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A strange atmosphere.

A silence is maintained.

The monster clad in golden armor silently gazed at Kim Jong-soo.

What on earth is he doing? Just moments ago, he was trying to enchant people with words.

He was exuding a suspicious aura.

So why is he just staring?

Kim Jong-soo, sword drawn, remained tense.

But instead of focusing on the golden armor in front of him, he spread his senses outwards, preparing for any magic that might come flying at him. Yet, the shaman seemed to be either aiming to waste his energy or had no intention of doing harm at all, just idly watching time pass.

As some time passed, a loud thudding roar echoed, and a helicopter appeared.

The helicopter approached the well with a deafening sound, and just when it seemed close enough, its door swung open, and a man grabbed the dangling rope and descended to the ground.

The huge man, reminiscent of a bear, wore nothing but shorts and a simple T-shirt. However, he radiated heat and with every step he took, an unknown sense of pressure spread around him.

“Evil Bear” Seong Min-hyuk.

A warrior from the National Defense Council, he was a capable person who had made significant contributions during the operation to eliminate Somali pirates.

His specialties were boxing and jujutsu, and he was a warrior specialized in overpowering and killing foes using his peculiar brute strength.

Like the nickname “Sword Demon” bestowed upon Kim Jong-soo during the Vietnam War due to his actions, Seong Min-hyuk had earned his nickname from the exploits during the pirate operation, which had firmly solidified it.

The way he struck with his bare hands or crushed bones by hugging his foes was likened to a bear, earning him the “Evil Bear” or “Devil Bear” moniker, which later morphed into the “Evil Bear” alias as his feats became widely known.

“Bro, is that him?”

“Yeah.”

Seong Min-hyuk strode over to Kim Jong-soo and asked.

“Is he the bastard who killed that loan shark?”

“Definitely. I confirmed the serial number on my bills.”

Seong Min-hyuk smiled at Kim Jong-soo’s assurance, drew energy into his body, and marched straight toward him. Kim Jong-soo looked at him, meaning ‘This bastard is starting again,’ yet silently watched, refusing to intervene.

Even Jinseong, who clearly saw Seong Min-hyuk approaching him with energy surrounding his body, didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t escape on spider-like legs, didn’t leave the well, and didn’t even turn his head.

He just kept staring.

Staring at the one coming closer.

Just like a sick bug.

“Heh heh. Hey, shaman.”

Finally, Seong Min-hyuk reached right in front of Jinseong.

He flashed a fierce smile and said, “What are you?”

In response to that question, the monster barely maintained its human form, morphing into a face that looked like a mix of bug and human.

Yet, the face of this supposed human didn’t belong to Jinseong, but rather to Seong Min-hyuk, who was facing him.

“The question is wrong.”

“What?”

“Ask the right question. Heh heh.”

Seong Min-hyuk frowned at the mocking tone.

But behind him, Kim Jong-soo wore a serious expression, as if he sensed something amiss, and rushed to Seong Min-hyuk’s side, grabbing his shoulder.

Then, as if to say’ don’t say anything,’ he urgently gestured, positioning himself in front of Seong Min-hyuk.

As Seong Min-hyuk glanced at him with a ‘What are you doing?’ expression, Kim Jong-soo silently mouthed something.

“Ju…sul.”

“Ju, sul?”

However, Seong Min-hyuk awkwardly read out what Kim Jong-soo had signaled.

At that, Jinseong looked at him with anticipation, changing the shape of his mask.

The form was an extraordinarily bizarre appearance, as if the monster were too gleeful to contain itself.

“Finally, you asked the right question. Yes, this is magic. However, it is not in its proper form but reversed. No matter how much you ponder over it in your heads, the solution will not come to you, so do not resist my magic and follow it. In doing so, you will gain great benefit.”

Kim Jong-soo quietly pondered the shaman’s words before asking,

“What are the rules?”

“The rules are simple. You just need to remember this: the right question, the right answer.”

The right question.

The right answer.

Kim Jong-soo contemplated those words.

Then, he drew his sword again, infused it with power, and spread his senses to find the shaman.

But no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t catch any trace of energy.

His ability allowed him to sense even a single rat, yet he couldn’t locate the shaman’s true form at all.

He couldn’t find it.

With his abilities, he couldn’t find it.

Kim Jong-soo admitted his limitations.

“The law is both severe and lax in certain aspects.”

He murmured as he opened his eyes.

