Translator: Alpha0210
The gunshots rang out five times. In other words, they had absolutely no intention of subduing their opponent.
Bill’s shooting skills were top-notch. Even though it seemed like he was firing indiscriminately, at least three out of the five bullets were undoubtedly lodged in vital spots.
Shwaa-
However, by the time the final gunshot completely subsided and the sound of rain once again filled the air, Residue was still standing there, unmoving.
“……”
Of course, Bill was well aware from his accumulated experience that not everyone hit by bullets reacted dramatically. Sometimes, when a single shot took a life, the target would remain standing like a scarecrow for a moment before their body tilted and collapsed.
But in this torrential rain, it was clearly strange for a lifeless piece of flesh to remain upright for several seconds.
“Huh…”
The moment Residue took a step forward, the uneasiness felt by the men began to take on a definite form.
No one felt it more intensely than Bill. As the shooter, it was only natural for him to sense it most keenly.
Closing the distance in no time, Residue reached out toward the man closest to him. Up until the moment his collar was grabbed, the man seemed unable to comprehend what was happening to him.
“You said you liked rainy days, didn’t you?”
At that moment, the man instinctively realized that something was seriously wrong. He wanted to tightly shut his eyes in the face of the fear rushing toward him, but the gaze of his watching comrades forced him to shout instead.
“L-let go of me…!”
However, the voice that escaped was far too pitiful to be considered a triumph over fear.
“What is it that you like about it? The sound? The smell? The atmosphere? Answer me.”
“I-I can’t… breathe…”
“Let him go, you bastard!”
At Bill’s cry, the men around him simultaneously aimed their guns.
Without even sparing their antics much attention, Residue raised three fingers.
“Don’t move!”
“If you try anything stupid.....”
From the Adam’s apple of the man on the far left to the Adam’s apple of the man on the far right.
Residue traced a line with his fingers.
That was all.
Thud. Seven heavily armed men’s heads slid off their necks, and their now-ownerless bodies collapsed in a heap. Sticky blood pooled on the ground.
“W-what just… happened…”
The man held in Residue’s grasp, Carlos, mumbled in a daze before belatedly realizing the severity of the situation.
This was a person who should never have been provoked!
Carlos knew well about people like this, and he had believed himself capable of identifying such figures at first glance.
Until today. Until this very moment.
Why hadn’t he realized? Damn it! It was because of that damned alcohol…
“W-wait… please, wait a moment. What is it you want?”
“That’s for you to remember. Are you trying to make me repeat myself?”
“Well, um…”
Carlos desperately searched his memory.
Fortunately, his moderately sharp brain still managed to perform its role even now.
“Yes! It was a month’s worth of food. Enough for two people! I’ll get it for you right away. So please, let go of my hand…”
Residue released his grip, tossing Carlos aside as if discarding trash. Carlos fell onto the cement floor, coughing as he hit the ground hard.
Without sparing the pitiful sight a single glance, Residue plopped down onto a nearby stack of boxes. He grabbed a beer can rolling across the table, popped it open, and spoke.
Pshhh-
“I’ll give you three minutes. Don’t even think about wandering off elsewhere.”
Carlos, still on the ground, scrambled backward to put some distance between himself and Residue before frantically nodding his head. Then he hurriedly ran underground.
The underground area was where their entire group’s food supplies were stored.
Three minutes. Three minutes. 180 seconds…
Carlos compulsively counted the seconds as he snatched a backpack lying near the entrance and began stuffing it with cans of food without a second thought.
The image of his comrades, whose heads had been severed without any real resistance, replayed in his mind. The horrifying sight refused to leave, as if it had been permanently etched onto his retinas.
Damn it, what the hell just happened?
‘That guy… He’s someone we should never get involved with.’
As thoughts of those eyes, dulled with boredom, crossed his mind, Carlos's heartbeat quickened violently.
Someone who kills without hesitation, such a person was not rare. In fact, Carlos himself, Bill, and all the members of their organization fell into that category.
But this man… He wasn’t killing anyone for a clear purpose. He didn’t even have a trashy excuse like "to pass the time" or "for fun", which society would rightfully condemn.
More than anything, it was impossible to read what he was thinking.
What was on his mind?
Despite being so strong, someone who could massacre this building and the entire organization with a single finger, why had he made an offer? Why didn’t he just take what he wanted by force?
And what would he do once he was given the supplies?
There was no doubt in Carlos's mind that this man was capable of doing far more if he wanted.
‘…The boss and the main unit should be back soon.’
Carlos briefly considered the odds of victory if the boss and their elite unit were to face this man. The answer came quickly.
Total annihilation.
