Urban Vagabond: Reload

Han Jaechun explained to me how he ended up getting stiffed.

“......A friend who lives in Incheon said there was a juicy job, so I went. He set me up with the work, and...... it was about salvaging smuggled goods from the sea and bringing them in.”

A mission where you dove for the contraband in waters dozens of kilometers off Incheon Port, then swam it all the way back to the harbor through darkness so deep you couldn’t see an inch ahead.

It was hard even for a martial artist who’d trained their body to the limit.

If you were a low-level drifter who hadn’t even learned proper internal energy, you’d have to gamble your life.

I realized why Han Jaechun’s complexion had looked worse than I remembered, and I said it out loud.

“I’m sorry to say this, but with your skill, it’s a miracle you came back alive and in one piece.”

I’d done every kind of job there was as a drifter.

Just hearing it, I could roughly guess how dangerous it must’ve been.

Coldly speaking, the fact that Han Jaechun hadn’t died was something to be grateful for all by itself.

“......I know what I’m worth,” Han Jaechun replied with a bitter smile. “But the pay was ten times what I usually make.”

Maybe because he’d realized I was overwhelmingly stronger than him, he didn’t put on airs anymore. If anything, he looked more at ease.

“After I finished the job, I was bedridden for almost a week. The first three days, my whole body hurt so bad I couldn’t even move.”

“Did your artificial lower abdomen have any problems?”

“How the hell would you......?”

Han Jaechun stared at me, startled.

The fact that he’d undergone an artificial lower-abdomen procedure wasn’t some huge secret, but he hadn’t expected a stranger to know even that much.

I shrugged.

“I told you. I’m pretty good at digging up information.”

The reason I remembered it even though I didn’t have some deep connection with Han Jaechun was simple.

‘Because he was an artificial lower-abdomen user like me.’

Up until this point, Han Jaechun was still a rare case—an artificial lower-abdomen user.

If you wanted to rank them by procedure history, he was my senior by a lot. He’d gotten the surgery far earlier than I had.

Which also meant his body was more incomplete, had weaker output, and was even riskier.

“I don’t know the details, but I heard that artificial lower abdomens can tear or even burst if you push your internal energy too hard.”

“......After I rested a few days, it got better.”

Despite him saying it was “better,” Han Jaechun’s face looked bad to anyone with eyes.

But I only glanced over his bloodless complexion, then nodded without saying more.

Prying any further would be overstepping.

“So the smugglers are the ones who stole your pay?”

Han Jaechun shook his head. He said the person who’d promised to pay him was the middleman—his acquaintance.

“The bastard I trusted as a friend went to ground. Even when I went to the sect he belongs to, they played dumb and said they didn’t know where he was. When I tried to press them, I just got beaten instead.”

Han Jaechun’s eyes were bloodshot as he let out a dry, resigned chuckle.

“If you call me a fucking idiot sucker, I’ve got nothing to say. I’d known him for over ten years, so I just believed him. Fuck.......”

That was how drifter work usually went.

There was no real system, and unless you were a genuine powerhouse, you took jobs however you could—and most of the time you only got paid after the job was done.

‘Low-level drifters often start without even a deposit or an advance. Then they don’t even get a proper settlement, they work themselves to the bone, wreck their bodies, and quit.’

A reality that was genuinely common among drifters.

But “common” didn’t mean it was nothing.

“Han Jaechun.”

I wasn’t going to try to comfort him with clumsy words. I was just going to solve the job I’d taken.

“You said the contraband was an overseas-only herbal sprout, right? How did you know what it was? Usually they won’t even tell you what you’re moving.”

“......One of the drifters working with us tried to pocket some of it and got caught. That’s when I saw it.”

I clicked my tongue like I roughly understood.

“You didn’t get involved because you wanted to score big, right?”

“I swear I didn’t! If I did, I wouldn’t have made it here with all my limbs intact.”

