READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 7 - A Coincidence for the Protagonist
Translator: FenrirTL
Editor: ford53
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< Chapter 7: A Coincidence for the Protagonist(3) >
Since China became a no-go zone, Incheon’s descent was rapid.
Corporations facing the wave of economic depression either ran aground or fled to other cities.
Half of the port was shut down, countless residents left for larger cities like Kaesong or Busan, and the number of empty houses and slums increased year by year.
The title of Korea’s third shining city had long become a vulgar joke mocking the old times, at least on the surface.
Internally, Incheon was, in fact, thriving more than ever before.
“Military goods snuck out from the Manchurian Rift, remains of monsters, smuggled goods coming through the Kaesong Dimension Gate, and drugs and weapons flowing in from Southeast Asia and Australia… There’s nothing you can’t find in Incheon’s black market.”
Jangman said, adding a sentence afterward,
“Though this could hardly be called prosperity.”
He explained that the current state of Incheon was like the bloated belly of a dead animal.
It seemed large only because it was filled with waste, maggots, and gas instead of the blood and flesh that should be inside.
Eventually, the rotten belly would burst, and all sorts of repulsive things would spill out.
The first victims would undoubtedly be the citizens of Incheon.
“…It’s a dreadful situation.”
“Indeed, it’s dreadful.”
Jangman and Dung Beetle conversed as they walked through the abandoned logistics complex of the closed-down port.
Although Jangman was leading the way with Dung Beetle following, Jangman kept glancing back whenever he could.
Not for any significant reason, but because the large sports bag Dung Beetle had brought with him caught his eye.
The bag, filled with something, had rectangular shapes bulging out in places – anyone with a clue could tell they were bundles of bills.
As they approached their destination, Jangman couldn’t suppress his curiosity any longer and he asked,
“Where did you get that bag of money?”
“It’s the manager’s money.”
“…The manager? The Cleaners Guild manager?”
“Yes.”
Understanding the meaning behind that single word, Jangman shook his head in disapproval.
‘Revenge has already begun, hasn’t it?’
With that last thought, they reached their destination.
The most secluded part of the logistics complex, in a decrepit warehouse with its roof stripped away.
“Here…?”
“This is a secret entrance leading to a secretive market. Just so you know, don’t even think about coming alone. You might lose your head.”
Jangman entered the warehouse without hesitation.
The interior was overgrown with weeds, just like the outside. Jangman strode across the warehouse, trampling over the weeds.
He moved on to the wall opposite the entrance and began to feel around certain spots.
“It should be somewhere around here… Ah, found it.”
When he pressed a spot in the middle of the wall, the wall beside the button slid open with a rasping sound.
Beyond the opened wall lay a rough staircase descending underground.
“It’s rusted more than when I was last here. Be careful coming down, it might collapse.”
Jangman said and went down the stairs first. Dung Beetle adjusted his bag and followed him onto the staircase.
Creak, creak.
With every step, the old metal staircase screamed out, spitting rust.
After roughly a hundred shaky steps, about the height of a three-story building deep, the rusty staircase finally revealed the bottom.
‘…A warehouse?’
Contrary to Dung Beetle’s tense expectations, beneath the staircase was a warehouse cluttered with all sorts of boxes.
Brand-name snack boxes, gun cases stamped with the U.S. military mark, and more.
It was a space hard to define, but without offering any explanation, Jangman began rummaging through this box and that.
About a minute later, Jangman approached Dung Beetle holding a box full of masks.
“Pick any mask you like here.”
Jangman said and selected a snake mask from the box, putting it on his face.
“A mask? Is it like a rule specific to the black market?”
“It’s closer to an unwritten rule than an official one. It’s not the kind of place where you want to reveal your face.”
‘Of course.’ Dung Beetle picked a sun-shaped mask from the top of the box, where the dust had piled thickly.
“…Are there any other unwritten rules?”
As Dung Beetle dusted off the mask and asked, Jangman shrugged and replied,
“Don’t kill anyone, don’t steal… Given the nature of this place, not many other rules are followed.”
“…It’s chaos, then.”
“Yes, it’s chaos.”
After ensuring that Dung Beetle had put on his mask, Jangman promptly opened the door to the warehouse.
Creak.
The worn-out iron door screeched open, and the first thing to greet them beyond it was bright light and the smell of the sea.
The next thing they encountered was…
Click.
“Who are you? Who gave you permission to enter through the back door?”
Three gun barrels awaited them.
The moment they faced the three men in black suits pointing guns at them, Dung Beetle reflexively threw the money bag.
“Dung Beetle! Wait!”
Jangman’s shout was a tad slower than Dung Beetle charging at the guards.
Thump! The man in front took the bag full on and fell over. At that moment, Dung Beetle had already zoomed past him to rush at the second man.
