chapter 2
2 – The Hunting Dog Aesong (2)
In the underground city of Artman, dawn still breaks in the morning.
What brightened the morning in Artman, where the sun never rose, was not sunlight but the artificial light of ore-fueled lanterns, and the light emitted by the ore was a twilight hue. Therefore, Artman was always tinted with the colors of dawn.
For those who had forgotten the sunlight, they used the artificial twilight glow of ore lamps to reminisce about the sun.
Of course, this story did not apply to the boy walking down the street now. A boy born in the underground city, who had never experienced the outside, had never seen the sun.
“A letter has arrived.”
Early morning, streets painted with twilight glow.
A boy dressed as a postman, Najin, knocked on the door of the tavern. It would be customary for a postman to leave a letter and go back if the owner did not come out, but the boy persistently knocked on the tavern door.
“Hey, who is it!”
A frustrated man quickly opened the door. He grabbed the postman’s collar and lifted him up.
“Hey, you little brat, couldn’t you just leave the letter and go back? Can’t you pick up on the clues?”
The man couldn’t finish his sentence.
It was because the boy, who was lifted up by the collar, raised the postman’s cap that he had pressed down and revealed his own face. When Najin and the man made eye contact, the man’s face hardened.
“Calvin.”
Najin called the man’s name.
Looking at Calvin, the boy smiled.
“You’re inside Tricky, right?”
“….Why?”
“A letter came from Ivan. To Tricky, in front.”
“….”
Calvin silently shifted his gaze inside the shop. Having exchanged a brief glance with my brother sitting there, Calvin let out a long sigh and released Najin’s collar.
“My brother is coming in.”
“Oh, do you happen to have something to drink? I’m a little thirsty.”
“Tsk.”
Clicking his tongue, Calvin headed towards the kitchen. While he was fetching water, Najin walked into the tavern with a relaxed gait. The tavern was full of men, each with a knife tucked at their waist.
Approximately seven to eight of them.
Receiving sharp glances from them, Najin leisurely headed towards the center of the tavern. He flopped down on the sofa reserved for customers.
“The sofa is nice, Tricky.”
“It’s a high-end item that I spent a lot of money on.”
The one who responded to Najin’s muttering was a middle-aged man sitting opposite him. Tricky, as he was called, narrowed his eyes while shaking his glass.
“So, what’s the matter, Najin?”
“I told you, Tricky.”
Najin put his hand into his pocket. At that moment, the men who had been staring at Najin flinched and lightly trembled. Smirking as he watched their hands reach for the knives at their waists, Najin chuckled.
“A letter came from Ivan.”
What he took out of his pocket was a letter.
Najin shook the letter in front of them as if to release the tension. However, the guard didn’t fade away. Only wearing the disguise of a postman, everyone here knew that the boy was not a real postman.
The underground city, Artman.
In a city reminiscent of a lawless wasteland with only the barest hint of order, three formidable figures held dominion, one of them being a man known as Ivan, the Eye of the Outsiders. The boy before them was undeniably affiliated with Ivan’s family.
“Tricksy.”
As a member of Ivan’s organization, Tricksy knew well the implications of casually mentioning Ivan’s name.
“I told you to handle it discreetly.”
Ivan’s right-hand man.
“This time, you went too far.”
The enforcer of the organization.
“Selling off kids after splitting their bellies? That’s crossing a line, considering what Ivan hates the most. This has gone too far.”
The organization’s underboss disguised as a postal worker.
Ivan’s watchdog.
The boy known as Najin sighed, tapping the table with his fingers. Watching this, Tricksy clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“Arrogant brat…”
While not as prominent as Ivan, Tricksy was a well-known merchant on these streets, holding a respectable position within the organization. Despite this, he couldn’t harbor positive feelings toward the boy who treated him so arrogantly.
But he couldn’t voice that fact.
The boy sat before him as Ivan’s representative, possessing enough skill to justify his position. Tricksy gulped down his drink and opened his mouth.
“So, what do you want to say?”
“Just wanted to ask. Why did you do it?”
“There’s only one reason for a merchant to do what I did. It seemed like it would bring in more money.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Do I need another reason?”
Tricksy shrugged.
“You’ll understand as you live, kid. When an easy path to wealth appears, people tend to take it. Catch a few young ones, split their bellies, and gold coins pour in. Why wouldn’t you do it?”
“Just because it seems easy doesn’t mean you should dive in headfirst. You might lose your ankles.”
“You don’t hold back, do you?”
“Ivan taught me not to.”
Thud.
Tricksy placed the glass he held onto the table. The ice in the glass made a satisfying clinking sound. The silent exchange between them had run its course. It was time to get to the point.
“So, what did Ivan say?”
“Shall I read it to you?”
“That’s fine.”
Tricksey smirked.
Najin swiftly unfolded the letter and ran his fingers over it, adjusting his collar.
“Tricksey.”
