42. The First Step Toward Expanding A Faction (1)

“The fifth one, at last.”

A black obelisk thrust skyward as if to pierce the heavens, and Yujin made no effort to hide his satisfaction.

“Boss. Is this really the last one?”
“When have you ever seen me make an empty promise?”
“Well, fair enough.”
“Pack up. We’ll be heading back soon.”

After sending Kang Minho off, he laid his palm against the flesh-built structure.

The more the Black Obelisks were linked to one another, the more the buffs granted to Necromancers and undead piled up.

For now it’s just summoning limits and a combat-power boost, but.

Once their number grew further, the corpses within the domain would rise on their own as undead. The wraiths of those who’d died without rest would swarm in, and the death-energy would grow stronger still. It even dealt debuffs to the living. The name “City of the Dead,” Necropolis, fit it perfectly.

Could I even defend them?

Wouldn’t it be fine to give up one or two Black Obelisks? The more benefits the network granted, the higher the risk that came with it. If a linked obelisk was destroyed, the rest of the structures halted their functions too, and recovering from the shock took time.

With five, it’d be about two hours.

The more the link count rises, the longer the downtime gets.

Link ten and it was ten hours. Connect the network’s maximum of twenty and the whole thing went dead for three full days. High risk, high return. Given how dangerous the borderlands were, linking five into a network this early was already quite the gamble.

House Romanov disabled the Black Obelisk first, too.

Before the regression, he’d made Kaesong his Necropolis. A site ill-suited to defense, open on all sides and flanked by the Yeseong River. Magic-line Hunters had crept up the river in secret and poured powerful magic onto a single tower, disabling it, and every buff that had blanketed the whole domain was nullified.

How am I supposed to stop someone who’ll go so far as to use a Relic?

Gambantein. Odin’s Relic, a powerful staff specialized in magic nullification.¹

Though what they used was a replica.

Counterfeit or not, it was an artifact onto which Odin had layered the very concept of a Relic. With Gambantein they nullified every kind of intrusion-defense art he’d set throughout the Necropolis. That was how they’d pushed him from Kaesong all the way back to Seoul, and the reason the stage of his last battle before the regression had become Seoul.

I won’t fall for the same trick twice.

Yujin clenched his fist tight.

“If you’re all set, let’s head back.”

The Scraps’ faces lit up.

“We’re finally going home.”
“Boohoo. I can finally eat home cooking again.”
“Sleeping rough — farewell.”

Every one of them was beaming.

— Master. Then I shall guard the new domains.

“No. You’re coming too.”

— Is it all right to leave the Necropolis empty?

“Eh, if it gets raided, it gets raided.”

There was a network-link penalty, but he hadn’t invested much, and he could restore it quickly enough if he set his mind to it.

“I’ve cleared out the monster settlements nearby once over, so what’s the worst that could happen?”

— That sounds far too complacent.

“It’s fine if one or two get wrecked.”

That much was within expectations.

If some over-specced monster like Eye-Patch goes on a rampage, I’ll just have to hand them over. What else can I do? If Fafnir can’t hold it, then it can’t be held.

“As long as it’s nothing on that order of variable, we’ll be fine.”

— Understood.

Fafnir nodded.

Kang Minyeong was humming under her breath.

“Bro. It’s nice that there’s less to carry this time.”
“I never even asked you to carry anything, so what’s the complaint?”
“Last time I suffered like a dog because the undead said they couldn’t fight with the luggage, you know?”
“It was good experience, wasn’t it?”
“Bro, you really ought to learn a thing called sensitivity.”

— Bleeeh.

Watching Kang Minyeong stick her tongue out, he was struck by a fresh wave of feeling.

When I saw her before, she was expressionless.

She had been the target of a commission, he the one who carried it out, hardly a relationship that left room for smiles. And yet it felt strange, that the one whose life he’d ended by his own hand was now laughing with a mischievous look.

The future is changing.

The change came home to him through Kang Minyeong’s easy, unguarded manner. It wasn’t yet drastic enough to sway the world at large, but Yujin’s strides were steadily reshaping a future of ruin.

I know. The Seven Great Families, and the Constellations behind them.

