Chapter 31

Amon prefers to overwhelm his enemies with his overwhelming specs.

If there’s even a one-in-a-million chance, he doesn’t allow that one either—such is his overwhelming power and firepower.

That was the playstyle Amon preferred.

Because of this, he always prepares an escape route in case his specs aren’t enough.

Conversely, if his specs are sufficient, Amon doesn’t avoid the fights that come his way.

From the third-floor window of a building, Amon looked down at the gang members.

Humans, when on guard, usually only check their surroundings—front, back, left, and right—but rarely think to look up or down.

The gang members chasing Amon were no different.

They were looking around, completely unaware that Amon was watching them from above.

In his mind, Amon mapped out their positions.

Five members.

One swordsman, two gunners, one hacker, and one mage.

As Amon looked down at them, he reminded himself that reality wasn’t a game.

Therefore, the people he was looking down at weren’t NPCs either.

So, he didn’t expect them to react as stupidly as NPCs would.

But even in their chaotic movements, there was a certain pattern.

Amon quietly waited for the right moment.

And when the gang members’ gaze momentarily shifted forward, Amon dropped down behind the mage at the very back.

If killing were allowed, he would have used his weight to slit the mage’s throat, but since killing was forbidden, he instead kicked the mage in the back of the head mid-air.

*Thud!*

With that sound, one was knocked out.

Hearing the noise, the other gang members immediately turned toward Amon, but by then, Amon was already holding the unconscious mage.

“???”

While the gang members were stunned, Amon threw the unconscious mage at the gun-wielding gang member.

Then, he aimed the pistol he borrowed from Cash at the swordsman’s lower body.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

One of the three shots hit the knee.

As the swordsman knelt, Amon stabbed him in the solar plexus without even drawing his sword from its sheath.

Even though it was just the sheath, a wrong stab could still be fatal, but since this was a safe world where swords were carried, it meant he was confident in his skin.

As Amon expected, the swordsman’s eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

After neutralizing the swordsman, Amon drew his sword and crouched forward.

A bullet whizzed past where his head had been.

Amon immediately turned around, firing his pistol wildly while charging at the gunner with his sword held in a reverse grip.

Once he emptied the magazine, he continued running, shielding his face with his arm.

The bullets hit his body but didn’t penetrate his clothes.

Enduring the sharp pain, he closed in on the gunner and stabbed the blade into his foot.

“AAAH!!”

After knocking out the screaming gang member with an elbow to the jaw, Amon looked toward the gang member who had caught the mage.

By the time he had barely managed to set his comrade down, Amon had already dealt with two of them.

And before he could draw his gun again, Amon’s thrown sword pierced his knee.

“ARGH!!”

The gang member collapsed.

Now, only the hacker remained.

Amon shrugged and looked at the hacker.

The hacker was desperately trying something against Amon, but it had no effect.

Of course not.

Amon’s body had no mechanical devices.

As if thinking it was impossible for a pure human body to do such things, the hacker kept trying to hack Amon.

But by the time Amon reached him, the hacker had achieved nothing.

Amon placed a hand on the bald hacker’s shoulder and said,

“Shall we have a little chat?”

All the hacker could do was nod.

*

The conversation with the gang ended well.

The misunderstanding was resolved, as Amon could have killed the gang members but chose not to.

The hacker reported to the boss, and Amon reported to the CEO, setting the stage for further talks.

“I’ll handle the details with that boss over there.”

The CEO said from his creaking wheelchair.

The young man Amon knew from 50 years ago had now become a seasoned businessman.

‘Who would’ve thought that punk would turn out like this?’

Once a gangster who caused his father grief, the son had straightened up after his father’s death and took over the family business.

But the connections from back then still mattered, and this time, they managed to resolve things with the gang.

Broken bones and pierced limbs were no big deal.

This was Amon’s rightful self-defense, and as long as he was alive, it didn’t matter.

After the incident was resolved, the CEO praised Amon endlessly.

“Truly, greatness shows from the start! It’s been 50 years since I’ve seen someone with such a knack for work!”

If Amon had killed the gang members, things would’ve gotten complicated, but thanks to his excellent handling, the situation was contained.

The CEO, who already disliked “kids these days,” saw Amon as the only one with a solid foundation and held him in high regard.

So, he prepared some gifts for Amon.

“What’s this…?”

“Requests. I handpicked them. If you handle these, you’ll reach Silver rank in no time.”

