Those who entered gangs because they could throw a punch in the back alleys were often individuals who struggled with self-control. Most lived by their impulses, swinging their fists whenever their emotions flared. They were like dogs far removed from any semblance of training. Such dogs might make a show of listening to their masters, but the moment something happened, they would revert to their instincts and cause chaos.
The men gathered here today were no different.
One could not expect patience from those who habitually resorted to violence at the slightest slight. Moreover, everyone present had been implanted with a tool. Their natural ferocity was now amplified several times over.
The reason for their gathering was a turf war. Conflict was inevitable between those trying to protect their territory and those trying to seize it. However, what would normally have ended as a mere scuffle had long since escalated into a bloodbath.
Unable to restrain their aggression, they swung their fists without hesitation. What should have been an exchange of insults had transformed into a collision of lethal intent.
The real problem lay in the fact that they were using tools.
“Aaah!”
Passersby screamed as the fight erupted in the heart of the entertainment district. Anyone would react the same way upon seeing a car tossed into the air by sheer physical strength. Cars were crushed and set ablaze. With a single punch, men were sent flying into walls, shattering the glass doors of establishments.
This was impossible. Human beings weren't supposed to fight like this.
But the witnesses remembered the nightmare from not long ago—the havoc wreaked by a being who possessed inhuman strength despite appearing human. The ruin caused by a man who couldn't be neutralized even by gunfire was etched into their memories with traumatic clarity. Seeing that nightmare recreated through a brawl involving dozens of men, their screams were only natural.
Anyone with sense began to run. They knew that if they were caught in the crossfire, the only things waiting for them were death or permanent disability.
The police did not arrive.
Calls had been made, but the moment the fight began, it became a disaster that ordinary humans couldn't even dream of intervening in. Even for the police, approaching this scene would be no easy feat.
Yet, one man approached the chaos with eerie calm. Some in the crowd warned the hooded figure that it was dangerous. But the man simply offered a slight smile, said he was fine, and kept walking toward the center of the fray.
Some cursed at his recklessness; others watched in fascination as he walked in with such confidence. Soon, however, they would realize that they were witnessing a legend in the making. They would never forget the miracle he was about to perform.
Going into the heart of violence is inherently dangerous; one doesn't need to be told that. Those fighting with intent to kill rarely care about their surroundings. Because of this, flying cars and crumbling roads were of no concern to the combatants. Anyone caught in this would be in mortal peril.
But for Jihyeon, this was an exception.
Jihyeon walked between the gang members without any interference. They looked like beasts, flailing at one another. Because every single one of them possessed incredible endurance, they were absorbing each other's blows and staying upright. It was an interesting sight. If left alone, they would likely repeat this cycle until their stamina was utterly depleted.
Jihyeon had no intention of letting that happen. Even if they were the dregs of society, he didn't want to watch them kill each other in such a manner. Instead, wanting them to be punished by the proper law, Jihyeon decided to release a fraction of his power.
Electric Shock.
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There was no better way to neutralize a large group in a single flash. If he could incapacitate them with minimal force, even the police would have to acknowledge his utility. Not that he needed their validation, but for the sake of tomorrow's peace, these rampaging thugs had to be stopped now.
"Sleep well," Jihyeon whispered.
In that instant, a perfectly calculated burst of electrical energy was released. There were no continuous bolts of lightning like in the movies—only a brief, blinding flash that forced everyone to shut their eyes for a second.
But that was enough.
The sight of dozens of men collapsing simultaneously was a spectacle in itself. Without any dramatic flair, the situation ended by delivering exactly enough shock to knock them unconscious. The rest could be left to the police.
However, Jihyeon didn't vanish immediately. Instead, he concentrated for a brief moment.
"Phew... I can just collect them all now."
As long as it was something he had handled before, Jihyeon could now easily extract low-grade tools. The tools these men possessed were all the same—basic models that increased strength and endurance. They were the lowest tier, yet effective enough that no ordinary person could stand against them. If they were arrested with these tools still inside them, they would likely find a way to break out or cause more trouble later.
Jihyeon decided to take care of it beforehand.
"First, let's gather them up..."
The tool that granted psychokinetic power was incredibly useful at times like this. He swiftly rearranged the fallen men into a position that made his work easier. Then, it was just a matter of cleanup. Simply walking past them was enough. Jihyeon gathered the tools extracted from their bodies into a plastic bag he had prepared.
All that remained was to leave.
Jihyeon’s form began to grow faint. In the blink of an eye, he vanished completely from the sight of the onlookers. The murmuring crowd would remember this as a miracle. Jihyeon was satisfied with having written another chapter of his legend. Without leaving a single trace, he departed from the scene.
Processing a large number of criminals caught in the act wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for the police. It might be better if it were the result of a long, calculated investigation, but rounding up a swarm of thugs after a massive brawl was purely a headache.
Seok-young was among those feeling the strain. He had been about to head home when this exploded. When a man needs rest, he should get it, so his frustration was only natural.
But at the same time, he realized the magnitude of Jihyeon’s power.
Every man brought in had been neutralized by Jihyeon. These were criminals who had been driven into a frenzy by tools, using their power to try and kill one another. According to the field reports, the scene didn't look like a typical gang fight. From the crushed cars to the sheer level of destruction, it was beyond human strength.
If the police had tried to suppress them, it would have been impossible. Some witnesses even claimed that, like the infamous Cheol-min, these men weren't deterred by bullets.
And Jihyeon had neutralized them all. Alone. Against dozens.
The thought sent shivers down Seok-young's spine. The men brought in were surprisingly docile—perhaps a side effect of losing the tools that amplified their aggression, or maybe the psychological shock of being taken down so effortlessly had broken their spirits.
They wouldn't have seen Jihyeon’s face, of course. He had used his unknown abilities to subdue them from the shadows. The details would have to come from the investigation, but first, Seok-young needed a cup of coffee. He was going to be dealing with these thugs for hours; he needed a breather.
That was when he heard it.
“Quite a lot of them, right?”
Seok-young jumped at the sudden voice. He hadn't expected to hear that familiar voice right next to him at the station.
“W-where did you come from?” Seok-young asked, his voice unusually startled.
Jihyeon offered a small smile, pulled a coffee from the vending machine, and handed it to Seok-young.
“No one tried to stop me. You know they couldn't even if they tried, so don't worry about it.”
Jihyeon then pulled something from his coat—a memory card.
“I could have sent it by email, but the file size is a bit large. This should be helpful.”
Seok-young took the memory card with a dazed expression.
“Did you... did you actually write up a report?”
Seok-young asked a stupid question. He looked utterly bewildered. Under normal circumstances, there wouldn't have been enough time to compile such data.
“Yes.”
But Jihyeon was an existence beyond common sense. Claiming it wasn't that difficult, he handed Seok-young one more thing—a plastic bag containing something heavy.
“No way...” Seok-young gasped, looking at the size of the bag. He could only guess one thing.
“Yes, it’s exactly what you think.”
Jihyeon turned to leave, having delivered everything he intended to.
“Incredible. Simply incredible.”
If Jihyeon wasn't joking, what he had just done was a feat beyond belief. Neutralizing dozens of men, extracting every single tool from their bodies, and providing all the necessary intelligence at once—was this even a story that belonged in reality?
But Seok-young decided to accept this new reality. If a man could manipulate information at will, there was nothing strange about him doing anything else.
“So, tell your superiors to make sure my paycheck is worth it,” Jihyeon said over his shoulder as he walked away.
Looking at his retreating back, Seok-young could only offer a bitter, admiring smile.

