TL/ED: Hamsterminator

The old man also looked at Jin.

His strawberry nose, the result of chronic drinking, twitched.

“...Hmm?”

His deeply wrinkled eyes narrowed.

One second, two seconds... three seconds.

Only after the full three seconds did his drowsy eyelids slowly lift.

“Huh?”

Pointing at Jin with the tip of his bottle, he opened his mouth.

“Who... are you?”

“...What?”

Jin’s expression twisted as if he had stepped on dog shit.

So this is what they mean when they say the one who gets hit remembers, but the one who hits doesn’t.

That, that, that blank expression. Wow, shit.

Jin grabbed the back of his neck.

“Old man, do you remember causing a traffic accident a while back?”

“Hmm.”

“You hit someone riding a motorcycle on the highway. With a truck.”

“Ahh-?”

With that infuriating grunt, a vein bulged on Jin’s forehead.

Only then did the old man stare straight at Jin.

“......You’re that guy?”

“There you go. You drink so much you can’t even remember people’s faces. Didn’t I tell you before bed to repeat ‘I’m a murderer’ three times? Are you doing that? You’re not, are you? I can tell just by your face. I knew it. They say you can’t fix people. Tsk. Old sayings never miss.”

Jin’s words sprayed out like a machine gun.

The old man, hit by the barrage, said nothing.

Fenrir withdrew the hand he had placed on the hilt of his sword and scratched his cheek,

And the others glanced at each other with slightly awkward expressions.

Thus, only Jin stood tall and confident.

He looked at the half-drunk old man and thought.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a hit-and-run.

He did forgive him after taking an apology and some pocket money.

Still, not recognizing his face felt pretty damn offensive.

Was it because he was drunk?

As Jin continued his inner Q&A, his brows slowly furrowed.

It wasn’t that a fresh wave of anger at the old man was rising. It was just that a strangely familiar and unfamiliar title suddenly came to mind.

Wait a second, wasn’t he called Colonel...?

At that moment, with a pop! the old man opened a new bottle and took a swig.

As his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, the level of liquor inside the tilted bottle noticeably dropped.

He downed the whole bottle in an instant, wiped his wet lips, and spoke.

“So, did your mana circuit recover?”

Jin didn’t answer.

Instead, he recalled a conversation he once had with the old man.

‘Your whole body’s a wreck. You won’t live out your life at this rate.’

‘You mocking me? This is all your fault... Forget it. Let’s never meet again. Okay?’

Back then, Jin had thought the guy was speaking way too casually for someone who’d hit him with a truck. But maybe that wasn’t the case after all.

Only now did Jin realize that this alcoholic wasn’t just some random nobody.

And at the same time, his previously dead-off intuition radar began spinning again.

A colonel of a third faction, neither Resistance nor TB?

Wait a second.

Jin looked at the old man with suspicious eyes.

“Old man, were you with the city government?”

To which a response laced with laughter came back.

“Why? Is that not allowed?”

---

Special Forces Colonel of the City Government, John Harrison.

That was the old man’s true identity.

Jin was shocked.

Because he thought he was just a drunk, but he turned out to be someone important?

No.

Jin was kind of immune to those kinds of twists by now.

Thanks to a good old preemptive dose named Lokan.

Ta-da! Turns out he was a big deal all along, he could brush off that kind of twist easily.

So the real reason Jin was shocked was something else entirely.

In his 40s?!

That face?!

“...You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I have time to joke about stuff like this? Colonel is in his 40s, seriously. So stop calling him ‘old man’ like he’s ancient... He might not mind, but us? It’s kinda awkward.”

The man let out a deep sigh.

The one who had guided the group this far.

His name was Q, if Jin remembered correctly.

Figures he’s from the Special Forces, he only goes by an initial.

The irony being that the colonel had revealed his full name.

Well, anyway.

“......Alcoholism is seriously terrifying.”

To think alcohol alone could make someone look that prematurely aged. As Jin muttered with a serious expression.

Q gave a slight chin gesture toward somewhere.

“Follow me. I’ll take you to your comrades.”

With those words, he took the lead, and Jin and Fenrir followed after him.

“The Colonel kept it brief, but let me formally introduce myself. I go by Q.”

“I’m Jin.” “Fenrir.”

After the short exchange of names, the three of them descended the stairs leading to the building’s basement.

Sensing their presence, a sensor above them flicked on the lights.

And Q naturally began to speak.

“You must have a lot of questions. Feel free to ask if you have any.”

At that, Fenrir jumped in as if he’d been waiting.

“Why did the city government dispatch Special Forces to Mute Town? Up until now, haven’t you consistently ignored the 40s districts?”

“Sorry, but your assumption is off. The city government never dispatched us here. We came on our own.”

“...On your own? For what reason?”

In response to the follow-up question, Q turned his head.

And answered with a calm expression.

“To chase the Face Collector.”

Then, returning his head to its original position, he resumed walking. Jin watched him carefully.

Is this... a moment I’m supposed to be surprised?

It kinda feels like it.

“Face Collector!”

Not even knowing what that was, Jin just pretended to be shocked for now.

He nudged Fenrir in the ribs with his elbow, a silent gesture saying “You finish this part” and Fenrir, frowning, continued.

“The Face Collector... wasn’t he a high-risk criminal who was active over a decade ago? I heard he died a long time ago.”

“If that were true, we woul⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌dn’t be hanging around here.”

Jin tilted his head.

Something seemed off as he listened quietly.

“...Wait a second? Then the reason you’re stationed in Mute Town isn’t to end the civil war, but because there’s someone you’re chasing?”

“Correct.”

“Then why the hell did you rescue us? You’ve got nothing to do with this.”

A valid question.

But Q soon shook his head.

