Chapter 100: Against the Current (Part 2)
An arrow that turned into dots and blinked.
It meant there was a Merckred executive in Sector 46.
“Man, this is making me super nervous.”
Philip gulped.
Only two Merckred executives had appeared so far.
He’d heard it took considerable effort to defeat Walter.
Though that was back when Ray’s skills were inferior to now.
And the more recent encounter with someone called Curiosa in the vacant lot—
“Can’t win. Even in optimal conditions, our chances are zero percent.”
“She was terrifying. Black, huge, with eyes that kept changing shape.”
“What do you mean ‘black and huge’?”
“Just trust me, she was black and huge.”
—Clearly an overwhelmingly powerful being.
Reading Philip’s emotions, Ray said:
“No need to worry much. We have the initiative.”
“Oh, right.”
The binding magic on their rings had been altered by Curiosa.
They could detect the executives’ locations, but the reverse didn’t hold true.
This meant they could identify threats first and prepare countermeasures.
“Depending on the situation, we might avoid fighting altogether.”
“We can just pass by? Didn’t Curiosa say we need to defeat executives to make the Doctor appear?”
Veronica asked as she approached carrying Nero.
Philip recoiled upon seeing the cat.
“That smug cat…”
“He’s not a cat. He’s Nero.”
“It’s totally mocking me, right?”
“Is he? Nero?”
As Philip grumbled,
Ray answered while looking back at the path their car had taken:
“I’ve started thinking that might not necessarily be the case.”
Philip and Veronica focused on him.
“What do you mean?”
“Philip, what comes to mind when you think of a boss?”
“Uh… The highest person in an organization? Like a top administrator?”
Ray nodded.
“Exactly. Someone who must respond immediately to all conflicts to keep the organization functioning.”
“……”
“But the Doctor doesn’t seem to operate that way,” Ray continued.
“After Walter died, I stayed in Sector 49 for quite a while. The Doctor never appeared.”
“Hmm…”
“Even after two encounters with Curiosa, there was no sign of the Doctor.”
“Now that you mention it, that makes sense.”
“In fact, the only trace of the Doctor we found was through Madam Renia, who has no connection to Merckred.”
There was more evidence.
The Doctor only appeared every few years to issue orders before vanishing until the next cycle.
He entrusted all management to his executives, seemingly wandering elsewhere to pursue personal goals.
“So Curiosa’s method isn’t guaranteed to work.”
Even if they defeated Merckred’s executives, the Doctor might not appear.
Thus, negotiating for information about the “Rainbow” might be wiser than combat—
unless the target exhibited emotional instability like Walter or Curiosa.
In that case, exploitation became possible.
Their priority was clear.
First, identify which executive was currently stationed in Sector 49.
●
Upon entering the sector, the group immediately sensed something wrong.
“The streets feel unnervingly quiet.”
“Right… Did something happen here?”
The streets were desolate.
Most shops had shutters closed or cloth coverings drawn.
The few pedestrians hurried along as if fleeing something.
The palpable tension made Philip and Veronica instinctively hunch their shoulders.
Thud— Thud—
Their footsteps echoed loudly in the silence.
At first, they thought it was just one street—
but touring the sector revealed the phenomenon was widespread.
……
Ray’s calm eyes scanned the surroundings.
Shattered store windows.
Broken car side mirrors.
Flickering streetlights emitting pained crackles.
The damage exceeded what one would expect from poor outskirts security.
Most notably:
‘No street kids. Not a single one.’
Shoeshiners. Newspaper sellers.
Delivery runners. Matchstick peddlers.
Orphans occupied the lowest stratum of street ecosystems.
They never abandoned their spots—territory meant survival.
Vacating even momentarily invited invasion by rival groups.
Thus, every street maintained minimum personnel based on gang size.
Yet even those were absent today.
“…War.”
“Feels like war.”
Ray and Philip muttered simultaneously.
“Doesn’t seem small-scale.”
“Agreed. For a sector this size to have so many quiet streets…”
The taut atmosphere was familiar to the two boys who’d grown up on these streets.
“…War? You mean those gang wars?”
Veronica asked cautiously.
Having been raised in an orphanage before Graham took her in, she lacked firsthand knowledge of street conflicts.
