Chapter 12
Chapter 12
You're Next to Die
* * *
* * *
Ssshhhh.
I walked through the rain that had suddenly started pouring down. Normally, I would’ve gone into the Hyperloop stop and waited for it to pass, but I wasn’t in the mood.
All I could think in my daze was, Looks like Attitude will evolve safely.
That’s how shocking Thomas’s death was to me. I’d always known that I’d part ways with him someday. But not like this.
Of course, it was true that I’d gotten used to goodbyes. I’d changed identities at least ten times by now.
A body that had witnessed countless farewells. I didn’t scream or fall into despair anymore.
I never wished for this kind of life, but it was the one I’d ended up living.
Even so, the line between the part of me that mourned sincerely and the part of me that had grown tired and resigned was strikingly clear—
‘I'm sick of this.’
Maybe I’d grown too hardened. My cold, rational mind didn’t waver in the slightest. Even in this moment, I was still relentlessly digging into the causes of the events, thinking only of how to reach the end of my revenge.
It was almost painful to wonder if this could be called sincerity.
I’d been aware of it for some time now.
Moving my base every twenty years was just another way to avoid tragedies like this.
When someone I loved,
someone I liked,
someone I wanted to remember,
disappeared so meaninglessly—it hurt.
That’s why I kept drifting without ever putting a period at the end. So that I could always look back on the times that had shone so brightly. So that I could imagine they had found peaceful rest.
It was an expression of weakness, and undeniable proof of a hollow void.
But for now, I had to set that aside.
There would be time for sorrow later.
Tap.
I stopped walking, and the neon sign came into view.
Club, Davinu.
The answer must be there.
* * *
Mark, who greeted me like a drenched rat, lit a cigar.
“Not looking too great. So even you couldn’t track down Yang Hu, huh?”
His tone sounded concerned, but I could sense a subtle discord beneath it.
“When I think about it, it was strange.”
After being off the grid for a year, Mark suddenly showed up and offered me a job.
And claiming it was hard to tell because the guy was Asian? That was a flimsy excuse at best.
Especially since Mark was a high-ranking officer in one of the two organizations that ruled this city. He wasn’t the kind of man to get his hands dirty.
For someone as authoritarian and conservative as him to approach me so easily—
That wasn't something that happened out of whim.
People didn’t change so easily.
Only situations did.
Which meant there was only one conclusion.
“You kept rambling on with excuses—that wasn’t like you at all. You’d figured out who I was.”
The moment New Delbuyer started catching on to Thomas, he’d subtly tipped his hand.
He hadn’t offered that information out of kindness—he’d said it on purpose.
To observe how I would react.
Up until just before I came here, he must’ve still been unsure.
“You know, I thought it a year ago too, but you really are damn sharp.”
Mark let out a low chuckle, no longer hiding his true thoughts. Just as I’d said.
In truth, he had seen it as a fifty-fifty chance. That’s why he hadn’t made a move too soon.
But once I returned, everything became clear.
“So, you really were Yang Hu.”
Like a needle in a pouch—it didn’t matter how well it was hidden, it would always pierce through eventually.
From the time I was just a greenhorn, I had been a subject of research for Mark. I never aged, no matter how many years passed. It wasn’t something that could be explained by body constitution or upkeep. It was a phenomenon far beyond that.
So naturally, he became interested.
At first, it had been simple curiosity.
Then he started discovering a few connecting threads.
The time I appeared strangely overlapped with the time Yang Hu disappeared. And the old man I kept close turned out to be the key figure of the Millennium Code Gate.
He’d learned the latter by chance while digging through intel.
But when coincidences stack up, they become inevitabilities.
My eyes lit up as I grasped the full context.
“You were the one who leaked the information about the Master to New Delbuyer.”
“I needed to be sure.”
“Why go this far?”
“Because it’ll get me results. It’s what I need to become the next boss. If I take you down here, my position will become rock solid.”
“So you didn’t tell New Delbuyer. You decided to handle it yourself.”
Obviously planning to capture me neatly and use me for a convenient deal.
“Pathetic. I don’t have time to listen to this trash.”
As I rose from my seat, Mark’s men surrounded me. The cramped space filled with nothing but distrust pointed in every direction.
“Who gave the order?”
“I told you. New Delbuyer.”
“I’m asking who in New Delbuyer. Tell me, and I’ll make it painless.”
That arrogant declaration made everyone around us burst out laughing. From anyone’s perspective, I was clearly at a disadvantage. Especially since Mark and his men were recognized elites even within the Guerrilla Family.
I drew a folding knife and murmured softly,
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“You’re the one who’s joking, aren’t you?”
With a gesture from Mark, his men began drawing their guns one by one. Overkill, considering they were dealing with just one person. It was more like they were preparing for a territory war.
“I don’t know what the hell gave you the confidence to walk in here without any defenses, but this is the end for you.”
“Come to think of it, you’re my handler, but you’ve never actually seen how I operate in the field, have you?”
“Is that supposed to matter?”
“If you’d seen it even once, you wouldn’t have made this choice.”
