LRAB Chapter 391: Lawlessness (3)
Chapter 391: Lawlessness (3)
With the safe bus swallowed whole into the pit, the bus itself ended up completely isolated.
Buuuuung!
With a roaring engine noise, the trucks that had arrived on-site moved in and encircled the area like a siege.
Some of the hunters who were “presumed” to belong to Eclipse aimed mana-shot rifles at the bus’s entrance.
Since the safe bus had pitched forward nose-first, the only way out was through the front door.
“Don’t kill the VIPs! If anyone doesn’t listen, make an example and turn that bastard into a cripple!”
“Yes, boss!”
“And one guy got out. Bring me that bastard first!”
At the boss’s shout, the subordinates moved in a flurry.From what he said, it didn’t sound like murder or looting was the goal—at least not right now. They seemed intent on keeping them alive.In cases like this, the usual play was hostage negotiation for ransom.
They’d kidnapped passengers from Jeonghwa Transit’s safe bus, so naturally the negotiating counterpart would be the Jeonghwa Guild.
With the driver, guards, and passengers all taken hostage, the ransom would likely be “whatever they asked.”
The boss had something to rely on.
This wasn’t the first or second time he’d profited from kidnappings and ransom deals like this.
If they killed a Jeonghwa Guild hunter, there’d be no escaping their revenge—they’d chase you to the ends of hell.
But this case was different.
If they tried a hardline crackdown and a passenger died in the process, they couldn’t avoid public backlash.
Even Jeonghwa Guild supporters—welded together by worship—hated decisions that treated individual lives as disposable.
That also aligned with the creed Jeonghwa had projected internally and externally: prevent innocent people from being sacrificed.
Since the kidnappers hadn’t killed hostages yet, the Jeonghwa Guild couldn’t justify a brutal suppression either. That was the advantage the boss was aiming for.
It was a fatal weakness created by Jang Si-hwan, who cared deeply about public image—both his own and the guild’s.
“......How did he get out?”
Still, the boss couldn’t understand how one passenger had made it outside.
As a precaution, they’d also installed a large number of magic stones to generate interference fields in the area.
If that hunter had used teleportation or spatial movement, the interference should have prevented him from escaping.
Yet the hunter had slipped out cleanly. The boss never saw Kang-hoo’s shadow.
Right then—
“Uaaaaagh!”
The subordinates who’d gone after the passenger—Kang-hoo—screamed and vanished from view.
“What the hell?”
They’d dropped straight into the ground.
A large pit had abruptly formed, just like what happened to the safe bus, and the subordinates who couldn’t react in time all fell in.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
Kang-hoo ignited Annihilating Flames in the center of the pit. It became a mass burning.
“Gaaaah! Save me! Aaaagh!”
Before they could even think of an escape route, their bodies were consumed by flame.
They weren’t in a state to concentrate on even the minimum needed to use a skill. Skin and flesh were melting away.
“Fuck.”
The boss spat a curse.
A mage—no question.
Otherwise, there was no way he could suddenly create a massive pit and fill it with fire.
With the flames roaring, the boss couldn’t pinpoint the enemy’s position. And the other guy probably couldn’t either.
“Hold your positions!”
“Yes!”
Leaving men behind to keep the safe bus under watch, the boss headed toward the burning scene.
It wasn’t like multiple people had escaped—just one. And if he was a mage, the boss had confidence in close combat.
He swore to himself: with the axes in both hands, he’d carve an X across the bastard’s neck and decapitate him.
Taang!
Then an unexpected sound rang out.
A gunshot.
Until the pit was engulfed in fire, there hadn’t been a mana-shot rifle in that guy’s hands.
But what the boss heard—clear as day—was a shot.
His body moved before his brain did.
Reflexively, the boss raised an axe. An instinct born of survival.
Puseok!
But that was as far as he got.
The mana round had already left the muzzle—and it erased the boss’s head without leaving a trace.
Even the barrier from the cuirass item wrapping his body was useless. The firepower was absurd.
Kuuung!
As the boss collapsed forward, both hands still clenched the axes tightly.
It was an instant death that happened before he even recognized he’d died.
“.......”
Kang-hoo then revealed himself beside the flames, holding a mana-shot rifle.
His dagger remained tucked at his waist.
He resolved the situation without even needing his main weapon.
And with his death, the boss neatly “donated” two constellations before crossing the river of no return.“Pathetic.”
Kang-hoo clicked his tongue.
From the boss’s perspective, he might not have imagined a mana-shot snipe out of nowhere.
But there was no such thing as “absolute” in this world. Exceptions always existed—and carelessness was fatal.
He’d stolen two constellations, but something more urgent was happening near the bus.
“Fuck! Th-the-the boss is dead!”
“What?”
“The boss is dead, you idiot! That guy who got out must be insanely strong!”
“What even happened—aaagh!”
Even if you belonged to a criminal organization, it didn’t mean you were incapable of fear.
If anything, because they were buried in extreme selfishness, they were more serious than anyone about keeping their own life intact.
The moment they realized the boss was dead, the subordinates panicked and started running.
No one told them to—they each chose different directions.
That way, even if Kang-hoo chased them, the odds were higher that only one would die instead of many.