“And the guy who got caught trying to steal it?”

“The smugglers dragged him away. I never saw him again. Probably......”

“He ended up as fish food.”

Han Jaechun stared at me blankly for a beat, then nodded.

‘He looks way younger than me.......’

But the person I was talking to didn’t feel like some young guy. He felt like a drifter who’d been worn down to the bone.

On the other hand, I was thinking.

‘This is probably the incident I know.’

All over the world, countries strictly banned any export of herbal sprouts or miracle-elixir ingredients that were native to their land.

But martial artists—then and now—were the kind of breed who’d jump into a fire pit if it meant getting stronger.

So smuggling herbal sprouts or spirit creatures was a lot more common than you’d think.

‘But if they’re so short-handed that they even need low-level drifters like Han Jaechun.......’

That meant the volume that was about to hit the market was enormous.

As far as I knew, there was only one incident where a massive release of herbal sprouts caused major problems in the near future.

“Did that herbal sprout... look like red ginger?”

“......Yes. That’s right.”

Like he didn’t even have the strength left to be surprised, Han Jaechun answered weakly. I nodded, thinking.

‘Confirmed. It’s red galangal—brought in in bulk from Southeast Asia.’

Red galangal wasn’t an herbal sprout with toxicity or side effects by itself.

If anything, for the price, the effect was excellent—and if you blended it with Korean medicinal herbs, it was great for making mass-issue miracle elixirs. Everyone wanted it, from martial artists in the underworld to low-ranking fighters in the Eight Great Sects.

There was just one catch: if you took too much at once, it put a huge strain on your lower abdomen.

And at this point in time, I was the only person who knew that.

‘But the speed red galangal is hitting the market is about a year earlier than what I remember. Why?’

This was something that would happen in the future, but this wasn’t the timing.

As I tried to guess why, it suddenly clicked.

“Don’t tell me...... the butterfly effect?”

“Pardon?”

Han Jaechun asked because he had no idea what I meant, and I answered with a question.

“Incheon is Golden Glory Gate territory. Before you started working, did you have any kind of talk with them, or did anyone warn you to be careful?”

Han Jaechun shook his head like it was the first he’d heard of it.

“I didn’t hear anything like that.”

The moment he said it, I became even more certain.

‘The Eight Great Sects pulled back because they were watching public opinion, and the smugglers started running wild.’

The Eight Great Sects handled martial-world problems in their regions—problems the government and the Martial Alliance couldn’t manage on their own.

And it was also true that local security held because of that.

Meaning: once the Eight Great Sects’ influence weakened, gaps formed in public safety—and the scale of smuggling must’ve grown inside that vacuum.

‘This could get tangled up with something bigger than I expected.’

After organizing my thoughts, I stood up.

“First, let’s go to the sect that bastard belongs to.”

“......Right now?”

I nodded.

If it was directly tied to smuggling, it could be big, but Han Jaechun’s situation itself was simpler than it looked.

All I had to do was beat a few guys down and collect the pay he was owed.

“Odds are they’re pulling the same crap on someone else right now. The faster we grab him, the better.”

“Uh—just in case, I should say this, but there are a lot of them......”

I went to the corner of the Blue Wolves Office, grabbed my goggles, and grinned.

“Perfect. One of them will know where the guy who stole the money ran off to.”

*****

The Three Evils Society.

A group formed by underworld martial artists who’d learned third-rate to second-rate martial arts.

Some were former drifters, and some had connections to unorthodox factions with decent size.

And the society leader, in particular, had a real knack for things. Recently, he’d gotten one foot into smuggling herbal sprouts from Southeast Asia—and he’d started pulling in a nice profit.

“Drink! For the revival of the Three Evils Society!”

“Cheers—!”

The society leader dreamed big.

Right now, his organization was only twenty people, but he imagined building power with smuggling money, and someday becoming a giant of the unorthodox faction.

