WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 104: Do I Look Like a Pushover?
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“Thanks again for today.”
“That’s enough, so quit packing me all this stuff. I still have some left from last time.”
“Hahaha, I see. Then next time, I’ll prepare different tea leaves and cookies.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Anyway, coffee and snacks are always on the house, so please come by whenever you like!”
In the end, Rimon only managed to leave the live café after closing time.
The customers’ requests had poured in, forcing him to return to the stage several more times.
Perhaps feeling sorry for working them so hard without pay, Owner Jung practically shoved bags filled with coffee beans, tea leaves, cookies, and more into Rimon and Eugene’s arms.
It was nothing new.
Whenever Rimon came to this café, he ended up onstage, played one unpaid encore set after another, and returned home carrying gifts.
“Partner, I’m curious about something.”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you take money from the owner?”
That was why Eugene looked so curious.
It was one thing for Eugene, but there was no reason for Rimon to keep playing for free every time as well.
Rimon answered indifferently.
“If I get paid, then it means you sang for money too.”
“...
That’s the only reason?”
“It’s not trivial when your soul is at stake.”
Perhaps she had not expected that answer.
Eugene’s eyes widened for a moment.
Then she grinned and looped an arm around Rimon’s shoulders.
“Thanks, Partner.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. I just played because I felt like it.”
“Yes, exactly.”
For some reason, Eugene seemed extremely pleased.
After clinging to Rimon and giggling for a while, she finally waved vigorously in farewell.
“Bye-bye! Come visit again!”
“Sure.”
After Eugene left, Yoo Na-gyeong popped her head out above Rimon’s head and asked with an uneasy look.
[What was that?]
“What was what?”
[That cryptic exchange just now.]
“What cryptic exchange? I just did some volunteer work for a friend who doesn’t want to sing for money.”
Rimon snorted.
Yoo Na-gyeong looked unconvinced after hearing that.
[Honestly, I don’t get it. You gladly accept gifts like cookies and coffee beans, so why is money not allowed?]
Eugene had set one condition when she was hired at Owner Jung’s live café.
She would not accept performance fees.
Yoo Na-gyeong could not understand why Eugene diligently collected her part-time wages yet flatly refused to be paid for singing.
Rimon’s answer was simple.
“Would the birthday gift your younger siblings saved up their allowance to buy be the same as the same amount written in your salary account?”
[That’s completely different!]
“No. It’s the same.”
Rimon shook his head.
Looking toward the place Eugene had left, he spoke quietly.
“People don’t treat gold like stones because they lack greed. They do it because gold frightens them.”
Eugene had been brazen enough to ask for a loan from someone she had met only once.
And while not quite at the level of when Rimon accompanied her, Eugene’s singing was still good enough that busking could barely keep her fed.
Yet why had she refused to sell her singing until she was on the verge of collapsing from hunger?
Rimon did not know.
Nor did he intend to find out.
Long experience had taught him there was nothing good about prying into such things.
[Do you think you’re Grand Duke Beopjeong or something, Team Leader? Suddenly throwing out philosophical riddles.]
“Why compare me to them? I’m much older than them, for one thing.”
[Compared to a Team Leader who’s only gotten older, Grand Duke Beopjeong is overwhelmingly superior in both reputation and character.]
“Do you want this old man who’s only gotten older to give you a beating?”
[This is why I say you’ve only gotten older, acting so pettily...! Eek!]
Whether Yoo Na-gyeong jumped around after getting flicked on the forehead or not, Rimon calmly continued.
“Anyway, she’ll never need to sell her singing because she’s short on money again.”
[How can you be so sure?]
“She’s rich.”
[...
What?]
“More precisely, she has more than enough ability to become rich.”
[What kind of ‘a monster escaped from a Dungeon’ nonsense is that?]
Yoo Na-gyeong was utterly dumbfounded.
Eugene had been chased by creditors, collapsed from hunger on the street, and worked part-time at a live café.
