79. The Executioner Im Jaebaek (1)

The story behind how Im Jaebaek came to be called the Executioner.

‘It’s a name he earned by lopping off the heads of evildoers and stringing them up, no holds barred.’

‘No. It was vengeance.’

A common enough story. An older brother had volunteered for penal labor to save a younger sibling who’d been swindled out of everything. He toiled away for years, only to be handed back a corpse gone cold.

‘I heard he prepared meticulously and pulled off his revenge for the sibling.’

‘He had talent and tenacity.’

Even through the penal labor, Im Jaebaek never once stopped whetting the blade of his vengeance. Once he’d confirmed his sibling’s death, he waited a few more years for a surer kill, then wiped out every last member of the organization responsible. Even afterward, the flame of fury in his heart never learned how to go out.

‘He took to hunting down and killing criminals as a means to vent his grudge.’

‘I’m starting to get hazy on what the standard for “hero” even is.’

Tsk, tsk.

How could anyone fathom the lofty heart of our exalted Constellation.

Yujin clicked his tongue.

“Seems you’re doing well for yourself, debtor. Got the breath to spare for clever wordplay, even.”

A bald man swaggered up, the Seagulls gangster who’d hauled so roughly at Yujin’s arm back in the car.

Yeah. I’ll be sure to remember your face specially.

— Putt-putt-putt.

A small boat drew near, throbbing with the engine note peculiar to a fishing vessel. From the boat, now moored at the shore, stepped a man in a suit, dressed all wrong for the mood of the place.

“Let’s see now. One little, two little, three little, raccoon, squid. Everybody’s here?”

“How long ago did I send you people, and you’re asking me to round up five more!”

“Aw. Jiwon, my man. Cut us some slack on our situation here.”

“Shit. These aren’t just any debtor brats — do you have any idea how hard it is to scrounge up Martial-line types?”

“And we pay you well enough for it. Bear with it.”

“Keep this batch breathing as much as you can. We’ve got to lie low for a while.”

The two of them traded whispers at a distance the debtors couldn’t catch. The suited man gave a knowing nod, then walked over to them.

“To those who’ve come to find new hope. Welcome.”

“Hope? You drag us off practically by kidnapping over an unpaid debt, and now you spout this bullshit?”

When one debtor raised his voice, the suited man’s brow furrowed.

“You there, sir. I’m still talking, aren’t I?”

— Whack!

The debtor’s face snapped to the side. He never even registered the instant the 2nd-Rank Martial-line Hunter moved; he simply took the fist and crumpled. Blood streamed from his burst lips and nose, staining the sand red.

“So shut your mouth and listen. Deadbeats don’t get the right to speak.”

The suited man’s voice dropped the frozen mood colder still.

“You son of a bitch!”

“You want to come at me? All the better, really. I just have to kill the lot of you.”

“You’re not scared of the Hunter Association?”

Crimes involving Hunters were treated as special offenses, whatever the weight of the crime. They held power beyond an ordinary person’s, and they had skills. A Martial-line type at just 2nd Rank could kill an ordinary man with ease, and on the magic side nothing but a mana wavelength was left behind, which made it far simpler to pass a death off as an accident.

“Listen well, you idiots. You think the higher-ups are going to come all the way out here, knowing where this is?”

“B-but a mana wavelength still gets given off!”

“You’re all bottom-feeders anyway. The world won’t notice if one of you dies. Want me to kill one to show you?”

When the suited man laughed flippantly, every face among the four debtors but Yujin’s turned a sickly blue. After the prowess he’d put on dropping a single one of them, it was clear that even if all four rushed him at once they wouldn’t win; they’d be cut down like dogs.

‘At that speed he’d be 4th Rank. And it looks like he hit a wall a good while back, at that.’

‘He probably knows how to unfurl aura, too. He’ll hold a fairly high post among these Seagulls or whatever they are.’

Few organizations could boast as many as four 5th-Rank executives the way the Red Spider had. A 4th-Rank type was a powerhouse, treated as a senior figure in any outfit.

