Chapter 61

Chapter 61

“…Yes, understood.”

After ending the call, Lee Sehee gave a light shudder and twisted her body. A thrill ran through her.

Though it had only been over the phone, the killing intent she’d felt from the other end had been intense.

“Scary.”

That was her honest impression.

At the same time, it was electrifying.

The fact that someone this terrifying could be on her side, that she could watch him from up close—it put her heart at ease.

Enough that, if she had her way, she’d want to take him in her hands and keep him for life.

It didn’t particularly matter that Kim Jonghyeon had run off with the data. This kind of thing happened all the time, and they had countermeasures in place.

Even if he took the USB containing the data, he’d have to break through three layers of security, and if he couldn’t crack it perfectly, the data would jumble into useless garbage.

If anything, it was laughable that he’d made such a foolish choice without even realizing how well he was being treated.

“Idiot.”

She hoped Choi Junho hadn’t been hurt by this whole affair. Even if he was the transcendent of iron and blood, getting wounded in personal relationships was the same for anyone.

“Or maybe this is an opportunity?”

What if she slipped into the crack left by his wounded relationships? It might actually be a golden opportunity.

Just then, a knock came, and Lee Youngtan entered.

His expression had gone stiff upon hearing the news of Kim Jonghyeon’s escape.

“I’ll prepare a pursuit team.”

“Have the pursuit team watch the Busan direction as planned. They’re the bait. Make a big show of moving.”

“Pardon? If they’re the bait, then…”

“Because the real Grim Reaper will be paying a visit.”

Now that Choi Junho had decided to handle it personally, Kim Jonghyeon was a dead man.

* * *

Lee Sehee said the places that had made contact with Heartworker were three: the Chinese government, a US-origin corporation that had once been multinational, and a company whose true identity was unknown, operating through a proxy.

She said even she couldn’t figure out what lurked behind them. There were many parties who wanted the processing method, and a fierce war was being waged out of sight.

It didn’t matter which one it was. That bastard had used the goodwill I’d shown him and repaid kindness with betrayal.

Lee Sehee had said there’d be no major damage even if the data leaked, but that was a separate issue.

Now I needed to track down Heartworker.

“He’s not that much of a fool.”

Shinseong Group had pegged Busan as Heartworker’s escape destination, but that was wrong. The bastard was clever in petty ways. If he’d built something in Busan, maybe, but with his partners in Jagalchi wiped out, that thread was completely severed.

This was a guy who absolutely loathed long escape routes unless he had a sure lifeline. If he’d left traces pointing to Busan, the odds were high he’d gone in the opposite direction.

In my past life, he’d always said that if he got the chance, he wanted to flee overseas through Incheon.

Knowing that location, I checked for Heartworker’s traces and then requested a helicopter.

“There’s a villain out there shrinking the nation’s tax revenue.”

And shrinking the money I’m going to make, too.

* * *

Kim Jonghyeon, who’d been reported to have fled toward Busan, was holed up on the outskirts of Seoul, not moving a muscle.

Normally, a fugitive would put as much distance as possible between themselves and the crime scene without looking back, but Kim Jonghyeon did the exact opposite.

Following the traces he’d deliberately left behind, Shinseong Guild sent a pursuit team toward Busan.

Watching Shinseong Guild’s movements closely, Kim Jonghyeon wore a smug smile.

“Hehehe, they took the bait after all.”

Big organizations tended to be so overconfident in their own systems that they lacked flexibility—and once they went off track, they’d veer all the way to a point of no return.

This was the same case.

Shinseong Guild, priding itself on being the best in the country, had veered off beautifully.

“I don’t know how much this data is worth, but all I have to do is take the money and hand it over. If they treat me well, I’ll leech off them for a few years and then bolt.”

Kim Jonghyeon cradled the USB in his hand preciously.

The value of the data on this USB didn’t really matter. But just holding it was enough to convince them that he had the data.

“The really important stuff is in my head and in my hands.”

He’d been astonished when he first learned the processing method. It had stuck to his hands like it had been his from the start.

After that, the pace of development was astonishing. Choi Junho passed on the theory and provided the finished products, and Shinseong Group moved as one body to match his improved goods.

He could see just how formidable the power of a major corporation was, how systematic their processes were. And thus the Big Bang Series was born.

