The Genius Decided To Live An Ordinary Life [EN]: Chapter 81

The men continued their conversation with serious expressions, completely ignoring Jinhyuk.

Despite being overlooked, Jinhyuk fought to suppress the anger bubbling inside him. He was used to being ignored, and confirming the facts was his priority.

– “It’s like a double agent tactic, but with a twist. Double agents are messy. A bat just spreads disease to both sides. It’s better to extract the information and then decide whether to eliminate them or let them live….”

The men’s drawn-out conversation continued without end.

It was clear they couldn’t proceed with their plan now that they were exposed. He overheard them discussing how much money they had received and how they would cover their families’ hospital bills. They tried to lower their voices, but there was no way Jinhyuk, with ears as sharp as General Yi [a famous Korean general known for his keen hearing], wouldn’t hear them.

– “Fear and mercy. That’s how you secure absolute loyalty. You can use just one, but using both is the most reliable. If you use only one, there are side effects.”

They probably didn’t intend to kill him, but Hong Gijun had said that if you couldn’t instill fear worse than death, it wasn’t fear at all. Once they escaped that moment, relief and the joy of life would instantly erase the fear.

Hong Gijun also said that if someone was a clear enemy, you had to cut off their breath no matter what.

‘They say one murder saves you from three acts of patience, but that’s a terrible idea.’

Jinhyuk reaffirmed his desire not to become a murderer. Even without Cheon Gilyong’s warning, he wanted to be honorable in front of his family. To do that, he had to subdue these men without killing them, no matter what.

– “Now that it’s all over, we’re dead. That’s the kind of situation where you open up a way for them to live. But first, you have to make them beg for their lives. It’s best not to touch those who stick their necks out and yell to be killed. You have to finish them off.”

Adding Hong Gijun’s words to his ice-cold resolve, his thoughts quickly became clear. It was a good thing. His vague respect for Chairman Hong Gijun took shape, and the wary feeling he had towards Mr. Hong Gijun felt a step closer to understanding.

Anyway.

‘I came here fully prepared, but there’s no tension at all.’

It felt like he was being ostracized again after a long time. Dark memories of the past resurfaced, and something welled up in his chest. The calm anger that had been subsiding rose again. He needed to go eat soon, and Yujin might wake up.

He had realized something he hadn’t known before: when he was hungry, his reason became fragile, and his emotional control entered the realm of irrationality. It meant he was getting pissed off.

It was then that Jinhyuk sighed.

The man at the very back spoke. He was clenching his teeth and only moving his lips, but his gaze was clearly directed at Jinhyuk.

“If a compromise isn’t possible… subdue him.”

The men moved in unison, centering around Jinhyuk.

It was a precisely calculated movement, as if they were trying to take up their designated positions, but it wasn’t enough to make Jinhyuk tense.

Even though the situation was clearly disadvantageous and urgent, Jinhyuk’s attention was elsewhere.

It was the absurd sense of ease he had learned from the men.

‘What on earth is my dad’s real identity?’

He knew his dad didn’t like to talk about it, so he hadn’t asked, but at this point, his curiosity was exceeding his patience. Those land brokers had also disappeared as if they had made a promise when his dad left the house. His mom and Hong Gijun were also keeping quiet.

Now that he thought about it, everyone was whispering among themselves, and no one was on Jinhyuk’s side.

‘I’m starting to feel resentful towards Dad.’

…He’s a really good person, though.

Jinhyuk tilted his chin at the anger that had no clear target.

Since he couldn’t vent his anger on his dad, a suitable substitute had appeared.

“I’ve been watching you guys, and you’re talking about subduing me.”

Saaa-.

The chill emanating from Jinhyuk’s feet as he smirked deepened.

The tension surrounding the men grazed Jinhyuk’s cheek.

They were taking steps to surround him, preparing for when the conversation broke down.

The strides were meticulous, and the gazes behind their sunglasses were sharp enough to cut through souls.

Jinhyuk matched the men’s movements, trying not to give them his back. His body reacted first, so there was no need for calculations.

He numbered the men, starting from the left.

You’re number 1, you’re number 2, and the guy at the back is number 3. And the uncle who looks the youngest is number 4.

“I don’t know how this will sound….”

He muttered to himself.

As soon as Jinhyuk opened his mouth, the men stopped abruptly. As if they wouldn’t miss a single move.

“If you value your lives, you’d better answer my questions.”

It was a sincere warning.

He thought the men might laugh at him or ignore him, thinking it was just bravado, but he was willing to endure their ridicule for the sake of peace.

But the men’s reaction was different from that of a young punk like Yoon Seongdong.

As if they had made a promise, they took off their sunglasses and put them in their jacket pockets. Their expressions were stern, and their eyes were all sharp. It was a reaction that acknowledged that Jinhyuk’s warning was not just bravado.

“Um… are you that gentleman’s younger brother?”

Number 3, who was the only one who hadn’t taken off his sunglasses, asked. He seemed to be the leader. His cautious and businesslike tone showed that he wasn’t underestimating his opponent.

Jinhyuk answered by glaring at him. It wasn’t a pleasant misunderstanding, but he told himself to let them think what they wanted. Either way, that guy had booked himself an aggravated penalty. He had messed up his family tree as he pleased. And no one likes to be called old.

“I should have asked first.”

“Um, we were asked to bring you in.”

Number 3 nodded slightly. He seemed like a reasonable person.

“Who. Why.”

“We don’t need to know. And we don’t have any reason to report to you.”

Number 3 gestured at Jinhyuk with his chin.

Jinhyuk responded in a nonchalant tone.

“Sounds like you’re saying I can make you report.”

