Refining (15)
Non-lethal bullets work effectively in most situations.
Regular bullets can be stopped by reinforced skin or other protective measures. Of course, this was meaningless information against those thugs. Against proper mercenaries, destructive power couldn't be guaranteed.
Unless it's an extreme case like Brown Hood, most mercenaries or gang members wear implants. Non-lethal bullets work on them.
They're much more expensive than regular bullets, but I didn't need to worry about money. I could afford that investment.
Besides, considering how easily people die in this city, I needed to at least check who was killed by my guns.
A stray bullet could kill an important character. Rick, who stands before me now, is also someone who could die from a single bullet.
To prevent my plans from going awry by my own hands, I needed to control who dies.
As I grip the well-polished pistol, I feel the touch of the old piece of metal.
"Sh-shit, he's got a gun!"
"That bastard shot first! Return fire!"
It's contradictory.
If I truly prioritized my survival above all else, I would have just abandoned Stella City and fled.
Of course, that would be dishonorable. It's shameful for a member of the Hansan family to flee from responsibility.
But I wouldn't die. Whatever happens in Stella City without me isn't my concern.
But I didn't choose that option.
"Jack is down! Aim for the head!"
"I-I hit him! I definitely hit him! The bullet bounced off!"
"You must have seen wrong! Damn, he doesn't even have visible implants!"
The same goes for my plan. If I had simply wanted to make allies and reduce grudges, there might have been a slightly more efficient strategy than my method.
What I was doing wasn't entirely meaningless. But it wasn't without risk either.
When this is over, I'll need to clean up the gangs and fight corporations too.
If the original protagonist tries to take me down, they could recruit gangsters or corporate people who hold grudges against me.
Actions have consequences. The more people who try to protect Han Sanwoo, the more people who will try to kill him.
"Die!"
A thug who had somehow gotten close swung a baseball bat at my head.
As I blocked it with my arm, he flinched in surprise.
I pushed him away with my foot, using minimal strength. Unlike with Brown Hood, I couldn't control what was happening now.
I needed to avoid situations where something beyond human strength splits someone's stomach open with a single kick.
"You bastard!"
Gunfire rang out again. That man died.
It was pretense. I couldn't honestly guarantee that I would be willing to abandon everything for my own survival.
But it was necessary. I had to act with a mindset similar to Han Sanwoo's before I entered, and for that, I had no choice but to contemplate what intentions the "evil Han Sanwoo" would have, whether I liked it or not.
That doesn't mean my intentions were good either.
Before pulling the trigger, I checked each person's face one by one. They were unnecessary people.
Ordinary people. Not related to any quest. Not connected to major forces like Rick was. They seemed involved with gangs but weren't particularly important within them.
People who could die.
"R-run away! Bring proper weapons!"
Non-lethal bullets are expensive items. It wasn't good for my involvement in this fight to be discovered.
There was no need for many people to see my face. Although I was disguised, it's better if fewer people saw "an Asian who deflects bullets with his bare body."
That was all there was to it.
"If we run from one guy, what will the others think of us—AAAARGH!"
Overestimating the influence of society and the environment makes people helpless.
It's an act that ignores human potential and despises those who live with dignity despite such circumstances.
But that's not a reason why these people should die.
"P-please spare me! I'm sorry! I know someone in Metal Crab! If you kill me, you won't get away with it!"
White Mountain Street is a decent level street for a slum.
Although it's order maintained by gangs, at least some order is maintained, and ordinary shops somehow continue to operate.
Even in such a street, these thugs endlessly emerge. It's a street where even people like Rick engage in crime.
If you're an ordinary person swept along with others, you have no choice but to get involved in crime. That's the kind of society it is.
I had no right to kill them. But I killed them out of necessity.
The street grew quiet. I briefly composed my expression, thinking about what expression I should make for Rick to consider me harmless.
It was hypocrisy. I killed them according to my circumstances, pretending to be a good person without caring about the people who suffer from my actions.
But I couldn't give that up.
"...Is it safe now?"