Up until the moment a lunatic in goggles showed up out of nowhere and started beating his men down barehanded.

THUD!

“I’m sorry! Please—just spare me once and I’ll turn my life around!”

The Three Evils Society leader slammed his forehead into the floor and shouted in a voice so rigid with discipline it sounded rehearsed.

All around him, nearly twenty members were doing the same thing—foreheads down to the floor.

It was a scene that had unfolded in the span of ten minutes after I broke in.

“If you let us live, we’ll never do bad shit again!”

“Please show mercy just this once, big brother!”

“We’ll really live like good people!”

When I nudged the society leader aside with my foot, the members toppled like dominoes and crashed into each other.

“Get up and do it again. Go.”

“Y-Yes—go—!”

The sight of them scrambling up with faces swollen purple from bruises, then slamming their heads down again, was a full-blown farce.

But the people in it were terrified out of their minds.

‘That guy’s completely fucking insane.......’

‘He just shows up and starts beating us, then tells us to slam our heads.......’

‘At least tell us why you’re hitting us before you hit us!’

Because that one fist dripping blood had already turned the first few who rushed me into pulped meat—and they were still lying there, not moving.

Han Jaechun, who’d watched it from start to finish, swallowed hard. He was wearing a mask too, to hide his identity.

‘This is how he meant he was going to help me?’

When he said he’d help me find the bastard who stole my money, I pictured something like a private investigator’s office.

I never imagined he’d storm the Three Evils Society and smash every last one of them.

After holding the room in that murderous atmosphere for a while, I finally stated why I came.

“You thought you could steal my money and walk away?”

“W-What do you mean, sir.......”

“Lee Jaeik. That bastard stole my money and ran. Where is he now?”

The Three Evils Society leader’s face went paper-white, and he screamed at his men like it was a death wail.

“Call Lee Jaeik right the fuck now!”

A little later.

Lee Jaeik—Han Jaechun’s old friend, the man who’d taken pay earned with life-on-the-line work and then disappeared—came sprinting in, panting, because the boss had summoned him.

“What? Stole money? Who the hell are you—”

“You don’t remember, right? I’ll make you remember.”

He barely had time to stare at the goggle-wearing man with a baffled expression.

THUD!

“Yes! I stole the money! I’m a piece of shit!”

Lee Jaeik dropped right down with the others, slammed his forehead to the floor, and begged without even thinking.

“W-Waaah....... I committed a sin worthy of death! Please spare me!”

Crouching in front of him, I patted his shoulder.

“Your words don’t match. If it’s a sin worthy of death, you should die. Why are you asking me to spare you?”

“Wha—hhk—! I’m sorry! I’ll transfer it right now! No—I’ll pay in cash! Right away!”

Watching the man who’d once been his friend sob and drip snot and tears, Han Jaechun made a stunned face.

“Hah... it’s this easy.......”

A single person had shattered the Three Evils Society.

The society leader who’d looked down on people with arrogance was slamming his head into the floor, and every last member was sprawled out with something broken.

And yet, at the same time, a question rose in him.

Why would someone with that kind of power help me?

Why step into the filthy story of a low-level drifter like me?

—Han Jaechun. I really want to help you. I want to find justice for you.

Was that “justice” line—naive enough to sound like he didn’t know the world—actually sincere?

Either way, Han Jaechun already knew what he had to say to me.

‘Thank you.’

I don’t know if I can ever do something like that for you, but if I ever get the chance, I’ll repay what you did.

To say it, Han Jaechun walked toward me.

He was going to say it was enough, that I could stop the revenge now—that even the bitterness in his chest had melted away.

But then, he saw me lean in and whisper into the Three Evils Society leader’s ear.

“Where did you hide the smuggled goods?”

The way I lightly smacked my lips—

It looked more villainous than anyone he’d ever seen.

And Han Jaechun was truly, violently confused.

‘Justice...... it has to be, right?’