Chapter 36: The Viper’s Lair

CRUNCH—

The man whose car door had been crumpled screamed and cursed, pulling a pocket knife from his clothes. Agon’s irises, sensing the killing intent, narrowed to a chilling degree. A tense silence fell between them, as if guns were aimed at each other.

Breaking through that volatile moment was Dokyeom, who reached out and firmly gripped Agon’s cheek. Agon’s eyes, alight with fury, trembled minutely as they fixated on Dokyeom. His gaze was so intense it seemed he would tear into his own master.

“Easy now. It’s fine, calm down.”

‘Not yet.’

Facing Agon’s contorted face, Dokyeom soothed him in a low whisper. He then slowly and gently caressed Agon’s earlobe to placate him. To let Agon wreak havoc here and now would render all the beatings and endured slights unjustly wasted.

‘Especially that bastard.’

Dokyeom’s gaze drifted past Agon’s face, which was struggling to suppress his rage, his shoulders heaving slightly.

Beyond Agon’s shoulder, a viper-like man emerged, scratching the back of his head. Unlike the other thugs, he watched Agon’s actions with half-lidded eyes, as if yawning.

‘That bastard must be an A-rank too.’ It would do no good for two A-rank or higher hunters to clash here. Moreover, Agon’s officially disclosed rank during the briefing process was C-rank. It was not the right time to cause a commotion where others could witness it.

If they were going to fight, it needed to be somewhere deserted. Of course, Dokyeom never doubted Agon would win. After all, Agon was an AA-rank monster, close to S-rank.

Dokyeom wiped the blood from the corner of his torn lip with the back of his hand and led Agon into the car. “Come here.”

“If you behave now, you’ll get a feast today.”

‘In any case, I was planning to raid the ‘Gwangmyeong Guild’s’ lair and cause some trouble soon enough. Moving up the timetable wouldn’t be a problem. No, it wouldn’t.’

“Just… yes, come on in.”

As Dokyeom tapped the passenger seat, urging him, Agon slowly relaxed his furrowed brow and blinked, approaching Dokyeom. His gaze then shifted across Dokyeom’s face, which was marred with blood and bruises.

SWISH— THWACK—

BANG—!

As Agon’s mouth parted to speak, the car door slammed shut with a resounding crash. The one who closed the door was the viper-like bastard, who was now looking at the crumpled door with a troubled expression.

“Our youngest picked up all sorts of trash, didn’t they? I’ll be billing you for the car repairs, so be aware of that. Well, if it puts your mind at ease, let’s bring that bastard along too. For me, two is even better.”

The man tilted his head back, calling someone. Immediately, another man hastily got into the driver’s seat—the same one who had been cursing and clutching a pocket knife earlier. The viper-like man, too, slipped his hands into his pockets and settled into the passenger seat.

“Don’t think about causing trouble, youngest. It’s just up ahead, so we’ll be there quickly anyway.”

With the other thugs tidying up and following behind, the black sedan finally pulled away from the hotel where it had been parked.

Dokyeom tapped his foot, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.

‘After causing such a ruckus, the news should reach Taeseongyeon’s ears.’

He hadn’t bothered to meet Taeseongyeon in person just to idly listen to a briefing schedule.

Originally, the briefing was set to take place three days from today. Of course, that was only if ‘nothing happened’ to Dokyeom.

‘Mr. Taeseongyeon, what if something happens to me?’

‘Then I’ll come save you.’

‘If that’s the case, just send Han Yuseong. No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I mean, what if something happens to me before the briefing?’

Dokyeom remembered the moment Taeseongyeon set down his chopsticks. The ‘request’ had come when their eyes met.

‘Please move up the briefing schedule. To tomorrow, 2 PM.’

If this commotion reached Taeseongyeon’s ears without a hitch, the briefing would take place in 19 hours. Tomorrow.

“Sirs, we have plenty of time, so let’s take it slow. I get really bad motion sickness.”

Dokyeom merely needed to stall for time until then.

****

Expecting some dilapidated factory or a cramped semi-basement, as was typical for thug hideouts, Dokyeom was surprised to find they arrived at a perfectly respectable office building, dense with various companies.

In a high-rise office, offering a panoramic view of the city’s nightscape, luxurious sofas were arranged around a single table.

Dokyeom and Agon were seated on one of these leather sofas. They weren’t alone; other people, looking as though they had been thoroughly beaten and dragged there, huddled on another section of the sofa, their shoulders slumped.

‘They were probably hunters who, like the original Han Dokyeom, had been forced into menial labor to pay their dues.’ At best, they were D-rank, but most were likely E-rank.