Najin’s lips moved.
“Three chances are up.”
The final warning.
“······.”
Even without hearing the words that would follow, it was clear. Hence, Tricksey gestured. At that moment, Tricksey’s subordinates surrounding Najin pulled daggers from their waistbands. Cabin, who had gone somewhere under the pretext of fetching water, opened the back door of the tavern.
Kkiik.
Five men entered the tavern through the open door. In their hands were hefty daggers. Looking them over, Najin spoke.
“Spit out all the money. It says here, ‘I’ll spare you for the past favor, but what will you do, Tricksey?'”
“If you can read, then you know.”
Tricksey gestured with his hand.
Clang! With a sound, both the back and front doors of the tavern were firmly locked. The intention was clear—they had blocked Najin’s escape route in advance.
“Oh.”
Najin stuck out his tongue.
Even Tricksey’s subordinates surrounding him numbered a dozen. Passing over their stern gazes, Najin let out a bitter laugh.
“Tricksey, do you have any faith left? Stabbing me is the same as stabbing Ivan.”
“I found a better person than Ivan, who sets useless rules.”
“Ground Spider Horsey? Drug-addict Hakan?”
The remaining two strongmen ruling the underground city.
Tricksey didn’t bother answering who he had aligned himself with. Instead, he simply smiled as if expressing regret.
“It’s a shame, Najin.”
“Yeah, truly······.”
The moment Najin put down the letter.
Thirteen people rushed towards Najin simultaneously. Looking at the flickering daggers under the shabby lights of the tavern, Najin took a deep breath.
“Sorry, Tricksey.”
Najin’s foot moved.
Crash!
Najin lifted the table that had been between him and Tricksey. The glasses on the table shattered as water droplets splashed in all directions.
A floating table in mid-air.
Water droplets reflecting the ambient light.
For a brief moment, Trixie’s attention was stolen by them. Trixie listened. The chilling sound of a substantial cut, a thud resonating with the table hitting the floor. A scream followed belatedly.
“Ah, ahhhhh!”
The table that had levitated in the air now crashed down. Along with it, an arm belonging to someone fell. The severed subordinate screamed.
The scream didn’t last long.
With a swift kick, Najin buried the face of the man who had screamed beneath his foot. The subordinate fell with a thud, head leaning backward. In an instant, one fell. Twelve remained.
“Attack!”
“Damn it, that bastard!”
“Charge!”
The subordinates who had retreated from the suddenly floating table rushed towards Najin again. Their eyes were fixed on Trixie, who was slowly stepping back.
“Trixie.”
Najin chuckled.
“If you run, it won’t end with just you.”
Ivan’s hunting dog bared its teeth.
3.
The hanging lantern on the tavern’s ceiling swayed perilously. With each swing, screams echoed and reverberated. Screams. Noisy footsteps. Sounds of destruction and chaos.
“Noooo!”
“The madman!”
Blood splattered in long arcs.
The splattered blood stained the tavern’s tables, bottles, and glass windows a deep crimson. Amidst the vibrating stench of blood and screams, Trixie’s pupils shook.
With each blink, one would fall.
Severed arms and legs lay messily scattered around. Even after their arms were severed, Najin’s knees were embedded in the faces and jaws of those rushing towards him. Najin’s movements among the falling subordinates were eerie, even chilling.
Slipping through the spaces between the assailants as if sliding on ice. With light steps, Najin raised his foot and brought it down on a subordinate’s knee.
Thud!
With a chilling sound, the subordinate’s knee snapped backward. Najin’s knee embedded itself in the fallen man’s face before he hit the ground.
Squelch.
A subordinate’s arm, aiming for Najin in the gap, flew through the air. Among the spurting blood, Najin wielding a black blade appeared. Immediately after, Najin slammed the ground and charged forward.
All his movements were uncanny.
Swift, almost too much.
The rumors had seemed exaggerated, but it was quite the opposite. As the number of fallen subordinates surpassed half, Tricksy felt the cold sweat trickle down his spine.
“Insane.”
Tricksy took a step back.
Thirteen. It was indeed thirteen. Though he had heard rumors about that boy named Najin being like a monster, Tricksy had thought he could handle such a number.
Thirteen, and half of them were members sent by the Ground Spider. Skilled assassins who had been dining with Horace, the Ground Spider, for years were now easily being overpowered after just a few exchanges.
“I miscalculated.”
Now, he had to admit it.
His calculations were wrong. That boy was more of a monster than he had anticipated. Tricksy, unable to retreat, turned his body towards the door.
But, clank.
Even as he turned the doorknob, the door wouldn’t open. A door that had been locked just moments ago to prevent the intruders from escaping. Now, it held the owner of the tavern, who was trying to flee.
“Damn it!”
Tricksy cursed, fumbling at his waist. Just as he managed to pull out the key and was about to put it in the lock, thud!