“It’s not unrelated. On a macro level, the Resistance shouldn’t be allowed to collapse like this. I wasn’t the only one who saved you. Even now, my comrades are rushing all over the city trying to rescue scattered Resistance members.”

As he said that, he opened the door to the basement.

Inside was a brightly lit, spacious area.

Rooms with different purposes were neatly lined up on either side of a grid-shaped corridor.

And in one of them, Albus was lying down.

Beep- beep-

Wearing a ventilator, with several blood packs hooked up to him.

The monitor next to his head was displaying an irregular ECG waveform.

“He’s passed the critical stage, so just wait and see.”

Watching the scene through the glass wall, Q turned his head.

“To go back to your question, the reason we’re paying attention to the Resistance is simple. We’ve found signs that the Face Collector is backing TB. To approach him, maintaining a balance of power between TB and the Resistance became more crucial than ever.”

He let out a faint sigh.

To Jin, it sounded like the sigh of someone worn out from being undercover.

“So we’ve been providing support behind the scenes all this time, keeping it discreet. But then the Resistance suddenly pushed through with a reckless operation.”

“A reckless operation?”

“Ask them about that.”

Following Q’s gaze, Jin and Fenrir turned their heads.

Standing there, side by side, were Ossia and Den, looking their way.

Behind them, Q’s voice continued.

“I know you’re Solos. I also know you’ve handled jobs for the Resistance in the past. I don’t know what got into you to crawl back into this mess, but just know this, we’re already in the same boat. So once you’re done talking, come back upstairs. I’ll let you know what your job is.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

And naturally, Jin and Fenrir, left standing in place, slowly turned their eyes toward each other.

“Let’s start by figuring out what the hell is going on.”

“Goddamn it... yeah.”

---

In one corner of the basement was a small resting area.

Though calling it a resting area was a stretch, it only had a ㄷ-shaped sofa and a shelf reminiscent of a utility room.

Still, it was enough for everyone to sit around, so the group leaned their tired bodies against the sofa and looked at one another.

The first to speak was the bearded one, Den.

“Thanks. You saved our lives.”

He had been too flustered to notice before, but now that he saw him again under the light, Den looked at least ten years older.

And the same went for Ossia. She roughly brushed aside her messy bangs and muttered sharply.

“The city government, huh. Just how long have they been watching us?”

With that grumble of resentment, silence returned once again.

While everyone was trying to sort through their tangled thoughts, Jin suddenly flinched at s⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌omething he noticed.

(Complete!)

As the quest cleared, a wave of experience hit him like a hammer of dopamine inside his head.

In that moment, he felt a bit of his accumulated fatigue melt away, and the experience points he’d steadily earned quietly declared they were ready to light up a new star.

But Jin opened his eyes.

Right now, sorting things out came first.

“What operation went wrong that things turned out like this?”

At that, Ossia’s expression visibly soured.

Just recalling it seemed enough to upset her stomach.

Still, she swallowed her anger and slowly moved her lips.

And this was the story that followed.

Watching TB expand its influence day by day, the Resistance had come to the conclusion that they couldn’t let the civil war drag on like this.

So in haste, they devised a plan, to form a strike team solely for the purpose of taking on Taha.

Naturally, their core forces were deployed.

Oren Palmer.

A Level 5 Solo, a psychic from the superhuman class, who had ripped through TB’s forces with his powerful force field.

That same man took combat enhancers and went head-to-head with Taha.

And had his skull crushed.

Over the shattered flesh, a lion roared, and that day, the Resistance’s base fell.

So ab⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌surdly eas⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌ily.

“It was that big of a difference?”

“That’s what I’m saying! And it’s not like this was their first fight. Oren and Taha have clashed three times over the past two years. Sure, Oren was slightly behind overall, but the gap was never something he couldn’t close. We didn’t act without reason!”

At Ossia’s impassioned words, Den added his own comment.

“No one was more eager for this fight than Oren. He was totally confident that as long as he took combat enhancers, he’d win for sure.”

Jin didn’t know, but the combat enhancer was a kind of doping agent that expanded a psychic’s brainwaves, temporarily boosting their abilities at the cost of lifespan.

Even if he didn’t know the exact details, the term itself painted a clear enough picture.

So Jin thought to himself.

They were evenly matched, but Oren took enhancers, and yet still got his head crushed?

Then there are only two possible answers.

1. The opponent was faking weakness all along.

2. The opponent also suddenly got stronger.

It was then.

“How long had it been since the last time they fought?”

Fenrir, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke. Ossia thought for a moment, then replied.

“Five..., no. About six months.”

“Half a year.”

Fenrir tapped the hilt of his sword as he continued.

“I cut Taha’s throat. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to cause serious bleeding. But he was fine, in fact, it healed in an instant.”

He then looked at Jin and said with certainty, even though beastkin had much higher recovery rates than normal humans, neck wounds didn’t heal in mere seconds.

“Looks like that agent was telling the truth.”

“You mean the Face Collector?”

That criminal the city government’s Special Forces were chasing.

The one suspected to be the mastermind behind TB.

If that bastard did something to Taha.

Something smells off.

An ominous scent, one thing leading to another.

But Jin didn’t dwell too deeply on it.

From the moment he entered Mute Town to save Albus, he had been ready to accept whatever came his way.

Why?

Because this was a decision he made entirely on his own.

Once you’re past thirty, you take responsibility for your own actions. Damn right.

The fact that his goals happened to align with the Status Window was just coincidence.

That’s why Jin didn’t bother overthinking it.

So what if the situation was taking a strange turn? As long as he could find the best answer within it and keep moving, that was enough.

Yeah, this is t⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌he Vagabond way.

He chuckled without realizing and slowly added,

“First, let’s go see this John Harrison guy. Might as well hear what he has to say.”