Convict Unit: Black Parade-Chapter 133 : Mission 10: The Hunters of Old (6)

Thirty years ago.
The skies of Seoul were red. Flames and smoke choked the air, blotting out the sun and plunging the day into darkness.
Ghost stared blankly at the sky.
She lowered her gaze to the colossal red dragon lying at her feet.
Deyana Ludens.
The strongest and vilest of the demon dragons, and the first “Demon Lord” humanity had ever faced.
The beast had crashed through several of Gangnam’s skyscrapers and was now barely breathing. A hazy steam rose from between its shredded crimson scales.
Ghost slowly raised her sword to finish it.
“Impressive, for a mere mortal…”
The dragon’s bright yellow eyes glared at her. For some reason, it looked as if it were smiling.
“Impressive indeed, sword-wielder…”
“…”
“One day, you could become like us—“
She swung down, having no need to hear the rest.
Gushing black blood, the great and vile dragon’s head rolled across the asphalt. The light slowly faded from its wide-open eyes.
With a sigh, Ghost casually flicked the blood from her blade.
The king of monsters was dead. The vanguard of the army it led had been repelled.
The Gate War, which had dragged on for a year, was finally over.
“Did you get him, Ghost?”
Her comrades began to approach, one by one, picking their way over the rubble of a collapsed building. They were all covered in blood from the fierce battle.
“…Yeah.”
Ghost turned to the companions who had saved the world alongside her and nodded.
“Deyana Ludens is dead.” Seeing their dazed expressions, she added with certainty, “The war is over.”
She thought they might erupt in cheers, but they didn’t.
With vacant looks, they simply collapsed to the ground, their strength gone.
Despite having saved the world from the brink of annihilation, what they all felt was not joy…but emptiness.
Ghost turned silently to survey her surroundings.
The once-bustling heart of Seoul was utterly devastated. Not a single building remained intact.
And it wasn’t just Seoul; the entire world was in the same state.
The war was over, but all that remained for humanity was death and ruin.
The thought of how to even begin rebuilding this broken world was dizzying, exhausting. That must have been why everyone’s legs had given out.
“Alright, alright! Stop with the long faces on such a momentous day! Over here, everyone!”
Just then, a blond young man—the Archmage, Ryu Yeon—pulled a camera from his coat and shouted with forced cheer.
“Let’s take a picture!”
Everyone turned to look at him, their eyes wide with surprise.
Ryu Yeon grinned. “This is the moment we defeated the Demon Lord and claimed victory, heroes of humanity! Shouldn’t we commemorate it?”
“You and your damn need for the spotlight…”
Grumbling, a man in armor, Iron Knight Shin-woo, was the first to get to his feet.
“Fine! Hey, everyone gather ’round! It’s for a memento!”
Urged on by the two, the other three awkwardly shuffled together.
The Archmage.
The Iron Knight.
The Spirit Lord.
The Savior.
And Ghost.
The young Hunters who would one day be known as the Five Heroes, their wounds hastily bandaged, gathered with the Demon Lord’s corpse as their backdrop and posed for a picture with Ryu Yeon’s cracked camera.
“Okay, I’m taking it! Timer is… ten seconds!”
After setting the timer on the tripod, Ryu Yeon scrambled over to join them. The five Hunters stood side by side, striking awkward poses.
“You guys…”
Sensing their discomfort, Shin-woo slung his broad arms around their shoulders.
“This photo will go down in history! At least
try
to look like you like each other!”
They all looked at one another and smiled sheepishly, huddling closer.
Ryu Yeon beamed. “Okay! Everyone say… cheeeese!”
“What do you mean, ‘cheese’? This is Korea, you punk! Say ‘kimchi’!”
“Then how about ‘kimchi cheese fried rice’!”
“Ah, I could really go for that! Let’s go get some after this!”
“Where are you going to find kimchi and cheese in these ruins?”
As they chattered away, the tension seemed to melt, and they all began to laugh.
It was then that the small woman standing next to Ghost, the Savior Seong-ah Yu, hesitantly reached out and gently took her hand.
Seong-ah still had the look of a young girl.
“…Sis.” Her small fingers intertwined with Ghost’s, warm.
Ghost’s eyes met hers.
The Savior smiled shyly. “Smile!”
“…”
Faced with that dazzling smile, Ghost tried to relax her stern expression.
But the camera flash went off before she could.
