Chapter 69
It was clearly an act of self-preservation.
Even so, I didn’t feel very good about it. They were scum, but they were still the same species as me, with a form much like my own.
“Was that your first time?”
Choi Kang set a hand on my shoulder with a pat as he spoke.
“... Yes.”
“You did well.”
I might have been frightening, but Gyuseon also forced their trembling legs to move, came over, and hugged me.
“Thank you. For protecting me.”
“......”
“I know you went too far to protect me.”
That was true.
I hadn’t wanted to hold back even a little and risk Senior Choi Kang or Gyuseon getting hurt.
“What about you, Senior...?”
“Of course, I’ve had my share of experience. Not a lot, though.”
“... When was it?”
“Do you really have to make me remember? When was it... Honestly, it happened all the time in our day.”
According to Zephyros, people might jokingly call it the Romantic Era now, but it had actually been an age of savagery.
“It was an era when anyone who stabbed you in the back over a good item drop in a dungeon just got killed. Put another way, all the weaklings died to those sucker punches. The ones who went easy on people trying to kill them? They all died.”
So that was why Senior Choi Kang felt almost no aversion to what I’d done.
No, he even thought I’d done the right thing.
“Bacteria do it sometimes, too.”
Startled by Gyuseon’s sudden remark, I asked,
“... What?”
“It’s called autolysis. Sometimes, to ensure the survival of the group, they regulate the population to reduce competition for resources or maintain an environment favorable to survival. The genetic material and nutrients from the bacteria that die are then used for the benefit of the rest of the group. Simply put... bacteria kill their own kind, too.”
“... Why are you suddenly telling me that...?”
They were trying to comfort me.
It was true, but...
But instead of comforting me...
“Pfft.”
“... This is serious!”
“Of course. It helped a ton.”
“I’m never comforting you again. I thought really hard about what to say.”
“Haha, if I laughed, doesn’t that mean your comfort worked?”
“I guess?”
We laughed for a long while in the mansion, where nothing remained but dust.
It felt a little like I’d become a psychopath, laughing after disassembling over a hundred people.
But bacteria did that, too.
For the survival of me and the people I cared about.
There was nothing even the ‘Kim’ bacteria couldn’t do.
**
Since that former Hunter, Fernando Lopez or whatever his name was, had dropped us off and gone back, we needed a car to get around.
Fortunately, that narco Diego or whatever had a garage full of cars.
And not just any cars—it was packed with luxury vehicles.
I picked one of the keys hanging on one side of the garage.
It was a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen AMG.
Why did I choose it...? Well, this area was so mountainous that an off-road vehicle seemed like a good idea.
We drove it back to downtown Bogotá.
I wanted to head straight to the area around Lake Guatavita, but I didn’t want to get into another pointless conflict.
It wasn’t as if I were some once-in-a-century mass murderer.
One mass killing a day was enough.
If I got into trouble with the narco in Guatavita, the same thing would happen all over again...
I needed to settle the situation somehow before going there.
If that proved impossible, well, it couldn’t be helped.
As we entered the outskirts of Bogotá...
Men carrying rifles stopped us.
And they weren’t just carrying rifles.
Behind them, they even had anti-tank weapons like RPGs aimed at the car.
What the hell was this neighborhood?
When I got out and showed myself, the men blocking the road looked flustered.
Someone who seemed to be their commander came up from behind and asked me,
“... That’s Diego’s car. Where is Diego Montero?”
Ah, they’d stopped me because they recognized the car.
Well, if a boss’s car from another territory entered their turf, they’d have reason to be wary.
“What’s your relationship with him?”
“We’re enemies.”
As expected: ally with the distant, attack the near.
They say narcos can be either the best of friends or the worst of enemies. It seemed the narco in downtown Bogotá and the slightly out-of-town Diego Montero were on bad terms.
“I think I took care of your enemy for you.”
“......!”
“Wouldn’t that at least earn me the right to hear your names?”
“If that’s true... then you’re the benefactor who avenged my parents.”
At the man’s signal, the ones aiming their guns at me lowered them.
They lowered the anti-tank weapons, too.
He came up to me, held out his hand, and offered a handshake.
“I’m Raul Marquez.”
“Kim Segyun.”
“You are?!”
Now even the Colombian drug cartels recognized me.
Being famous really was exhausting.
“That car is one of Diego Montero’s most prized possessions. If you came here in it...”
“There’s no one in this world named Diego Montero anymore. Same goes for his organization.”
“Good heavens. No matter how strong a Hunter you are, this is Colombia. Aren’t you afraid of the cartels? Some of their assassins are high-level.”
“Aren’t you a cartel member, too?”
Why was he acting like he wasn’t one...?
“You misunderstand. I lead the Bogotá Vigilantes.”
“A vigilante group?”
“We don’t deal drugs. Our only source of income is the by-products we get from clearing dungeons. We believe Colombia can achieve sufficient economic growth through dungeon by-products alone, even if it stops cultivating drugs.”
“Huh.”
So there were sane people in Colombia after all.
That was right.
This wasn’t the pre-Awakening era anymore. It was the post-Awakening era.
With its large population, Colombia could make a living just fine without getting into the drug business.
In fact, it had far greater potential for growth than shady industries like drugs.
And there was only one reason the drug industry continued.
Inertia.
The country had been led by the drug trade for so long that it just kept going that way.