“Right. Judging by the mood, this isn’t some minor skirmish between nobodies.”
Philip’s assessment drew Ray’s agreement.
Gang wars typically occurred within claimed territories—
yet every street they’d passed thrummed with tension.
‘A war between major factions.’
Naturally, one thought arose.
One participant might be—
「My organization wasn’t small—quite large, actually.」
Niles wasn’t above tall tales—
seven lovers, defeating twenty men barehanded—
though he spoke truthfully when smoking:
「We controlled over three-fourths of this sector at our peak. Had 200+ members easily.」
Exhaling smoke over turbid riverwater, his conflicted face had mirrored Ray’s blank one:
「All in the past now. No attachments left.」
Lie.
Though poor at reading facial emotions, Ray excelled at sensing hearts.
What filled Niles was regret.
……
Ray snapped back to the present.
Niles had drifted down the Elton River to Sector 50 over a year ago.
No guarantee his old organization still existed—
sector politics meant constant rise and fall.
Yet Ray felt certain:
Niles’ crew still thrived powerfully.
‘If anyone could maintain it, it’s Niles.’
They needed intel, but found no street kids—all likely hiding.
‘Need to dig for information directly.’
Pausing, Ray turned to the others:
“We should split up. Philip, Veronica—head to 32nd Street. I’ll scout the opposite side.”
“Got it.”
“Okay.”
The two disappeared down the street.
Not too far, and with Veronica’s magic, risks were minimal.
Thud—
Ray resumed walking.
After orphans, merchants knew the streets best—
but finding open shops proved difficult.
Amid the silence, Ray noticed another anomaly.
‘No lookouts.’
During gang wars, rooftops normally swarmed with sentries.
Yet today’s empty rooftops suggested one side already held overwhelming dominance.
‘The war might end soon.’
Good news for their sector activities.
Then—
Bang!
An unmistakable gunshot tore through the air.
Ray’s head snapped toward the alley beyond the plaza.
─────
The gunshot’s echo mingled with sunlight fracturing through a fountain’s spray.
Ray focused his nerves as he approached the alley.
Faint shouts and footsteps reached his ears.
‘A fight’s happening.’
He moved toward the sounds like one entranced.
—There… Get him…!
—Just… one guy… Don’t let… escape…!
As the garbled shouts coalesced—
Thud!
A man burst from the alley, brushing past Ray.
“There he is! Cut him off!”
“Don’t let him escape! He’s just one guy!”
The pursuing gang rushed past Ray too.
Some made eye contact, but none lingered.
—Catch…! Stop…!
—No more… losses…!
The voices faded.
Ray stood still, staring at the alley mouth.
……
What caught Ray’s attention was the tattoo on the man’s neck—
a flower blooming precariously through slime.
Nisohwa (Mud-Blooming Flower).
The same tattoo Niles bore on his right shoulder.
Unexpected.
If Niles’ organization was involved, they should be dominating—
‘Too spread out to chase.’
Ray glanced around, then launched off a dumpster.
Thud!
Scaling walls via ledges and signs, he reached the rooftop instantly.
Peering over the opposite railing, he saw—
—Chase! Corner him!
—If he escapes, we’re screwed!
The tattooed man and pursuers came into full view.
Ray leapt across rooftops, tailing them.
Then—
—You fuckers! Huff… Huff…
—Huff… He’s… still running…? Even after getting shot…
The tattooed man reached a dead end.
His pursuers halted, catching their breath.
The man whipped out a knife, grinning ferociously.
—Come on then! Step right up, bastards!
Despite his wounds, he radiated fearless energy.
The pursuers hesitated, unnerved.
—Pathetic shits. All bark, no bite?
—Don’t engage. No need to humor him.
—Right. Take him down safely.
Watching closely, Ray noticed:
‘The tattoos… They all have them.’
Internal strife?
Or deceptive imitations?
As he pondered—
Click. Click.
—Let’s see you chatter with a bullet-riddled body.
The tattooed man bit his lip, then spat:
—Fucking brats! Carve this into your skulls till you die—you ruined everything Niles built!
Niles.
Ray dropped from the rooftop without hesitation.
Gun hammers clicked.
Gunfire roared.