No matter how Yoo Na-gyeong looked at her, Eugene practically radiated poverty. She could not understand Rimon’s claim that Eugene was rich.
“It may sound absurd, but what can I do? It’s true.”
[Then how do you know that, Team Leader?]
“You can tell just by looking.”
[...]
[I want to call that nonsense, but when you say it, it sounds real, so I can’t think of anything to say.]
“Of course it’s real.”
[Wow, you’re so annoying.]
Rimon gave a light snort.
Then, strolling away, he muttered.
“She seems content living as a wandering minstrel for now... But how long can the nail in her pocket[1] stay still?”
* * *
“Hm.”
As though to demonstrate that even the head of a family naturally possessed intellect and refinement, Wang Gi-neung spent a long while stroking his mustache and reading.
Then Wang Gi-neung closed the book Wang Gi-neung had been reading and asked abruptly,
“How is it? I thought you might have changed your mind by now.”
“That’s right, just as you said, Comrade.”
The narrow-eyed young man tied to the torture frame grinned.
“I meant to keep my mouth clamped shut, but I can’t stand being this bored. Why not turn on the radio at least?”
“Oh? Are you bored, sir?”
“Of course. I heard the Seven Dragons Society’s torture arts were impressive, so I had high expectations. They’re quite disappointing.”
“It’s remarkable that you can say that in your condition. You have stronger nerves than you look.”
“I’ve heard I’m more capable than I look.”
Wang Gi-neung was honestly impressed.
The young man was in a truly miserable state.
The skin of his left foot had been completely peeled away. His right foot was being dissolved by a dark chemical even as they spoke. Countless long needles pierced his body.
An ordinary person would have long since begged to be killed and gone insane.
“I’m embarrassed, sir. The family head personally put in such effort, yet achieved no results.”
“Don’t blame yourself too much. It isn’t your fault that I’m so impressive.”
“Thank you for saying so, at least.”
It was a remarkably friendly scene.
The bizarre sight of torturer and victim chatting amiably.
And it was all too clear which of the two controlled the mood.
It was easy for the torturer to laugh, but not just anyone could laugh while being tortured.
Wang Gi-neung had gone so far as to double-cross Rimon to capture the young man and learn about the culprit. The situation was enough to twist his guts.
“But such empty courtesies are unnecessary.”
That was why Wang Gi-neung smiled.
After all, Wang Gi-neung was the head of the Shanghai Wang Family. No one who would grow uneasy merely because an opponent was tough could lead a prestigious clan within the Seven Dragons Society.
More than anything, Wang Gi-neung had a reason to calmly watch the young man’s stubbornness.
“It’s not as if I can only learn something through your mouth.”
“What kind of trot song are you playing out of your ass?”
The young man sneered, but Wang Gi-neung did not care.
Wang Gi-neung simply reopened the book and read out one passage after another.
“Name: Ryu Gang-cheol.”
“Childhood nickname: Dogshit.”
“Twenty-nine years old, born July 9th, from Bukgan State of the Zhonghua Seventy-Seven Federation.”
“Raised by a single mother. After his mother remarried, he was abused by his stepfather for three years before running away. Since his mother and stepfather disappeared during the same period, it is suspected that he murdered them before fleeing.”
“Afterward, a similar individual was spotted in a nearby Dungeon. It is presumed that he became an unregistered Player after running away.”
“Player disappearances increased by 300 percent in the Dungeons where Ryu Gang-cheol operated. It is possible he committed murder and robbery against Players.”
“After coming of age, he registered as a mercenary with the Free City Alliance, received military training, and there are indications that he carried out various illegal commissions, including civilian massacres, terrorism, and assassinations.”
“His trail vanished five years ago and he was declared dead. It is presumed that he joined a special organization or corporation and continued operating in secret.”
As though reading someone’s biography, Wang Gi-neung leisurely recited from the book.
