Chapter 142
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: A Lead in Japan
A week passed.
In that time, construction on the safe house was completed, and the city began to stabilize.
A joint funeral was also held.
The company, having accepted Kanghyeok's request, cooperated with the U.S. government to make it happen. It was a more dignified affair than the joint funerals typically held for natural disasters like earthquakes, though none of the residents seemed to notice.
Still, one thing had become clear.
The dead belonged to the earth, and the living had to move forward.
In the city that had been attacked by gangs, everyone decided what they would do to live on and put their plans into action.
Clunk.
Kanghyeok, who had habitually driven to the vacant lot, stepped out of his car.
It was the lot where Yohan had trained, but now it was empty.
Even so, stopping by here once a day to smoke a cigarette before leaving had become a habit over the past week.
“Hoo!”
The weather had warmed up considerably.
Whether due to global warming or some other reason, winter didn't feel like winter.
There was a spring-like warmth in the air, which put his mind somewhat at ease.
He hoped the weather was like this in Italy, too.
He hadn't heard from Yohan yet.
He had only received a call from Gabriel on the first day saying Yohan had arrived safely; there had been no contact since.
“Hooooo—!”
Exhaling a plume of smoke as if to blow away any lingering regret, Kanghyeok surveyed the lot with his hands in his pockets.
It was an unremarkable place, yet it held more memories than he'd expected.
Over there, he had corrected Yohan's grip on a gun; over here, they had sparred bare-handed; and over that way, he had watched Yohan sprint at full speed.
If possible, he had wanted to watch over Yohan's growth until the very end.
Damn it, it wasn't as if he were sending off his own son.
It wasn't like he'd been that attentive to him in the first place.
It was a sensation that crept up on him silently, the feeling that a chunk of his life had been torn away.
Kanghyeok brought the cigarette to his lips and, looking up at the sky, exhaled a cloud of smoke mixed with his breath.
It was then.
“Whew-eet!”
A sudden whistle drew his attention.
When Kanghyeok turned his head, he saw two punks snickering, their eyes pulled into slits.
They looked young.
Around Yohan's age?
He hadn't seen them around here before.
That explained their behavior.
Anyone in this city who knew Kanghyeok would never dare act like that.
As he watched them blankly, the punks began to stride toward him.
“Yellow dog! Woof woof! Hey, bark.”
Thinking his silence was a sign of fear, their vulgar smiles grew wider.
One of them had his arm behind his back, looking as if he were hiding something like a brick or a knife.
Kanghyeok rubbed the end of his eyebrow and turned to face them.
“Something I can help you with?”
“Help you with? What, you got business here? You chink.”
Click.
The one with his hands behind his back pulled out a knife.
Holding a switchblade, the punk wore a confident expression, as if he wielded absolute power.
“Get on your knees and beg for your life.”
Thwack!
Instead of an answer, Kanghyeok kicked him between the legs.
“Gak!”
It was a pain every man knew.
The punk collapsed to the ground, dreading the wave of agony he knew was coming, and soon let out a scream from his wide-open mouth.
“You son of a bitch! A fucking chink like you!”
The other punk snatched the knife from his fallen friend and brandished it at Kanghyeok.
But having seen his friend get taken down, he didn't dare charge, only hesitating and waving the knife in the air.
Kanghyeok took a step toward him.
“Fuck!”
The punk swung the knife and lunged.
He didn't have the guts to aim for the neck; the blade came toward his forearm.
Thump.
Kanghyeok caught his arm,
Whoosh!
and with a leg sweep, slammed him to the ground.
Thud!
The weather might have warmed, but the ground was as hard as cement, and the punk landed on his back.
“Gak, gurgle!”
As the punk gasped for air from the impact, which felt like being hit by a car, Kanghyeok squatted down in front of him.
His face pale, the punk tried to sit up, but that only played into Kanghyeok's hands.
Grab.
Kanghyeok gripped the area below the punk's ear with his thumb and forefinger, applying pressure.
Crack.
Along with the sound of muscle being compressed, the punk's eyes widened.
It felt similar to having an arm twisted.
The sensation that he absolutely must not move.
The fear that if he moved, a joint would be dislocated.
The punk, realizing Kanghyeok could dislocate his jaw if he wanted, held his breath and could only roll his eyes upward.
“You… you yellow dog. Do you know who my dad is?”
Kanghyeok glanced at the kid, who was clutching his groin, his eyes glinting.
Then, with an overt sneer, he pulled a phone from his pocket and tossed it to him.
“Call him.”
“…Huh?”
“I said, call your precious daddy.”
The punk couldn't even pick up Kanghyeok's phone; he just let out ragged breaths.
Kanghyeok watched him without a word.
His eyes held no anger, no contempt, no pity.
It was a completely emotionless gaze, like he was looking at a stone or dust on the roadside, and for that reason, the punk felt a chill.
“Does it sound like I’m asking?”
The punk's shoulders trembled. The one whose jaw was being held stealthily raised an arm.
He thought that since Kanghyeok's gaze was on the other guy, he could knock his hand away.
Clack!
But without even glancing at him, Kanghyeok dislocated his jaw.
Clutching his now dangling jaw, the punk rolled on the ground.
“Uwaaaargh!”
A scream, laced with too much air because he couldn't close his mouth, echoed across the lot.
Fear spread across the fallen punk's face as Kanghyeok opened his mouth.
