Squatting in front of the guy whose head was just peeking out of the hard concrete, I continued my questions.
"What are the drug's effects?"
"Well... I don't know the full details myself. All I know is that physical abilities fluctuate wildly depending on emotional changes..."
"...It changes depending on emotional shifts?"
"Yes, that's what I heard."
It sounded preposterous, but it didn't seem entirely off.
Kim Jeonghun went through intense emotional changes while fighting me.
Rage, fury, absolute wrath.
Each time his anger towards me deepened, his body also underwent significant changes.
In the end, he unleashed such immense power that his own body couldn't withstand it.
"Rage-13..."
Even the pill's name contains the English word 'Rage,' meaning anger or fury.
That means the more emotional one gets, especially the angrier, the stronger they become.
I asked the guy again, who was nervously darting his eyes around, trying to gauge my mood.
"What are the side effects of the drug?"
"Uh... if you keep taking the drug, it gets harder and harder to control your emotions, so they warned us to be careful when selling it."
Since it's a drug, addiction is a given.
And losing control of emotions... that means someone could literally commit murder over a mere shoulder bump.
What would happen if hundreds, thousands of people with such anger management issues appeared in Korea?
"Ugh, horrifying."
Just thinking about it is horrifying.
"Huh? What's..."
"Your face is horrifying, you bastard."
"......"
"Wipe that expression off your face, unless you want to die."
"Hehe, my face isn't exactly great, is it?"
Desperate to live, the guy even took my almost unreasonable taunts in stride.
"Who supplied you with the drugs to sell?"
"Well... I got it from a guy named Yongseok, who's in the Axe Gang."
Yongseok of the Axe Gang...
Just by the sound of it, he's clearly not the top dog.
"That bastard isn't the highest up, is he?"
"From what I heard, the entire gang seems to be involved in the drug dealing business...?"
"So, gangsters are trying to change their line of work..."
Gangsters and drug dealers.
Both are equally despicable trash, but the latter probably rakes in more cash.
Of course, the risks would be higher, but people living dead-end lives wouldn't care about that in the first place.
"Yongseok's contact info?"
"It's saved on my smartphone, but..."
Meaning it's buried underground.
Well, that works out perfectly.
I used the 'Dig' spell again to dig up the ground.
Rumble!
"Come up."
"Y-yes."
Perhaps because his body had been tightly bound in the dense earth, the guy awkwardly scrambled out.
"Ugh... I thought I was going to die."
I spoke to the guy, who immediately slumped down and started vigorously rubbing his arms and legs.
"Call that Yongseok guy, or whatever his name is, and tell him to meet you."
"Uh... what should I say?"
"Just tell him you sold all the drugs you had and need more."
"Aha."
It's truly exhausting, working with an idiot.
The guy took out his smartphone, made a call, and immediately started talking to someone.
"Hey, Yongseok, it's me. Can I get some more drugs? Yeah, yeah, I sold all the ones I got last time. How'd I sell so many...? Uh, I reeled in a real sucker. He's practically begging for more, going absolutely nuts."
The guy continued the conversation more skillfully than I expected.
At least I could tell he wasn't particularly close with this Yongseok fellow.
He's lying so smoothly, as if he'd buttered his tongue, just to save his own skin.
"Oh, you know the place. The one we always meet at. Yeah, yeah. I'll leave right away, so it'll take about... thirty, forty minutes. Nah, it's fine. I can just go and wait first. Yeah, okay."
The call ended after about three minutes.
The guy took the smartphone away from his ear and looked up at me.
"We agreed to meet at the bar we usually go to. It's about a 30-minute drive from here, but he said it would take him about an hour..."
An hour or so, what's the fuss?
"Lead the way."
"Yes..."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The 'friend' Yongseok, whom the guy introduced, was the very picture of a gangster.
He had a 'ê¹ë기 머리' [a short, blocky haircut often associated with gangsters], a menacing face, and a tight suit that barely contained a bulky body, filled with what could have been muscle or fat.
Dealing with him was surprisingly difficult.
"Ugh, he's so big, I had to dig a bigger hole."
Because of his large size, I had to dig a bigger hole, and breaking through the concrete consumed a tremendous amount of mana.
The drug dealer, buried next to the 'ê¹ë기 머리' guy with only his head peeking out, asked me in an aggrieved tone.