“For example, regarding crimes that are labeled ‘special.’ Special robbery, special theft, special assault… crimes committed with deadly weapons. And with these special labels, appropriate rights follow, which is precisely self-defense…”

When one carries a deadly weapon, it gets classified as special, resulting in harsher penalties.

Naturally.

But here arises a question.

Where does the definition of a deadly weapon begin and end?

What counts as a deadly weapon, and what doesn’t?

Those who create the law have wrestled long and hard over the scope of this ‘deadly weapon.’

Thus, the criteria they settled on was ‘anything that an ordinary person without any abilities can be harmed by.’

If it’s an object that could injure an ordinary person, it’s a deadly weapon.

If it’s an ability that could cause harm to an ordinary person, it’s a deadly weapon.

If it’s a technique that could injure an ordinary person, it’s a deadly weapon.

In other words,

A capable person is akin to possessing a deadly weapon themselves and, when committing serious crimes, are inevitably subject to stronger punishment, which means Kim Jong-soo’s actions were consistent with this interpretation.

Before him stood a criminal, and he was using abilities that legally fell under the definition of a ‘deadly weapon,’ so it was permissible to strike in self-defense. Of course, it seemed excessive for self-defense, but utilizing his social status and immense wealth, he could smooth things over without issue.

To put it simply…

For Kim Jong-soo, the ‘capable person who committed a crime’ is legally game for killing, and a heavenly opportunity to stain his sword with blood legally.

But…

“However… if destroying the entire town just to catch you falls under self-defense, is that acceptable?”

At his muttering, an officer watching from afar turned pale.

With a frightened face, he screamed from a distance, “You can’t! Absolutely not!” He seemed so panicked that he even called the unit over the radio, yelling that the town might get destroyed.

“Is that a question?”

“No.”

Kim Jong-soo slammed his sword into the ground, unleashing energy.

Transparent energy surrounded the well like a soap bubble.

He then stared intently at the shaman before turning around and giving a light tap on Seong Min-hyuk’s shoulder.

“I’m off.”

“What? Bro, you’re a murder suspect, aren’t you?”

“I lost my mood. You handle it.”

Through many years of experience, Kim Jong-soo had learned that getting entangled with that sort of being was not a wise choice.

Even if you tried to catch it, it would slip away like a fox that was playing tricks on you.

If you thought you had it, like a mirage, it would vanish, mocking you as it reformed.

Talking to it felt like conversing with a snake; one might soon find themselves trapped in a game that they had inadvertently stepped into.

Yes.

In other words, that creature was like a swamp.

One wrong step, and it would swallow you whole in an instant.

“At my age, getting involved with something like that is not a good thing. You young folks handle it.”

“No, brother. Don’t say that…”

“Ah! When you’re young, you should have experiences like that. You get a good grip on it.”

During his time serving in Vietnam, Kim Jong-soo wandered in dense jungles where anything could happen.

With every step, snakes would rise from below, and above, what seemed like a vine might actually be a snake dangling down. Sharp sticks hidden beneath foliage could stab you, and just when you thought you were safe to sleep, unknown Viet Cong could appear, brandishing knives, severing the heads of teammates.

The jungle.

A place that could be termed the homeland of the Viet Cong, returning to a game where the rules are set entirely by them.

If you stumbled into the traps the Viet Cong set without knowing, you could be impaled by a spear smeared with excrement while suffering a slow death or lose your ankle by stepping on a bomb made from a tin can; if you ventured toward smoke that looked like rice cooking, you could become ensnared in a curse trap set by the Viet Cong or end up burned alive.

The only way to avoid being a victim in such an unreasonable game is simple.

To not participate at all.

Just as he had sprayed chemicals in the jungles of Vietnam, set them ablaze, and unleashed biological weapons, one must overturn the gameboard they had set up to avoid being ensnared by it.

“I’ll buy you a grand drink later, so you better handle things here. Ah, since it seems you alone can’t handle it, I’ll have someone else join you.”

Kim Jong-soo looked at Seong Min-hyuk with eyes full of trust.

Belief.

A belief that with his absurdly sturdy physique, he wouldn’t fall for any foolish tricks.

Though he may have a dull mind, he possessed physical abilities that vastly exceeded that shortfall, meaning he had nothing to worry about.

A belief that, alongside other capable persons that would soon arrive, they’d successfully catch that murder suspect.

And even if he let this opportunity slip by, he had faith that once he set his sights on a target, he would chase it down to the end to catch that shaman.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave. Contact me if any problems arise.”

“Oh, that brother is running off on me again.”

 

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