Urban Vagabond: Reload

Back in my room, I was thinking about what Park Gwangtae had said right before he hung up.

—Ah, and about what you told me to investigate, Mr. Killer! I dug into the White-Masked Swordsman’s background, and...

I hadn’t felt Phantom Dream’s presence inside the arena, but there was a chance Gu Hyeonwoo had it hidden at home.

That was why I’d asked Park Gwangtae to look into Gu Hyeonwoo.

Gu Hyeonwoo didn’t look like someone bewitched by Phantom Dream today, but...

“I should confirm it myself.”

*****

Late at night.

Gu Hyeonwoo got a call from his underground arena manager. Like always, the voice was curt.

[A big event got booked. They’re only taking applications from swordsmen. You interested?]

“A match with a big prize?”

A moment later, when he heard the total prize was ten billion won, Gu Hyeonwoo’s mouth fell open.

The largest event ever—held outside the arena.

And they said it was a pure prize with none of the arena’s infamous fees deducted.

“Then I’d really get the full ten billion...”

[Honestly, I’ve got a bad feeling.]

It was the kind of offer anyone would jump at, but the manager’s voice carried a sour unease as he delivered it.

[There’s a rumor even experts who aren’t from the arena are joining... I’m telling you because I have to, but don’t participate this time.]

“Hah. You’re the only one who worries about me.”

[Worry, my ass! It’s obvious you’ll kill nobody and just get stabbed again! If I lose one income stream, I lose too—that’s why I’m stopping you!]

That was why Gu Hyeonwoo couldn’t bring himself to hate his blunt manager.

The manager always screamed curses at him for coming out of matches without killing anyone, but underneath it was worry.

And it was the manager who kept booking him matches so he could keep paying down his massive debts, even if only a little at a time.

[In my experience, matches this big aren’t about skill. If you’re unlucky, you die. That’s it.]

“.......”

Normally, Gu Hyeonwoo would’ve followed his manager’s opinion without hesitation.

But—

—How about you change that worthless conviction, even now?

At that moment, the words the Goggle Killer had said the day before flashed through his mind.

A man who seemed like a fellow orthodox swordsman, yet he stirred the arena crowd into a frenzy like someone who’d been rolling around in that pit for years.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.

The biggest reason was his debt—no matter how many days he reported to the underground arena, it never shrank.

“......I’ll participate.”

[What? Did you not hear me? I said it’s dangerous if you go out there! If you die, what happens to the kid!]

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of making my daughter an orphan. I’ll pay off all my debt with the prize money, and I’ll reward you handsomely as well.”

He expected the manager to like the part about a reward, but instead the manager let out a frustrated sigh.

[Just think about it one more time. I know how strong you are, but...]

“See you later.”

After he ended the call, Gu Hyeonwoo let out a long sigh.

In the mirror, killing intent flickered in his eyes.

Gaunt complexion, a beard grown out without care. There wasn’t a trace left of the man who’d once been famed as a pinnacle swordsman.

“All that over some stupid conviction...”

SHIIING.

He half-drew his sword and stared at himself in the mirror, letting out a low chuckle.

“Dad...”

At the voice from outside, Gu Hyeonwoo hurriedly sheathed the sword. Forcing a bright smile onto his face, he opened the door.

“Jiu. Can’t sleep?”

The small, pale-faced girl was the only meaning left in Gu Hyeonwoo’s life.

“I’m sleepy... but I wanted to say hi before you go to work.”

“Let’s go to your room. Dad will tuck you in.”

Gu Hyeonwoo lifted his daughter—who was rubbing her sleepy eyes—and carried her into the room.

After his wife died suddenly in a traffic accident, Gu Hyeonwoo hadn’t been in his right mind for a long time. And after he learned his only daughter had a severed meridian condition, he didn’t even have time to grieve—he’d just lived day to day for her treatment.

He could no longer maintain the Supreme Pole Sword Gate his family had protected since his grandfather’s time. The dozens of disciples drifted away one by one, and loan sharks took their place.

“Do you want Dad to read you a storybook?”

“But you have to go to work...”

“It’s okay if I’m a little late.”

As he looked at his daughter lying in bed, pale-faced, watching him, sorrow gathered in the father’s eyes.

A severed meridian condition fell into two broad categories.

One that, if treated successfully, could change into a constitution capable of great martial achievement.

And one that, if treated, would only barely allow someone to live an ordinary life.

In the former case, major sects would come swarming in, offering huge treatment funds and even providing miracle elixirs—

On the condition that the patient would join their sect later.

But his daughter, Gu Jiu, was the latter.

Worse, it was an intractable severed meridian condition with no known treatment.

Even the hospital told him there was no real method, and that he should spend as much time with the child as possible.

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Gu Hyeonwoo read to her and stroked her hair until she fell into soft sleep. And as if making a vow to the sleeping child, he whispered,

“Dad will make you better. No matter what it takes...”

Resolve carved itself into his trembling eyes.

For years, if there was any miracle elixir said to be good for the body, he hunted it down and fed it to her. He sought out renowned Therapists, spellcasters, even shamans.

Even so, he still hadn’t found a way to treat her—only piled up endless debt. But Gu Hyeonwoo couldn’t give up.

“Dad can do anything for you.”

In Gu Hyeonwoo’s bloodshot eyes, a quiet killing intent settled.

If he made big money in this match, he could buy miracle elixirs he’d never even dared to consider before, or try new methods.

“To save you, if I have to kill a hundred people... I’ll do it.”

Muttering, Gu Hyeonwoo left for the underground arena to earn money.

The lights went completely out in the Supreme Pole Sword Gate, and all that remained was Gu Jiu’s even breathing as she slept.

Ssssssh.

And then I appeared there.