Yujin watched the suited man’s manner and speech at his leisure.

‘A fitting show of force. This isn’t his first or second time.’

‘It stings to be compared to a lowlife like that.’

Unlike the other four, Yujin’s expression hadn’t changed. The suited man seemed to like that, and came closer to clap him on the shoulder.

“Sir. I like you. Since you’ve sunk this far down anyway, you just pay it off in earnest and walk out. Right?”

“The bottom, huh.”

“Let’s see here. Your name is… Park Gitae. Aigoo! You pulled out a billion won?”

Park Gitae was the cover name the Madam had given the man.

Hearing a sum I never actually borrowed, I don’t feel much of anything.

The suited man mistook Yujin’s stillness for shock and laughed heartily.

“You’ll just have to grind it out here three years. Don’t worry. Work hard for exactly that long and it’s all settled.”

“Thirty million won a month, huh. Generous of you.”

“Right? Meeting a debtor I can actually talk to puts me in a fine mood.”

The suited man clapped his hands, clap, clap. Once he’d made sure every debtor’s eyes had gathered on him, he called out as though he were doing them a tremendous kindness.

“Hey. Feeling generous. Mr. Park Gitae, I’ll knock a year off for you.”

At the suited man’s bombshell, the debtors’ eyes went wide. The man who’d taken a fist and crumpled was no different.

“K-knock it off for me too!”

“Where do you get off doing that for him alone? That’s low!”

“Ah. That eagerness — very good. Then I’ll cut everyone’s penal labor by a third.”

The debtors cheered.

Yujin took a step back and snickered.

‘Kronos. You know why that man’s handing out reductions like he’s feeling generous?’

‘It means he has no intention of letting them go home alive.’

What good was a third off, or a year? If they died before serving out the term, it all came to nothing. A slick operator handing out reductions this freely meant only one thing: he was certain the debtors would be dead long before then.

Though he hadn’t caught the conversation the two men had traded off at a distance, Yujin grasped the whole situation from circumstance and a few snatches of dialogue alone, without ever stepping onto the scene himself.

‘Not the smuggling line. A gate, maybe?’

All he knew was that Im Jaebaek had endured years of penal labor. Exactly which organization, and what work he’d been mobilized for, he couldn’t say.

‘No use. He’s a fellow I had little point of contact with.’

‘Mr. Im Jaebaek would have been 2nd Rank around this time. But if he survived, then so can I.’

There were three transmittable skills.

I deliberately didn’t pick any new fields, either.

I’m holding cards that let me create variables no matter what situation I land in.

‘If it really comes to it, I’ll get back alive on my own at least.’

‘Just spare me the hero talk. That’s all.’

Letting Kronos’s nonsense go in one ear and out the other, Yujin boarded the putt-putt boat.

— Putt-putt-putt-putt.

The fishing boat cut across the sea, pressing eastward.

How far had they gone, I wonder.

A foreign smell threaded into the briny air.

“Bleh. What’s that stink?”

“Smells like something rotting.”

“Are we supposed to be clearing out waste or something?”

The debtors grumbled, each pinching his nose shut.

Yujin stole glances past the deck. Beneath what had once been blue sea, something pitch-black swayed this way and that, swept along by the current. Figures in diving suits rose and sank, over and over.

‘So they were having them harvest strong moss.’

‘That’s right. Our Constellation’s eye for things has come along nicely.’

Strong moss was a seaweed that surfaced only now and then in underwater-type gates. It was also a material needed to craft a Blood Golem, so it was nothing unfamiliar to Yujin.

‘I didn’t know there was an erosion zone like this in the East Sea.’

The Seagulls’ main source of income was supposed to be smuggling.

I had thought it strange, watching them move relentlessly eastward.

“How about it? Your new workplace, debtors.”

The small fishing boat came to a stop at an island adrift in the middle of the sea. Temporary buildings had been thrown crudely together, and rusted containers set out in place of lodgings deepened the dreariness.