For a future of easy living, he had to gain power rivaling the Seven Great Families, or surpassing them. If not, this world would not leave him be.

The change starts now.

Chewing over the view of Seoul he’d glimpsed just before the regression, he turned to the Scraps.

“You’ve earned it, so take two weeks off.”
“You for real?!”
“Hoping I’ll change my mind?”

The twins glared at Lee Seongmin.

“Boss. Then we’ll gather at the Paju workshop two weeks from now.”
“No backsies, okay?”

Yujin chuckled and waved a hand.

“Stand there gawking and the joke might turn into the truth.”
“B-Boss. We’ll see you later!”

Afraid he might catch them, the three turned their backs and hurried off into the distance.

Uh, hm. Still, it’s a little lonely.

— Heh-heh. Is your master not here at your side?

“Thanks for at least being around.”

— Not honest, are you. You may be more grateful than that.

Yeah, yeah. I’m so grateful I could just about cry.

Around the time the Scraps had vanished completely from sight.

— Now then, tell me, slowly.

“Tell you what?”

— What master plans to do after sending the Scraps away.

He’d caught on. Yujin scratched his head roughly.

“Spider hunting.”

— Bzzt, bzzzt.

A building where a cheap neon sign reading Milky Way blinked on and off in a loop. This was where every commission in Ground Zero changed hands.

“They’ve put the door back on.”

— Creeeak.

A noise that grated on the inner ear. He opened the door and stepped inside to find the shop tidied up neatly, unlike last time. Faint jazz laid down a low floor of sound, and over it all manner of people spilled out their own stories.

— A cacophony, plain and simple.

“That’s the charm of our establishment, you see.”

The reply came from inside the bar. The Madam approached Yujin’s side with a bewitching smile.

“We meet often. Keep this up and I’ll grow attached.”
“Does the Madam even feel that sort of thing?”
“Hoho, I’m a person too, you know.”

The Madam laughed, covering her mouth.

Tossing out a line like that with eyes cold as the dead of winter. Impressive.

Yujin didn’t bother replying and sat down in front of the bartender.

“We meet again, sir.”
“I’ll have the same as before, if you don’t mind.”
“Heh-heh. Next time, do give me a chance to show what I can do.”

The old man set a glass of milk on the counter with a kindly smile. The Madam let out a short sigh at the sight.

“You’re a man with no sense of style.”
“I don’t really know much about the taste of liquor.”
“The Galaxy Pub is a bar, you know. That won’t do.”
“I especially tend not to drink when there’s business to talk.”

At Yujin’s offhand remark, the corners of the Madam’s eyes tilted up slightly.

“Now that’s rather interesting.”
“How do you know what I’m here to talk about?”
“Well, now. You always bring such entertaining topics, sir.”

So she wants me to broach it first. Fine. Talking in circles isn’t to my taste anyway.

“Are you on good terms with the Red Spider?”
“There’s no chance of a healthy friendship there. As you well know.”
“Looks like they’ve been prowling around the Galaxy Pub a lot.”
“Weeell, it’s a powder keg.”

When the words “Red Spider” came up, the Madam didn’t deflect; she answered readily.

“Not going as smoothly as you’d hoped, I take it.”
“Did you know? A spider has eight legs.”
“Meaning it’s no use cutting off just one.”
“Because there’s a limit to the numbers I can mobilize on my end.”

The Madam’s position was that of a broker. She had plenty of connections, but most of them were folk tied to her by money. To root out the whole Red Spider would take all-out war, and mercenaries could never fill those numbers.

“In a war of attrition, my side’s at a disadvantage.”
“But the Red Spider won’t ram into you head-on, either.”
“Thanks to you, Mr. Yujin.”

The crimson camouflage had been the Red Spider’s blood-stone supply, and Yujin had conquered it early. That mineral was worth more than its own weight in gold, and with it gone the Red Spider took a heavy blow to their finances. It wasn’t enough to shake the whole organization, but they’d broken a sweat trying to secure the money-pipe that had been severed.

“I’ll help.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m not so idle that I’d come all this way just to crack jokes.”

The Madam blinked, startled at his words.

