Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Coincidence for the Heroine (3)
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Like all smugglers, Jang Man kept his distance from anything social.
It couldn't be helped. That was the nature of his profession.
He dealt in things that shouldn't be sold and put prices on things that shouldn't have them, so people stopped looking like people to him.
He'd size up customers walking into his bar and calculate how much their lives were worth, and passing kids would make price tags pop into his head.
By the time he'd reached an age where the end felt closer than the beginning, only two kinds of people remained around him.
Those who paid well, or those he genuinely liked.
The one pounding on his bar door at the crack of dawn belonged to the former.
"Long time no see, old timer."
The man who stepped inside wore a dark blue coat. His M-shaped baldness exposed his forehead, and his razor-sharp nose bridge stood out.
Jang Man, who had been wiping a glass, scowled the moment he saw the man's face.
"Willard? Here to beg? Beat it. No work."
"Begging? Come on, old timer. When have you ever seen me show up empty-handed?"
The man called Willard plopped down at a customer table with a cheeky grin.
"Get lost. I don't care what you've got."
"Aw, old timer. You'll hurt my feelings if you don't even look."
Willard pulled something from his coat and set it on the table.
A bird-sized skull, a little bigger than a palm.
To an outsider, it looked like nothing special, but Jang Man recognized it instantly.
"A magic tool... not a complete one. Just a fragment that broke off somewhere."
"Sharp as ever, old timer! That's the skull from a mage's wand."
"...And?"
"Where do you think I found it?"
Willard rolled the skull across the table. It came to a stop right under Jang Man's nose with an ominous rattle.
"Don't know. Don't care."
"Off the coast of Incheon. Some unlucky fisherman hooked it."
"..."
"Old timer, I'm no idiot. I've got a nose for this stuff, that's why I came to you. You know that."
Thud! Jang Man slammed down the glass he was wiping and glared at Willard.
"So, what's your point? Why beat around the bush? Hole up in a rat nest and turn into a rat yourself?"
"Rat nest? Come on, old timer, at least call me by name. Blue Rat! It's got a decent ring outside Korea."
"Rat or cat, I don't give a damn. Spit it out."
Jang Man snapped, but Willard's expression didn't change.
"Old timer, I'm not asking for much. Just tell me one thing."
"What?"
"Those weird incidents in Incheon the last few days... you got tangled up in them too, right?"
Jang Man furrowed his brow. Had his tail been stepped on already?
"Weird incidents? Forgot what the outside world's like? This city's always been weird."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"No clue what you're on about. If you're here to play detective, get out."
Jang Man tossed his rag on the table and headed for the kitchen. Willard flashed a knowing smile at his back.
"A few days ago, they say a massive boom and explosion rocked the sealed pier."
Jang Man's steps halted. He turned with a look of disbelief.
"So?"
"The next day, the government rushed agents to Incheon, only to pull them all out in two days flat."
"..."
"Then the media drops a story about red elf commies invading Earth, like they were waiting for it. Obvious government plant. What are they trying to hide with a play like that?"
Willard watched Jang Man's face. No obvious panic. If anything, he let out a sigh like it was all ridiculous.
"That why you're here? I've got one answer for you. No idea."
"..."
"Time to close up. Out."
Willard started to say something, lips parting slightly, then just licked them and shut up.
After a brief silence, he spoke again.
"Old timer. Why so touchy? Makes you look..."
Willard's slit eyes swept over Jang Man's face with menace.
"...like you've got something to hide."
Before Jang Man could snap back, clap! Willard smacked his hands together.
The next instant, the bar door burst open, and five men stormed in.
All in the same dark blue coats as Willard. One brute stood out especially.
The brute was nearly scraping the ceiling, his long coat trailing like a moving curtain.
But it wasn't just his size that drew eyes.
His eyes... pitch-black orbs without a hint of white gleamed like a beast's, locking onto Jang Man.
"Easy, old timer. All friends of mine. This big guy's Mortimer, our organization's healthy conversation facilitator."
"...Healthy conversation?"
Jang Man let out a hollow laugh. Yeah, with a monster like that, conversation would be real healthy.
"Let's keep it simple, old timer. Tell us everything you know. We'll pay top dollar for the info."
"I really don't know anything."
"Well, if you're gonna make it hard... Mortimer! Help the old timer open up!"
Mortimer the brute strode toward Jang Man. As he loomed over the table, his shadow stretched long over Jang Man's head.
"Last chance, old timer."
