Back pay secured!
Descending the stairs with a lighter weight on his shoulders, Su Jin wandered aimlessly down the street, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
Despite having nowhere to be, a faint, lingering satisfaction warmed his chest.
He hadn't walked far before he paused, glancing slightly over his shoulder.
A bloated silhouette had been tailing him from the shadows for a while now.
He didn't even need to think; the heavy, shuffling footsteps were a dead giveaway.
Su Jin scratched his head, a wry smile creeping onto his face.
Wang Yuntong, that absolute bastard, was a special breed of stubborn. So much time had passed since their clash, and despite having held the upper hand back then, the man still clung to him like a cheap, sticky bandage.
'Vindictive' didn't even begin to cover it.
But right now, Su Jin simply lacked the energy to entertain him.
Having survived the bloody meat grinder of the apocalypse, mundane grievances felt trivial. He couldn't even muster a spark of genuine anger.
As long as this piece of trash kept to his own bin, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
Wandering the streets, watching the dense, crawling traffic, an idea flickered in Su Jin's mind.
Maybe it was time to buy a car.
Tie up loose ends today, grab a massive dinner tonight, and find a decent dive bar to drown his thoughts.
Tomorrow, he would head home.
His pockets were finally heavy. He needed a good ride—a luxury car, a sleek sports car!
....
Inside the dealership.
"Sir, out of all the models we've viewed, this one hits every mark. It packs a punch, sips fuel, and the cargo space is absolutely massive," the salesman pitched, clutching a glossy brochure.
"How's the off-road suspension?" Su Jin asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
The salesman snorted a laugh. "Brother, you're a riot. What kind of off-roading are you doing in a Jinbei van? Besides, it's only fifty thousand. Are you hauling freight or what? I can pull up a different model for you."
"I just need something that holds cargo, doubles as a shelter, and handles any terrain. Rugged, bulletproof, built to cross the globe. The kind of rig that gives me a sense of security," Su Jin mused.
"Brother, are you trying to be a travel vlogger?" The salesman gave him a weird look. "Then you need an RV. But a decent rig will run you a hell of a lot more than fifty thousand. Still, this van isn't a lost cause. Custom mods get a lot of eyeballs online. Just look at this chassis..."
"Thanks, I'll keep looking."
Su Jin gave a dismissive reply, turned on his heel, and walked out of the showroom.
A few blocks down, he slumped onto the concrete steps of a street-side mall.
He fished the company's onboarding notice from his jacket pocket, staring at it until the letters blurred.
The prospect of going home was a relief, but the Sword of Damocles remained suspended inches above his neck.
He had walked in wanting a sports car, yet his instincts had dragged him straight to the utility vans.
What the hell was his subconscious doing... he was still instinctively bracing for the end of the world.
Did he, deep down, actually want to join the Company?
But if he truly wanted to sign his life away, why did this piece of paper remain completely dead?
Seeing the ruin of others as his own ruin... what was this world destined to become?
Su Jin tilted his head up. The smoggy sky offered no answers, only thickening the gloom settling over his thoughts.
"Sigh..."
The suffocating dread killed any lingering desire to car-shop. Su Jin pushed himself up and resumed his aimless march through the city.
...
Night fell.
After systematically demolishing the menus of five different night market stalls, Su Jin headed home, a greasy plastic bag of street food swinging from his hand.
Leaving the neon glare of the market behind, the surrounding lights grew sparse.
Spotting a narrow, pitch-black alleyway cutting through the block, Su Jin didn't hesitate and hooked a sharp turn into the shadows.
He hadn't even reached the halfway point before several dark silhouettes flooded the entrance, tailing him.
Su Jin pivoted. Blinding beams from heavy-duty flashlights immediately slashed across his face.
"Kid, you stuck to the crowds all day. But tonight? You picked a real nice grave." Wang Yuntong shoved past his muscle, stepping into the light with a feral, ugly glare.
"President Wang?" Su Jin forced his shoulders to tremble, dialing up the panic in his voice. "What are you doing? I'm warning you, this is a society governed by law. Don't try anything stupid!"
The alley erupted into cruel, mocking laughter.
"You broke sack of shit, you think the law applies to me?" Wang Yuntong sneered, advancing step by heavy step.
