Chapter 128
The Fighting Dog, Huh
“Even the mont I draw it, it looks like it could pierce through sothing.”
“I can’t say that wasn’t the intention.”
“Go ahead, try holding it,” Jin Geon urged like a peddler.
As if entranced, Ga-on accepted it and quietly looked down at the sword.
The dark, lustrous blade was as smooth as a mirror.
This was not so mass-produced product stamped out of a factory.
The blade shape was nearly perfect, and the weight distribution was impeccable.
Traces of painstaking polishing could be seen everywhere.
It was a masterpiece touched by the hands of a craftsman who had survived into the 24th century. That alone was enough to justify the sword’s value.
“What’s it made of?”
“I heard it’s based on Hexagondice with shape-mory alloy mixed in.”
“So that’s how it achieves this performance.”
He liked it.
However—
“What about the joints?”
Fine cracks were clearly visible across the flat blade.
There were six in total.
The blade appeared to have been divided into sections so it could fit into the hilt, but those seams would inevitably beco structural weaknesses.
Portability was one thing, but at a critical mont, such flaws could easily lead to disaster.
As though he had expected that concern, Jin Geon nodded and replied.
“I heard they applied a technology related to monomolecular structures.”
“So the mont the sword is drawn, it restores its structure to a complete state?”
The thod could not be used for complex machinery, but if the object was a cold weapon, it should be possible.
“On top of that, it also functions as a monomolecular blade, so it consus a huge amount of power. Still, it won’t be inconvenient to use. At least not unless you plan to keep it active continuously for an entire Solweek.”
Just as Jin Geon had done earlier, Ga-on swung the sword as if flicking it away.
The blade imdiately retracted.
Now only the hilt remained, roughly the size of a forearm.
It was neither too large to hide nor too small to carry openly.
“And there’s one more gimmick hidden in it.”
A gimmick.
The word struck a chord deep within a man’s heart, and before he knew it—
“What is it?”
Ga-on asked, but Jin Geon rely smiled slyly.
“It’s better saved for the fun of discovering it later. I think you’ll be quite satisfied as well, Mr. Ga-on.”
Surely it wasn’t sothing crude like a self-destruct chanism.
The sword’s craftsmanship was far too refined for such a cheap trick.
It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say it was one, perhaps even two generations ahead of its ti.
Even for the Ergency Disaster Response Unit, obtaining sothing like this seed unbelievable.
The doubt was only natural.
“You didn’t overdo it, did you?”
“I received approval from upper managent. They seed to be expecting great things from you, Mr. Ga-on.”
It was an obvious lie.
Wasn’t he the contaminant that had entered the Ergency Disaster Response Unit?
He probably wasn’t the only person designated as an exception, but he knew well enough that he wasn’t exactly welcod.
“What’s the sword called?”
“It’s called Polar Night.”
***
He entered Columbus, passed through Juicy’s place, and had barely sat down at the bar counter before Fernandez welcod him.
“Well, well. Our fighting dog has arrived.”
With a title Ga-on had never expected.
“What kind of nickna is that?”
He asked without even trying to hide his frown.
Ga-on enjoyed giving other people nicknas, but being given one himself was unfamiliar territory.
Moreover, the speaker was Fernandez.
For a cautious man who asured every action, it seed strange to interpret this as an attempt at friendliness.
The word choice was simply too bizarre.
“It’s your newly acquired epithet. Didn’t you clash spectacularly with Johwang? Since he’s such a notorious fellow, word of your exploits against him has gradually begun spreading. You should be pleased. People are finally becoming aware of your existence.”
A fixer’s epithet was usually determined by their deeds.
Or by so particularly distinctive trait.
This was an industry where dozens, even hundreds, ca and went every day.
If soone managed to earn a na of their own in such a place, they had every right to stand tall.
It ant they had taken their first real step into the profession.
Still, it wasn’t sothing he could celebrate unconditionally.
Because—
“It’s a pretty questionable title. Not exactly the sort of thing I’d proudly introduce myself with.”
A fighting dog.
Wasn’t that the sort of nickna reserved for battle-crazed lunatics?
It didn’t suit a thoughtful and gentle person like himself—or so Ga-on argued.
Fernandez simply stared at him as though he were ridiculous.
“Are you really the one who should be saying that? If you think about it, this is entirely your own doing. I never brought it up because your way of handling jobs was so refreshingly straightforward, but you knew perfectly well it wasn’t considered normal.”
It wasn’t as though nothing ca to mind.
In the last assignnt alone, he had dealt with dozens of fixers.
Especially Alonso Duffy and Gustak Dengke.
Neither had beco central figures in the industry, but both were experienced enough to be called veterans.
In other words, they were his seniors.
As such, if you encountered them in the field, the customary and sensible thing to do was greet them politely and back off.
But Ga-on charged right in.
The sa applied to Johwang afterward.
Once it beca clear he was tied to a criminal organization, even if one had suffered losses because of him, the normal response was to exchange a few hostile words and leave it at that.
But Ga-on charged right in.
It was the life of a reckless madman incarnate.
A wolf that ignored the laws of man and followed only the laws of nature.
Which made him—
“A fighting dog.”
Reflecting on his actions anew, Ga-on took a mont for self-examination.
No wonder nobody had approached him first despite all the places he had visited.
“More importantly...”
Trailing off, Fernandez glanced toward Ga-on’s waist.
At the sa ti, a sword hilt dangling there swayed like a keychain.
It was sothing that had piqued his curiosity from the mont Ga-on walked in.
“That’s an unusual accessory. Do people normally hang sothing that large from their belt?”
“I got it recently.”
“A weapon...?”
As a forr Sheriff and current broker, Fernandez was knowledgeable about all kinds of weaponry.
Yet even he could not imdiately identify what Ga-on was carrying.
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