NTN 43

Chapter 43 The Con Artist

Seong Geon-woo raised his left hand and, using the targeting system’s crosshairs, fired a grenade in a specific direction.

Jeong Beop, who had just turned that way, had no way to avoid it.

His eyes flared crimson as the metal joints in his ankles and knees twisted in directions no human body could move. Forcing another abrupt change in direction, he leapt high into the air.

KWA-BOOM!

The grenade exploded, and a pillar of red fire erupted.

But the blast came a heartbeat too late—it couldn’t engulf Jeong Beop.

Just as Geon-woo regretted missing his chance, another grenade shot out from a nearby tree.

Its target was Jeong Beop, who was now suspended midair with no propulsion left.

When Jeong Beop turned instinctively toward the source, he saw Jang Mok-hwa, hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a gray camouflage uniform, holding a grenade launcher.

Instead of escaping with the jeep, she had hidden up in a tree.

Realizing he couldn’t dodge a grenade in his current state, Jeong Beop opened several metal covers on his back and legs, revealing deep, fist-sized black nozzles.

Chhhhk!

White gas burst from each opening, letting him drift sideways in midair.

KA-KWANG!

The grenade exploded nearby, the shockwave knocking Jeong Beop slightly off balance.

Seong Geon-woo didn’t know how his team leader had suddenly appeared here—but now wasn’t the time to ask. Determined not to waste the chance, he raised his right hand, aimed the exosuit’s electromagnetic weapon using the targeting system, and took aim at the off-balance Jeong Beop.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, both he and Baek Sae-byeok saw several phantom figures appear, bloated bellies scraping the dirt as they devoured the ground like starving beasts.

A wave of hunger crashed over them.

The Hungry Ghost Realm—Agwido.

While moving sideways through the air, Jeong Beop had closed the distance to within twenty meters of the exosuit.

Baek Sae-byeok hurriedly pulled compressed biscuits and energy bars from her pocket.

But as she reached out, she lost her grip on the exosuit and fell to the ground, the power pack detaching. Even as she fell, she ripped open the packaging and shoved the food into her mouth.

Seong Geon-woo’s reaction, however, was different.

Wearing a metal helmet that left his jaw uncovered, he opened his mouth wide—revealing a lump of chewed, saliva-soaked biscuit inside.

He had been holding that biscuit in his mouth, gnawing on it constantly to stave off hunger.

It meant he didn’t have to scramble for food now.

Before getting out of the jeep, he’d anticipated this—thinking they might go a long time without eating, he’d stuffed the biscuit in his mouth and never swallowed it. Even if he fell under Agwido’s influence, saving even one or two seconds could make the difference.

Now, grinning twistedly, he chewed and swallowed furiously, then pulled the trigger.

Zzzzzt!

A burst of silver-white current flared as a bullet wrapped in electromagnetic arcs shot forward—covering the twenty meters in an instant and striking Jeong Beop squarely in the chest.

A dull thud and a sharp crack rang out almost simultaneously. A clear, fist-sized dent formed in Jeong Beop’s torso.

The warped metal plating split open, revealing circuits and components beneath.

Cracks spread across his body like spiderwebs.

The kinetic energy from the electromagnetic round pushed him back, his body jerking like a kite with a severed string.

Then, from her perch, Jang Mok-hwa set down the grenade launcher, drew back her left arm, and hurled a single metal rod wreathed in silver lightning.

BOOM!

The thunder-dragon-like rod struck the dent in Jeong Beop’s chest dead center, driving him from midair straight into the ground.

Streams of arcing electricity burst like metallic petals, spreading along the circuits inside his body.

His movements froze instantly. The crimson light in his eyes faded, turning to stone-gray.

And with that, the oppressive aura of Agwido vanished.

Seong Geon-woo, confirming the situation, turned quickly and aimed his weapon at Jeong Beop’s head.

But before he could pull the trigger, Jeong Beop’s eyes flared red once more.

He jerked upright, metallic frame crackling, and without even pulling out the rod impaled in his chest, bolted away into the distance.

He zigzagged several times, never looking back.

Jang Mok-hwa, already holding her launcher again, shouted in frustration:

“That bastard—he really did have an emergency response system and spare structural parts!”

Geon-woo wanted to reply, but his throat was jammed with crumbs of the compressed biscuit—he couldn’t speak.

Baek Sae-byeok, who hadn’t shoved her whole bar into her mouth, swallowed quickly and asked in his stead,

“Should we go after him?”

Jang Mok-hwa shook her head, eyes on the spot where Jeong Beop had vanished.