"No, boss. Why me too...?"
"......?"
What is this guy talking about?
"Is there any reason I shouldn't bury you?"
"...Fuck, no."
"Exactly. That's why you're buried."
I had no further business with that guy, so I left him be.
I summarized the conversation I had with Yongseok, who was now docile, sporting two black eyes.
"So... your entire Axe Gang is involved in drug dealing, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Where did you get the drugs?"
"That... my boss brought them, so I don't really..."
"Ah, I see."
This is turning into a real chain reaction...
"Where's your gang's office?"
"Uh... it's not far from here. Go straight at that intersection, then turn left..."
"Oh, oh. I know the place."
The guy kindly gave directions to the gang's office.
How great would it be if everyone in the world was like these guys.
Then, with a little re-education, world peace could even be achieved.
What a shame, what a shame.
"I think I've told you everything I know... so you're going to let me go now, right?"
Yongseok asked me in a surprisingly cute voice, unfitting for his menacing face.
"Yes, I think I'm done with you guys."
Now that I know where their office is, all that's left is to take out their boss, right?
My car's too small anyway, so I'll just leave these guys here.
"Alright... it's time for us to part ways."
I took a plastic bag containing red pills and various other drugs from my pocket and stuck it to their foreheads.
The guy then asked me with a puzzled expression.
"Uh, boss? Why the drug bag on my forehead...?"
"This? If I stick it here, it'll be easy to see, won't it?"
After making sure the drug bag was securely attached, I opened my smartphone and called 112 [the Korean emergency number, like 911].
"Yes, hello. This is in front of the ââ bar. There are some guys selling drugs in the alley next to it, and I've got them detained. I've secured the evidence too, so please come and arrest them. Yes, goodbye."
After saying what I needed to and hanging up, I squatted down and bid a final farewell to my 'dear friends.'
"Boys. The police will be here to pick you up soon."
Talking to them, I realized.
How kind and innocent these kids were.
Or maybe not.
Or was it just that all the criminals I'd met so far were bastards who deserved to be torn to shreds, making these guys seem relatively kind?
Anyway, they seem kind to me.
"I'll make sure to put in a special word so that no matter what kind of dog-shit you guys pull, your sentences won't be reduced. So, let's live diligently this time and come out. Then you'll live as new people. Got it?"
"......"
"......"
Leaving the two guys who were looking up at me with expressions that clearly said, 'What kind of bastard is this?', I forced myself to walk away, though my steps were reluctant.
I earnestly prayed inwardly.
Please, become new people.
Otherwise, you'll die by my hand.
*
Life is always a series of choices.
And opportunity hides somewhere among them.
It was a saying he lived by, a creed for a man with little education and boundless ignorance.
'This is an opportunity.'
It had been 15 years since he started making a living with his fists.
A new opportunity had come to him.
An opportunity to earn far more money than the protection fees he extorted from prime businesses in Gangnam, though it would be far more dangerous.
Selling new types of drugs.
It was an incredibly dangerous endeavor, but he accepted it without a moment's hesitation.
'Gangster or drug dealer.'
A life already at its dead end.
It was fueled by the inflated hope that it would be better to make a big score quickly and decisively, then escape to the countryside or overseas and live a life of luxury.
In fact, things were going well.
They were recruiting dealers who frequented famous clubs in Gangnam, slowly releasing samples to secure customers. Soon, with the finished products, they would captivate their 'lovely' customers and rake in money.
'It should definitely be like that.'
They say disaster strikes suddenly, without any warning.
"Kuaaak!"
"Kkeuheok!"
One punch, one down.
The man approaching him, knocking down gang members one by one, was exactly that.
A familiar face, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
'Where on earth had I seen him?'
As he desperately tried to calm his pounding heart and racked his brain, thinking it over and over.
"Keok..."
Finally, the man—no, the grim reaper—who had knocked out even the action squad leader with a single blow, stood right before him and asked.
"Axe Gang boss Park Cheol-hwan, right?"
They say gangsters live and die by their image.
He forced his body, which was shrinking in fear, to straighten up and retorted with a surprisingly calm expression.
"Yes, I am Park Cheol-hwan. Which gang sent you?"
Gang, he says.
The only 'gang' the man, Kim Dojin, currently belonged to was...
"Uh... Hankuk University's Heonjahwi club?"
"......"
That was the only one.