With a high salary and generous treatment attached, he’d initially thought he’d bury his bones here.

But as time passed, his thinking began to shift little by little.

The freedom he’d had in Busan didn’t exist in Seoul. Even if the Big Bang Series information was important, the control was excessive. They inspected his belongings every time he clocked in and out, and even during personal time, if he deviated from a set route, a confirmation call would come without fail.

It felt like being inside a cage. There was no freedom here. He wanted to drink, he wanted to meet women, but Shinseong Guild was too busy controlling everything to even loosen the leash.

When he thought about quitting, the contract he’d excitedly written up at the time got in the way. Confidentiality, non-compete clauses—everything was full of restrictions.

“Didn’t I do all of it?”

Wasn’t the Big Bang Series a result completed by his very existence?

Yet his performance bonuses were small, he got no recognition—so why should he follow the contract obediently?

His dissatisfaction with the company naturally led to friction with the people around him. As the intensity grew worse and he finally received an internal disciplinary action, he exploded.

“Those bastards.”

Pretending not to know everything he’d done for them and casting him aside.

Fine, then I’ll just leave!

But leaving just like that felt too unfair. In the end, hadn’t he just been squeezed dry?

And then, as if they’d been waiting for that moment, someone approached him.

They offered astronomical compensation. If he personally taught them the processing method, they’d not only settle him locally but grant whatever demands he had.

The most tempting offer came from the US-origin multinational corporation. To make their pitch, they sent an extremely beautiful woman.

She was a woman with a sophisticated, model-like figure. She asked to be called Belus, and as she grew deeply involved with Kim Jonghyeon, she whispered to him in bed every night.

“You should be displaying your talent somewhere bigger.”

Belus rebuilt Kim Jonghyeon’s shattered self-esteem, condemned the exploitative Shinseong Group and Choi Junho, and mocked a world that failed to recognize his talent.

They laughed and chatted together, but as practical concerns closed in, Kim Jonghyeon felt his breath catch.

When he thought of leaving, Choi Junho’s image flickered before his eyes.

“Head Breaker…”

He still couldn’t forget the moment Jagalchi had vanished.

The memory of that day—when villains who’d been laughing and chatting with him moments before became chunks of blood and flesh and disappeared—was branded into him as deep terror.

He was afraid that if he betrayed them too, he’d end up the same way.

Each time, Belus whispered in her sweet voice.

“Don’t be afraid. Choi Junho is a transcendent with a mountain of work. He won’t come after you just because you disappear. You only need to shake off Shinseong Guild’s pursuit team.”

Those words gave Kim Jonghyeon confidence. As if bewitched, he erased Choi Junho’s afterimage from his mind.

“R-right? A transcendent is so busy—no way he’d come after me. Things run fine without me, don’t they? Right, that’s how it’ll be. He won’t come.”

Come to think of it, even during the Big Bang Series development, Choi Junho had barely shown his face.

The showcase was the only time he’d seen him. Maybe he’d been more frightened than necessary.

The schedule of a transcendent was so busy, after all.

He might not even notice if Kim Jonghyeon vanished.

“That’s right. Now just focus on your own happiness. You’re a person with that ability. You should display your talent somewhere bigger.”

At Belus’s encouragement, Kim Jonghyeon prepared to leave as if possessed, and now here he was.

Of course, he had no intention of being bound to a company for life. He’d receive the utmost treatment for a year or two, and once the surveillance loosened, he’d take his accumulated money and bolt.

“Well then, let’s go.”

Shinseong Guild believed his destination was Busan, but where he was headed was Incheon.

From here, he’d board a ship—the one the company had prepared—and stow away.

Conveniently, most of Incheon’s villain organizations had evaporated, so security was lax.

When the night grew deep and quiet, Kim Jonghyeon rode a motorcycle out of Seoul and headed for Incheon. And when he reached the area near the port that was their meeting spot, he abandoned the motorcycle near an abandoned building. So the engine noise wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention.

A little further and he’d reach the place where he was to meet Belus, and after that, it was farewell to South Korea.

“Hehe, see? This is how you make an escape. Head Breaker or whatever he’s called, he can’t catch me.”

That bastard Choi Junho.

Showing him goodwill from the start had all been to use him.

And then he’d pretended to give while taking all the profits for himself.

