Chapter 7
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Bank and Robbery (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
-Jungwoo, have you eaten? Does your back still hurt a lot?
-You didn't tell anyone, right?
-Jungwoo? Why no reply?
Moon Hayeon didn't bombard him with messages all day long. That restraint only made it more terrifying.
She sent texts precisely every two hours. If there was no reply, the follow-ups came every five minutes. Exactly from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., as if she'd set an alarm just to check in.
Take this morning, for example. He'd only said he had to head out and might not be able to stay in touch, yet the long, relentless replies kept pouring in no matter how much he tried to brush them off.
He had no idea how lucky he was not to have agreed to keep contacting her or go out together.
Park Jungwoo shuddered at the inexplicable chill creeping over him, dragging his feet in weary steps.
Even after three days, his back still throbbed with a dull ache, making his wobbly gait painfully slow. With his head held unnaturally stiff and his eyes fixed straight ahead, he looked almost comical.
The outing had stretched longer than he'd planned, and his sluggish pace wasn't helping.
Hunter weapon shops dealt in all sorts of gear, but bullets were rare. Few hunters sought them out, and selling to civilians by mistake could spell disaster.
In his fruitless search for unpopular, uncool weapons, he'd wandered from place to place. Now he was even in another neighborhood.
With his ammo completely depleted, he couldn't just sit around waiting for restocks.
It only hit him after checking three spots: call ahead first. A sign had promised discounts for cash, so he was heading to the bank now.
"Gotta save every penny."
He'd never had much to begin with.
His high school part-time savings were dwindling, and skipping a 5% discount just because he hated walking more felt like a waste.
It was 4 p.m. Spring was fading, and the day had grown quite warm.
In this heat, he had his mask on tight, sunglasses perched firmly, and the hoodie hat pulled low. Not even a celebrity, yet bundled up like this—no wonder he was exhausted.
The ridiculous getup stemmed from his texts with Moon Hayeon.
-But really, I'm just curious, so why'd you pick me?
-The reason? Gotta spell it out?
-No other motive. Pure curiosity.
-You'd rather I tell you?
-Yeah. I'd be happy if you did.
-Your height and face are my type, and you glance around like you've got no experience.
That was the backstory behind the tightly wrapped face and the neck so rigid it barely turned.
Face to her taste? So he hid it completely. Liked his glancing? He locked his gaze forward.
The "height and face" part baffled him. But what could he do? To avoid repeats, he'd even wear an upside-down delivery box if needed.
Jungwoo let out a hot sigh beneath his mask as he climbed the stairs to the second-floor bank.
Ding dong~
The automatic doors slid open. Even in Seoul, this was the outskirts—nearing closing time, the bank was quieter than expected. He savored the cool air, pulled a number ticket, and took a seat.
Thinking about his account balance soured his mood, but the naive hope that he'd scrape by after hitting a gate lightened his expression a bit.
'Hm?'
His eyes rolled beneath the sunglasses. Everyone in the bank was sneaking glances at the same spot.
Unconsciously, he started to turn his head, but caught himself and twisted his whole shoulder to follow their gazes.
There sat a woman whose outfit clashed blatantly with the bank.
*
The most striking feature was, without doubt, her vibrant golden blonde hair. Straight strands draped over her nape. Not dyed, perhaps—every slight tilt of her head sent glossy waves rippling through it.
Even from the side profile alone, her face was stunningly refined. Thin lips and narrow eyes gave her a snakelike vibe, if comparing to an animal. The faint smirk tugging at her mouth looked utterly sly.
Of course, her features and hair color weren't the only things making her stand out. From her nape down to her legs, sleek black fabric hugged every curve without mercy. The kind they called a rider suit?
Even at a glance, the voluptuousness was obvious. Her chest was smaller than Moon Hayeon's, but anyone would seem flat beside her—exception granted.
Objectively speaking, ample breasts, a slim and healthy waist, wide hips, and toned thighs—all eye magnets.
Bank or not, her outfit and figure anywhere would've drawn stares.
As she fanned herself facing forward, her gaze suddenly swung my way. She flashed a grin and waved. I realized I'd been staring outright and whipped my eyes away in a panic.
Click clack.
Footsteps approached from this direction.
"Staring a bit much, aren't ya? Turning your whole body like that—why bother with the sunglasses~?"
A light, papery voice laced with slyness rang out. She plopped down in the empty seat beside him.
His body shrank back instinctively. He clamped his slightly parted knees shut, balled his hands on his thighs, and pressed them hard against his legs.
"F-first time seeing clothes like that. Just... curious."
"Not the clothes—you were staring at me, right?"
With his head bowed, her face popped into view. She leaned in at the waist, gazing up at him with a grin full of mischief.
He had no clue how to react. Beneath the sunglasses, his eyes darted wildly, desperately evading her stare.
"Nobody minds a look. You could be honest, y'know? It's fine, really—no plans to get mad."
Would she report him? Was he the one getting the red line, not Moon Hayeon?
Panic surging to the ceiling, he scooted over to the next seat without thinking.
"What, dodging now? Kidding, kidding. You stared so hard I figured you were from the Vigilante Corps or something. Seriously, it's cool."
Vigilante Corps? The name made him freeze and glance at her.
Why bring it up here? One more scrap of info piled onto his already tangled thoughts, fueling the chaos.
"Customer number 128!"
