*

The audacious statement made the problem solvers burst into laughter, except for Norman, who did not laugh.

His rare show of goodwill had been trampled on.

“Indeed, in this industry, showing kindness makes you look down upon.

Ignorant fools have short lives.”

Though the opponent was unarmed, Norman did not hesitate to pull out a submachine gun.

It was a masterpiece produced by Seven Metal, the Speeder F33.

By increasing the proportion of magnetic acceleration instead of gunpowder propulsion, it succeeded in miniaturization.

Additionally, its rapid-fire speed was extraordinary, making it easy to turn a person into a chunk of meat.

“Kill.”

Click, the dry metallic sound echoed.

A prelude to a volley of fire.

As numerous gun barrels were pointed, Ga-on protected his head and chest with his forearms and charged.

Even for him, it was impossible to dodge all the bullets in an open field.

His own safety was a secondary concern.

The most important thing was the safety of Doby and Sarah.

Targeting the portable anti-tank weapon from a relatively far distance was for that reason.

Clatter.

He clenched the knuckle he took out from his bosom.

The gunner, who had been momentarily dazed, quickly adjusted his posture at Ga-on’s approach, but that brief gap decided life and death.

Crash.

The sound was so gruesome that it was hard to believe it was flesh hitting flesh.

The nose bridge was crushed to the point of touching the back of the head, so the result was predetermined.

Ga-on kicked the lifeless body and unemotionally extended his fist toward the next opponent.

The shoulder and elbow, which were the axis, had long since disappeared from view.

Only the sound of slicing through the wind hinted at the relentless assault that followed.

Bullets were fired from all directions to stop him, but they were useless.

Once he took a step, he never stopped.

Ga-on had invited the thugs to a deserted place to annihilate them.

In the wasteland, only the logic of power reigned.

It was truly lawless.

In the Seed Colony, such bold and decisive iron-fist sanctions could never be carried out.

Ga-on kicked a man trying to approach the van, sending him flying to the opposite vehicle, and brushed off the dust on his shoulder.

Simultaneously, the bullets embedded nearby were pushed out by the newly grown flesh.

It was then that he snapped out of his trance.

Looking around, the only person standing was the man who introduced himself as Norman.

“Did you sprint away quickly?”

“You…”

Though it was a mocking evaluation, Norman distanced himself rather than getting angry.

When the request first came in, he was negative.

He had learned through experience what it meant to be entangled with a corporation in modern society.

But after hearing Doby’s situation, he changed his mind.

A half-wit who couldn’t even stand up.

Moreover, even Colin, the only support, had turned his back.

There was nothing to hesitate about.

Confident that the social repercussions would be minimal, he took action himself.

Low risk, high return.

Wasn’t that the ideal for a problem solver? But then, out of nowhere, a man appeared and shattered all expectations.

Despite receiving an attack close to instant death, he got up several times.

It seemed like a misfire, but the coat with holes indirectly showed the fierce battle just moments ago.

It was incomprehensible.

Therefore, he had no choice but to abandon his preconceived notions.

“Did you come from another colony?”

“Not from here.”

“That’s why you didn’t know me.”

While answering slyly, Norman didn’t forget to change the magazine of his submachine gun.

From the beginning of the battle until now, the opponent had thoroughly protected his head and chest.

It was clear where his weakness lay.

Aiming the gun at Ga-on’s chest, Norman pulled the trigger without warning.

Ga-on reflexively twisted his waist at the gunfire aimed at his forehead.

But then something unexpected happened.

Suddenly, the bullet deviated from its linear motion and began to trace a gentle curve.

Smart Bullet.

Advanced scientific technology had twisted even absolute propositions.

The moment the twisted trajectory pierced through the temple, Norman was convinced Ga-on was dead.

But contrary to his expectations, just before falling backward, Ga-on quickly approached, raising his upper body with only his waist strength.

His position changed with every blink of an eye.

He seemed to have gained more momentum than before.

Even the mutant experimental subjects he had previously been commissioned to deal with weren’t this tenacious.

“Crazy bastard!”

The slot installed in his head, the Second Brain, calculated the trajectory, replacing the fire control system.

The muzzle, unable to withstand the recoil from the sudden barrage, shook wildly, but the bullet’s trajectory converged into one.

“Predictable.” A killing tool that always hits the target.

It seemed like a powerful weapon at first glance, but in reality, it was the opposite.

If you anticipated the bending angle and dodged, that was it.

Moreover, the smart bullet’s effectiveness was only for a single shot after being fired.

Theoretically, multiple shots were possible, but the kinetic energy lost in the process was enormous.

Thus, the reduced penetration meant the firearm couldn’t fulfill its role.

Sacrificing firepower to increase hit rate was absurd.

Therefore, the distance between the two inevitably closed.