"You little brat. I've bled for this underworld for years, and you are the first insect to ever lay hands on my face. You owe me a leg today, or this isn't over."
"Don't touch me! There are cameras in here!" Su Jin blustered, feigning hollow bravado.
"Cameras? There ain't a single camera in this brick shithole. I checked just for you... On your knees!" Wang Yuntong barked. The eight thugs behind him surged forward like a pack of rabid dogs.
Su Jin casually swept his gaze over the brick corners. A cold, sharp smile finally carved its way onto his lips.
"No cameras. Perfect, President Wang... Actually, I had already forgiven you. Why do you have to be so relentless? This whole mess is ancient history... Let's just drop it."
"Ha? Did you boys hear what this retard just said?" Wang Yuntong turned to his goons, mock-shocked.
"Heard him, boss. Said he forgives you. Must have chugged some cheap liquor; his brain is fried."
"Brother Wang, stop wasting breath on this idiot. Let's snap his leg off and go grab some grub."
The surrounding thugs chimed in, tossing out graphic, violent threats at Su Jin.
Wang Yuntong smiled coldly. "Still standing? Bash your skull into the dirt a few times, and I might make the amputation quick."
"I gotta say, you are one petty bastard. You weren't this psychotic when we were talking business. You kept calling me 'little brother.' I thought we got along fine." Su Jin frowned slightly in disappointment.
"Oh-ho, I tossed you a bone and you actually thought you were sitting at the table." Wang Yuntong cocked an eyebrow, leaning his greasy, bloated face closer, radiating arrogance. "You're damn right. I've held grudges since I was a kid! What's that medical term again~"
"Super-masculine, Brother Wang," a lackey chimed in from the back to remind him.
"Right! Super-masculine! I've been drowning in testosterone since day one. How else do you think I clawed my way up to— UGHH!!" Wang Yuntong's boast was cut off halfway by a garbled shriek as his hands violently clamped over his crotch.
Su Jin smoothly retracted his boot and calmly began snapping a pair of latex gloves onto his hands.
The pack of thugs flinched, instinctively retreating a half-step in sheer shock as they swung their flashlights down onto Wang Yuntong.
Su Jin's kick had been a blur.
Wang Yuntong's "hardware" had just suffered a catastrophic, unrecoverable uninstallation.
While the hooligans were still freezing in a panic, Su Jin lashed out again, sinking his boot squarely into Wang Yuntong's gut.
Wang Yuntong crashed heavily into the dirt. A wet, sickening squelch followed as his bowels gave out...
"You think that's a compliment? Stupid mutt!"
Gloves secured, Su Jin flexed his fingers, his cold gaze shifting from the weeping boss to the stunned lackeys. "I just cured his super-masculinity for him. Now it's your turn."
"Fuck! He kicked the shit out of Brother Wang... kill him!!"
The thugs roared, all eight lunging forward at once. In the suffocating dark of the alley, Su Jin moved like a violent gale.
Locking onto the lead thug's knee, Su Jin drove a brutal downward stomp!
With a sickening crack, the joint buckled backward, instantly turning into a literal dog's hind leg.
Before the second thug could even step up, Su Jin's heavy fist connected, completely caving in his nasal bone.
The two men hit the asphalt at almost the exact same second!
The physical gulf between normal humans and his current self was already an abyss. No amount of cold weapons could bridge the gap.
Ducking, pivoting, and executing with surgical lethality, Su Jin tore through the eight small-time thugs. Their legs broken and their jaws dislocated, they were reduced to a pile of whimpering, groveling heaps.
Surveying the groaning carnage littering the ground, Su Jin clicked his tongue. This was annoying.
These bottom-feeders were zero threat, but his muscle memory had betrayed him; he had used far too much force.
If the cops got dragged into this, it would be an administrative nightmare, even without cameras in the alley.
The main streets outside were plastered with CCTV; it would be far too easy for someone to backtrack the footage and dig up his identity.
Realizing this, Su Jin looked down at Wang Yuntong, who was still cradling his destroyed crotch and moaning in the dirt. Su Jin offered a helpless shrug, pulled out his smartphone, and hit record.
....
Half an hour later, a procession of bruised, completely naked thugs with scorched-yellow marks around their mouths dragged their bodies across the pavement, crawling out of the alleyway one after another like a horde of mindless zombies.