She'd been soothing him with a stream of chatter but turned at the call. With an apologetic smile, she patted his back. His whole upper body jolted, squeezing out a couple of "ugh" gasps.
"Anyway, sorry. Gotta head out now. You shouldn't linger either—just go home today. Not a great day for sticking around."
He slowly straightened his still-hunched body. He watched her retreating footsteps: thud thud.
...Had he seen her somewhere before? Why mention the Vigilante Corps out of nowhere? Was she a criminal hunter?
Cold sweat trickled down. If so, what now? Call Moon Hayeon—no, the Corps?
He fumbled for his phone in his pocket, forcing his stalled brain into gear. Beneath the mask, his ragged breaths condensed into droplets.
The obsession to do something dominated his mind. Sitting here like this, he'd never overcome his weakness. He'd be forever trapped by Moon Hayeon, hiding behind allies despite an S-rank skill, mocked in headlines as a coward...
"Kyaaak!"
A clichéd yet frantic scream pierced the air. No time to wallow in helplessness or gloom. He shot to his feet on reflex, flustered eyes scanning around.
"E-everyone, stay calm. I don't wanna drill a hole in this lady's neck either, y'know?"
Amid the wavering stares, there she was. She'd circled behind the desk, pressing a short dagger to the employee's nape.
Her empty hand hovering in the air looked far deadlier. Blue electricity crackled viciously in her pale palm.
"A-a hunter!"
"C-call the police—no, the Vigilante Corps!"
The quiet bank erupted into pandemonium in seconds. She fixed her narrow eyes on the chaos, then sharply inhaled.
"Quiet!!"
Silence fell like a splash of cold water. Her dagger twitched lazily, its razor edge grazing the trembling staffer's neck and drawing a scratch.
"I don't want anything else. Just bag up all the cash here and hand it over—I'll take it and go. See? No mask on me. You know what that means."
She casually tapped her cheek with her sparking finger as she spoke. Her words flowed as naturally as water—clearly not her first rodeo.
An unmasked criminal hunter. That simple fact implied two big things. One: she was strong enough to evade capture so far. Two: she was confident she could slip away clean right now.
His trembling hand had unconsciously found the grip of the gun tucked at his waist.
...His dream was fame. But with one condition: earn it through good deeds as a righteous hunter.
Proving to the world who he was. That he was a good person. That he was useful.
He knew the call from his dizzy head couldn't be right. Even so, impulse swept him away.
Of course—no bullets. He'd come out today to buy some. But at this range, flashing the gun might scare her a bit? Buy even a little time?
Maybe this very moment was his shot at being a hero. Ceiling and floor swapped in a blur, numbing his already frayed nerves further. Adrenaline yanked his fading thoughts back.
"S-stop it!"
Faster than he'd ever moved. He drew the gun and aimed it at her. She'd been smugly surveying the hushed crowd but turned calmly to face him.
"Why? Gonna shoot?"
Hah. She clicked her tongue in utter disbelief. She shoved the employee aside with a bump. Slowly twitching the dagger in one hand, she eyed him.
"A gun, huh. Freshly minted hunter license, acting like you can do anything. Back off? I'm nice, but I'm no saint who sits pretty while you threaten my life."
"S-stealing money is wrong. If you stop now..."
Someone report already, quick. He anxiously scanned the seated crowd. A few were slyly reaching for their phones.
"Oh yeah? Then ogling someone's body—is that a good deed? You were staring me down earlier. Thought the shades hid it?"
One corner of her mouth curled in a mocking smirk. The quiet murmurs swelled again. He started to protest it wasn't true, but she cut him off.
"Eh, whatever. Doesn't mean you're wrong to call it out. Kinda hilarious, though?"
A "pfft" chuckle burst from the bowed heads. She scanned the room leisurely, as if savoring the scene and barely registering him.
She spread her lowered arms wide. Like go on, shoot—tapping her chest.
"You even confident you'll hit? Miss, and you're dead. No time to reload—you know that, right?"
"...I know."
To hide the bluff, he spoke in a voice brimming with resolve. His gun hand shook. He aimed at her chest from mere steps away, then veered slightly aside.
He had to stall as long as possible. No undoing what he'd started—somehow, just a bit more.
A glint lit her eyes as she watched him. No bothering to mask the sneer now, she taunted.
"Oho. Even playing merciful? Hurts my pride... Hey. Shoot already. Quick."
His mouth went bone-dry. He spotted someone twisting around, hastily fiddling with their phone.
What happened if busted? Did he buy enough time? Zero certainty—tears threatened to spill any second.
Would she retaliate for the gun-pointing? Yeah... He side-eyed the window. Toss the gun, bolt that way—
Click. Plop.
...Utterly anticlimactic. Her hand had silently snatched the magazine right in front of him.
"Hey."
She peered into the mag. Fingertip tracing the empty spots where bullets should've been, her eyes sank as she glared at him.
"...What the hell are you doing?"
Pure incredulity in her tone. Fury flickered in her twitching brow.
His grip slackened. The heavy metal clanged loudly against the wooden floor.
"Ha, seriously. What a goddamn clown..."
She tossed her dagger to the floor. Grabbed his collar and yanked him up.
Silence blanketed the room. Even the phone fiddlers stared at him, dumbfounded.
Through the sunglasses, her eyes blazed like fire. He squeezed his shut tight, bracing for impact.
His toes lifted off the floor.
He was hurled toward the wall.