Chapter 09. Justice When I Do It, Injustice When Others Do It
“Look at this?”
On a motorcycle, speeding down the road—
I chased after the hero,
and an unexpected scene unfolded before my eyes.
There she was, positioned on the building rooftop, aimed
with a rifle, hiding her presence behind the scope.
Is she a sniper?
I thought for a moment,
but something strange was off.
No evacuation warning had been issued, and in the middle of the rooftop
with people passing by, was she going to snipe someone?
Is she a member of the Management Association’s assassination unit
sniping a monster hiding among people?
But somehow, her actions seemed suspicious:
The assassination unit wouldn’t operate so carelessly.
There was a possibility she appeared after I came out,
but it wasn’t the level where she’d drive around on a motorcycle
advertising that an assassin was here.
“Too suspicious.”
I muttered to myself, biting down on a silver stick.
I need to figure out what she’s up to.
I started to run toward the direction she was aiming.
The distance to the opposite building was far, forcing me to
kick off powerfully from the ground, resulting in cracks on the rooftop.
I felt a bit guilty toward the building owner,
but I had no choice to prevent a suspicious hero.
Feeling the wind blowing between buildings,
I soared into the dark night sky.
Is it because my new outfit is black to hide my body at night?
My black clothes and hair blend into the night’s veil,
while my pale skin is covered by darkness.
I thought it was just a simple change in appearance,
but surprisingly, it seems perfect for stealth.
It feels like the power I desire knows me well. I thought as I kept soaring over the buildings,
and soon enough, I could understand what the snipe was targeting.
“Take this! Iron Fist of Justice!”
The hero crying out a shameful catchphrase to defeat the monster.
Is this really the trend nowadays?
With such lines, wouldn’t they use that time for just one more punch
to train their skills?
And using a technique name, isn’t that just giving the enemy another way to counteract?
Plus, is he broadcasting? There’s a cameraman filming everything.
What a spectacle.
He seems to have forgotten the true hero’s mindset,
being a clown caught up in the world’s gaze.
Under normal circumstances, I’d break a leg or arm
to announce justice, but today’s situation is a bit different.
There’s a woman who’s more concerning than that:
I need to observe the situation for a moment.
No matter how common this hero might seem in this age,
is there a reason to snipe such a hero?
Thinking that, I hid behind the building.
After the exchange of punches between the monster and the hero, the hero gained the upper hand.
“Ultimate Attack! Apocalypse Strike!”
The hero bragging about his finishing move,
bent backward dramatically and threw his punch forward as he soared.
So embarrassing I can’t bear to watch.
It’s just a technique of charging up then hitting the ground hard.
At that moment, I sensed a bullet was fired from the direction of the hero.
A short flash.
A bullet passing in front of my eyes.
Bang!
Immediately followed by a weak sound.
A small gunshot that could merge into the city’s countless noises if I didn’t pay attention.
I focused my senses to determine where the bullet was headed.
Mana concentrated on my head,
and my five senses heightened. Time compressed:
The flow of the bullet cutting through the air:
The bullet’s delayed sound trailing behind the initial whizzing.
Accelerated perception quickly caught up to the bullet:
The predicted trajectory is the hero’s head. If I let this go,
the bullet will embed itself in his head, ending his life.
“Can’t let that happen.”
No matter how much I dislike him,
taking a life is a different matter.
I can’t just let my junior die.
What a lucky break for this guy.
I held the stick in my mouth and dashed straight toward the building wall.
The wall shook from the impact.
The shockwave traveled through the wall,
shattering glass flew into the air:
To catch up to the already-fired bullet, I leaped with all my might.
Just then, the evacuation warning sounded,
there were no people around, and finding an excuse to save someone felt valid, so I unleashed my full power.
Whoosh!
Landing in front of the hero,
the pavement beneath me shattered, ascending into the sky. Among the fragments, I caught a glimpse of the shocked hero’s face,
but that wasn’t particularly important:
“Hero Ambusher!”
“Don’t worry. Today’s ambusher isn’t you:”
With the bullet’s trajectory matching, I raised the hammer:
Ka-Ching!
The bullet lodged into my hammer and began spinning violently.
The weight I felt in my arm could slam that bullet down.
Considering I might end up deflecting the bullet,
I concentrated, pouring in strength to my right arm.
With no other thoughts, I thrust the hammer out,
and with that, the bullet felt as if it might slip out of my fingers.
This wasn’t an ordinary bullet; it was a special one
to fight giant monsters or creatures. There must be additional effects.
Boom!
Suddenly, sparks erupted from behind the bullet, propelling it forward even quicker.
It was too late.
Before I could recognize it wasn’t a typical bullet,
realizing now wasn’t significant: with that,
I swung the hammer back and sent the bullet flying into the air.
Whooooosh!
The bullet that shot up with sparks exploded and vanished:
A reinforced shockwave rose with secondary propulsion and explosion. Damn, that bullet packed a punch. How many effects did I pile into one?
As I watched that firework display,
“Hero Ambusher! What was that:?”
I heard the hero shout behind me.
Hero Ambusher?
Given the context, he’s probably pointing at me.
I let out a dry smile and approached him.
“Someone was aiming at you, but I intervened. Aren’t you grateful?”
“You can’t expect me to believe that.”
Believe if you want or not.
“Just say thanks already, it’s simple enough!”
With that, I swung my leg, and punched his jaw cleanly.
I didn’t adjust the power level, so it seems I knocked him out cold,
because the hero couldn’t even react.