“Last chance. Call him.”
The punk's lips quivered, and he very slowly shook his head.
In truth, his father was no one special.
Just a guy who was handy with his fists and whom the neighbors avoided when he was drunk.
He was impressive enough in his son's eyes, but not enough to be called upon to take down this Asian man.
Kanghyeok knew the punk wouldn't call his father.
Guys like this were always the same.
“Did you move to this city recently?”
Forgetting even to breathe, the punk looked at Kanghyeok and nodded.
“There are always bastards like you. The kind who do nothing and just ride on what others have built.”
At first, he thought, ‘What did I do?’ but he soon realized it wasn't untrue.
He knew the gangs in this city had been attacked.
He had moved here thinking it would be safe because the gangs had been driven out by the residents' resistance.
“Aaargh!”
With the screams of the punk with the dislocated jaw as background noise, Kanghyeok stood up.
“Live quietly. Stay out of my sight. And don't even think about coming to this lot again.”
The punk got up, his eyes fixed on Kanghyeok.
Then, abandoning even his friend, he fled, repeatedly looking back at Kanghyeok, who picked up his phone and dusted it off.
“You, get lost too.”
The one with the dangling jaw also warily watched Kanghyeok as he left the lot.
“Idiots.”
He didn't know if those bastards would lie low or come back for revenge.
But he had a good idea what would happen if they asked anyone in this city to help them attack Kanghyeok.
Clink! Fwoosh.
After lighting a cigarette, Kanghyeok looked around the lot one more time and started walking toward his car.
Bzzzzzt!
Just before he got in the car, his phone rang. Kanghyeok glanced at the screen.
He reflexively pressed the call button.
“Gabriel.”
(You answered quickly.)
Kanghyeok let out a laugh like an exhale and brought the cigarette to his lips.
“How are you?”
(Me? Or Yohan?)
“Both.”
(It’s Yohan, isn’t it? I figured you’d be curious, so I called.)
Tap.
Kanghyeok leaned his back against the car, smoking his cigarette as he talked.
“How is he?”
(To be honest, he’s having a hard time fitting in.)
The slight smile on his lips didn't take long to fade.
“Is it because of the others?”
(No, it’s the opposite.)
His guess having been wrong, Kanghyeok narrowed his eyes, cigarette in hand.
“Don’t tell me he beat someone up.”
(Wrong. The other kids try to befriend him, but he keeps to himself. At first, I thought he was just shy, but after watching him for a week, that's not it.)
Kanghyeok let out a long breath through his nose.
It was a relief he hadn't caused any trouble, but for someone who had left so readily, he didn't seem to be adjusting well, which made Kanghyeok's feelings complicated.
“What’s he like?”
(He’s always alone. Doing physical training.)
“By himself?”
(It’s systematic, probably something he learned from you. He’s habitually repeating a routine.)
“…”
(What would you like us to do?)
“You guys should teach him. I didn’t teach him everything, so there are limits. You can provide training appropriate for his level, can’t you?”
(Got it. The first problem is getting him to open up. Why don’t you give him a call?)
After a moment's thought, Kanghyeok shook his head and spoke.
“No. He wouldn’t want that.”
(He’s tough.)
“His standards are higher than most. He won't stop until he achieves what he wants.”
What Yohan wanted was revenge for his mother.
Of all things, his targets were the ones who had destroyed the world, a task that even Kanghyeok had yet to solve.
“I sent a package your way. Don’t be alarmed if the delivery person doesn’t look ordinary; just accept the package. And give it to Yohan.”
(That’s easy enough. Can you tell me what it is?)
“A gun. The one he used.”
(Alright. We’ll start his training as soon as it arrives.)
“I’m counting on you.”
(Oh, and there’s one other thing.)
“Is it about what I asked for before?”
(That’s right.)
Kanghyeok leaned more heavily against the car and took a final drag from the now-short cigarette.
“Tell me.”
Yohan wasn't the only thing he had asked Gabriel about.
The Errant Priests had a habit of hunting down evil, and thanks to that, they had once worked together to stop Iron Mask, who had been planning a massacre.
As an outsider, Kanghyeok had helped them and secured a promise.
That they would share any additional information or unusual findings.
(Iron Mask has recently vanished. He’s stopped all public activities, as if he’s evaporated. We recently raided one of his warehouses, but there was nothing left.)
“Any records or other traces?”
(All the supplies were moved in an instant. It felt like a hurried relocation, but thanks to that, we stumbled upon some unexpected information.)
Kanghyeok sucked in his lips and looked up.
He saw the blue sky.
Though they were physically apart, there were others under the same sky who shared the same purpose.
And the ones who needed to be found and eliminated were also under this sky.
(We found out they have suppliers. We’re still investigating, but we were able to identify the region immediately from the characters written on the documents.)
This was big news.
Iron Mask was creating the drug that had destroyed the world. If they could stop his suppliers, they might be able to delay his completion of the drug.
‘If we’re lucky, we might even find out who they are.’
Kanghyeok didn't know much about them.
The scale of their organization.
Their motives.
Even why they had destroyed the world.
Hope sparked within him that this time, he might finally find the answers.
“Where is it?”
(Japan.)
A country in the same Northeast Asian region as Kanghyeok's homeland, Korea.
The hope of getting one step closer to his enemies lay in that country, so near and yet so far. Kanghyeok drew his lips into a thin line.