Dokyeom looked across at the middle-aged man seated opposite him. Dressed in what appeared to be an expensive suit, the man scanned some unidentified documents, occasionally casting a hound-like gaze at the hunters.

The viper-like man was nowhere to be seen; he had disappeared the moment they exited the car. The only others around seemed to be C-rank hunters at most, with none appearing to be above B-rank.

After a brief pause, the middle-aged man sighed deeply and called Dokyeom’s name softly.

“Dokyeom.”

“I’m not signing.”

“You idiot, you already signed! Talk when you know what you’re talking about.”

The man snorted, as if dumbfounded. The word ‘Unpaid Balance’ sprawled across the documents on the table was starkly visible. The amount next to it was too vast to even count.

“Is it tough? No money coming in? Why are you skipping out on this month’s tribute? I clearly gave you an extension last month when you whined about being broke. So why are you stabbing me in the back now? You’re driving me crazy!”

The middle-aged man raised an eyebrow, his voice gruff. Dokyeom, looking at the man with a toad-like face, spat back metaphorically.

“I’m the one who should be getting a salary, so why are you making demands like a bunch of beggars?”

“Well, well, look at our Dokyeom. When we offered to put you in the guild, you wagged your tail like a dog, happy as could be. Now that you’re in, look at you whining? Are you going to start barking now? Huh? And soon, biting?”

“Oh, how did you know? I was planning to bite.”

“Dokyeom, look at your seniors sitting next to you. Aren’t you sick of acting out and then crying like a baby? Go get the money and pay up while I’m being nice. This is the last time I’ll ask nicely. I’m fed up, too, you hear? Do I have to explain again, until my mouth aches, that if the guild thrives, you thrive?”

The pathetic-looking hunters sitting beside Dokyeom clenched their fists. As low-rank hunters who couldn’t even get into proper guilds, their lives were all equally tragic.

It was then that the ‘Gwangmyeong Guild’ had extended a hand. The Gwangmyeong Guild operated by collecting exorbitant tributes from its members, using the guild’s future as an excuse, and in that process, only the higher-ups lined their pockets.

Initially, it wasn’t framed as a tribute. The contract even listed it as ‘membership fees’ and specified a ‘small amount,’ so everyone was easily fooled, nodding and stamping their seals on the agreement.

It was the mistake of a lifetime. The original ‘Han Dokyeom’ was one such young, inexperienced hunter who got caught in this trap.

Of course, the current Dokyeom didn’t know the exact details of that process, but this was generally how the hunters here had joined.

“Just stamp your seal here. This is the amount you owe this time. If you miss this payment… well, you’ll be taking a boat with your seniors here. This, you know, I’m being generous because you’ve been with us a long time. So don’t get any ideas, just pay up, promptly.”

Dokyeom decided to play along for now.

“…You’re saying some scary things. So, what happens if I take that boat?”

“What else? You’re pretty good-looking, so we’ll put you up for auction overseas. As for your seniors here, they’re contracted as gate laborers and will work for foreign guilds until they die. I’m telling you now, those guys aren’t as nice as we are, okay? What’s free time? You have to go to the bathroom under supervision!”

“Isn’t that illegal?! Wow, you people are truly evil!”

“You stamped your seals, you commoners!”

“What if I refuse?”

“Seeing you after so long, it seems your head’s gone a bit crazy, hasn’t it? Don’t you remember my ability anymore? If you break the contract and run, you’ll just… rot. Starting from your toes, slowly, until it reaches your heart. You won’t die, just scream in agony for exactly one month until your eyes roll back and you kick the bucket. That pain is truly horrific, you know?”

‘Just as I thought.’

He had wondered why they kept harping on about the contract, and there was a good reason for it. The man likely possessed a ‘Contract’ related skill. If someone violated it, he could inflict a specific ‘punishment’.

In such cases, unless a hunter possessed a ‘Breach’ or ‘Nullification’ skill, the contract could not be broken. Currently, only one A-rank hunter in the Association was known to have a ‘Nullification’ skill in Korea.

For that hunter to get involved, this incident would have to be reported to the Association. The problem was, why hadn’t anyone reported it until now?

“…If I tell anyone, I’ll die, won’t I?”

“Want me to show you the contract again? It’s all written out in detail there, isn’t it? Just open your mouth, and your heart will burn to ashes that very day. Ah, stop talking nonsense and stamp your seal here, quickly.”

The middle-aged man crossed one leg and irritably tossed the documents. Dokyeom took them and saw that the tribute amounted to over 5,000. The structure dictated that the amount had to be repaid monthly, but the interest accrued on the unpaid balance meant that the accumulating debt always surpassed any repayments.