sat like that for a long time, arms around each other.
Kanghyeok stepped into the burnt-out safe house.
Employees dispatched from the company filled the living room, while in the yard, the bodies of Iron Mask's men were being recovered.
Click, click.
As he watched an employee photograph the body of the MK2 lying on the living room floor, a man who appeared to be in charge approached him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Kanghyeok. Do you have a moment?”
Kanghyeok shifted his gaze to the man.
“What is it?”
Perhaps because Kanghyeok, a team leader and the safe house manager, had responded so gently, a grateful smile spread across the man's face.
“First of all, thank you for your hard work. I've been to many sites, but I've never seen anything like this.”
The soot stretching to the ceiling and the deeply ingrained smell of smoke.
And the bullet-riddled body of the MK2 was a testament to how brutal the battle in this living room had been.
“There are a few things I need to discuss with you. I was hoping we could talk for a moment.”
Kanghyeok glanced at the people filling the living room and nodded in understanding.
They were all company employees, so there was no need for secrecy, but the atmosphere was too chaotic for a conversation.
“The repairs might be extensive. Ah, since you mentioned this is your first time as a safe house manager, I should tell you that the company will cover all costs, so you don't need to worry about a thing. You'll just need to fill out a few reports later. I'll send the forms to your secretary.”
The man continued with his business-like talk as they walked toward Kanghyeok's room.
It was all procedural, things Kanghyeok already knew, but he nodded along to show he was listening attentively.
They reached the area with Kanghyeok's bedroom.
After confirming no one was around, the man's expression grew more serious.
“It's about that body.”
The man's low voice captured Kanghyeok's attention.
The MK2 was killed inside the safe house, but the battle had also raged in the yard.
The drones were down and the satellites were back online, so the company must have learned about the MK2's existence.
The company was bound to react sensitively.
The attacker had used full-body armor, like a tank.
The existence of the MK2 was a far more significant issue than the damage to the safe house or the attack itself.
“The matter will be handled according to procedure, but William asked me to tell you not to worry too much.”
Kanghyeok studied the man, who replied while rubbing the tip of his eyebrow with his thumbnail.
“William couldn't come himself. He said the timing wasn't right.”
“…I see.”
He roughly understood.
Both why William couldn't come, and why the man waited until they were alone to have this conversation.
The MK2's body was in the living room, and there had been a fire.
That left one important question.
How was Kanghyeok unharmed?
Kanghyeok had never revealed his recovery ability to anyone; not even Leila knew.
From the look in her eyes, she seemed to have noticed something unusual about him, but she had never asked what it was.
Not even William.
William was offering to handle this problem—a problem that would surely lead to restrictions on his actions if the company found out.
His intentions were obvious without asking.
He likely considered Kanghyeok an ally, someone in the same boat, and wanted to protect him as much as possible.
“Please tell him I'm grateful.”
“I'll be happy to. Do you have any other questions?”
“The body will be taken to the company for analysis. I'd like to receive the data.”
“Should I forward it to your secretary?”
“I'd prefer if you delivered it to me directly, if possible. And how much secrecy can be guaranteed?”
The man glanced back toward the safe house and said.
“If there's anything you're concerned about, please let me know.”
Kanghyeok's gaze shifted toward the living room, where the MK2's body lay.
He searched his memory.
The MK1 had a camera near its chest.
A camera that would have watched him fight and transmitted the footage to Iron Mask.
“There might be a camera on the chest. I'd like you to remove it separately and give it to me.”
“I'll check if there's a storage device as well.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't mention it.”
The man gave a slight bow and headed back toward the living room.
Now, that man would remove the camera attached to the MK2, just as Kanghyeok had asked, and would also hand over the company's analysis data.
He felt a sense of relief.
Was it because he had secured the data?
No, it was because removing the camera meant he wouldn't have to attract unnecessary attention from the company.
He wasn't trying to act like some manga protagonist from his youth, hiding his powers.
The company couldn't be trusted.
There was its anticlimactic end, vanishing despite all its power, and William's own wariness of people within the company.
Nothing good would come from such a company learning about Kanghyeok's constitution.
There were too few people he could truly trust.
But they weren't non-existent.
Kanghyeok went out to the yard and put a cigarette in his mouth.
He habitually reached into his pocket for a lighter, but his fingers found nothing.
Clatter.
With a look of disappointment, Kanghyeok put the cigarette back in the pack.
It wasn't just because he couldn't have a smoke.
He had protected the safe house, prevented a massacre, and stopped the development of a drug that had caused the end of humanity.
He had achieved so much, yet he had things to hide, a situation that prevented him from speaking with confidence.
He felt a sense of regret, like hiding in the dark shadows of the city, stealing glances at the neon-lit streets.
‘The biggest regret is…….’
Kanghyeok moved his lips as if he were holding a cigarette.
The fact that an enemy had gotten away left a gritty taste in his mouth, like sand.
‘Iron Mask.’
He didn't know if the silver giant looking down at him from the helicopter was Iron Mask or not.
But he had felt an extraordinary aura and a bottomless hostility from him.
He was probably Iron Mask.
He suddenly wondered about the man's whereabouts.
Whump-whump-whump!
Inside the helicopter, which kicked up a wind strong enough to blow away the world, Iron Mask gazed down through the window.
A small island was embedded in the pale sea.
An island with no name and no inhabitants.
It was the place mentioned in the letter.
Iron Mask took the letter from the pocket of his winter robe and read it.
[To the second Iron Mask. My apologies for the late introduction. The sudden change in generation required time for me to assess you. After long consideration, I have decided to accept you. If you wish to fulfill your father's mission and lifelong desire, please visit this location.]
Rustle.
Iron Mask folded the letter in half and put it back in his winter robe.
It was a letter he could have easily ignored.
However, a single postscript added at the very end made it impossible to dismiss.
Iron Mask slowly closed his eyes, then opened them.
The first emotion he felt upon reading that line was displeasure. It felt as if some faceless stranger was saying they would only acknowledge him if he did as they said.
And yet, he was heading to the coordinates in the letter because he was curious about his father's mission and lifelong desire.
Iron Mask had always wanted to escape his father's shadow.
If the letter hadn't mentioned his father, he would never have come this far.
“Destination confirmed,” said the helicopter pilot, having spotted a dilapidated hut in the center of the island.
The helicopter began to descend.
Once the helicopter had landed perfectly, only Iron Mask disembarked.
It felt like the right thing to do.
Clank, clank.
His winter robe fluttering in the fierce wind, Iron Mask walked toward the shabby hut.