Max_Striker
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Chapter 74: Ddakji Hustle in Hongdae
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 06:38:44 +0000 UTCThe fresh Seoul night air hit Jay like a wall of possibility as he stepped out of Incheon International Airport. The sprawling city stretched before him in all directions, a neon-lit city and cutting-edge technology living in perfect harmony. After three weeks of Japan's serene temples and hot springs, Korea's energy felt like plugging into a live wire.
Getting the Muramasa blade through customs had been a nightmare involving forged documentation, strategic bribes, and claiming it was a "ceremonial family heirloom" for a martial arts exhibition. But Korean bureaucracy, like most bureaucracies, could be navigated with the right combination of paperwork and money.
But business came before pleasure.
Jay pulled out his phone and found a quiet corner near the taxi stands. Time to test his newest acquisition—Tomoe's Technoforming. Blue circuitry patterns extended from his fingertips like living veins, flowing across his phone's surface and disappearing beneath the case. The sensation was unlike anything he'd experienced—not just accessing the device, but becoming one with it.
Thanks to Sage's supercomputer-like mental faculty, processing Seoul's entire citizen registry took less than three minutes. Phone records, social media profiles, credit histories, even CCTV facial recognition data from the past month—it all flowed through his consciousness like a digital river.
Two names stood out like neon signs: Chance and Kim Il Sung.
Jay had flagged them months ago during his initial search for all power manipulators in Marvel with the help of his Comic Book Nerd Perk, the first week he'd landed in this world. Even though they were rare, it was coincidental for South Korea to have two of them.
Chance possessed the ability to randomly enhance or inhibit the abilities of other mutants, while Kim Il Sung had a more dangerous scrambling effect that could permanently damage a person's powers.
As the most powerful and well-known power manipulator, Jay couldn't allow potential threats like these to remain in other hands with the chance of others using them against him in the future. The best defense was adding their abilities to his own growing arsenal.
Now, in Seoul's fresh night air, Jay hacked into both targets' phones simultaneously. Chance was in Hongdae, working her usual gig as a club promoter. Kim Il Sung was across town in Gangnam.
He decided to approach Chance first—she was closer and easier to approach.
The taxi ride to Hongdae gave Jay his first real taste of Seoul's liveliness. Traffic flowed in patterns that seemed more orderly than New York's aggressive free-for-all. Neon signs in Hangul and English advertised everything from fried chicken to cosmetic surgery. Street vendors sold hotteok and bungeoppang to late-night wanderers, filling the air with scents of sugar and sesame oil.
Hongdae was Seoul's party heart—hundreds of trendy restaurants, unique bars, and booming clubs crammed into a neighborhood that never slept. Club Aura stood out among them, its massive EDM lineups drawing crowds every weekend. But Jay wasn't here for the music.
He found Chance exactly where her GPS said she'd be, standing outside AURA in her usual boyish getup—oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, and beat-up sneakers that had seen better days. She was passing out flyers to anyone who'd take them, switching effortlessly between English and Korean depending on her targets.
"Yo, check out AURA tonight!" she called to a group of college-aged guys walking past, her English carrying that distinctive Korean-American accent—consonants a bit harder, vowels slightly flattened from years of code-switching. "Best party in Hongdae, I promise you!"
When they kept walking, she switched to Korean for the next group: "ya yeogi jinjja jaemiss-eo! Come on, just look!"
Jay approached casually, hands in his pockets. When Chance offered him a flyer with her practiced smile, he didn't take it.
"Not really my scene," he said conversationally.
"Aw, come on!" Her English slipped back in automatically, the way bilingual kids do when they sense a fellow English speaker. "You American? I can tell by your... accent." She gestured vaguely at his clothes, his posture. "Trust me, Korean clubs hit different than back home."
"I'm sure they do." Jay stepped slightly closer, lowering his voice. "But I'm actually looking for someone specific. Chance Park."
The flyer in her hand crumpled slightly. Her smile stayed put, but her eyes went sharp, scanning the crowd. "Sorry, man. Don't know anybody by that name."
"Born in Seoul, moved to America at fourteen with your parents," Jay continued quietly, only for Chance to hear. "Ended up with the Glorification Church in New York for three years before immigration caught up with your family. Deported back here two years ago."
The practiced smile finally cracked. "Who the fuck are you?" The profanity slipped out in English, rough around the edges like someone who'd learned to curse on American streets.
Jay laughed, genuinely amused. "You know what? It's actually refreshing meeting someone who doesn't recognize me." He pulled a small stack of ddakji from his pocket—traditional paper tiles used in children's games. "How about we play for it?"
Chance's eyes flicked to the ddakji, recognition flickering across her face. Every Korean kid knew the game. "Play for what?"
"Simple stakes. I win, you hear me out for five minutes. You win..." Jay pulled out a thick bundle of 10,000 won notes. "This is yours, no questions asked."
She looked around frantically, as if searching for hidden cameras. "Dude, is this some kind of viral prank? Are you a YouTuber?"