“Why’s there an island in the East Sea? Doesn’t look like Ulleungdo or Dokdo, though.¹”

“It’s a place that surfaced along with the erosion activity. Small as it is, it handles room and board well enough.”

A gate’s erosion had mutated the terrain. A small island had surfaced, and in the sea around it grew the strong moss needed for alchemy and leather-gear crafting. It couldn’t match the Crimson Camouflage that had been one of the Red Spider’s mainstay revenues, but it was enough to keep the Seagulls fed.

“What are those corpses?”

“Nothing to worry about. This being an erosion zone, monsters turn up now and then.”

I wonder about that.

For something brushed off as nothing, the rotting monsters along the shore were too many, and far too large. Yujin’s eyes wouldn’t leave the carcass of a monstrous fish with its bones laid bare.

‘That’s a Genocide Salmon — a 4th-Rank monster.’

‘He’d struggle in the sea.’

Even when a Hunter gained power surpassing humanity, the fundamental nature of the creature didn’t change. Put another way, they had a hard time drawing out their full ability in the ocean.

‘A fish and a man who lives with his feet planted on the earth can’t be the same.’

The suited man guided the debtors toward one of the containers.

— Dong. Dong.

A bell rang out, and those who’d been harvesting strong moss in the sea came back to the island one by one. Their diving suits had mana stones fixed to them, gear that warded off the poison the strong moss gave off and made it easier to move underwater.

“My beloved debtors. A new comrade has arrived.”

“Another batch of reinforcements?”

“That’s right. Now we can fill the quota.”

“Don’t go acting like you’ve done us a favor, sticking us with small fry. Just guarantee our safety.”

“Director Im. After all the care I put in, it stings to be talked to like that.”

— Pwoom!

A shockwave erupted as the suited man drove out a fist. It stopped a hair’s breadth from the face of the man called Director Im, but he didn’t so much as blink.

“Kill me if you want to.”

“Ha. That’d be a bit of a problem. Thanks to you, Director Im, the debtors’ working hours and efficiency have gone up.”

“Damn it. The Genocide Salmon’s about to wipe us all out!”

“Which is exactly why I’m asking you to look after the new ones well.”

Director Im snarled like a wounded beast. The suited man let that rage pass with composure and beckoned to the debtors, Yujin among them.

“Director Im here will teach you debtors the worth of labor.”

“A director — does that mean you’ve got a foot in the Seagulls like this man?”

“Kah, what an amusing joke. Director Im owes a bit of a debt, just like you debtors.”

Director Im’s brow twitched. Over his bared forearm, the tendons stood out in stark relief.

Yujin slowly approached the man.

“You’re Im Jaebaek, aren’t you?”

When he murmured it quietly, Director Im’s shoulders gave a slight tremble.

That was as good as an answer. Well, then. No need to linger any longer in a place this thick with stench.

The suited man flinched at Yujin’s words, then closed in with killing intent rising off him.

“Mr. Park Gitae. What’s your relationship with Director Im…?”

— Klang!

A sharp tone rang out, the kind that sounds when metal strikes metal. A Skeleton Knight sprang up out of nowhere and swung its blade, surging in at the suited man.

Even at the sudden strike he didn’t panic, crossing both arms into an X to blunt the force of the sword blow.

The Skeleton Knight’s twin swords scattered crimson light. The Dark Fighting-Aura, which should have been black, came out red under the influence of the sword art.

— Kraaang!

Unable to dissipate the immense force loaded into the blade in time, the suited man was driven dozens of meters back.

Director Im’s eyes trembled violently. He worked his lips again and again, and at last, forcing strength into them, spoke.

“Who are you?”

“You can just call me Cheon Yujin.”

Pleased to meet you, future Executioner.

I’ve got plenty to say, but since in this life it’s our first meeting, let’s start with introductions.

Yujin wore a leisurely expression at odds with the mood.