Chapter 34 - Terrorist
A blazing inferno swept through Rumpumpumpum.
This was no ordinary fire.
It was a storm of searing heat, compressed to its very limits, restrained until its texture felt almost solid—only to be unleashed all at once.
The shockwave sent glass windows shattering outward and inward simultaneously.
It must have sounded like a bomb exploding.
The only reason Jin could guess was that he hadn't heard a thing.
Whether it was his eardrums or his cochlea that had given out, all he could hear now was a sharp, piercing ringing—beep.
But that didn't matter.
Even as his vision spun and his body burned with pain, Jin's first instinct was to check the condition of the thing in his arms.
An old speaker.
To be honest, he had no idea why he had grabbed it.
His body had simply moved on its own.
Jin mouthed the words silently.
"Hey, buddy. Are you still singing?"
As if in response, a faint tremor passed through his fingertips.
It reminded him of the gasping breaths of a drowning man revived through CPR.
Jin felt relief.
Then, slowly, he turned his head.
The scene before him was engulfed in flames.
It had been a quiet hour, with only four customers in the place, himself included.
Two of them were dead.
And the one responsible stood amid the flickering fire, arms spread wide, body trembling violently.
Even with part of his skull blown off by a Gravis shot, the bastard was still alive.
Inside his crushed metal cranium, where veins should have been, wires sparked and crackled like a faulty circuit.
A body mechanized to the limits of technological possibility.
But that wasn't the surprising part.
Just as purists take pride in their unmodified flesh, the opposite also exists—those who embrace augmentation without restraint.
What mattered wasn't his steel-plated body.
It was the mana radiating from within.
Uncontrolled, raging heat.
A firestorm rising uncontrollably, consuming everything—even himself.
Then, the terrorist turned his head.
"…!! …! …!! …!"
He shouted something, but Jin still couldn't hear it clearly.
Jin's brow furrowed.
Not because he was frustrated by his deafness.
But because he was simply pissed off.
Like that lunatic screaming over there, he felt his own fury surge.
"You bastard! Do you even know where you are?!"
"This is Rumpumpumpum!"
"Nobody fights here!"
"This place is one of the few in this goddamn city…!"
His own voice didn't even reach his ears.
There was no way it would reach the bastard, who was already writhing and howling on his own.
Fine.
You keep screaming.
I'll do what I need to do.
A violent surge of blue sparked within him.
The backlash of his own emotions.
Crackle!
Before he even realized it, faint violet currents flickered across Jin's body.
Not that he noticed.
He just ran.
He lunged forward, grabbed the terrorist's face with his palm, and slammed it straight into the ground.
The back of the terrorist's head burst open—not with blood, but with spurting lubricant.
Any normal human would be dead on the spot.
But the terrorist, even in that state, gripped Jin's right arm with both hands.
And where they touched, fire erupted.
Without warning, searing flames.
Agonizing, unbearable pain.
And fuck that.
Jin swung his burning arm in a wide arc through the air.
Still gripping the terrorist's skull.
He didn't let go.
His fingers, long since dug deep into the cyborg's metal-plated head, weren't about to let go now.
Whoosh!
The forceful motion sent a gust of wind rippling through the air.
The head, still locked in Jin's grip, crashed down onto the floor once more.
The terrorist's legs shot straight up.
His neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and a mechanical eyeball popped from its socket.
Yet, even then, he didn't stop burning.
Even now, his gaping mouth spewed not pain—but blind, relentless fury.
"Burn. Burn. Hotter. Fiercer. Even if it consumes me in the end."
Jin didn't stop either.
He was just as enraged.
Who the hell was this guy?
Who cared?
A berserker?
So what?
Why was he losing his shit here?
Why Rumpumpumpum of all places?
The moment those wild eyes, which had been calm for the past few days, finally snapped.
Crunch!
Jin tore apart the opponent's hands, which were clutching his right arm, with superhuman strength.
As the detached ankle traced an arc through the air, he caught it mid-fall.
Then, taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders drop—
And immediately, the most violent version of a fire-twirling performance began.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Just like how that green monster had pulverized Thor's arrogant little brother.
The battered body of the Berserker was flung in every direction, scattering debris like shrapnel.
The sheer force of the impact left crater-like imprints on the ground, as if stamping them into existence.
Jin had no intention of stopping.
He slammed down, and slammed down again, and again—
At some point, the terrorist's body shot up like a rocket, crashing into the ceiling with a thunderous boom before plummeting back down.
The reason?
The ankle he had been gripping had torn off mid-swing.
"…"
Jin glanced down at his suddenly lighter right hand, then casually tossed the severed foot over his shoulder.
Using his left hand, he patted down the flames engulfing his arm.
The exposed skin underneath was a mess of burns, but perhaps because of the adrenaline surging through him, the pain wasn't all that unbearable—yet.
Jin strode forward.
Toward the tattered wreck of a terrorist sprawled on the floor.
The thing was no longer recognizable as a person.
Blood and oil trickled from its completely crushed skull, creating a grotesque spectacle.
Its limbs, broken like brittle twigs, splayed in a distorted swastika shape, with jagged bones piercing through joints in a way that made the sight all the more gruesome.
In short, the human had turned into a windmill.
The result of an enraged superhuman's full-swing laundry-beating technique.
Jin planted his foot on what had once been a head and spoke.
"What are you?"
Interrogating someone after beating them to a pulp?
A little too late for that.
Not that he would've gotten a useful answer even if he'd asked beforehand.
"Never mind."
Jin slowly lifted his gaze.
And then—
Crunch!