“Too late. And that tin monk’s focused solely on running now—he’ll be much faster than our exosuit.”

Then she jumped down from the tree and approached them, her tone gentler.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s already critically damaged.
His emergency systems can only handle basic functions now. If he had any more advanced modules, they’d have been incompatible.
Until he repairs himself, he won’t be chasing us. His weapons and surveillance systems should be offline too.”

Baek Sae-byeok exhaled in relief.

“Then we’ll have plenty of time to widen the gap.”

Now that he had swallowed the last of the biscuit, Seong Geon-woo asked hoarsely,

“Team leader… how did you get here?
Weren’t we supposed to meet at Weiru Station? And what about the jeep?”

Jang Mok-hwa chuckled.

“That plan was a ruse—to trick you two.
How else could I have fooled Jeong Beop?”

“…”

Seong Geon-woo and Baek Sae-byeok were both speechless.

Jang Mok-hwa steadied the launcher on her shoulder, scanning the area.

“The moment that tin monk in the steel plant detected a female voice echoing from the main gate, I suspected his surveillance system was far more advanced than we thought.
Later events only confirmed it.

Jeong Beop didn’t want a prolonged hide-and-seek war—he’d go for a decisive engagement. If we had plenty of spare batteries, he’d be the one at a disadvantage.
And remember—during his first attack, why did he target the passenger seat, not the driver’s? How did he know I was the team leader, the most dangerous one, when he supposedly knew nothing about us?

Sae-byeok and I had already discussed what to do if he ambushed the driver’s seat—I’d fire the launcher, and she’d duck, letting the round fly over her and hit Jeong Beop outside. But we never got the chance to use that plan.

So I deliberately got you two talking and suggested meeting at Weiru Station—to see if he’d react to that bait. Whether or not he overheard our words, he would eventually deduce that our real goal was to hold him off long enough for the jeep to escape his pursuit radius.

After that, I had Yeohong keep driving, changing direction several times, while I hid in a tree nearby. I told her to stop after about ten minutes and wait for us.”

As Mok-hwa explained, realization dawned on both Geon-woo and Sae-byeok.

The clues had been there—they just hadn’t thought them through.

Mok-hwa glanced at Geon-woo.

“I was right, wasn’t I?
You already suspected something was off. When I silently signaled you to hold the biscuit in your mouth to resist Agwido, you caught on pretty fast.

Didn’t it strike you as strange that someone as loud as me suddenly gave silent instructions during such a critical moment? You could’ve guessed the earlier conversation wasn’t entirely sincere.”

Geon-woo replied immediately, without hesitation.

“I thought you stayed silent because you were worried that if you gave verbal orders, Jeong Beop’s telepathy would pick them up. We didn’t know the exact range of his ability.
Gestures require interpretation—so even if he could read my surface thoughts, he wouldn’t easily understand their meaning.”

“Wow… that’s some complicated reasoning,” Mok-hwa muttered.

Baek Sae-byeok nodded in agreement.

“I thought the same, team leader. Even if we hadn’t heard of telepathic eavesdropping before, it’s not something you can rule out. My understanding of Awakened abilities isn’t as deep as that of the major factions.”

“So yours was even more complicated than his,” Mok-hwa chuckled.

Then, with a hint of pride:

“Guess my acting really was perfect, huh?”

Geon-woo immediately countered:

“It’s not that we trusted the plan—we just couldn’t imagine you’d deceive us, team leader.”

Sae-byeok nodded firmly.

Smiling faintly, Mok-hwa looked around once more.

“That’s why we do field training—to learn to read each other better through real experience.
Anyway, just remember one thing: whatever I decide, I’ll never put you two in harm’s way.

Let’s move. We need to regroup with Yeohong.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Now understanding the situation completely, Geon-woo and Sae-byeok realized they’d learned a valuable lesson.

Mok-hwa looked one last time toward the direction Jeong Beop had fled and sighed.

“Shame, though. If we’d wrecked that tin monk’s body completely, we could’ve retrieved his bionic chip. That tech’s invaluable—it could help the company overcome countless barriers.
Besides, the Monk Order has partial knowledge of the Old World’s fall. The Immortals Project was one of the key pre-collapse experiments. Inheriting that legacy isn’t easy.”

Before Geon-woo could comment, she shook her head.

“Heh, just wishful thinking.
Even if we had destroyed him, taking that chip would’ve been suicide. The consciousness of an Awakened being embedded in a bionic chip—that’s not something you touch and live.”

She turned toward Geon-woo.