“Oh?”
Just as the last sound left his mouth, the hero collapsed onto the ground.
As the master of the locked punches fell, his body trembled with an overwhelming force,
and he did not rise again.
Looks like I handled things on my side.
I turned to the direction the bullet had come from.
Over there, I spotted the woman holding a gun,
frantically preparing to escape.
What was she doing? I had to ask.
I smiled at the camera as I turned,
then I kicked off from the gritty ground, racing towards her.
The landing impact shattered the pavement,
the dampened soil scattered everywhere.
The Management Association can handle the aftermath after I’m done.
The important thing for me now is to discover her identity:
Crack. Ka-ching!
Thanks to the uncontrolled power from my jump, I almost soared over the building rooftop.
Fortunately, I managed to catch the building railing with my hammer,
but instead, it tore out of the wall.
With the hammer’s end, the striking metal railing clanked as I threw it into the corner of the rooftop.
Clang! Clang!
The misshapen metal railing crashed to the ground with a resonating sound.
With every step, I approached her.
She seemed frightened of me,
dodging slightly with every step I took:
“D-don’t come closer!”
With trembling limbs, her voice quivered with fear.
I certainly didn’t need to heed her plea:
“You running?”
I asked while stroking her chin with my hammer.
“Uh… ah!”
Seemingly more frightened by that,
she trembled and made strange noises.
“I won’t kill you, so just talk to me.”
“Ah… you wouldn’t want to fall from the rooftop, right?”
I pointed at the recently torn railing. This side is empty.
“W-what?”
“Speak quickly.”
‘I respect you, Hero Ambusher!’
What’s this? Is she barking up the wrong tree?
Furrowing my brows,
she stammered with an increasingly fearful expression,
“D-did you not mean what you said?”
I stared straight into her eyes.
“I’m the villain ambushing heroes.
Is it appropriate for heroes to respect such people?”
In society, we call such characters corrupt heroes or villains.
Considering how nervous she looked, it seems
her body was shaking even more as she opened her mouth.
“Y-you’re right! Nowadays heroes aren’t what they should be, and…”
Her words hit me as she struggled to convey her thoughts.
“But… I’m not strong enough to toss anyone away in front of a camera!”
“So, you aimed to kill the hero? Was it to raise awareness?”
“Yes! The media just mocks ambushers,
but they don’t discuss the ideology behind it…”
“You wanted to escalate the situation, huh?”
“Yes!”
So she’s an idealistic hero, wanting to raise awareness against society’s complacency.
Not bad; that’s a sign of awakening.
At least someone is understanding
and trying to cooperate with my ideology:
“Not bad.
Yeah, heroes nowadays have lost their way.”
“Thank you for understanding!”
She shivered but looked bright with happiness after receiving my praise, raising her head.
“But…”
I raised my hammer.
“I don’t plan on killing the hero.”
I brought it down.
“Aaahhhhhh!”
Her right arm broke.
The sharp sound of shattering bones echoed. She rolled over on the rooftop, clutching her arm, howling in pain.
Shut it, child; that screech sounds like a nightmare.
After some time passed,
once she barely calmed herself down,
she raised her face to look at me:
“Um…why?”
“Seems like you don’t comprehend properly. I don’t hate today’s kids.”
Bright heroes: that’s my goal.
Staring into her genuinely sparkling eyes, I kept speaking.
“Heroes aren’t bad. They work,
maintaining social order and getting well-deserved rewards.
But nowadays, they have no idea about hardships;
heroes blindingly shine, thinking
it’s a job to earn a ton of money while becoming famous.”
They don’t know the battlefields
made of flesh and blood; they don’t see the dying people, not the heroes barely surviving.
Thus, they think a strong hero isn’t a perfect hero.
That’s why I inflict hardship on them.
“I’m giving awareness for that kind of society.”
“Enough!”
I cut her off mercilessly.
“If you’re at a point where you’re trying to kill companions,
you could argue that it’s not justice.”
That’s just not something a hero would do.
She seemed like she wanted to voice her opinions further.
Before she could say anything,
I continued to convey my ideology to her.
“Their current positions don’t matter.
It’s necessary and seen as justified with society’s gaze.
They aren’t crimes worthy of death.”
I spoke gently.
“But they can’t be called heroes.
Becoming a hero is mere arrogance,
sacrificing your own pain and choosing to be heroes,
is no joking matter.”
Raising my hammer again.
So I brought it down again.
“If you want to continue remembering my ideology,
you must remember my words.
I bring it up and put it down.
Because you acted unheroically,
I had to punish you one more time.”
*
Sigh.
With a joyful heart, I sang my song
as I headed home.
The hunt had ended, and I saved the poor hero,
plus, I met a woman who understood my thoughts.
With just that, the day had only good news.
Thus I went to the supermarket to grab snacks and beer in large quantities,
whistling as I headed home.
Bang! Bang!
The sound of beer cans clinking felt exhilarating:
today I figured Unho would forgive me even if crumbs from the snacks scattered around.
With joyful heart, I opened the door.
“Unho, I’m home!”
“It’s late.”
A man’s voice?
Somehow, an unfamiliar voice echoed in my ear as I pushed my body into the living room.
“What’s up with you, Haram?”
“I thought Hyunseok was supposed to be here.”
In his pristine navy suit, not a speck of dust on him,
with slicked-back hair,
the elite atmosphere exuding from him.
It was Park Hyunseok, Branch Manager of the Hero Association, sitting in the living room, snacking on goodies with Unho.
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