Amon gratefully accepted the CEO’s favor.

The requests handpicked by the CEO were highly significant.

In this world, requests don’t have ranks.

So, what are mercenary ranks?

The Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum ranks are merely credit ratings.

They only indicate how successful a mercenary is at completing requests, not their strength or experience.

Requests are handled by brokers at agencies who assign them to suitable mercenaries.

A system that completely disregards the mercenary’s safety.

It’s the broker’s job to judge if the mercenary can handle the request, and it’s the mercenary’s job to judge if they can survive it.

Ranks are like credit ratings from banks—even a Platinum rank can get themselves killed if they don’t know their place.

‘If you find a good broker, your survival rate skyrockets.’

Usually, when mercenaries die, it’s not just because they’re reckless—it’s often because the broker is malicious or incompetent.

Brokers often withhold crucial information or push mercenaries into danger to boost their own records.

Some even sell out mercenaries for human trafficking.

So, finding a safe and reliable broker is a measure of a mercenary’s skill.

In such an industry, the CEO’s offer was incredibly generous to Amon.

For a broker to “handpick” requests means they’re prioritizing the mercenary’s convenience—a special management declaration.

Moreover, the CEO’s credibility as a broker was solid.

Even in Part 3, while he idolized gangs and caused his father grief, his ability and integrity were undeniable.

So, he would only assign Amon requests that were relatively safe and within his capabilities.

Amon accepted the CEO’s favor without hesitation.

“I’ll strive to become your ace mercenary.”

“Huh. Big dreams. Do you even know who my ace is and think you can catch up to them?”

“Well, as long as it’s not the Mercenary King, I’m confident I can catch up to anyone.”

“Haha! You’re quite the character.”

The CEO laughed heartily and even gave Amon the payment meant for the mercenary who had died in this incident.

Amon took it and left the CEO’s office.

Coming down to the tavern-lobby, Cash, who had been waiting for him, waved happily from a corner seat.

Amon walked over and sat across from her.

“How did it go?”

At her question, Amon smiled and answered as usual.

“This incident was resolved well. I was told to stop running errands and start taking on requests.”

Hearing this, Cash clapped and congratulated him as if it were her own achievement.

Then, as if realizing something, she glanced at Amon.

“Oh, right.”

“What is it?”

“Then who’s going to teach me?”

“You can learn while running errands, right?”

“Alone?”

“Usually, errands are done alone, right?”

“After today, you still say that!?”

Amon almost retorted but held back.

Strictly speaking, today was a special case.

Until now, Amon had never faced any real danger.

In contrast, since this was her first errand, her feelings about it were different.

Because of this, she seemed afraid of running errands.

For her sake, Amon came up with a solution.

“Then come along on the requests I take.”

That way, it would be safe enough.

Hearing Amon’s suggestion, her expression brightened.

“If it’s you, I can feel at ease.”

“In return, treat me to a meal once a week.”

“Once a week? Two days… no, that’s too often. How about every three days?”

“Deal, Cash.”

“Then it’s settled, Amon.”

***

Several months had passed since Amon officially started his mercenary activities.

Thanks to a competent broker, Amon quickly reached Silver rank.

During that time, Amon’s equipment had changed slightly.

Once, Amon wouldn’t even glance at guns, but now he carried a sawed-off shotgun at his waist as a secondary weapon.

Sometimes, a gun was better than a sword.

But the changes in his mercenary life didn’t end there.

“A~”

“You’re here, K.”

As Amon prepared for today’s mission, Cash approached him.

While Amon wiped his oil-stained hands with a napkin, she pulled out a prepared map and explained the plan to him.

This was the change in Amon’s mercenary life.

Originally, he planned to work solo, but somehow, he ended up taking Cash as a companion.

After frequently talking with her during errands while performing equal-rank missions, he had grown attached to her.

As a companion, Cash matched Amon quite well.

Since she had built her foundation on Amon’s tips, it was hard for them not to sync.

The proof was the map now on the table.

Amon, wary of hacking risks, preferred to handle important missions in this analog way.

Learning from this, Cash also always prepared briefings in analog form.

The two meticulously reviewed the mission and immediately got up.

While Amon checked the condition of his blade, Cash inspected her collapsible spear and reattached it to her waist.

Soon, the two waited at the entrance of an alleyway, taking cover.

Three, two, one.

And the moment Amon’s hand signal pointed to zero, the two charged into the alley simultaneously.

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