"No cameras. Just ddakji chigi between strangers." Jay's expression remained patient, non-threatening. "Unless you're too rusty? I heard Korean-Americans tend to forget the old games."
That got her. Pride flashed across her face that came from having your cultural identity questioned. "a, ssibal... Fine. One game."
"One game," Jay agreed.
Chance took the folded paper tile, testing its weight. Her technique was solid—years of childhood muscle memory guiding her movements as she took aim at Jay's tile on the ground. The first throw was perfect, flipping his ddakji with a satisfying snap.
Jay handed over the money without complaint. "Not bad. How about best of three? Double or nothing?"
The cash in her hands was more than she made in a week of club promotion. She looked at it, then back at Jay. "You're crazy if you think I'm giving this back."
"Keep what you won fair and square. This is for the next round."
Greed and confidence made the decision for her. "You're on."
This time, Jay's enhanced reflexes took over. His tiles landed with surgical precision, flipping hers twice in a row despite her increasingly desperate throws.
"Motherf-," Chance muttered in English, then caught herself. "I mean... a, jinjja. You hustled me."
"I gave you exactly what I promised—a chance to win money. Fair game’s fair game." Jay pocketed the ddakji. "Now you hear me out."
They found a quiet bench away from AURA's thumping bass line. Chance kept the won notes clutched tight, but her attention was fully on Jay.
"So what's this about? You some kind of debt collector?"
"What do you know about mutants?" Jay asked.
The question caught her off guard. "Like... X-Men shit? hero stuff?" Her English carried that particular Korean-American inflection—familiar with American pop culture but still processing it through a different cultural lens. "Most people here think they're like... gwisin or something. Ghosts. Western problems that should stay in the West."
"Congratulations. You're one of them."
Chance actually laughed, the sound sharp and disbelieving. "Oh, hell no. Look, I don't know what kind of scam you're running, but I'm not falling for some mutant cult bullshit. Especially not after the Church." Her expression hardened. "Those fuckers already tried to convince me I was 'special' once."
Jay's expression remained patient. "You have the ability to affect other people's powers through contact. Enhance them or disrupt them. Pretty useful talent. And I need your talents."
"Even if that was true—and it's not—no amount of money would get me to join some shady organization—"
"I don't need you to join anything," Jay interrupted. "I just need to touch to take the power away completely. Remove it forever, so you never have to worry about it again."
Chance stared at him, confusion replacing indignation. "Wait. Take it away? Holy shit, you're him. That guy from the news—the Power Broker."
"I liked to be called Doctor, actually, but yes."
The reality of sitting next to a known supervillain hit her like cold water. She started to stand, but Jay held up a placating hand and pulled out his phone. Blue circuitry flowed across the device as he accessed Korea's banking networks.
"Check your messages," he said casually.
Chance's hands shook as she unlocked her phone and navigated to her Kakao Bank account. The number that appeared made her jaw drop—10 billion won had been transferred to her account.
"Seongsukkaji..." she whispered in Korean, then switched to English: "Holy shit. This is... this is real money?"
"As a service, I’ve handled Taxes, too. Gift tax, capital gains, the whole mess. The Korean revenue service won't bother you." Jay stood and stretched. "So, do we have a deal?"
Chance looked at the number again, then back at Jay. Her American pragmatism warred with Korean caution. "You're really just going to... take it away? The power I don't even know I have?"
"It’ll be a clean removal. I am the Best in the business, at least those I know of. You'll be completely normal."
She extended her hand, still trembling slightly. There was a mix of fear and hope in her voice. "Okay. Deal."
The moment their skin touched, Jay activated both his power theft and its gene activation abilities. He could feel Chance's X-gene spark to life for just an instant—her power to affect other beings' powers flowing into his consciousness before he let the genetic trigger burn itself out completely.
The process was seamless, like magnets attracting. Chance swayed slightly but showed no other effects.
"That's it?" she asked, looking at her hand in confusion.
"That's it." Jay pocketed his phone. "Completely normal human. Congratulations. Also, since you are a local, can you give me recommendations for the best places to eat?"
She laughed despite everything, the sound carrying relief and disbelief in equal measure. "You just gave me enough money to bring my parents back here, and you want restaurant recommendations?"
"I contain multitudes. Also, I'm genuinely hungry."
"Okay, um..." She rattled off a list of late-night spots—samgyeopsal places that stayed open until dawn, pojangmacha selling soju and fried chicken, noraebang where foreigners could sing without judgment. Her recommendations came with the insider knowledge of someone who'd learned Seoul's rhythms the hard way.
As they parted ways, she called after him in that mix of Korean and English, "ya, thank you! jinjjalo! Now I can afford real byeong-won bills for my parents!"
Jay watched her disappear into the crowd, heading toward a proper hotel to store his luggage. One down, one to go.
But Kim Il Sung would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, Seoul's neon playground was calling, and Jay intended to answer.
Comments
Gemaxter
Guess you could say she had no chance in winning.
