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BANG—!!!

The horn blares long and loud, as if announcing my presence, with a thundering engine beneath it that seems to shake the very ground. A truck crashes into a tree, making a crackling, crunching sound. And…

KABOOM—!!!

The explosive sound echoes as trucks burst apart for various reasons!

A well-functioning truck hits a mine, spinning through the air before exploding along with its cargo bed.

The truck that reaches its target presses a button, and a Homemade Directional Mine detonates, scattering Dirty Bomb materials everywhere.

BANG—!

BEEP BEEP—!!!

In Korea, it’s called a 레미콘 truck, while in America, it’s known as a Mixer Truck, racing madly and vomiting its contents onto the ground.

What comes out looks similar to regular Ready-Mixed Concrete, but it’s something very special added that makes it unique.

Radioactive Waste.

Using materials so soaked in Radioactive Waste that they’re nearly unusable, they actually sell them off and add them into the concrete mix, bringing a Geiger counter into play that would gasp, “You’ve had it! You’re not going to die anytime soon after weighing this!”

The Mixer Truck is contaminating Yellowstone National Park in a different manner than the previously exploded Dirty Bomb, this time in a thicker, gooier way.

BLAAM—!

Is that it?

No way.

That truck over there is spewing powdered Radioactive Waste.

It’s a powder form of what’s heavily infused with radiation, with Cesium Balls mixed in that are extremely dangerous both to humans and plants. And to the animals that call Yellowstone National Park their home.

Thus, Yellowstone National Park begins to taint at a horrifying pace.

Maybe in a few years, if I come back here, I might see dinosaurs or aliens frolicking around.

“T-this… this…!”

What a wicked act!

Kenneth, who had dashed out from the hot spring at the strange noise, gaped at the chaos caused by the trucks, and his face twisted in horror as he realized the nature of the items being unleashed. When he saw thousands of balloons filled with Radioactive Waste spilling out of the cargo space, an indescribable anger flooded over him.

“Which damn bastard did this?! God will curse you!”

Kenneth erupted with fury, pulling out a divine object from his robe.

He brandished a fan made of feathers, likely bought in the Middle East, and with every swipe of the fan, a gust of wind swirled to entangle the balloons floating in the air. It gently lowered them and created tiny punctures, allowing the air to escape naturally. The wind generated from the fan helped prevent the worst scenario of thousands of balloons spilling Radioactive Waste.

After recovering all the balloons, Kenneth folded his fan and tucked it back into his robe, gazing at the chaos below.

“….”

BLAAM—!

Trucks rampaging like crazy.

The horrific Radioactive concrete being spewed forth like the waste of an evil being.

Homemade bullets filled with Radioactive Waste that spread out with explosions—whether they could even be recovered was questionable at this point.

Radioactive Waste and Cesium powder blanketing everything like an unexpected snowfall.

Ah.

This is…

this is….

Kenneth was left speechless by the grotesque sight unfolding before him—something he could hardly imagine and couldn’t possibly bring himself to witness.

For a moment, he even felt as if his brain had momentarily shut down.

But soon, his mind resumed active functioning, devising a way to cleanly take care of this situation.

Click.

He pulled out a very small revolver from his robe.

An insignificant little revolver that a macho American wouldn’t likely fancy.

At the gun store, they claimed it was perfect for kids or women to carry for self-defense.

Kenneth slowly raised it, aiming the barrel at the truck.

In a voice so tiny he could barely hear himself, he mumbled something and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

TANG—!

A thunderous sound erupted.

The tiny bullet shot forth, slicing through the air. Oddly enough, its trajectory wasn’t a straight line or any common shape.

It should have gently curved down due to gravity, but the bullet Kenneth fired moved in an S shape, as if sneaking through the air like a snake.

Moreover, it mimicked the truck’s movements, resembling the legendary arrow of myth.

WHOOSH—!

The magical projectile swam through the air and pierced the truck’s windshield, creating a hole right in the driver’s forehead.

A small hole in the center of the forehead and a massive, adult-sized hole at the back of the head. And from that hole, grayish brain matter and blood should have been gushing out, but….

“….”

Nothing.

No brain matter, no blood.

The hole was there, but that was it.

Although a hole had been created, it was completely empty inside.

It was as if the driver were a wax figure with the inside hollowed out.

The inside of the hole reflected the light shining down on it, creating a bizarre sight that reflected the surrounding scenery, making it feel like the driver’s shell was crafted from a mirror.

“…It’s magic.”

Kenneth immediately realized the identity of these drivers.

Magic.

Something created through magic.

An imitation?

Is it a physical manifestation of a curse?

A ghost taking shape?

A puppet?

An illusion?

Countless possibilities crossed Kenneth’s mind.

Magic is bizarre and unpredictable, so it’s only natural that there are numerous possibilities.

But conversely, that multitude of possibilities makes it difficult to establish reliable data, forcing one to rely on experience and personal knowledge.

Therefore, Kenneth could only realize with a heavy heart that none of the swirling possibilities fit the bill in his mind.

“…To think they’d unleash this sort of chaos over just one raid….”

Kenneth grimaced as he imagined the culprit’s face.

Just one time.

Only once.

Not even a full-fledged invasion of a dwelling, but just barging into a hotel during a trip. Moreover, it wasn’t a serious sorcery attack either—does it even make sense to retaliate with such unthinkable actions?

“…No, it does make sense.”

No.

It does.

Yes, it makes perfect sense.

A throbbing headache brushed past him, and it felt like the fog in his mind had cleared momentarily.

Along with that, he began to think of this event as the rightful, natural behavior of the young shaman he had assaulted. Yet at the same time, he could not help but wonder if even retribution could be too excessive, and the bad feelings welling up within him accompanied the returning haze of thought.

Thus, the conclusion he arrived at.

He admitted to coming for revenge.

A manly act, a perfectly justifiable action.

But the method was wrong and way over the top.

So, in that light, striking back wasn’t wrong either.

With that thought, Kenneth began to wildly unleash his revolver.

BANG—!

TANG—!

The recoil jolted his arm.

The aged and ailing body struggled to keep up with even the little gun’s kick.

Yet even though he was old and frail, he still possessed the sight to pierce the dark and the divine object to surely hit what he could see.

The bullets he fired swerved and shifted their trajectories themselves, moving like living snakes to pierce the hearts and heads of the targets.

One driver falls, then another, and another….

“….”

“….”

“….”

The drivers ceased their movements as soon as the holes were created.

However, even with gaping holes in their bodies, their expressions displayed not the slightest change; they maintained their expressionless faces, fulfilling their duties right until the end.

BANG—!

They blared their horns, detonated bombs, and crashed into something, causing destruction.

They did everything they could to ruin nature and spread Radioactive Waste across Yellowstone National Park.

Thus, the drivers continued their utterly infuriating acts, unabashed, until the very moment they met their demise.

Watching this, Kenneth pulled the trigger with even greater intensity and finally pierced through all the drivers.

When the very last one fell silent,

Click.

Kenneth let his gun-hand drop to his side.

BANG—!

Gunshots rang out from a distance, far from Kenneth.

 

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