Crunch.
Carlos stuffed the final can of food into the backpack, pressing it down as hard as he could before heading back up to the first floor.
Residue was sitting in the same position he had been in when Carlos left, but now a few more empty cans lay scattered around him.
“H-here. I brought it.”
Carlos handed over the backpack with the caution of someone handling a newborn baby. Residue snatched it away roughly without even bothering to check its contents.
Then, he quietly stared at Carlos.
“Do you want something more… Oh!”
It was then that Carlos remembered. This man hadn’t only asked for food.
In that moment, Carlos felt like kissing his own head for recalling something that might have saved him from losing it.
“You said you were looking for a boy about fifteen years old? That’s not much of a clue to go on, though…”
“He’s about 150 cm tall, always wearing a flat cap. His dark blonde hair isn’t very visible because of the hat. He would have been here a day or two ago. His name is Luca.”
“Ah, Luca. So that’s who you were looking for.”
“When did he come by?”
Residue had already confirmed that the boy wasn’t in the building, so he asked quietly.
“A-around 8 p.m. yesterday. He came to get some food like usual, but food is scarce on rainy days…”
“You’re spouting nonsense. The food in your underground storage is enough to feed 100 people for three years.”
“H-how do you know that…?”
“…Normally, Luca did odd jobs for us in exchange for food. But on rainy days, there’s almost no work to give him, so…”
“……”
“W-was that boy an acquaintance of yours?”
“Where did he go?”
Carlos swallowed hard before answering.
“UMC.”
*
─He's someone you must never cross if you want to survive in this city.
Joel K. Tucker.
The mayor of Meltown, a butcher, a big boss.
The man who ruled this city was known by many names.
Of course, such facts had no bearing on Residue’s actions. Slinging the backpack full of food over his shoulder, he headed straight for UMC.
What used to be the site of a prestigious university had now been transformed into something resembling a military facility. Barbed wire surrounded the fences, watchtowers were stationed at regular intervals, and beyond the artificial lights, shadows moved with discipline, armed to the teeth and diligently patrolling.
These people were different from the random thugs Residue had faced earlier. There was an unmistakable sense of systematic, trained movement among them.
Residue made his way to the nearest main gate, or checkpoint.
When he was about twenty steps away, the irritating floodlights fixed their beams on him. At least five pairs of eyes locked onto him.
“What is your business here?”
The guard at the gate seemed to think of himself as a soldier.
“I’m looking for someone.”
Residue stated curtly.
The downpour showed no signs of stopping. Residue silently hoped that there would be no thunder this time.
"Someone? Who are you talking about?"
“A boy named Luca. About fifteen years old—”
Residue repeated the same description he had given to Carlos earlier.
The soldier fell silent for a moment before giving a curt reply.
“Please leave now.”
“……”
Not even a “we haven’t seen him”, but an outright dismissal.
Residue pressed his fingers against the corners of his eyes and spoke.
“I’ll say this only once, so listen carefully. Bring Luca to me. This place seems quite large, so I’ll give you thirty minutes, taking that into consideration.”
“……”
The soldier stared blankly at Residue for a moment, then grabbed the radio in his hand.
“There’s an unauthorized trespasser at Checkpoint Four.....Wait! What are you doing?!”
Before the soldier could finish speaking, Residue snatched the radio from his hand and crushed it with his fingers.
"Your decision probably doesn't represent this entire group."
Since explaining things one by one didn't suit his temperament.
As Residue muttered in a low voice, faint sparks of electricity began to form at his fingertips. The soldier felt a strange sense of unease and instinctively moved to steady his submachine gun.
“Huh? That car…”
From deeper within the compound, accompanied by a faint noise, another light flickered. A four-wheeled vehicle glided smoothly over the well-paved asphalt.
Screeech!
As the car came to a halt, the soldier, who had been on the verge of firing his submachine gun, froze in place.
“B-boss?”
“Isn’t today… Tuesday?”
“Open the gate! Now!”
The soldiers acted as though they had seen the grim reaper himself. The car door opened, and a man stepped out.
He was a middle-aged man with deeply etched eye wrinkles.
The soldiers referred to him as “Boss”.
In other words, this man was Joel K. Tucker, the ruler of this city.
“The rain doesn’t seem to want to let up. Ah, no need to be so tense.”
“B-boss, what brings you here…”
The soldier who had spoken with Residue saluted as he spoke, but before he could finish, Tucker gave a soft smile and fired his gun.
Bang!
The bullet lodged directly into the man’s forehead, and he collapsed with the same saluting posture still frozen on his face.
"Today I'd prefer to be called Mr. Mayor. It's that kind of day."