“It’ll be different from the crimson camouflage.”
“I know. The Red Spider’s boss is a 6th-Rank Martial-line Hunter, I hear.”

Yujin glanced sidelong at the bartender. He might be an old man making cocktails now, but his true face was that of a Hunter who’d reached the very edge of the 6th Rank. The Red Spider’s attack on the Madam, too, had been timed to the old man’s absence.

“That fellow won’t be able to move rashly either.”
“I told you the Red Spider has eight legs.”
“Wouldn’t it be a lot easier if I tore half of them off?”

— Sigh.

The Madam let out a short breath.

This man. I can’t tell where his limits lie.

A 1st-Rank Hunter who’d slaughtered every last one of the 3rd-Rank Hunters posted at the crimson camouflage. And a ‘Saint,’ the rarest of beings in all the world, who had even worked miracles.

Tear off half the spider’s legs, he says.

Yujin wasn’t the sort of man to come all the way to Ground Zero just to talk big. In that case, it was time to draw up a strategy to fit the commission he’d just declared.

“May I commission the spider hunt to you?”
“And the reward?”
“You’ve surely already thought of something. Please, name it.”
“The spider’s empty seat.”

This time he chose differently from his past life. He would build up his forces more aggressively and widen his influence across the Korean Peninsula, with Ground Zero as the starting point.

“I can’t give you a firm answer. Ground Zero keeps its balance among three organizations, after all.”

The Red Spider, the black market, the Galaxy Pub. There were organizations large and small, but Ground Zero held together because these three bodies kept a tight grip on the flow.

“At the very least, one side’ll be on my team, won’t it?”
“Of course.”

Deal struck. Yujin let a faint smile show.

“Don’t people tell you that you look sly?”
“That’s a rude thing to say.”
“Anyone who saw that smile would think so.”

First Kronos, and now the Madam too. Yujin twitched his cheek muscles at the tyranny of those who’d suppress his fine smile.

“How’s the mood among the hunters of Kaesong these days?”
“Those characters are the same as ever.”
“Good.”

The Kaesong man-hunters. A Hunter group that had set up base in Kaesong after the fall of North Korea. The members called themselves the “Fifth Revolutionary Corps,” but outsiders mostly used the slur “man-hunters.”

“Spread a rumor that the man-hunters are after the Red Spider.”
“You mean to lure them toward the borderlands?”
“That’s right. Find me a suitable method.”
“The spider has a farm it manages in the borderlands.”
“Then I just need to target the area around it.”
“You haven’t… actually recruited the man-hunters, have you?”

Instead of answering, Yujin took a sip of milk.

The spider hunt was the true purpose behind his trek south, behind all those Black Obelisks he’d raised, and the reason he’d packed the Scraps off on vacation.

— So that was the goal from the start, master.

Only Fafnir, who knew the whole of the situation, swallowed a groan and muttered in a sunken stream of thought.

“This is too big a job for a 1st-Rank Hunter to handle.”
“I became 2nd Rank recently.”
“There’s not much difference between the two, but if the person in question says so, then I suppose there’s no problem.”

“Will this do?”
“It’s to my liking.”
“The reward for fulfilling the contract is valid only for the living, you know.”

He chuckled at the Madam’s pointed reply.

“Don’t worry. I’ll come walking back on my own two feet.”

Draining the last of the milk, Yujin rose from his seat.

“Oh, right. Send the data on the Red Spider’s executive ranks to my phone.”
“The entire roster?”
“Down to the 5th-Rank Hunters.”

Yujin’s back receded into the distance. The Madam, who had been gazing after him absently, rose from her seat.

“Mister. Get things ready.”
“Will it be all right?”
“He’s the one who insists on doing it. And… somehow I get the feeling that man will pull it off.”

A man who couldn’t be measured by Stellar Rank alone.

Madam Oh Hyeonjeong turned on her heel sharply, as though shaking off the stray thoughts.

This is going to get busier.

To spread the rumor Yujin had asked for and set the Red Spider in motion, she too would have to bring her every resource to bear.

I’ll put my trust in you.

If things played out just as the commission demanded, the Madam intended to hand Yujin even more than that.