Click!
…And so, thirty years passed.
***
Above Seoul. Inside a transport aircraft.
Ghost sat leaning against the wall of the ascending transport, staring blankly at a faded photograph.
In the washed-out picture, five young men and women were smiling. All except for Ghost, who remained expressionless.
Her thumb gently swept across the photo, tracing the face of each of her comrades.
After lingering for a long moment on Seong-ah’s face, her thumb moved to the side.
In the center of the group stood a man in armor, his arms around everyone, smiling.
Iron Knight, Shin-woo.
How…
Ghost’s weary eyes squeezed shut.
How did it come to this, Iron Knight?
Just then, a voice broke in.
“Wow, that’s a really old picture.”
Jae-hee had appeared beside her at some point, peering at the photo.
“Oh, it’s
that
photo, isn’t it? The one that symbolizes the end of the Gate War.”
“…”
“Seeing the real thing is different from how it looked on that big screen earlier. Huuuh.”
Ghost turned to look at Jae-hee, feeling a strange sense of surprise.
She’d felt it before… but the boy’s round eyes somehow reminded her of Seong-ah.
They don’t look much alike, so why do they feel so similar…?
“Huh?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Ghost slowly slipped the photo into an old notebook and put it back in her pocket.
Then, she began to speak, her voice flat and detached.
“For that year during the Gate War, the five of us were like family.”
Jae-hee listened quietly to her soft-spoken story.
“Fighting shoulder to shoulder in that hell, we couldn’t help but grow close… Iron Knight, he was like a big brother to all of us.”
“…”
“He was a man who took responsibility.”
As she reminisced, Ghost’s voice held a rare warmth.
“He always took the blame for any defeat, for every ally lost. He’d say it was his duty as the leader… but when it came to victory and glory, he’d step back and share it with everyone.”
“…”
“It was impossible not to respect him. I respected him then, and I respect him now.”
Jae-hee asked cautiously, “Will you… be able to fight Uncle Iron Knight?”
Ghost nodded. “If the man I respected most has fallen, then I have to be the one to cut him down.”
“…”
“That’s why I’m here. Not only because I’m the only one who can beat him in a straight fight, but because I’m also the only one who can give him an honorable end.”
A small, bitter smile touched her lips as she recited a line that had been tucked into her notebook.
“‘You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain’…”
Muttering the famous line from an old movie, Ghost slowly rose to her feet.
“The old sayings are never wrong.”
Standing straight, she faced Jae-hee and began, “Kid.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t die.” With an emphatic nod, she advised, “If it comes down to it, just surrender. Shin-woo is a man of compassion. He won’t go out of his way to kill someone he knows.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jae-hee said, “You too, Master.”
“Hm?”
“You don’t have to push yourself.”
“…”
“You don’t have to… carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.”
He was saying she didn’t have to be the one to fight Shin-woo.
And maybe, by extension, she didn’t have to do any of the rest of it, either.
A wry smile crossed Ghost’s face. She slowly reached out and placed a hand on top of Jae-hee’s head.
It took him a beat to realize she was patting his hair.
Ghost let out a faint sigh, her white eyelashes casting long shadows over her blue eyes.
“I’m just paying for my sins.”
***
Razor and Jail Mojik were holding each other in a tight embrace.
The rest of the Deck 2 team—especially Vice-Deck Leader Powerbomb—rolled their eyes at the couple’s shameless display of affection.
But the two were oblivious, paying them no mind.
“Our insertion routes are on opposite sides… but if things get rough, let’s meet up and fight together, okay?”
“Okay.”
Razor nuzzled his cheek against Jail Mojik’s broad chest. With a soft laugh, she pulled something out and wrapped it around his neck.
“Here, take this.”
“Huh?”
“My callsign stands for ‘Wool,’ after all. It’d be weird if I didn’t knit my boyfriend a scarf or something.”
It was a red scarf, knitted from thick, fluffy yarn.
Startled by its warmth, Razor mumbled, “I didn’t get you anything…”
“You can get me something next time.”
Jail Mojik’s voice was steady, as if her safe return was a foregone conclusion.
After a brief hesitation, Razor pressed his fingernails together, quickly forming a small bone dagger.
“Take this, at least.”
“What’s this?”
“A good luck charm.”
Placing the bone dagger in her hand, Razor nodded and said, “If some bastard gives you shit, stick this in his eye.”
