Weapon seller in the world of magic

Sungjun’s tone then slid colder, like ice poured into a wound. ”What? Isn’t a hundred million credits that I gave you enough for the task, or must I start threatening the people you find precious to get what I want?”

The words hit like a punch. The in‑charge’s face went ashen. He hurriedly grabbed at Sungjun’s sleeve with both hands, fingers trembling. ”Please—no. Don’t... don’t hurt my family. Please.”

Sungjun shrugged in indifference as if he wasn’t moved by the in charge’s plea. ”Everyone in the world is aware that Pavel had the policy of never hurting innocents,” he said quietly, almost conversational. But a moment later, he added, ”However, that policy was what my late father put into effect when he was ruling the underworld. But now, I’m the king, and don’t force me to change the policy. Now, all you have to do is use your influence subtly to bring me closer to my target and help me escape him. Once the task is done, you can just voluntarily retire as a part of taking responsibility. And for that, you were given a lifetime settlement of 100 million credits, an amount 95% of the world wouldn’t be able to earn in their entire lifetime. And if you can’t even do it, then I will have no use for you.”

The warning broke the man completely. He sagged back against the wall as he knelt down, tears bright in the corner of his eyes. ”Alright. I’ll help. I’ll do whatever it takes to fulfill the task. But still, I can’t tell you how to be sent down there. The spell forbids me from revealing the whereabouts of inmates below Level‑Five.”

Sungjun’s eyes didn’t move, but the faint glow at their edge dimmed. ”Don’t worry, I won’t force you to do things that you cannot do. Just tell me what you can.”

The officer wiped his face with the back of his hand and forced a breath. ”Sir, you won’t be ’sent’ to Level‑Seven by any guard unless you’re marked as too dangerous to house on the common levels. Transfers are controlled by special units. I might be the prison in charge, but I can’t order one. What I can do—” He glanced around the solitary block as if the concrete had ears. ”is point you to names. There are men who know the transfer corridors, who know which officers will look the other way for the right price.”

Sungjun’s expression softened just a fraction. The man was terrified but trying to be useful. ”One thing,” the in‑charge added quickly, voice pleading now, ”Also, please do not kill the guards. Let them live. They’re doing their duty. Prisoners can die for what they did, but the guards are different. Please... I beg you.”

Sungjun considered that, then nodded once, small and decisive. ”You’ll get your bargain. I won’t kill your men if they don’t force my hand.”

Relief crashed through the officer so visibly that he looked younger by minutes. ”Thank you, Sir.”

The next morning;

Sungjun walked back into the cell like he owned the silence. The door clanged shut behind him, and Steve was already there, waiting with the slow, steady patience of someone who’d learned to read a room.

”Boss, you okay?” Steve asked without ceremony.

Sungjun shrugged off his jacket and dropped onto the lower bunk. ”I am alright.” He paused, then sat up and met Steve’s eyes. ”I need to get to Level‑7. And whatever we do, no killing of guards, and no killing of inmates who haven’t earned it. I need to find another way.”

”Level-7? Sir... are you sure you want to go there?” Steve gulped.

Sungjun snapped at him instantly, ”Do you think I went to a solitary cell just because I was too bored or something?”

As Steve froze, Sungjun continued. ”Help me sincerely with whatever you can do, and I will return the favor in due time.”

Steve took a deep breath and gave a nod. ”Boss, this is Level‑2 — most of the boys here are smugglers, small‑time gang jobs. The inmates aren’t worth much. Even if you beat all of them, you might not face too much trouble. Only the cops are worth the punishment,” After thinking a bit, he added. ”But there is a way. There’s a guard captain named Russel Andre. He is a sadist—likes to make men talk with a smile. He’s been off on leave for the past few days. When he returns, he’ll definitely pay attention to you. Killing him will get you what you want, and not even officers would feel offended, but I’ll say it again. Level‑7 isn’t a joke. I heard that the Robotic Prison guards are engineered to handle anything a prisoner throws at them.”

Sungjun’s eyes flicked lazily, ”That’s none of your business.”

Steve swallowed hard, the color draining from his face a little. He nodded, because it was the right reply and because he’d already made his choice by telling Sungjun. ”Five days,” he said. ”He’s coming back in five. I will try my best to spread the rumors about you so that he will come straight to you when he returns.”

Sungjun nodded, ”Alright.”

Two days later;

An open‑top car pulled to the curb, and a woman with a practiced smile helped Russel out, arranging his uniform as if she were fixing a suit. Bidding him goodbye, he walked in smiling, checking his reflection on a chrome badge as he greeted the guard at the gate with a broad, practiced ”Hi.”

The gate guard’s polite mask dropped the second the pleasantries were done and the small talk moved to the mess hall. ”How’s Level‑2 been while I was away?” Russel asked, voice light.

The guard hesitated, eyes flicking toward the inner yard like he was checking for cameras. ”We had a new cellmate show up and took over things pretty fast. In mere a week, he became the King of level-2.”

”The King of Level-2?” Russel furrowed his brows. ”Tell me what he had done.” He tucked a hand into his jacket and walked on, the rest of the prison falling back into routine behind him.

After a while, in his office, Russel’s jaw tightened anyway as he read the file on Sungjun. ”Caught smuggling drugs worth 20 million while crossing the border to Novarusk... He seemed to be connected to many gangs... Hmm... it says here that this guy lost his eye in some kind of revenge, and a bionic eye was implanted in him, which is no longer working. Maybe he could be the source of some information.” A thought appeared in his head, and a smirk formed at his lips.

”Drag Sungjun Han to the torture chamber,” he then barked at the nearby guard, coming to a decision. His voice carried the kind of authority that came from years of taking pleasure in making men smaller.

The guard hesitated, rubbing his jaw as if testing the idea like a bad tooth. ”Sir... he’s not what he looks. He’s lean, but—” he swallowed, ”he’s strong. Three days ago, he was ambushed by more than a dozen inmates in the showers, and all ended up hospitalized with their bones broken.”

Russel’s eyes flashed hard. ”I’ll break his arrogance,” he said, low and dangerous. ”Bring him in ten minutes.”

At the cell, Sungjun seemed to be alone, had his legs crossed on the bottom bunk with a comic folded open across his knees. Like a True King on the floor, Sungjun benefits from skipping the line for food, officers giving him coffee with breakfast, the kind of coffee only they are privileged to have, comics to read, etc...

Meanwhile, seeing that he wasn’t sent down to the lower levels, the inmates on Level-2 slowly felt like they needed to get into Sungjun’s good books, and as a result, every day, he used to get presents, as little as books to as expensive as imported liquor.

With a stack of comic books on the side, Sungjun was currently enjoying his time, but in truth, he was waiting for his target to arrive.

And then the metallic cell door crashed open, interrupting his attention. With many prisons behind, Russel swept in, his eyes wandered over the room for a moment before they fell on Sungjun. ”Sungjun Han?” he announced. ”You’re coming with me.”

Sungjun looked up slowly, one eyebrow lifting like an invitation. He casually put away the comic and pushed himself up without hurry.

”Are you the big shot around here?” Sungjun asked in a flat tone, although knowing well who he was. ”But I don’t need offerings from every Tom, Dick, and Harry. You can leave.”

Russel’s smile thinned into a snarl. ”You really think you are the king here, huh?” he said to the guards. ”Take him down.”

The prison guards hesitated, but after a couple of seconds, the first guard lunged.

However, before he made a second step, Sungjun turned into a blur as he charged forward and grabbed his wrist. With a twist of his arm, he then swung him away. The guard flew and crashed into the wall.

Seeing that, the remaining took a step back, but Russel barked, ”Go...”