I’d come to secretly search Gu Hyeonwoo’s home, and I ended up seeing a scene I never expected. I muttered,

“......He had a kid.”

Talbaek Sword Gu Hyeonwoo was a pinnacle swordsman, but he was mentally shaken and his attention was dulled.

Even so, he never sensed me in the end—me, who’d been personally taught concealment and infiltration by Choi Geon.

I don’t feel the cursed sword’s presence.

Even when I looked with spirit sight, I didn’t sense anything unusual inside the Supreme Pole Sword Gate.

But I didn’t jump to conclusions. I started searching the Supreme Pole Sword Gate directly. He might have sealed the presence and hidden it somewhere.

After about an hour of turning the place inside out, I ended up standing in front of the room where Gu Jiu was sleeping.

HRRRNNG—...

Without leaving even a hint of footstep, I slipped into Gu Jiu’s room.

Over the face of the sleeping young girl, I saw my own face from when I’d lost my parents and fallen into despair.

“.......”

It was a strange feeling. I’d never once imagined that even the enemy who’d destroyed my family could have a family too.

A thought suddenly came to me.

After Gu Hyeonwoo died, what kind of life had this kid lived?

“......Who are you?”

Gu Jiu had opened her eyes at some point and was looking straight at me.

A stranger with goggles and a mask should’ve been terrifying, but her expression was surprisingly composed.

I hesitated for a moment, then answered.

“Your dad’s friend.”

“......My dad doesn’t have any friends.”

When naked wariness surfaced all over the girl’s face, I let out an incredulous laugh.

“Isn’t that a little harsh? Your dad could have friends you don’t know about.”

“Dad doesn’t have time to meet friends. Except for work, he’s always next to me, nursing me.”

Was there anyone in the world who knew what Gu Hyeonwoo was like better than this kid?

The moment I heard that, even the last shred of suspicion—that Gu Hyeonwoo might have Phantom Dream hidden—disappeared.

I squatted down in front of Gu Jiu and met her eyes at the same level.

“You have a severed meridian condition, right? Tell me your symptoms.”

“......Why?”

“Because I might know a way to fix it.”

For a moment her eyes widened—then she answered with a downcast look.

“The hospital said they can’t fix it. But you can? Are you a doctor?”

I wasn’t a doctor, and I wasn’t some expert who knew severed meridian conditions inside out.

But I did know a combination of miracle elixirs that worked extremely well for treating severed meridian conditions.

Not something known now—but something that would become so common in about twenty years that everyone would know it. Unless it was a special severed meridian condition like the Nine-Yin Severed Meridian, most of them could be treated that way.

“You never know, right? Maybe I’m Santa Claus who came to you.”

“Pfft. Liar...”

Still wary of the man in goggles and a mask, Gu Jiu hesitated—then began to tell me her symptoms.

*****

A few days later.

The day of the underground arena’s biggest event arrived.

“Mr. Killer! This way—get in here!”

I rode in the van Park Gwangtae had prepared.

Inside the vehicle, which had been completely blacked out, there were several swordsmen already seated. They were arena-affiliated martial artists under Park Gwangtae’s management.

The stench of blood is already thick.

I leaned back comfortably against the seat.

All phones and electronic devices had been surrendered in advance.

Kim Bokja and Shin Kangheon will move on their own just fine.

I’d already delivered everything they needed to do outside, so I wasn’t worried about them.

After spending several hours on roads I couldn’t even guess the destination of—

The moment I got out of the vehicle, what I saw was the inside of a cave, deep and wide, a huge chamber that looked like it could easily hold around a hundred people.

[Welcome, one hundred swordsmen participating in the event.]

At the familiar voice, I looked up. Oho’s voice was echoing quietly through speakers installed in the cave ceiling.

[Each of you has a prize of one hundred million won on your head. On the necklace you received from your manager, there should be an identification tag engraved with your participant number.]

The participants fingered the necklaces they’d been given when they got into the van—shaped like military dog tags.

Those quick on the uptake realized what the numbered identification tag meant.

[When the match ends, we will redeem one tag as one hundred million won in cash, so please be careful not to lose them.]

In other words—kill the other participants and take their tags.

Participants clenched their tags in their hands and looked around. Greed settled into eyes that glared at others.

“So it’s one hundred million per tag, right?”

“Heh-heh-heh. Easy money.”

“Hand it over nicely, and I’ll let you keep your head.”

There were plenty who were already clashing momentum.

It looked like the slaughter match would explode the moment someone said “Start.”

I checked my own number.

<100>

I didn’t know if it was intentional or coincidence, but it was the last number.

“Let’s start already!”

“I’ve been itching after sitting in that van for hours!”

The impatient ones had already drawn their swords, letting loose a vicious killing intent.

Some were slowly backing away, hunting for an opening. Others were already moving like they wanted to form groups.

Oho didn’t stop any of it.

[Then I will explain the rules. You must choose one of the five tunnels you see ahead and enter. The moment you do, the match begins.]

At the front of the chamber, there were five tunnels—wide enough for multiple people to pass through at once. Inside them was pitch-black darkness, nothing visible.

[The tunnels split and merge. Always be prepared for traps, poison, and ambush. The final winner—the only one who defeats the competitors and finds the exit—will receive prize money equal to the number of identification tags they brought...]

Oho stopped mid-sentence.

In the middle of everyone listening, one person was already leaping into the center tunnel.

SHWEEEAAAK!

It was me.

[...Participant 100 is impatient. Very well. From this moment, we will begin the slaughter game of the one hundred swordsmen.]

Swordsmen surged toward the five tunnels, bursting killing intent as they moved. A group even rushed straight after me.

But I didn’t care who chased from behind. I only focused forward.

Phantom Dream is in there.

Following the cursed sword’s presence I felt deep inside the cave, I ran.