Just before Ga-on, who had approached right in front of him, threw a punch, Norman leaped off the ground.

His two legs were specially prepared to become a problem solver.

The motor skills created by artificial muscles, compressed springs, and pistons had long surpassed those of humans.

Ga-on deflected his right leg, but Norman wasn’t flustered.

It was a feint.

Just before his foot touched the ground, he changed direction and targeted Ga-on’s chin with his left leg.

A perfectly clean spinning kick.

The impact was doubled with the help of the booster.

A blow as powerful as a soaring rocket.

Norman didn’t stop there and continued his fierce attack, using his right leg as a pivot.

This was the true reason he was called a sprinter.

The moment he was sure he had gained the upper hand—

Ping.

A foreboding sound captured his ears.

But by the time he tried to understand, it was already too late.

His two legs had been severed out of nowhere.

Norman, who had fallen pathetically, looked at his lower body.

The smooth cross-section looked as if it had been cut with a blade.

Only then did Norman realize Ga-on’s weapon had changed.

“Two knuckles?”

He thought it was one, but it seemed he had been using two overlapped all along.

Just as he said.

Ga-on’s knuckles weren’t just one.

150,000 Pia.

The weapons he could purchase with the money he had were limited.

Yet he had bought two knuckles solely for one device.

“It’s a towing wire.

Not bad for something improvised, right?”

A thin thread connecting the two knuckles glistened in the light.

Tensile strength of 600kg/㎟.

If conditions allowed, it could even tow an airplane.

Wrapped and squeezed like that, no matter how metallic the prosthetic leg was, it couldn’t withstand it.

Ga-on, who had pulled the towing wire taut, smiled.

“So, how long can our sprinter last?”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

*

Norman, who was quick on his feet, was also quick to spill the beans.

He confessed everything he knew in less than a minute.

Thanks to that, a thorough preliminary investigation could be conducted.

The place where the mastermind resided was the Palmer Tower Palace in District 20.

As only the chosen ones could reside there, all entrances were perfectly controlled.

Checking the citizen ID of the device was a given, and dangerous material detection sensors and metal detectors were in operation simultaneously.

Moreover, contracted security patrolled periodically.

At the civilian level, it was top-notch.

It could be considered an impregnable fortress that outsiders couldn’t approach.

But exceptions exist everywhere.

Ga-on, who infiltrated the premises, wandered around without even glancing at the main entrance.

Pretending to be a resident taking a leisurely stroll, no one found him suspicious.

There was no need to choose a frontal assault.

He just needed to climb to somewhere between the 3rd and 4th floors.

No one would be checking the upper floors.

Several windows were open.

Closing them for security was ideal, but the people living here wouldn’t heed such advice.

As expected, windows opened and closed while he was spying.

Finding a suitable spot, Ga-on quickly threw the towing wire before anyone came.

Clunk, the knuckle at the end hooked onto the window frame in an instant.

After tugging a few times to ensure it was secure, Ga-on climbed up the wire using only the strength of his arms.

Completely bypassing the search, once inside, it was smooth sailing.

He just needed to run like water and board the elevator.

Ga-on’s target was the 42nd floor.

Since they used an entire floor, there would be some personnel on standby in case of an emergency.

Swinging the towing wire like nunchucks, the knuckle at the end emitted a menacing wind.

As the elevator ascended, the power of the spinning knuckle gradually increased.

Ding.

As the cheerful sound rang and the elevator doors opened, Ga-on unleashed the accumulated force without hesitation.

Swish.

The nearest guard was bisected by the towing wire.

A deadly technique that gave no chance for counterattack.

“Ugh.”

The professionals quickly assessed the situation within milliseconds and pointed their guns, but it was a meaningless struggle.

They were merely victims of the spinning towing wire.

However, the last one was different.

The towing wire, which was spinning wildly, stopped as it wrapped around the man’s forearm.

It was clear that the prosthetic arm was heavily armored.

Ga-on pulled it without hesitation.

“What.”

“What are water muscles going to do?”

Kicking the man being helplessly dragged, Ga-on struck his face with the knuckle in his other hand.

He continued until the man went limp.

Even trying to escape was futile.

The towing wire had become a string connecting the two.

Thud.

Pushing aside the man who had become a pulp, Ga-on opened the door and entered.

What he saw was a man with a stubborn mouth, impressive in appearance.

Whether he was middle-aged or elderly, it was hard to tell if he had managed himself for a long time.

It was clear that age had seeped into his features.

“Miyata Ito.”

The vice president of Maximum Noise and an internal collaborator who sided with Allen.

Having investigated beforehand, there was no confusion.

At the sudden uninvited guest, Ito tilted his head.

“Who are you?”

“How could you forget me?”

As Ga-on swung his arm, the knuckle flew past Ito’s temple and embedded itself in the wall.

“Even though you ordered me to be killed.”