Then Wang Gi-neung raised his head again.
Looking directly at the young man, who had finally stopped running his mouth, Wang Gi-neung grinned.
“What do you think, Mr. Ryu Gang-cheol?”
“...
You investigated quite thoroughly. My information was difficult to find, wasn’t it?”
“Records may be erased, but people remain.”
“That you dug through all of that to find it is even more impressive.”
“It wasn’t especially difficult. There’s nothing in this world money can’t accomplish.”
Despite that calm reply, uncovering Ryu Gang-cheol’s past had not been easy.
Had Wang Gi-neung not recalled the advice he had previously heard from Rimon and focused on his military record, it might have taken even the Seven Dragons Society’s information network years.
Ryu Gang-cheol’s records had been erased that thoroughly.
That was why Wang Gi-neung asked again.
“On that note, I’ll ask you once more. Don’t you feel like coming clean now?”
“Why keep asking such bothersome questions? If there’s nothing money can’t accomplish, why don’t you find out yourself?”
“That’s true, but it would be quite wasteful to spend a great deal investigating something we could obtain for free.”
“Don’t be so fond of free things. Don’t you know it’ll make you bald?”
“I have no interest in this country’s proverbs. If something can be saved, shouldn’t it be saved?”
Everything was only a matter of time.
So Ryu Gang-cheol should simply confess.
Wang Gi-neung smiled meaningfully as he spoke, and Ryu Gang-cheol answered with a grin.
“If you’re confident you can find out, don’t beg so pitifully. Find out yourself, Comrade.”
“Hm. Is that your answer?”
As though Wang Gi-neung had expected it to some extent, Wang Gi-neung showed no particular disappointment.
Wang Gi-neung merely nodded slowly and rose from his seat.
Crash!
It happened in an instant.
Wang Gi-neung’s casually swung kick buried itself in Ryu Gang-cheol’s temple, sending him and the iron torture frame he was tied to crashing over.
“I was trying to settle this on the cheap. This is why you shouldn’t show mercy to those who don’t appreciate kindness.”
Clicking his tongue once, Wang Gi-neung strode forward.
Then Wang Gi-neung planted a foot firmly on Ryu Gang-cheol’s head and continued.
“Tell me, Mr. Ryu Gang-cheol. Do I look like a pushover just because I’ve been speaking politely?”
“Don’t worry... You look like a pushover even without polite speech, Comrade... Cough!”
Ryu Gang-cheol vomited blood.
The psionics flowing from Wang Gi-neung’s foot traveled through the long needles embedded in his body, creating pain as though his internal organs were being squeezed apart.
“Well, I understand. You’ve endured one hundred and eight of the Seven Dragons Society’s famed torture arts, so it’s only natural you’d be confident.”
The Seven Dragons Society’s torture arts.
Each was the pinnacle of torture techniques, inflicting the utmost agony upon a human being.
Enduring more than a hundred of them was proof of superhuman endurance.
It was enough to qualify someone to boast that they could laugh at any torture.
“But don’t grow arrogant. The Seven Dragons Society’s torture arts don’t end with such trifling methods.”
That was why Wang Gi-neung sneered.
Wang Gi-neung had only given Ryu Gang-cheol a taste.
Yet Ryu Gang-cheol had already made the foolish mistake of believing he had overcome everything.
“Oh, and you should abandon any hope that someone will come to save you. Your wonderful comrades won’t be able to rescue you either.”
And there was one more thing.
What might have enabled Ryu Gang-cheol to endure.
Recalling the clue they had barely uncovered after mobilizing every information network not only of the Shanghai Wang Family but of the entire Seven Dragons Society, Wang Gi-neung smiled coldly.
“Ghost of the Liberation Brigade, sir.”
Footnotes:
[1] Nail in one’s pocket: A variation on the Chinese idiom of an awl in a pocket, meaning a person of talent cannot remain hidden for long.
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