Rick was looking at me with disbelieving eyes.
"Let's say you killed these people. This is a gift."
"Huh... what?"
I casually handed him the pistol. It was a classic pistol engraved with the Hansan mark.
"Since you received it as a gift too, don't use it roughly or sell it. The performance should be pretty good."
"I'm asking why you did this."
He's trembling. It's the look of someone more accustomed to receiving hostility than goodwill.
"What could I possibly want from a kid like you?"
It was half sincere. Before fully developing his abilities and inheriting the organization, Rick was just an ordinary thug.
"I'm a Hansan person... and I hope we can work well together in the future. That's all I can say."
Rick thought for a moment and then accepted the pistol.
"Alright."
Rick nodded. I gave him a small smile, then ran toward those who would be watching Enzo.
***
"I heard you had a rough experience, Mr. Enzo."
There were men in suits before his eyes. Having regained his composure, Enzo could look at them more objectively.
"It wasn't that rough."
"But you were attacked by the Macheonpa faction."
It wasn't a significant incident. It didn't lead to actual armed conflict, and nobody died.
It was something extremely common on White Mountain Street. Not an incident that would involve police or be covered by reporters.
It was strange that they knew about it.
Their eyes weren't looking at Enzo as a person. They had no intention of genuinely sympathizing with his pain. They had other intentions.
"Fortunately... no dangerous situation occurred."
"You were lucky. Well, those guys probably didn't plan to assassinate you openly. But if you had been taken, they would have tried to persuade you in a more forceful way."
They're trying to deceive him. Enzo felt uneasy.
"Actually, this is an open secret... that law that forced the company to fire you, Hansan was involved."
Enzo couldn't help but be surprised. He was involved in a much more dangerous incident than he thought.
"Isn't it obvious that the Macheonpa faction is connected to Hansan? They surely consider you a thorn in their side."
"When you first arranged the interview, you didn't mention this!"
"We didn't know either. We knew it might be a bit dangerous, but..."
The suited man gave a vile smile.
"Didn't you expect this, Mr. Enzo? We wouldn't give you such a large sum just for one interview."
Enzo nodded with difficulty. The suited man's words were somewhat logical.
But it was also a Hansan employee who saved him from danger.
"Is... is Hansan really targeting me?"
"Of course. I think it would be better for you to be under our protection... We don't know what a Hansan employee might do if they contact you."
They don't know. The suited man was completely unaware that Enzo had received help from a Hansan manager.
"Since you're involved in a dangerous matter, we'll provide you with a generous allowance. We'll also look for a new job for you."
"Is that true?"
He has a child. Rick may not be a reliable son, but he was the only family that he had to protect and depend on.
Perhaps lowering his head was the right choice.
He felt nothing but gratitude toward the Hansan manager, but in the end, that person was just a stranger.
For Rick's sake, he could give up. Giving up might be the more correct choice.
"Now we're in the same boat. I hope you'll keep that in mind during the next interview."
But he couldn't make a decision.
If that manager had tried to protect him just because of a sense of kinship as a "father," that was a debt he could never repay in his lifetime.
Enzo had learned how to run away before learning how to repay debts. Although he had grown up and gotten his act together enough to get a job, responsibility was a distant word for him.
"You don't need to be so frozen. No matter how powerful Hansan is, they can't harm you through our escort."
This isn't pure escort. This is surveillance of him.
He didn't want to pretend to be nice now. He was also a member of White Mountain Street and had been involved in numerous crimes.
He had yielded to injustice countless times. He had also backstabbed others for his own benefit.
The opponent is a corporation. The person who cursed at him and pushed him roughly as soon as they saw him at the police station, the person who detests him.
If he refuses the instructions of the suited men now, it might become dangerous. He might not be able to protect Rick.
'Hah...'
Enzo inwardly sneered. It seemed he was still insufficient to be a proper father.
But it was tit for tat. Rick had also committed fraud for the children he looked after and put Enzo in danger.
Enzo made his decision. The suited man nodded with satisfaction.
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