Something slammed right next to Tricksy. With his movements halted, Tricksy slowly turned his head to the side. There, he saw the face of his trusted subordinate, not a member sent by the Ground Spider, but his own man, Cabin.
Cabin’s forehead was torn, blood streaming down. Tricksy’s eyes met Cabin’s tired gaze. Tricksy turned around slowly. Ivan’s hunting dog was standing there.
“If you run, it won’t end with just you. Do I have to drag your son and wife into this as well?”
“You, bastard…”
The one who had slammed Cabin’s head into the door.
Even now, Najin was gripping his head with one hand, looking at Tricksy with tired eyes. Tricksy’s gaze extended beyond Najin’s shoulders.
“Ugh…”
“Shut up…”
No one was standing there.
But there were no dead bodies either.
The groaning figures sprawled on the floor might have become half-dead, but they were all still alive. However, Tricksy sensed that he himself couldn’t afford to end up like that.
The boy in front of him was Ivan’s proxy. And Ivan never kept anyone close to him.
As the leader in this place, Tricksy couldn’t escape responsibility. A hollow laugh escaped Tricksy’s lips as he lost strength in his legs, leaning against the door.
“…”
Najin, looking down at Tricksy, grabbed Cabin’s hair, pulled him closer, and lightly slapped Cabin’s cheek, where broken pieces of wood were stuck.
“Cabin.”
Facing Cabin, who trembled in fear, and locking eyes with him, Najin spoke briefly.
“I told you I was thirsty.”
Calvin nodded vigorously.
When Najin let him go, Calvin staggered and finally moved to a corner of the tavern to get some water.
“Phew…”
Najin sighed deeply, sweeping her hair back. Wiping the bloodstained face with the sleeve of her clothes, Najin bent her knees, bringing Tricksey to eye level.
“Why do you make trouble with things that won’t work out? Tricksey, you weren’t someone who couldn’t calculate like this.”
“Kuk, k-khuk…”
Tricksey chuckled.
“Crazy bastard. Usually, with about sixteen gathered, you could take care of something like you.”
“Even if the opponent is a half?”
“That monstrous guy is an exception.”
“Well, then, consider me an exception too.”
Tricksey burst into laughter.
Who was Ivan, the half dominating this underground city? Ivan, in the past, was a knight whose name resonated in the upper town. Unlike the mediocre fighters, he was the strongest among the strong who knew how to wield a sword.
To claim to be on the same level as such a strongman while looking at a fresh-faced young boy, Tricksey couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
However, at the same time…
Tricksey couldn’t completely deny Najin’s words.
In front of him, the boy possessed an unusual martial talent. If given proper education, he would undoubtedly rise to great heights, a genius with shining talent.
‘But.’
This is Artman, the underground city.
No matter how exceptional the talent is, those abandoned here or born here can never leave this city.
Therefore.
Talent in this city is nothing more than a subject of ridicule.
“Kukuk, Najin.”
Tricksey, sensing his impending death, chose to mock rather than plead for his life. With a laughter tinged with mockery, Tricksey spoke. Moving his trembling jaw, he taunted.
“You’ll be here your whole life…”
That sentence couldn’t finish.
The blade wielded by Najin pierced Tricksey’s throat. Choked by blood, Tricksey, who had been releasing suppressed breath with a coughing sound, slumped to the side.
The sticky blood covered the floor of the tavern.
As Tricksey’s movements ceased, only then did Najin pull the sword embedded in the corpse’s neck.
“I know. Tricksy.”
With a mumble, Najin slowly got up, shaking off the remnants of her drowsiness. Turning around, she saw Calvin extending a trembling hand towards her with a glass. Najin nudged her chin towards it.
“Yes, um…?”
“Take a sip.”
Calvin hastily gulped down the water.
Najin frowned as she watched Calvin, who nearly emptied half the cup despite being told to take just a sip. Doesn’t seem poisoned.
“Thanks, Calvin.”
Najin snatched the glass away from Calvin before he could down it in one shot. Sipping the remaining water, Najin glanced around.
“It’s better to clean up today. Ivan seems to have no intention of closing this place… Clean up thoroughly, and when you take over, it’ll be smooth.”
“Me, take over?”
“That’s what the deal was, right?”
With a swift motion, Najin touched Calvin’s arm with the sharp edge of her knife. Calvin’s pupils widened. In this place where everyone had become a cripple, Calvin was the only one with intact limbs.
“By ‘clean up’ here, I mean everything, including the money from this nonsense and your relationship with the ground spider Horace. Don’t make me do it twice, Calvin.”
Ground spider Horace.
Tricksy didn’t explicitly say which side she had sided with, but Najin already had a sense of who it was. Calvin nodded, swallowing nervously.
“I’ll remember.”
“Yes, please do.”
Najin rose from her seat as if exhausted.
Once he stepped out and closed the door, Calvin slumped into his chair, his legs losing strength. It felt like a storm had just swept through.