His speed was beyond that of an ordinary person, but no matter how fast, he could not outpace a bullet.
However, the brief misdirection caused by throwing the bag, combined with the guards’ dismay at not expecting to be attacked, created just enough time for a few blinks.
In that brief span, Dung Beetle smacked the second man’s jaw. Crack! The second man’s eyes and legs gave way.
Dung Beetle seized the falling man’s head to use as a shield while charging at the last one—a fluid sequence of moves.
“Stop! Dung Beetle! Cease!”
It was Jangman who halted Dung Beetle, who had been about to assault the last guard using the human shield.
After looking back and forth between Dung Beetle, who had incapacitated two guards, and the guard still aiming his gun in shock, Jangman sighed.
“Phew, let’s talk first before… ”
“You, who are you! You think you can attack us here and get away with it!?”
The guard seemed to regain his composure for a moment, yelling as he raised his gun. Jangman’s eyebrows furrowed once again, already having halted the fight.
“Shut up, you idiot! Pointing a gun at a guest right away. Is that how Yosef taught you?”
Yosef.
As that name was mentioned, the guard’s eyes noticeably changed. The man holding the gun glanced sideways at Dung Beetle as he stammered,
“Are you… Yosef’s… guests?”
“Would we be thieves, then? Go call Yosef.”
“But Yosef does not meet anyone without an appointment…”
Smack!
Jangman strode right up to the man and slapped him across the face. The slap was heavy with emotion.
The guard, his cheek swelling red, seemed unable to grasp the situation and just clutched at the pain.
“I’ll consider the earlier rudeness null, but there won’t be a second time.”
“…”
“Right now, inform Yosef that ‘guests have arrived through the back door.’ It’s not your place to judge, it’s Yosef’s. Got it?”
The guard nodded blankly, still bewildered. He quickly pulled out his phone and made a call, from which dreadful curses could be heard.
The guard’s face turned pale upon hearing the swearing. It was unclear whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, but the call didn’t last long.
As soon as the call ended, he promptly bowed deeply before Jangman.
“Yosef has said he will meet you personally.”
“Where?”
“At the Weapon Market. I-I will guide you there myself.”
Though the guard looked at him imploringly, Jangman’s response was icy.
“I know where the market is, there’s no need for a guide. Take care of the other idiots.”
With that, Jangman looked back at Dung Beetle, who had strapped the money bag back on and followed him into the black market.
After passing the alley in front of the warehouse and turning into a small passageway, the black market unfolded before them.
True to its name, the scene in the black market was different from any typical market.
The street vendors were not selling food but rather indescribable remains of monsters and weapons.
Instead of merchants, the entrances to the shops were guarded by people armed with submachine guns, eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
And above all… there were diverse races.
Dwarves and orcs, species Dung Beetle had only seen on TV, stole his gaze.
‘Is this really the Incheon I know?’
He had seen elves a few days ago, but they were all corpses.
This was his first time seeing living diverse races, shouting and haggling just like humans. Such a sight was not common in Korea, let alone the United States.
As Dung Beetle was caught up in the novel scene, Jangman, walking beside him, spoke up.
“You fight well. Did you learn martial arts somewhere?”
The question was loaded with many implications. Dung Beetle shook his head.
“I haven’t learned any martial arts.”
“So all those moves were purely instinctual? Heh, a superhuman is indeed a superhuman.”
‘Superhuman.’
Dung Beetle thought it wasn’t just for that reason.
At the moment the gun barrels were in front of him, his body moved on its own.
From the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes, every cell in his body acted preemptively, ahead of his thoughts.
Could this really be just because he was a superhuman?
What flickered in Dung Beetle’s mind was Mignium’s voice.
‘I shall bestow upon you a talent that no human could ever dare to touch. A talent to achieve revenge and reap even more lives.’
The talent that Mignium had given to Dung Beetle.
Could this be what that talent meant?
Even the gods beyond the dimensional gates had not shown such miracles as bestowing talents upon someone.
If this talent was truly the power of Mignium, then what was Mignium’s true identity?
As Dung Beetle’s thoughts wandered, Jangman stopped in his tracks.
Dung Beetle followed Jangman’s gaze and turned his head. Far ahead, at the entrance to a large commercial building, someone was looking straight back at Jangman and Dung Beetle.
Even without anyone telling him, Dung Beetle knew that individual was ‘Yosef,’ as mentioned by Jangman.
He had a distinctive feature that set him apart from everyone around.
He was not wearing a mask. He confidently showed his face, leading more than a dozen burly men armed with submachine guns.
“Old man! It’s been a while since you’ve come through the back door!”
Yosef, having approached them, spread his arms wide and shared a hug of reunion with Jangman.