He swore that once he improved the processing method further, he’d spit in that bastard’s rice bowl. Thinking about it that way, it felt good—like he was giving the slip to someone he could never lay a hand on.

As expected, everything Belus said was right.

“Let’s never meet again, you bastard.”

Just as he spat a thick glob of phlegm and moved toward the port—

“That bastard you mean—is it me?”

“Huh?”

Standing in the direction of the port, looking at him, was Choi Junho—and Kim Jonghyeon’s brain stopped dead.

* * *

Heartworker came to the place where I was waiting. As expected, he didn’t deviate from my predictions.

No—I hadn’t predicted his betrayal, so I was wrong.

Even so, there was no sense of betrayal.

Because I’d known from the start that he was this kind of bastard.

In my past life too, he’d chased women like that and eventually left. I’d tried to reform a guy who was dissolute relative to his skill, but people don’t change after all.

I’d caused Lee Sehee trouble for nothing. I’d brought in the trash and made a mess, so I’d have to clean it up with my own hands.

“Ha, hahaha! What a coincidence, meeting you here!”

“Go on. Keep badmouthing me.”

“No way. It was someone else. Someone else, I swear. There’s a guy named Choi Junwoo at the research institute, so it must have sounded similar. It definitely wasn’t you.”

“……”

When I quietly stared at him, he grew restless. I felt a faint Force wave. I’d wondered if he’d improved this much in the meantime—but no. That was the trace of a gift or drugs.

He must have been thoroughly chewed up and sucked dry.

Not even aware of his own condition, the bastard was busy making excuses.

“I-I don’t know what Shinseong Guild told you, but the control has been too severe all this time. They interfered with everything I did, looked down on me for not being a public recruitment hire, workplace ostracization on top of that… Compared to everything I’ve done, I haven’t received nearly enough recognition.”

Heartworker poured out his grievances about his time at Shinseong Guild.

“So I couldn’t take it anymore and just had a brief lapse. I swear it’s true.”

With that, he pulled a red USB from his pocket. That one’s fake.

“I heard from Lee Sehee it was green.”

“…Haha, I got confused. This is the real one.”

Then he pulled out a green USB. And he got down on his knees and pressed his head to the floor.

“My mother passed away and I briefly lost my mind. I was wrong. Please forgive me just this once.”

“Get up.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. From now on I’ll work quietly like a dead mouse. Thank you for sparing my life.”

“I wasn’t planning to spare you.”

This guy was misunderstanding something.

“Pardon?”

By the time Heartworker looked up, I was already standing in front of him.

Since this was the end anyway, I’d let him run his mouth to his heart’s content.

“Are you done with your last words?”

“W-wait.”

I didn’t listen to another word. I stomped on his thigh.

Crunch!

“Aaaagh!”

I broke his ankle and knee in turn as he writhed on the ground.

People think they’re clever, that misfortune won’t come for them—but that’s a miscalculation.

Most regret it only after it happens.

Even after I’d wiped out Jagalchi right in front of him as a warning, this was the result.

In the end, his own will had pushed him in that direction—whether through brainwashing or drugs, he’d let himself be taken.

“Kugh! Kkugh!”

“I thought if I removed regret from this life, you might change like Oh Jongyeop did. Guess you’re not.”

“Th-the League.”

“What?”

“The place that was trying to take me! I’ll tell you everything about the League! So please, just spare—”

Crunch!

I wasn’t particularly curious about the League, so I stomped on his head. Once his head shattered into pieces, the writhing movements stopped completely.

I picked up the USB. It was covered in blood and now hard to use.

Taking this would only get me used and then discarded—what a waste of a good opportunity.

He wouldn’t know anything about the trial-and-error process anyway, so whoever copied him would hit a wall soon enough. And then they’d meet an end even more miserable than his.

“Since I’ve brought the goods, I should see the faces of the ones who came to collect.”

The League. A name I hadn’t heard since Berserker annihilated them—and now we were tangled up like this.

I headed for the port, which was certainly where they’d arranged to meet.

On the way, I came face to face with a woman standing in the middle of the road.

She had a sophisticated, urban beauty and a tall, well-proportioned figure.

A tear-shaped mole beneath her right eye strangely drew the gaze.

The woman looked at me and smiled with her eyes.

“So you’re the Head Breaker?”