“You think I’d do that? This was made from my baby’s bones. I’ll treasure it.”
Razor and Jail Mojik hugged each other tightly once more.
“See you after the mission.”
“Yeah. Let’s just hold each other for days.”
Watching the inseparable couple, Powerbomb just shook his head.
***
In the area where Team Shakespeare of Deck 4 was checking their gear, Romeo, Juliet, and two new members equipped themselves with various guns and daggers.
The Deck Leader, Shylock, gestured with his chin toward his new apprentice sitting before him.
“You’ve memorized the code of conduct for this mission, just as I instructed?”
Shylock had laid out a specific set of rules for Status Window to follow, tailored to the mission’s parameters—a sealed, fortress-like area; a duration of up to three days; and the caliber of the enemy.
The disciple in crime consulting, Status Window, nodded and replied, “Memorized it by heart desu.”
“Good. Just remembering that should be enough to keep you alive.”
Shylock grinned. “But little piggy… do you know the number one rule a crime consultant must remember?”
“…?”
“That no job ever goes according to plan.”
Shylock tapped his temple beneath his fedora with a wrinkled hand. “Even a code of conduct etched into your brain has to be adapted on the fly.”
“…”
“I’ll be watching to see how you do. Try to survive, piggy boy.”
“You try to survive too desu, old man.”
Status Window stood and jerked his thick chin.
“Honestly, I’m still not sure if the stuff you’ve taught me is useful desu. I’ll try it out this time and decide if I’m gonna keep taking your lessons desu.”
“The nerve of this kid.” Shylock snorted and waved his hand dismissively.
Without a backward glance, Status Window left and returned to where the Deck 1 team members were gathered.
Jae-hee and Razor arrived at the same time. Status Window scanned his roommates’ faces and frowned.
“Doesn’t everyone having their own little relationship event right before the final battle feel like a giant death flag desu?”
“I don’t know what kinda nerdy bullcrap that is, but don’t say ominous things…”
As Razor grumbled, Jae-hee asked, “Who are the other members of our Deck 1 team?”
“About time you asked. Over there.” Razor pointed to a corner where a hairy inmate was crouched on the floor.
Jae-hee’s face lit up. “Rabid Dog sis!”
Rabid Dog let out a low growl.
Still, maybe because they’d seen each other a few times, she no longer barked or threatened him. It was a huge step forward in their relationship.
As a gesture of goodwill, Jae-hee held out his hand for a handshake.
Rabid Dog interpreted it as something else and simply placed her paw on top of his hand.
Well, that’s not what I meant… but I guess it works?
Whatever the case, he’d gained some affinity with her. Jae-hee nodded in satisfaction.
Rabid Dog snorted and looked away.
“And, our last member is…”
Before Razor could finish, a slurred voice rang out.
“Heeeyyy~”
Whump!
Someone latched onto Jae-hee’s back from behind.
“Hiii~?”
“Whoa?!”
A startled Jae-hee turned to find a young woman with a unique appearance clinging to him.
Long black hair cascaded down, but the sides and back of her head were buzzed short. Her ears, lips, and outstretched tongue were covered in piercings.
Colorful tattoos were visible through her threadbare prison uniform, covering nearly every inch of skin below her neck.
“So you’re thaaat faaamous Boy, huuuh?”
She slurred, pressing herself even tighter against his back before sticking out her long tongue and licking his neck.
“Mmm~ You smell as good as they say~ A drink of this and a lick of you would make a pretty good chaser. Hic.”
“Aaaah! What the hell, who is this person?!” Jae-hee freaked out.
Razor, looking equally taken aback, made the introduction. “That’s Callsign ‘Soju Bottle.’ She’s A-Rank, was famous back on the outside…”
Razor clicked his tongue and pointed at her hand.
True to her callsign, Soju Bottle was clutching a green liquor bottle.
“But as you can see, she’s a chronic alcoholic.”
“Kyahaha! How’re ya supposed to survive this crazy world without booze~!”
Soju Bottle tipped the green bottle back, draining its contents. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap.
“Zzzzz… phooo…”
Completely wasted, she began scratching her stomach. On either side of her white navel, an artistic tattoo snaked along the line of her ribs.
Staring at the pathetic state of their fifth member, who was now drooling in her sleep, Jae-hee let out a hollow laugh.
“Looks like this mission’s gonna be the usual disaster…”