“Yosef, you’ve become even more dashing since I last saw you. Have you been well?”
“Don’t even mention it. Just last month, a terrorist attack happened at the Road Howe Academy in Australia, halting all weapons smuggling to Australia. At this rate, I won’t even be able to feed our boys, you know?”
While exchanging such words with Yosef, Jangman glanced subtly at Dung Beetle.
“A new porter for you, old man? Looks pretty frail.”
At the blatant comment, Jangman gave a short cough.
“Hmm, he’s not a porter, he’s a customer.”
“A customer? If you brought him yourself, old man…”
Yosef’s eyes changed. If a moment ago he looked like a simple thug from the village, now he had the gaze of a merchant with decades of experience.
“What kind of things have you come for?”
“…Weapons.”
The answer came not from Jangman but from Dung Beetle. Yosef grinned, revealing his gums.
“Weapons, you’ve come to the right place. Isn’t Yosef here the best arms dealer in Incheon? Guns, bombs, mana weapons from beyond the dimension gate! Just tell me what you want.”
Yosef declared with confidence. His demeanor was overly cheerful for someone selling deadly goods, but Dung Beetle paid no mind.
He wasn’t new to dealing with people of frivolous judgment.
After hesitating briefly, Dung Beetle stated what he wanted.
“Necromancers-”
His sentence was cut off by a clear, bright voice.
At the abrupt interruption, Dung Beetle frowned, and everyone turned their heads.
“You are Yosef, right? The most prominent arms dealer in the market.”
Behind the crowd, a woman wearing a black dog mask crossed her arms and faced them.
“I booked an appointment and have been waiting for two days, but it’s incredibly hard to even see your face.”
Amid the sudden intrusion that left everyone speechless, Yosef responded with a pleasant smile.
“Ma’am, there are many fine arms dealers in this market besides me.”
“But only you sell weapons smuggled from beyond the dimension gate. I have no interest in ordinary military supplies.”
Her light tone, gestures, and the certain childishness she exuded…
Dung Beetle guessed that the woman in the black dog mask was quite young. At best in her twenties, or perhaps even younger.
“I’m sorry, but I only sell mana weapons to verified individuals.”
“Are those pickpockets verified individuals then? The old man and the fool with the money bag?”
The provocation was crude. No one here was naive enough to fall for such a low-level provocation. Her provocation only ended up giving them a reason.
“Ma’am, causing disputes in the black market can be grounds for expulsion.”
At Yosef’s snap of the fingers, the bulky men around him simultaneously raised their submachine guns. It was a clear order to leave.
The dog-masked woman was neither flustered nor ran away. She alternated her gaze between Yosef and the submachine guns and then asked in a low voice,
“Is this how you treat your customers in the black market?”
“It’s an unwritten rule for dealing with troublemakers in the black market.”
“Troublemaker? Then what do you call a merchant who takes other customers after making someone wait for two days? A bastard?”
‘Bastard,’ Dung Beetle snickered at her direct language. Yosef also seemed taken aback, pressing his forehead.
“Ha, guys! It seems our guest has had a bit too much to drink. You should escort her to the entrance.”
As soon as Yosef finished speaking, three bulky men aimed their guns at the back of her head.
They seemed ready to shoot if necessary. She peacefully raised her arms.
“No need for an escort. I’ll leave on my own two feet.”
With those final words, the dog-masked woman walked away without looking back through the crowd.
‘…What was that?’
Watching the woman disappear from view, Dung Beetle felt a peculiar sensation.
Something tickling inside his chest and his mind getting tangled. It was a sensation similar to… an odd premonition.
A strange premonition that he would encounter that woman again before long.
“Now, let’s put that unpleasant matter behind us and return to business. What kind of weapons are you looking for, sir?”
Yosef continued the conversation, unaffected by Dung Beetle’s premonition.
Dung Beetle, trying to suppress the bubbling premonition, hesitated briefly before responding.
“The same kind as that woman who was just chased away.”
“Oh?”
“Weapons for dealing with a Grand Necromancer. Do you have them?”
Yosef raised an eyebrow. Two customers looking for weapons against a Grand Necromancer?
His merchant’s instincts were piqued, but he hid his curiosity. After all, a merchant’s priority was the deal at hand.
“Hmm, sir. Those tend to be quite pricey…”
As Yosef’s voice trailed off, Dung Beetle set the bag down on the ground and unzipped it.
Zip.
Inside the wide-open bag, bundles of 100-dollar bills with Benjamin Franklin’s face on them filled the view.
“I have another bag just like this one. Is it not enough?”
As Dung Beetle zipped the bag back up, Yosef smirked and replied,
“A cash bag, eh? You seem to know how to do business, sir.”