No one could break the vicious cycle, so it continued on and on.
The two people behind me had been silently listening to our conversation... listening?
Oh, right. Neither of them had translation necklaces.
While they stared blankly at us, Senior Choi Kang stepped forward and asked in rough English,
“I know a Raul Marquez. He’d look a lot like you, but he’d be older.”
“... Are you Mr. Ironwall?”
When Choi Kang nodded, the man bowed deeply at the waist, showing him the utmost respect.
“My full name is Raul Marquez Jr. The person you knew must have been my late father. He told me a lot about you while he was alive.”
“He probably just called me an ignorant bastard. Anyway, he died? Raul?”
“Yes, he passed away ten years ago.”
“Huh. He was a friend who said he’d make a lot of money, return home, and live happily.”
“That money became poison, drawing in the greedy. Diego Montero, that bastard, killed my father for it.”
If he’d cleared dungeons with Senior Choi Kang, he must have had extraordinary abilities, yet it seemed he’d been killed helplessly by the cartel.
“Don’t worry. This friend of mine took care of Diego or whatever his name is.”
“... So it was true.”
What, he hadn’t believed me?
“Thank you, Hunter Kim Segyun.”
He bowed his head, his voice trembling.
“I haven’t done anything worth thanking me for.”
“No. Just tell me what you need. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it.”
Anything? That wasn’t something to say lightly.
Still, maybe I should bring it up.
“Actually, we came here to clear the level 33 Gate at Lake Guatavita.”
“Guatavita? That’s Garcia’s territory. Understood.”
“... Just like that?”
“It won’t be easy, but... As you said, Diego Montero’s forces have collapsed. He’ll probably be busy absorbing them. He won’t want to make an enemy of us during that time.”
“I heard Raul Garcia and Diego Montero were close.”
“Yes, they were.”
“Do you think he’ll let the man who killed his friend pass without a problem?”
“Friend? Narcos don’t have friends. They have business partners. If a friend dies, you avenge him, but if a business partner dies, you toss a flower at his funeral and that’s the end of it.”
Marquez gave a cynical smile as he spoke.
“Give me a day. I’ll get an answer from that Garcia bastard by tomorrow.”
His confident assurance put me somewhat at ease.
Please, let’s just clear the dungeon.
I said I’d clear it!
This is the first dungeon where even getting inside has been this much of a pain!
**
The people living in the area controlled by Diego Montero felt that something was different from usual.
It was as if the eyes that had always watched them had vanished overnight.
The small-time, low-level drug-dealer groups were still around, but they were panicking because they couldn’t contact any of their usual connections.
Right then.
A group bearing the flag of the Bogotá Vigilantes marched in.
They even entered Diego Montero’s mansion and occupied it outright.
Before long, Raul Garcia, who had noticed something was wrong, also arrived in Diego Montero’s territory. But when he saw the Bogotá Vigilantes’ flag flying there, all he could do was let out a hollow laugh.
“They dare, in our cartel’s territory... They’ve lost their minds.”
He could tolerate them playing big shots in Bogotá, even in its rundown neighborhoods.
But this was outside Bogotá.
And if they’d fought Diego Montero... they’d probably suffered severe losses.
He felt a little sorry that Diego had died, but...
Still, if he could use this opportunity to expand his territory...
As Garcia grinned, he spotted a group slowly walking out of what had once been Montero’s mansion.
But...
They looked completely fine.
They weren’t injured or anything.
They were walking out in perfect health.
And there were hundreds of them, fully armed.
Garcia’s face went from stiff to deathly pale in an instant.
How...
They couldn’t win.
If the Bogotá Vigilantes had that many people left after taking on Diego Montero, they’d have to call on the main cartel for help.
It was right then.
Garcia’s phone rang loudly.
The caller was...
“Don Senor!”
Don Senor.
A nickname meaning “respected master.”
There was only one person in the Colombian drug world with such a grand title.
The head of the Medellín Cartel, said to be the most brutal in the world.
Alejandro Morales was the one who bore that name.
Garcia, who answered his call, grew confident.
He was just imagining the cartel headquarters’ support arriving so they could wipe out those vigilantes when—
─Pull back immediately.
The respected boss’s words instantly chilled him.
Garcia dared to talk back to his command.
“Don Senor! What are you... No, we can’t!”
The moment he dared to question him—
SPLURT! Pain shot through the back of his neck, and blood spurted out.
“W-What...”
The number two, who had always stood beside him, had plunged a dagger he’d somehow drawn into Garcia’s neck.
“Don Senor’s orders are absolute.”
As he spoke, he picked up the phone Garcia had dropped and answered it.
“I will follow your orders.”
─Ah, and...
The absolute ruler of Colombia had even thoroughly secured the loyalty of the number two in a local narco organization.
After hesitating for a long while, he spoke in a trembling voice with a small sigh.
─Do everything possible to facilitate Hunter Kim Segyun’s Gate clear.
“Pardon? Y-Yes, understood!”
He was Don Senor’s trusted subordinate, deliberately planted to keep local narcos in line if they ever rebelled in a situation like this.
Even he was momentarily bewildered by an order he could barely understand.
His absolute loyalty to Don Senor still remained, but...
In that slightly trembling, resigned-sounding voice, he could hear...
‘Don Senor... was afraid?’
There was no way he could suppress the irreverent thought that flashed through his mind.