“……”
Punishment first, warnings later. That was one of Tucker’s twisted habits. Adding to the difficulty, his mood changed daily, so no matter how cautious his subordinates were, it never seemed to matter.
The icy silence didn’t last long.
The people nearby moved swiftly and efficiently to clean up the corpse. Their movements were practiced and precise.
Meanwhile, Tucker sniffed the barrel of his gun once before holstering it. Then he turned to Residue and gave a bright smile.
“If you don’t mind, I hope this suffices to forgive my friend’s rudeness?”
Whether or not Residue would forgive the man was irrelevant, he was already dead.
Of course, this didn’t pose much of an issue for Residue.
“The only one being rude here is you. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
“……!”
As Residue’s annoyed voice broke the silence, those around them inhaled sharply. They could swear they had never imagined there could be a person who would dare to speak to Tucker like that.
But what was even more surprising was Tucker’s reaction.
“Haha. No problem at all. I already know what your business is.”
Tucker motioned toward his car with a nod.
“Shall we discuss it inside?”
*
The car’s interior was spacious and tranquil, and it remained that way even after the vehicle began moving.
It was unlike the inside of a typical vehicle. The sofas were arranged lengthwise, and the lighting was soft yet exuded an air of luxury.
“Come in.”
Residue plopped down on the expensive-looking sofa, his robe dripping wet from the rain. He didn’t bother wringing it out, and the dampness made one of the aides sitting stiffly nearby flinch slightly.
Before the aide could say anything, Tucker stopped him with a gesture, opening a small refrigerator with his other hand.
“Care for a drink? The selection isn’t vast, but it’s something.”
“Water.”
“Ah, simple and to the point. Simplicity is best, indeed.”
Tucker let out a low chuckle as he pulled a bottle of mineral water from the small fridge and handed it to Residue. Without hesitation, Residue opened the cap and poured it down his throat. …But the thirst didn’t seem to go away.
"The boy Luca is safe."
Tucker said, breaking the silence.
Residue cast a sideways glance at him.
Tucker smiled warmly, baring his bright white teeth.
“Not a scratch on him. I guarantee it.”
“Why did you detain him?”
“My subordinates only responded appropriately to the situation. In fact, they were more gentlemanly than usual. Normally, food theft would result in an immediate execution, no warnings given. The only reason he’s alive is because of his age.”
“Well, that’s fortunate.”
“……”
Tucker’s expression shifted subtly.
Was it too much to interpret Residue’s remark as carrying a double meaning?
Residue downed the rest of the water in the bottle and then looked at Tucker.
“Talk. What do you know?”
This man’s attitude was far too cautious and polite for someone dealing with a trespasser or a rogue. Even if only half the rumors surrounding Tucker were true, such behavior made no sense.
In other words, Tucker must know something about him.
“This city is mine.”
Tucker began, pouring himself a glass of wine from the fridge.
"And I suffer from an obsessive need to know exactly how much is in my pocket."
Not just cash, down to the very last coin. Tucker added this in a nonchalant tone before his expression grew more serious.
“What you did in Scorpion was impressive.”
Residue blinked at him silently, and Tucker let out a dry laugh.
“Don’t tell me you killed them without knowing anything about them?”
“Am I supposed to know the names of every insignificant fly I swat?”
“Of course not… but Scorpion is one of the top five organizations in this city.”
It was only then that Residue realized Scorpion referred to the group he had encountered just before arriving at UMC.
“So, you’ve been watching me.”
“If that made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”
“This conversation is dragging on. Get to the point already.”
“Hmm. This isn’t the kind of talk that others should overhear. Would you mind continuing it in my office?”
Tucker smiled slyly just as the vehicle came to a halt.
“Looks like we’ve arrived.”
*
Tucker’s office was enormous.
Even for someone who might deal with a mountain of paperwork every day, this amount of space seemed excessive. In other words, the office blatantly screamed luxury, especially with the unnecessary artworks that filled the room.
“I’ve already sent word, so you’ll likely reunite with your companion shortly. At most, within fifteen minutes. Which means we have just enough time to finish our discussion.”
“……”
“[The hardest thing is finding someone you can trust to keep at your side.] That’s something my father used to say often.”
Residue found Tucker irritating.
His roundabout way of talking, throwing out unnecessary topics before finally getting to the main point, was especially annoying.
“In the past, I agreed with him. I thought finding someone trustworthy was the most difficult thing. But as you know, after the world turned into this mess, my perspective shifted. It’s much harder to find someone strong than someone trustworthy.”
“Get to the point.”
This was the second time.
At Residue’s sharp demand, Tucker’s expression turned serious.