“So this is a fixer’s pride?”
I had survived in this line of work for a long time. That alone was enough to earn me a certain degree of respect. But that was where it ended.
Even if I were to display performance beyond imagination, the ending wouldn’t change. The numbers—and the armament—proved it.
“Then do your best so I can regret it.”
The moment Mark lowered his raised hand, gunfire thundered through the room. Shooting carried out without a single blind spot. There was nowhere to dodge, so everyone believed without a doubt that I was dead.
But to me, death was the most worthless word of all.
The counterattack had been decided the instant my head was pierced once.
Slash.
Something flashed, and one of the men collapsed. An abrupt, unforeseen turn of events. A comrade had gone down, but the rest didn’t hesitate and immediately continued their follow-up fire.
It was a futile effort.
Once a single person was gone, a hole was bound to open in the encirclement.
Which meant it was the optimal situation for me to move.
The folding knife that cut through the air lodged precisely between one man’s brows. A second victim born in the blink of an eye.
As if determined not to allow any further mistakes, bullets followed, but I ducked my upper body and sprinted forward. It took only 0.2 seconds to cross the room from end to end.
Even including the time it took to retrieve the folding knife and slash the neck of the nearest man, it didn’t exceed 0.5 seconds.
Movements so concise they showed no warning signs at all.
The sight, like livestock being slaughtered, sent the men into spasms as they pulled their triggers, but not a single bullet reached me.
As their numbers dwindled, the paths I had to track decreased along with them.
If I could perceive it with my own eyes, dodging bullets wasn’t difficult.
That was possible because shooting always involved the act of aiming. Aiming after firing was sheer nonsense. No matter how fast one became, the order of the process didn’t reverse. If I caught the moment they aimed, I could easily predict the trajectory.
After that, it was a matter of reflexes.
It wasn’t an innate talent. It had to be called the result of purely acquired learning. If you died a few times, you had no choice but to figure it out.
An experience only I could obtain.
And so, as I rampaged freely through the room, cutting down the men like bundled straw, a massive shadow fell before me. It was Mark, who had been observing the situation until now.
With a flourish, I flicked my ankle, sending the pistol on the floor up to shoulder height, caught it in midair, and pulled the trigger.
But with nothing more than a lift of his right arm, Mark nullified the flawless burst of fire, effortlessly rendering it useless. No—he went a step further and gripped the entire pistol in my hand with a crushing grasp.
We were close enough for our breaths to touch.
Looking down at me, Mark gave a twisted smile.
“I told you about my prosthetic arm, didn’t I?”
In that moment—grip strength: 2,650 kilograms.
The same force as the jaws of a Nile crocodile. Once caught, it could crush a skull with ease. It was a violence no human should possess, but for Mark, it was as natural as breathing.
“Now, it’s time for your punishment.”
Crunch.
The pistol shattered. Bones dislocated.
A sickening crack rang out, followed by thick, sticky blood flowing beneath.
Now the prosthetic was a press, crushing down completely on its target. The transformation from living to dead was just a matter of seconds.
But not even a groan escaped my lips. At my disturbingly flat reaction, Mark sneered.
“Still got some pride, huh?”
“No, this just seemed more comfortable.”
With that, I raised my left fist. Realizing where I was aiming, Mark let out a dumbfounded sound.
“No way?”
It was just a human arm—mere flesh and bone. There was no way it could contend with an arm made of steel and wires. But I betrayed that expectation without hesitation.
Crack.
With brute strength far beyond the norm, I slammed my fist into the prosthetic.
A numbing jolt shot through Mark’s nervous system, and his skin crawled. As far as he knew, I was a natural. There had been no reports of me receiving any augment slot implants.
Maybe I’d secretly had surgery, but even then, this kind of output shouldn’t have been possible.
If there was a possibility—
“Genetic modification?”
Come to think of it, my inability to age could fit into that same category. If I were the heir to a megacorp or an equivalent power, it wouldn’t be so far-fetched.
But that’s where the contradiction arose.
If I were that important, I wouldn’t be running around like a fugitive. Especially without a single device on me. My status was rock-bottom.
In his panic, Mark had forgotten to notice that I didn’t even have that distinctive scent.
Not this, not that.
What did that mean?
Before his mind could arrive at the answer, his instincts already understood.
He’d never heard of such a person in the world—it was absurd, impossible—but still—
“You were just born with it all…?”
“I told you, didn’t I? Idle curiosity can get you killed.”
There was only one thing left I could offer Mark, now that he had crossed the final line.
“Everything you’ve built here will be erased.”
Crack.
I forcibly ripped off the prosthetic arm, and Mark collapsed with a scream, unable to bear the pain. Still clinging to hope, he grabbed the pistol at his feet and pulled the trigger.
Bang, bang, bang!
Three rounds slammed into my forehead—but I didn’t stop. No, I didn’t die.
“What the…”
Just a moment ago, he’d thought he could crush me. He was sure of it—
“I died once too. So now it’s your turn to die.”
I was no longer anything human in his eyes.