The ease of the men who had been whispering just moments ago was gone. It was a natural reaction, as the gentle breeze of the early autumn afternoon had disappeared, and an inexplicable chill was felt. The tension, like a knife blade on their cheeks, made them all brace themselves.

Number 3, Moon Seokil, said quietly.

“I promise. We won’t hurt you.”

His voice was serious and calm, and Jinhyuk’s senses judged it to be true. There was no reason for them to lie, as they believed they were in a favorable position.

But that was it.

“Even if you don’t, is there any guarantee that the person who hired you won’t hurt me?”

Moon Seokil swallowed a groan.

It was something he couldn’t actually answer, and it was because he didn’t know anything. That was how fixers were. Fixers who learned about their client’s identity were often dealt with by other fixers after the job was done. It was better not to know.

And the young man in front of him was right.

He couldn’t guarantee anything.

But.

‘What is that?’

Something like a heat haze was rising from the young man’s body.

It was different from the heat haze that simply distorted the background when body temperature rose. A dark blue aura was overflowing, as if poison was seeping out of his body. Tendrils made of darkness and light flowed and swayed with a will, as if showing off their presence. They surrounded the man, as if protecting him.

Moon Seokil only moved his eyes to check his colleagues’ reactions.

‘This seems like a strange neighborhood, full of weirdos. Is that only visible to me?’

His colleagues’ stances were the same as usual.

Then, was it because of his sunglasses? He pulled his chin in and looked up, like someone with presbyopia, but the strange aura was still there.

Moon Seokil’s observation didn’t last long.

“You might think I’m a joke.”

Jinhyuk, standing naturally, lightly spread his arms, palms facing forward.

It was a posture that could make him look like someone complaining about his situation, but to Moon Seokil, it was strangely bizarre. The final warning of a man in a flawless combat-ready stance was delivered.

“But I promise you. If you touch my family, you will die by my hand.”

It sounded like a sharp tearing sound. The air felt stinging, as if a tightly stretched rubber band had snapped. A suffocating tension surrounded the men.

At his signal, the men began to move again. There was no room for negotiation, so there was no need for conversation.

Not knowing that they had been numbered in his head, the two men on the left and right exchanged glances and approached Jinhyuk to subdue him. Their footwork was smooth as they took their stances, and their posture for using force was impeccable.

Nevertheless, Moon Seokil’s faith in his colleagues had lost its absoluteness. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust his colleagues.

‘No. There’s something wrong with that guy.’

Before Moon Seokil could stop them, his friend’s wrist, who was trying to grab his shoulder, was trapped under the young man’s armpit. Jeong Sangtae, who was known for his fast hands and close-quarters combat skills, had been caught in an instant.

As shock spread across everyone’s faces, Jinhyuk’s face was also filled with shock, but for a different reason.

‘What is this, this slow-motion cat punch?’

*

Moon Seokil was a former operative who had gone through the North Korean infiltration unit of the Intelligence Agency and was specially recruited into the Agency for National Security Planning [a South Korean intelligence agency]. He was a veteran who had completed countless missions, known as a ghost. The story of his infiltration into a place called Black Dragon Castle in Pyongyang was legendary among the agents.

One day, while walking down the streets of Seoul, he felt disillusioned with his life as an operative. To avoid becoming a drifter like his seniors, he retired and became a fixer, which was no different from a errand service, but he was a human weapon who had mastered not only popular martial arts such as judo, taekwondo, and kendo, but also fighting techniques that could kill a person with bare hands. The others who accompanied him were no different, so Moon Seokil couldn’t understand the current situation even more.

Not only did he appear behind them without a sound….

‘What kind of body movement is that….’

Crack-! Snap-!

Jinhyuk’s palm, bent at a right angle, landed squarely on Jeong Sangtae’s jaw. Could that even be considered an attack? It was a blow that seemed to just push softly, without any rigidity.

Jeong Sangtae had already clenched his teeth due to his ingrained fighting skills and instincts, and he clenched them even harder at the moment of impact, but Jeong Sangtae’s jaw made a chilling sound.

Thud-.

Before the back of Jeong Sangtae’s head hit the cement road, Jinhyuk moved his foot to prepare for the next attack.

Thump-. As his friend fell, Moon Seokil also took off his sunglasses.

‘We should have just left….’

A chill seeped into Moon Seokil’s mind in a short time.

He had a face that anyone would guess was that of a young soldier. His broad shoulders and the silhouette revealed by his baggy clothes fluttering in the wind were like that. So was the way he spoke, like a cautious yet confident wild man.

Still, it was a different matter to fight four adult men who were trained in all kinds of practical fighting techniques alone. But that young man was doing it. The expression ‘doing it’ wasn’t enough.

‘He’s too fast.’

He didn’t move much either. He only moved his joints enough to dodge, and the attacks that reached their target were lightly brushed away with his palm.

That wasn’t martial arts.

Was it just the difference between a hummingbird and a butterfly’s wing movements? He was just tapping them out with superior speed. Like dusting them off.

After glancing at Jinhyuk, who had dodged the hands that Kang Heonchang and Kim Inrang had extended at the same time, Moon Seokil glanced at the fallen Jeong Sangtae. His pupils were dilated, and he was foaming at the mouth. It looked dangerous. Even if he didn’t die, he could become an idiot.

‘I should have known when he dragged that wild boar.’

Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face, and regret is always too late, no matter how fast it comes.

With the regret washing over him, he recalled the request.

– “Bring them both. If they resist, you can use force. If they die, it can’t be helped. It’s their fate, isn’t it?”

The eyes that had been blinded by the huge sum of money had finally returned to reality.

It was a cruel reality.