The flickering, barely functional skull was crushed like an insect.
At the same time, sprinklers in the ceiling activated, sending a cascade of water down.
Whether it was due to the experience points gained, the burns, or just sheer rage—
As the scorching droplets dripped onto his face, he remained still, absorbing the sensation.
Gradually, as his hearing returned, he picked up the sound of hurried footsteps racing up the stairs.
"Jin?!"
"Oh, oh… J-Jin!"
Familiar faces stared at him in shock.
Oh, right.
He had been coming here to see them.
Like the smoke billowing around the room, the heat clouding his mind slowly began to dissipate.
And in the void left behind, pain crept in.
Feeling its approach, he turned to the siblings and opened his mouth.
"Hey."
***
Splash!
Chunks of ice plunged into the water.
Seven bags down already.
And there were still five more to go.
"Ugh, it's freezing. Stop already."
Jin, submerged in a bathtub filled with ice water, leaving only his head above, groaned as Jenny tore open another bag with a knife.
Of course, she ignored him completely.
"Shut up. Do you even know what you look like right now?"
"I-I dunno. Week four of winter training? Or last winter?"
"What the hell are you saying?"
Splash, splash.
Even though the added ice didn't noticeably lower the water temperature, the sensation alone made him groan.
It wasn't the cold—it was the pain.
Specifically, his right arm.
Thanks to third-degree burns that had damaged his nerves, dumping ice on it wasn't going to help much at this point.
Even if Hua Tuo himself had returned to life, he'd probably just shake his head.
'Tsk. Gonna have to cut this off, huh?' he'd say, raising the same axe he never got to use on Cao Cao.
But that would be a complete misdiagnosis.
At least when it came to Jin.
Because if his nerves were damaged—
Then shouldn't he not be feeling pain?
Even now, Jin's body throbbed, burned, stung, and itched like crazy—all signs that it was already working hard to recover.
Irregular, superhuman, vagabond.
The zombie build had proven itself right once again.
Of course, Jin was just in pain.
"...Enough."
Having emptied the last bag, Jenny slumped onto the toilet and turned her head.
"What the hell happened?"
Jin, whose teeth were chattering from the combined agony of pain and cold, answered.
"I don't know. I was waiting for you guys when some terrorist bastard put a gun to a customer's temple. Even dogs don't get disturbed while eating, but that bastard was worse than a dog."
"..."
Jenny fell silent for a moment and turned her face away.
"What's she saying?"
"...It's a disaster. Not just at RumPumPumPum, but a similar incident happened at Junk Plaza's third district. A shooting spree—seventeen dead, five seriously injured."
Jeckie's voice grew closer from outside the restroom until he finally leaned against the doorframe and continued.
"The perpetrator was just an ordinary gang member, but surprisingly, it took quite a while to put him down. If a Solo hadn't been at a nearby restaurant, at least twice as many people would've been killed or injured. But the bigger issue is..."
His voice trailed off, making Jenny narrow her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"The Solo who fought the guy is in critical condition."
"What?"
Jenny asked again, and Jin, still half-submerged in ice water, also turned his head.
"Exactly what I said. He managed to take the guy down, but he got badly hurt in the process. From what I've seen, it doesn't look good—his survival isn't guaranteed."
Everyone's expressions turned complicated.
A Solo—a fighter skilled enough to take on a handful of armed thugs alone.
But that didn't make them invincible.
One mistake could mean death in this world.
So it was hard to say for sure.
Maybe the Solo had just let his guard down.
Jin was thinking that when—
"Here. There's a video of what happened."
Jeckie had slipped into the restroom at some point, holding up a tablet for everyone to see.
The footage began with the ground in view.
Then, anxious breathing.
Was the person hiding while recording?
For a while, the camera remained still, then cautiously tilted up to reveal two people locked in a brutal battle.
Punches thrown, dodges made, distances widened, gunshots fired.
A clash again, gaps sought, counters landed.
Just from watching, it was hard to tell who was the gangster and who was the Solo.
But that lasted only a moment.
The one screaming like a lunatic—
That must be the gang member, Jin figured, nodding to himself.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The unknown Solo finally drove three bullets into the gangster's heart.
As the enemy collapsed, the Solo turned to leave.
"A'aaah-!"
Like a jack-in-the-box, the gangster suddenly sprang up, yanked a dagger from his belt, and plunged it deep into the Solo's nape.
The Solo staggered, clutching his wounded neck.
The gangster collapsed for good.
Panicked cursing and a shaking camera.
The video ended there.
"Hm. He really did let his guard down."
Jin clicked his tongue, and Jenny responded.
"Even so, that gangster was way too... Did he have some kind of ridiculously expensive combat data chip installed?"
"Think it's connected to the RumPumPumPum's terrorist?"
"...No idea. We don't have enough information yet."
Jin frowned slightly.
Now that he thought about it, their first job had been just like this.
Edmond Nielsen?
That guy had also gone berserk after getting his hands on a leaked data chip.
Back then, Po had called it berserk mode, right?
Something about this stank.
So, Jin thought to himself.
Hey.
You there?
Show me something.
Wait—hold on.
Let me brace myself.
...Okay.
I'm counting to three.
Come out right now.
I'm only allowing this once.
...Three, two, one.
The status window remained silent.
Son of a bitch.
Jin ground his teeth—
"Uh, hey..."
Jeckie hesitantly pulled something from his pocket.
"I figured I should grab this, just in case."
Following his voice, Jin and Jenny instinctively turned their gaze—
And both saw it.
A cybernetic eye, dangling limply between Jeckie's thumb and forefinger.