Chapter 125
"Nice to meet you. My name is Goran Alexandrovich Gergeyev Горан Александрович Гергиев. You can just call me Goran."
"..."
"And you?"
"...Pardon?"
"I asked what your name is. Shouldn't we introduce ourselves to each other?"
"Ah. Uh, yes."
His tone was gentle, but unbefitting of it, a loud, grating voice that sounded like crashing thunder mixed with iron filings vibrated through the air.
At some point, the Customers had disappeared.
Thinking seriously about exactly when it happened, it was probably from the moment the mountain-like Old Man in front of me started talking to me.
The moment he entered the bar and asked, “Could we have a quick chat?”, the Customers suddenly drained out like an ebbing tide.
This was despite the fact that a torrential downpour was still washing away the Alleyway Outside.
I had been dumbfounded by their perfectly coordinated Movement, as if they had all planned it together, but thinking about it now, I should have run away then too.
That thought grew even stronger after hearing Goran, that white-haired giant of a man, pat my stiffened shoulder with hands the size of pot lids and say, 'Don't worry. Even though you cut off my retarded Grandson's arm and made him a true retard, I have no intention of retaliating over that. For now, at least!'
"Haha, it's a joke. A joke."
His mouth was laughing heartily, but The Deep blue prosthetic eye set deep within his sunken socket was staring at me without a single twitch.
That didn't seem like a joke.
"So, what's your name? Did you sew your mouth shut, why aren't you speaking?"
The way he Persistently tried to exchange names, even though I had an Employee Name Tag pinned to my chest.
"..."
I'm not the type to get intimidated easily either.
That was true when I swung a chainsaw at Man Hunter Alexgey trusting only a single chip in my head, and it was true when I charged at the terrorist gang Leader in the name of protecting the bar.
Let Alone now, when I had acquired a new weapon applied with the latest Technology called a Nanosuit Uniform, and had even become a true member of the bar as a Full-time Employee.
No matter how great a Troublemaker, terrifying Ronin, or Magnate appeared, I was confident I could handle them well.
But this time, something was different.
A pressure that made my skin tingle just from his presence, a large and solid physique like a brown bear that looked capable of lightly tossing or tearing apart an Ordinary Person like me as if I were a paper doll.
I could feel it; the human himself was strong.
I had a premonition that no matter how good my cyberware and Trump Card were, it wouldn't be easy to Leave even a single scratch on that Tough hide.
Not only was that the case just looking at his physical features, but there was also the chillingly sunken atmosphere when that guy carefully opened the bar door and walked in, and the Meaningful words Sey had spat out amidst it.
"I take back what I said earlier."
"...?"
"Now, there might be someone who can stop him."
After saying that briefly, he started wiping a glass.
Before I could even pry into what he meant, the white-haired giant strode over and spoke to me, bringing us to the present without a moment to think.
But looking back...
“If that Monk suddenly goes Crazy and tries to kill the people in the bar—is there anyone among the Customers who could stop him?”
'No.'
That firm Answer had been overturned in just a few hours.
The meaning was obvious.
It meant that this Russian Gym Rat grandpa was a Monster on par with the Shaolin Machine Monk who was supposedly “fucking strong.”
Ziiiip—
As he unzipped his giant-sized XL leather jacket that looked ready To burst, as if feeling stifled, the Criminal Tattoo detailing his Criminal Record, characteristic of the Red Mafia, and the Octagonal Tattoo ominously rippled while soaked in moisture.
...To think this Yangban is the Man Hunter's grandfather.
It seemed he hadn't passed down many good genes to his Grandson.
Should I call it Tiger Grandfather, Dog Grandson Tiger祖Dog Grandson instead of Tiger Father, Dog Son Tiger Father, Dog Son?
That bastard Alexgey should have said something beforehand if he had such a reliable grandfather as a Patron.
Then I might have reconsidered cutting off his arm a little bit.
"...Phew."
I let out a tension-filled sigh while having these idle thoughts.
I thought work would wrap up peacefully today, but... there's never a quiet day.
Is it me, the Employee, who's the problem, or is it my Workplace, Dragon's Lair, that's the problem?
"Welcome. I am Aaron Nakamura, the On-site Manager and Trainee Bartender of Dragon's Lair. How may I help you?"
I don't know, so let's just do my job for now.
* * *
The good news: the giant grandpa, Goran, didn't seem to hold any grudge against me.
I mean... how should I put it.
It felt like he was brushing off even the fact that his Grandson's arm got cut off with a “kids will be kids when they play” kind of attitude?