Willard sneered. Jang Man glanced between Mortimer and Willard, sighed, and replied.
"Fuck off, punk."
The words barely left his mouth when Mortimer grabbed Jang Man's collar.
Jang Man struggled with his old body, but the brute lifted him effortlessly. His other hand reared back to slap Jang Man's cheek.
Or tried to.
Creak.
Just before Jang Man's cheek split open, the bar door opened, and a hat-wearing figure stepped in.
Willard, his crew, and Mortimer's eyes snapped to the intruder.
"...Old timer?"
Golden eyes under the hat brim burned with savage fury.
***
The moment he entered the bar, the Iron Dung Beetle couldn't process the scene.
Dark blue-coated men filling the place, and a giant in the same coat threatening Jang Man.
He couldn't make sense of it... but his emotions were clear, and his task was obvious.
Without hesitation, the Iron Dung Beetle lashed out a kick at the nearest guy.
"Gahk!"
The man took it to the gut and flew back. The blue-coats belatedly raised fists. Then Willard yelled from behind.
"You idiots! Superhuman! Guns out!"
Superhuman.
They froze at the word. The Iron Dung Beetle didn't miss the gap.
Crack! He launched forward, slamming a heel into the brute holding Jang Man's knee pit.
"Grk!"
Hit in the body's weak spot, the brute released Jang Man and clutched his knee.
The Iron Dung Beetle caught the old man mid-fall and dove behind the counter.
"Old timer! A superhuman? And you still claim you know nothing?"
All but the one doubled over from the gut shot drew pistols. Mortimer shook off the knee hit and rose, snorting.
Whatever they did, the Iron Dung Beetle checked on Jang Man behind the counter.
"Old timer, what's all this?"
"Blue Rat. They sniffed out your trail."
"...Blue Rat?"
"Multinational thugs babbling about info brokers and such. Never had ties to Korea before... but of all times."
Hearing Jang Man's explanation, the Iron Dung Beetle pieced it together. No panic, though.
After Seti showed how critical the trail was, he'd expected something like this, sooner or later.
"Old timer, slip out the back door."
"What? Just me? What about you?"
Instead of answering, the Iron Dung Beetle drew a grenade from his belt. The last one left after the necromancer fight.
Jang Man spotted the pin pull and scrambled toward the kitchen in horror.
"Old timer! Just surrender nice and easy! Our Mortimer's a superhuman too! How strong is your superhu— shit!"
The Iron Dung Beetle lobbed the grenade over the counter and gathered mana in his legs. Thighs and calves tensed taut.
Boom!!
With the explosion, he vaulted forward. Over the counter, he saw the grenade-ravaged bar.
Tables swept by the blast lay in splinters, shattered bottles scattered everywhere.
But unlike the bar, the enemies were fine. Not a single one lost their life to the grenade.
They'd all hunkered behind the big brute, barely saving their skins.
'Tanked a grenade barehanded? Superhuman, alright.'
Superhuman vs. superhuman. And against reinforcements, back-to-back.
Feeling his luck sour, the Iron Dung Beetle kicked off the floor anyway. The Blue Rats didn't sit idle.
"Shoot! Fire, you morons!"
Bullets rained in the cramped bar.
Whoosh!
The Iron Dung Beetle raised an arm to shield his head and zigzagged toward them.
He couldn't dodge every shot, but he trusted his regen. As long as no vitals hit, pistol rounds wouldn't kill him.
"He's coming! Mortimer, block him!"
"Raaargh!"
That left just the big superhuman. Good news: no finesse in his moves.
Clang!
Their kick and fist collided, and the Iron Dung Beetle winced. Rebound force surged up his Wave Yang Art mana, beyond expectations.
'Size difference? Or mana gap?'
Felt like kicking steel. He retracted his leg and swung a Wave Yang Art-infused fist.
Thud!
Impact rippled up his arm again. But Mortimer didn't drop—instead, he grabbed the Iron Dung Beetle's left arm.
Crunch. The left arm snapped with a grotesque sound. Overwhelming grip... no, raw power.
The Iron Dung Beetle swallowed a scream and unleashed Flying Leg Art to create distance.
'Doesn't seem to use any martial arts. How's he tanking hits?'
He glared at Mortimer while checking his broken left. Through the grenade-torn coat, vicious muscles writhed.
'If strikes won't work...'
Wave Yang Art surged along the Iron Dung Beetle's right shoulder. Mana churned as he formed a knife hand.
'Slice him.'
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