“I need your strength. On a day that’s approaching soon, I want you to stand by my side. For just one day.”
“You’re proposing a deal?”
“That’s right.”
“And if I refuse?”
Tucker’s expression grew somber, and he turned his gaze out the window.
“They say tragedies often happen on rainy days. For some reason, I can’t help but wonder if something unfortunate might happen to your companion who’s on their way here. Of course, there’s no clear causal relationship… but you never know.”
Residue smiled for the first time.
He looked at Tucker with an amused expression and said,
“You’ve made two mistakes.”
“…What?”
“First, that kid means nothing to me. Even if he dies a miserable death in the ‘tragedy’ you mentioned, it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.”
“……”
“And second, negotiations are led by the party that holds the clear advantage.”
“You’re saying I’m not in that position?”
“Would you deny it?”
“This is my castle.”
“Yes, a place where 1,200 armed pieces of trash are concentrated. Are the men stationed in the adjacent rooms and above and below us the specially selected trash you handpicked?”
Tucker’s composure cracked. His smile disappeared, and his face openly displayed his bewilderment.
The man he thought he could easily manipulate now loomed over him like a towering giant, making him feel small and insignificant.
1,200 - that was the exact number of armed personnel stationed at UMC. Only five people, including Tucker himself, knew this number.
How did he find that out?
And even knowing it, was this attitude just bravado or was it genuine confidence?
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freewebnovel.cσ๓.
Tucker hesitated for a brief moment before coming to a swift conclusion.
“I apologize for my rudeness up to this point.”
His tone changed. His attitude shifted.
But Residue’s expression remained unchanged.
“I’ll concede the upper hand to you. If there’s anything else you want, just say the word.”
“There’s nothing.”
To be more precise, even if he said what he truly wanted, it wasn’t something a mere mortal like Tucker could provide.
“…In that case, I’ll have no choice but to explain my situation honestly and ask for your understanding.”
Residue gave him a look that seemed to say, Talk all you want. Whatever Tucker’s dire situation was, it wasn’t enough to compel Residue to help him.
That is, until an interesting name caught his attention.
“In one week, someone from PFA will be visiting.”
“Peacefinder Armlet.”
“That’s right.”
Tucker nodded.
“Formally, it’s a goodwill visit. But in reality, it’s an attempt to exert influence and assess our strength. A rather dull game of reconnaissance.”
“……”
“I want to turn the purpose of their visit on its head.”
“What, are you asking me to kill them?”
Tucker flinched at the question.
Peacefinder Armlet was one of the most powerful organizations in the world. It wasn’t as if Tucker didn’t understand the implications of provoking them.
“No, no. Didn’t I already tell you? All I want is for you to protect me for that one day. I plan to say a few things they might find… impolite.”
“……”
“If you agree to my proposal, I’ll grant you anything you want.”
“Such as?”
“What do you desire? Money, power, people… In this city, there’s nothing I can’t obtain. But you don’t strike me as someone interested in worldly things.”
That was accurate. Tucker was at least quick-witted.
Residue reconsidered. Just moments ago, he had planned to obliterate this entire compound along with Tucker. But the mention of one particular name had made him pause.
Peacefinder Armlet.
“Fine. I don’t see why I can’t entertain your proposal. But only if you offer me adequate compensation.”
“Name it.”
“Your arm.”
“…What?”
“One arm should suffice.”
Crunch. A second later, Tucker’s arm was crushed.
“Urgh…!”
Tucker’s eyes widened as pain shot through him. With his remaining hand, he pressed against the bleeding stump to stop the flow of blood.
“At least you’re not making a big fuss about it. I appreciate that.”
Residue smirked and stood up, striding toward Tucker’s desk. He reached out toward the electronic device resting there. Bzzzt. A surge of electricity ran through the device, automatically bypassing the password and unlocking the screen.
“W-wait…”
“Move, and you die.”
Residue’s voice was cold as he warned Tucker, then began scanning the windows that appeared on the screen.
As expected, there was information about Peacefinder Armlet.
Their founding purpose, organizational structure, members, allied groups, and even personal notes left by Tucker.
Residue wasn’t interested in any of that.
What caught his attention was the exact date of their visit and the list of members who would be coming.
[This is unexpected. I thought they would send a mid-ranking board member at best.]
[Did their route align with their next plan? Or do they have some other agenda?]
[It doesn’t matter either way. In fact, this is good. This could be an opportunity.]
[An opportunity to leave an impression on the president of Peacefinder.]
Iris Peacefinder.
One week from now, she would visit this city.
At that realization, Residue’s lips curled into a faint smile.