It was their own “clever trick” for survival.
But one idiot didn’t run—he started pouring oil onto the bus in the pit.
Swaeaek!
“Ghk!”
It didn’t end well.
Kang-hoo closed the distance in an instant and slit his throat cleanly.
Since he wasn’t even contracted to a constellation, Kang-hoo didn’t bother looking at what came after his breath stopped.
“There was signal jamming, too.”
Scanning around, he spotted a signal jammer the fugitives had left behind.
Judging by the small size, it targeted smartphones—probably meant to prevent the passengers from calling for outside rescue.
Between the trap prepared to sink the ground, and the signal jammer— and the way they’d drawn the scenario so the bus would stop exactly where they wanted...
This didn’t feel like a spontaneous kidnapping. It felt planned from the start.
It was definitely Eclipse.
Which meant, rather than the impulsive Kang Dong-hyeon, this was likely Kang Tae-yang’s meticulous operation.
After the merger, even Eclipse’s top rank had shifted to Kang Tae-yang, so the sequence made sense.
He postponed checking the newly stolen constellations. Rescue came first.
Kang-hoo began pulling out the passengers, driver, and guard hunters.
For an asphalt road, the hole was shockingly deep.
Seeing smoke rising from parts of it, it looked like they’d used some low-yield explosives as well.
If murder had been the goal, the outcome might’ve been different.
Though given the safe bus’s heavy reinforcement, there probably wouldn’t have been a full-on explosion death— but they could’ve been seriously injured by the blast. Either way, it was a heart-stopping situation.
Fallen Wings—and then Divine Descent Leap while holding one person tightly.
Using those two methods, Kang-hoo extracted the trapped hunters.
Then the rescued hunters helped pull out the next ones, and the work continued.
Aside from a few with minor scrapes, everyone was in good shape.
Still, lifting the safe bus that had slammed into the bottom would likely require heavy equipment.
“Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“We were way too careless. We were about to get taken hostage for real... thanks to you... we’re safe.”
The rescued hunters hurried over to Kang-hoo one after another to thank him—real gratitude.
And it made sense: they’d assumed it was nothing, and they got caught.
A familiar picture: someone messes with Jeonghwa Transit’s safe bus, then tucks tail and flees.
Because they were used to that outcome, nobody worried. It was classic safety complacency.
Outside the jammer’s range, the driver ran up to Kang-hoo and added—
“They say a follow-up vehicle will arrive as fast as possible. There’ll be plenty of seats.”
“That’s a relief. Everyone can transfer and continue.”
“We also contacted the Jeonghwa Guild, and they asked that you come to the Jeonghwa Building as soon as you reach Seoul.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Out of nowhere? You helped the guild’s affiliated transit company in a major way, didn’t you? I think they want to express their thanks properly.”
“Hm.”
A quick thank-you over the phone would’ve been enough, but asking him to come all the way to the building—
As if afraid he’d missed something, the driver hurriedly added—
“Ah! They said they’ll pick you up from the Seoul Station bus terminal. An executive will already be waiting.”
“...Understood.”
It felt like overkill, but it wasn’t an offer he needed to refuse.
As long as he made the flight time to meet Ayane, the rest didn’t matter. And he’d already slept.
Today reminded him again:
He might have felt safe living in places isolated from the city and outside influence— but that was an illusion. The world had never changed, not even once.
Even stepping slightly outside the relatively stable outskirts of Daejeon, this kind of mess could happen.
Any place people could reach—any place footsteps could touch—could become dangerous at any time.
He swore never to forget it.
Lawlessness.
A clear keyword that ran straight through this damned setting.
Law was nothing more than a powerless cry written on a scrap of paper. That’s what Kang-hoo believed.After that, the trip to Seoul went smoothly.
With a Jeonghwa Transit escort vehicle attached, the sense of security was at its peak.
Upon arriving in Seoul, Kang-hoo immediately took a car provided by the Jeonghwa Guild and headed to the Jeonghwa Building.
The executive who personally looked after him was Jo Seok-hyeon, ranked 24th.
In Jeonghwa Guild, ranking below 20 was basically meaningless anyway, so who came wasn’t the important part.
“Jeonghwa Guild, we always support you and love you! Don’t leave Seoul—stay with us forever!”
“Jang Si-hwan! God bless you.”
“Let’s drive out every last satanic swarm threatening Seoul! Trample the demons and purge them!”
“Maggots will swarm in Satan’s mouth, nose, and ears!”
As always, the area around the Jeonghwa Building was packed with fans and supporters.
Even if the scale differed, executives in the top 20-ish range had their own individual fandoms.
Choi Sa-ra in particular had an overwhelmingly large male fanbase.
Kang-hoo also spotted a few people shouting in a completely soulless, mechanical way.
They were probably hired. If you paid, you could find plenty who’d protest all day.
Then—
“...?”
As Kang-hoo stepped into the lobby, he caught a familiar face.
And so— he didn’t hesitate or linger his gaze even for a moment. They both knew he shouldn’t.
Still.
As they brushed past each other, they didn’t forget the silent communion that felt like time itself stretched into eternity.
Han Seo-yeon.
She was here.