He laughed heartily, saying that boys naturally grow up splattering blood, and as long as he wasn't dead, he didn't even care about something like that.
It was a toughness befitting a Tough Guy from the Bear Country. It was so Tough that it practically suffocated me.
"By the way, you were quite soft on him! If it were me, I would have just cut off his dick entirely. Is just one prosthetic arm enough? You should have just made him a eunuch."
"Uh..."
"Yeah, Tell me! Am I wrong?"
"No, it's just..."
How exactly am I supposed to respond to him talking about cutting off his own Grandson's dick?
Anyway—if this was the good news, naturally, there was bad news too.
"Oops, did I bother you too much? You've got a look in your eyes telling me to hurry up and order."
"Uh, no, sir."
"Ehew, when you get old, you should just die. Anyway, young folks these days find it too bothersome to even keep Old Men company..."
Far from dying, the massive Old Man who looked like he'd still be going strong even if he aged another hundred years said that, and then ordered me to bring him any Vodka-based Cocktail.
A Vodka Base cocktail... the Bartenders would figure out what to make.
I passed the order to Tony, whose hands happened to be free, and helped with the Cocktail Making.
And what I heard from Tony, who had sharp ears for city news, during the Process was this.
The bad news: the Man Hunter's grandfather, that giant grandpa in front of me, was a massive Magnate.
The Supreme Boss of the Red Mafia, the Russian Bratva gang, which was spread throughout the entire city.
He was the Crime Lord called by the affectionate title Papa Goran among Russians, and by the bloody nickname Red Mountain among non-Russians.
I had expected him not to be an ordinary Old Man just by looking at him, but he was an Old Man with even more clout than I had anticipated.
This is getting a little unfair.
“No, you didn”t Tell me the Man Hunter was the Grandson of such an incredible Yangban.'
“I didn”t know either, Punk. I just heard it for the first time. To think Red Mountain had descendants. It seems he was hiding it.'
“He was hiding it?”
“It doesn”t Make Sense that no one knew otherwise. Red Mountain has bought a lot of grudges here and there, so it could be to avoid retaliation against his Family. Or he could have hidden him because he's an illegitimate child. Also...'
'Also?'
“He might have hidden him because he was ashamed of his Grandson being called the Man Hunter. That side”s culture is a bit conservative too... and he's not exactly the type of admirable grandchild you'd want to openly brag about, right?'
'Aha.'
After hearing Tony whisper those words, I understood immediately.
True, if it were me, I'd want to pretend I didn't know if my Grandson went around raping guys' assholes too.
“But why would he...”
The problem was that after pretending not to know all this time, he was now revealing their blood relationship.
That Head of the Red Mafia proudly introduced himself to me as the Man Hunter's grandfather.
Why did he suddenly reveal something he had hidden so thoroughly here?
“Maybe there”s something he wants.'
That thought crossed my mind, but the problem was what he could possibly gain from it.
The advantage of revealing his blood tie to his gay Grandson? I couldn't easily think of one.
Whatever he wanted, it seemed like it would only take a hit to his reputation.
Anyway, there's never a peaceful day.
Following the Shaolin Machine Monk, now the Red Mafia Boss. Facing two prominent Customers back-to-back in one day was making my head ache.
Even if I let the Rubber Monk slide, I thought the Dragon President had said back then that he had Taken care of the aftermath and resolved everything with the Red Mafia himself, so they wouldn't bother me anymore.
But I had no idea why the Bratva gang Godfather had suddenly popped up. Even if the Dragon President was a bit frivolous, he wasn't the type to go back on his word.
As I was grumbling like that while assisting with making the cocktail, Tony cut in from the side.
"Hey, Punk. Shh. He'll hear everything. Do you know how good that grandpa's ears are?"
At this distance, and muttering so quietly that you couldn't even properly hear what was being said, there was no way he could hear it.
Unless he had Superhuman Hearing capable of distinguishing the sound of every single flap of a mosquito or fly's wings, it made no sense.
I thought that, but I didn't bother refuting Tony's words.
...You never know, right? It wouldn't hurt to be careful.
When I stayed quiet, making a gesture of zipping my lips, Tony chuckled and placed the finished cocktail on the tray.
"Here. Oh, and... as you know, if I had to say, I'm someone who belongs to the Boss's Staunch Opposition—which is why we bicker and fight every day, right?—but still, it doesn't seem like it's entirely the boss's fault this time."
"Pardon?"
"Because the boss told us in advance. That he would come visiting sooner or later."