“What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know the full story, but lately there’ve been rumors about some weird guy wandering around here. That’s probably why almost no volunteers are coming anymore.”

A weird guy, huh…

This area already has no streetlights or CCTV—getting around feels sketchy enough. If security’s bad on top of that, no wonder people stay away.

“You’ve never seen him yourself?”

“Not yet. But the kids say they’ve spotted him a few times.”

“The kids?”

“School kids pick up on rumors fast. I only heard about it because they told me.”

Apparently there’s someone who just stands there staring up at the sky forever, or staggers around like they’re drunk—even in the middle of the day.

Luckily he hasn’t talked to anyone or threatened them. But who knows how long that’ll last.

Everyone’s faces turned serious. Especially Bada and the manager—their expressions hardened right away.

“Do you know anything about this?”

“…Well…”

From their reactions, they clearly knew something. But neither seemed ready to say it first.

“For now, let’s call the district office and ask for more CCTV and streetlights around here.”

“I’ll also ask the police to step up patrols during school commute times.”

“Yeah, please do that.”

Bada offered a plan too, but she didn’t say a word about the actual cause.

…What’s really going on?

Staring at the sky or stumbling around drunk in daylight. That’s typical for someone whose life got swallowed by alcohol.

But if it was just that, it wouldn’t turn into neighborhood rumors like this.

People’s instincts are sharper than you’d think. If the guy just looked like a regular drunk, they wouldn’t call him “weird.”

As I thought about the cause, a documentary I’d watched recently popped into my head—about Kensington Avenue in Philadelphia. Thousands of drug addicts out on the streets, all acting strange when they’re high.

…Drugs?

On Kensington’s streets, addicts under the influence do bizarre things. Staring blankly at the sky, spinning around lampposts—like zombies. That’s why they call it Zombieland.

Korea isn’t exactly a safe zone either.

I’d researched police work before for a story. Korea used to be considered pretty clean from drugs, but that’s changing fast.

Drug-related cases have been popping up steadily for years. Over 20,000 arrests a year, and the real number’s probably ten times higher.

The main spot drugs get passed around is…

Clubs.

Loud, chaotic, people drinking naturally—it’s easy to get someone hooked without them realizing, and deals are simple.

And Kang Taeyang runs clubs.

Drugs. Clubs. Bada’s reaction. Putting those together, it looks like Kang Taeyang’s involved in dealing somehow.

Or maybe the whole Daehan Group.

Otherwise Bada and the security chief wouldn’t react like this. They definitely know something.

“Director-nim, can you take Yena for a bit?”

“Sure… I got her.”

Maybe she sensed my mood shift, but the director took Yena from Bada and headed inside. The manager quietly stepped away too.

“This is about your little brother, right?”

“…Ha-neul-ssi, you really only notice things in the strangest places. Well… it’s not confirmed yet. But lately there’ve been weird rumors going around.”

“Rumors?”

“Yeah. They say a famous overseas ‘drug designer’ snuck into the country.”

Drug designer.

People who tweak drugs to make the high stronger while changing the formula so it doesn’t show up on tests.

The synthetic stuff they make is dirt cheap—under 10,000 won a hit. Even homeless people or broke students can get it pretty easily.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. My oppa hates drugs. He’s cracking down hard on anything in his clubs.”

“But now a new drug’s showing up.”

“Yeah. Their influence spread really fast. Even the police are having trouble moving.”

I couldn’t fully trust what Bada said. Logically, the person running the club would have the easiest time distributing.

Maybe she doesn’t know the real side of Kang Taeyang hiding behind the “family” label. Still—I really hope she’s telling the truth.

Either way, this isn’t something I can fix.

I’m just a normal guy.

I don’t have the luxury to worry about problems in another world. No reason to play hero over random stuff.

But when it threatens people close to me? That’s different. Drug designer, addict, whatever—if they cross my line, they’re gone.

I should look into it when I have time.

For the kids’ safety, I need to find the source of the rumors. Handling it myself might be impossible, but I could at least package it nicely for someone else to deal with.

“Don’t worry too much. My little brother’s working hard to fix it. And while the orphanage is being remodeled, lots of people will be coming and going.”

“Thanks, Bada-ssi.”

“It’s the least I can do. My time’s expensive, you know.”

I gave a small smile at her joke.

* * *

‘Found him.’

A few days after visiting the orphanage with Bada.

I kept patrolling the area because I was worried about the kids. Finally spotted the rumored “weird guy.”

He looked cleaner than expected—a young man.

Younger than I thought.

Black beanie pulled low.

Gray hoodie under a padded vest.

Ripped jeans.

When you picture a drug addict, you think 30s–40s. So seeing someone way younger made me frown.

They say even high schoolers are using now…

Heard most deals happen through social media. Hurts more seeing someone who looks my age.

I watched from a distance. He kept banging his head against a telephone pole like a woodpecker. No way he looked normal.

Where’s he getting the drugs?

He hadn’t been around for days, so probably has some hideout nearby. Clothes were too neat for a straight-up drifter.

In that condition he couldn’t wander far. And delivery drugs? Unlikely. Most likely getting it locally.

Whether he uses or not isn’t my business.

But if he runs out of money and can’t score, he might go crazy and start robbing people. Kids would be easy targets.

Worst case—they get exposed to drugs. Better to cut the source early.

Police won’t act first.

Catching a lone addict doesn’t give much credit, and punishment’s usually light anyway. Risk is high for them.

Addicts have zero fear. If they mess with the wrong distributor, their family could pay.

Without solid proof, everyone just looks the other way. Best I can do is wrap them up nicely and hand them over.

…Hm?

How long had I been waiting?

About an hour later, a guy with a low cap walked up to the addict. I instantly knew—he was the dealer.

Sure enough, no talking. Dealer pulled a black envelope from his inside pocket. Addict handed over a wad of cash.

Transaction took under five seconds. Dealer walked off immediately.

Should I tail him slowly…!?

Just as I started moving—

I felt someone behind me. I spun fast.

At the same time I blocked the hand reaching for me and threw a punch toward their jaw.

“…You’ve got quick hands.”

“Chief?”

The security chief blocked my punch and gave a wry smile. Clearly didn’t expect the counter. He bowed awkwardly.

“Sorry for startling you. It looked like you were about to do something dangerous, so I had to step in.”

“That guy…?”

“Don’t worry about him.”

He nodded slightly toward the side.

I followed his gaze—saw the dealer already grabbed by a group of big guys. Not the same security team I knew.

“They’re from Kang Taeyang’s side.”

“I see.”

So at least the guy spreading drugs around here isn’t Kang Taeyang. Doesn’t mean he’s clean, though.

Could be cleaning up competition.

New drug shows up → old players get nervous → they try to wipe out the newcomer.

Can’t know what kind of person Kang Taeyang really is without meeting him. While I was thinking, someone approached.

“Kim Ha-neul-ssi?”

“Is the boss looking for me?”

“…”

His eyebrow twitched. More curious than annoyed. He glanced at the chief, then bowed to me.

“I’ll escort you.”

I can’t avoid meeting Kang Bada’s family forever. Better to meet them one by one when I get the chance.

“Let’s go.”

After finishing my thoughts, I followed him without resistance.