Genius of unique lineage Chapter 207


Genius of a Unique Lineage

Chapter 206: Do You Know About the Three Ultimate Specials?

As the Immortal Special Forces team finished their deployment preparations, Team Leader Lee Jung-bong stepped forward. The total count: two hundred fifty strong. The security and analysis teams had gathered, along with most of the Other Side dispatch employees who had lost their jobs at some point.

“The Hughes Gate has burst open in Seoul, and it’s a disaster. We’re heading out to deal with it.”

It was a simple, straightforward, and clear-cut speech.

“Is that it?”

From behind the team leader, the voice of the white-haired division chief could be heard questioning. This was a gathering of immortals; unless one whispered very quietly, everything was overheard.

“Yes, that’s it.”

“You really…”

The division chief sighed deeply and shook his head, dismissing the need for an elaborate speech.

With the same thought, Ginam checked his equipment: Invader Number 4 Bounce Leather interwoven with Kevlar fibers for a bulletproof and stab-resistant suit. A knife categorized as an optical weapon. A rifle equipped with a holographic scope, a Glock pistol tailored to his preferences, and a sawed-off shotgun loaded with Octopus rounds. He wore compressed hardening boots and gloves. Tucked inside his bulletproof vest was a Square Grenade—a flat, square-shaped grenade rather than the typical round one. He packed all four varieties: incendiary, white phosphorus, flashbang, and fire-enhancing.


Assistant Kim Jung-ah asked. She was his marksman and senior.

“Just enough.”

Ginam spoke casually.

“Kwangik will be watching.”

At Jung-ah’s comment, Ginam nodded in agreement. Surely the freelancer was toiling away somewhere. People had said he even managed to block the so-called First Wave Crack and Mini Holes with his bare body. A monstrous feat to imagine.

Mustering strength into his fists, Ginam resolved not to be outdone, driven not by the pressure from his family or other factors. Some people are just there, unavoidable—a rival whom one just cannot stand to lose to.

‘I can catch up to him.’

If that guy uses his mixed heritage, then he himself is of the pureblood lineage, a descendant of the Immortal bloodline.

Ginam stood up, fully equipped.


Team Leader Lee Jung-bong made no further attempt to continue his speech, as there was less than half a day left before the so-called Second Wave Opening, the Hughes Gate.

Ginam boarded the bus. Taking a seat on the 45-passenger vehicle, he stowed some of his gear under the seat. It was an operational vehicle reinforced with bulletproof tires and windows, coated with advanced materials. Settled in his seat, Ginam gazed at his equipment, lost in thought.


Kwangik had fought barehanded, as if dancing nude. Of course, he won, defeating the Invaders and earning the crowd’s cheers for his extraordinary feat. While impressive, one might also consider the flip side: could it be due to lacking proper support as a freelancer? Relying on money saved to buy gear could be troublesome, with costs skyrocketing on the black market. The Immortal Special Forces didn’t sell their specialized gear to civilians. Freelancers must fend for themselves, scrounging for what they could or buying mass-produced items from major corporations targeting freelancers.

The bus started moving, a slight vibration noticeable.

Yoo Kwangik.

Ginam pictured meeting his enemy-turned-roommate. Confronting Kwangik, Ginam contemplated subtly showcasing his gear, ready to explain its features and upgrades if Kwangik was surprised. For instance, his improved bulletproof suit with a higher bounce fiber ratio could now deflect most bullets—thanks to the research team. The Immortal Special Forces’ standard issue was considered the best, barring customized gear.

Ginam’s train of thought was interrupted as Johan greeted him in passing. After returning the greeting, more familiar faces appeared: Umiho and Bang-gitaek.

“Mihoyo, if it gets dangerous, come behind me.”

“You want us both to die?”

Overhearing their banter, Ginam ignored it and contemplated his earlier musings.

‘I’m not a child.’

Boasting about his equipment? That’s no better than bragging about expensive toys. Still, he meticulously checked his gear one more time. He didn’t know why, but his heart was racing with anticipation of meeting Kwangik.

“Looking forward to the fight?”

It was his brother, Section Chief Jeong Ho-nam, who had also boarded the bus—not to look after his team but his sibling.

“I can handle my business.”

Ginam knew his brother’s presence was for his own sake and responded tersely.

“Of course, you would say that,” Ho-nam replied as he took a seat beside Ginam.

Ginam turned to look out the window, and Ho-nam asked, “You don’t seem to be the type to look forward to fighting, but… Yoo Kwangik?”

Ginam flinched, despite their brotherhood.

“Are you carelessly using the power of your pureblood?”

Had Ho-nam used sensory diffusion to read his psychological state? Doubting it, Ginam asked, and his brother shook his head.

“It’s all over your face. Your face is filled with anticipation.”

“Let’s focus on the mission,” Ginam cut him off, detesting such probing into his feelings.

Upon arriving at the operation area, with eight hours before gate opening, they were part of the second joining team.

“It’s over there.”

As he looked around somewhat absently after disembarking, Ho-nam pointed it out, and there he saw Kwangik standing with a large van behind him. There were a few people gathered around.

“You have 30 minutes to gather and do personal checks,” Ho-nam announced to his team, which applied to Ginam’s team as well.

Ginam approached Kwangik.

“Wow, long time no see. It’s been a while, Ginam.”


Ginam scanned Kwangik from head to toe in response to his greeting. What’s going on? Kwangik, just as sensitive, briefly caught Ginam’s gaze.

“Why? Oh, this? This is nothing special—Griffin fiber mixed with bounce and Ogham, or something like that. Made from Invader leather, has good storage, nicknamed the Combat Suit.”

Ginam knew very well about the exclusive suit only supplied to the Hwarang team by the large corporations, a Combat Suit superior even to the elaborately crafted Immortal Special Forces’ gear.

And what about firearms and other weapons?

“Do you want to have a look? Should I lend you one? This must be new to you, right? You’ve seen a coffee van, but a weapons van?”


Ginam involuntarily echoed the question.

Thump. Whee-ee.

Kwangik opened the door to the large van. It was an automatic door. Inside the remodeled vehicle, there were no seats—just an array of firearms, knives, high-grade mass-produced goods crafted with intention, and gears visible even to the discerning eye of an immortal.

Ginam turned away. There was no comparing gear levels. What remained was his performance in the operation area.

‘I’ll take down more than Yoo Kwangik.’

Flames blazed in Ginam’s eyes.

* * *

Why is he acting like that? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in the head of a crazy person.

Ginam approached me without warning, as if to greet me, but instead he just stared blankly before walking away. Was he envious?

I was slightly taken aback at his reaction.

“Why did grandfather send this stuff?”

My mother, seated in the passenger seat of the van, leaned into the conversation and replied.

“He always enjoys solving everything with money.”

“You’re talking about grandfather in front of his grandson. Could you be instilling prejudice against him?”

“I’m not instilling prejudice; you’re grown up, you should know. Aren’t you an adult? You would have been tormented by your mother if you were a minor, son—a high school student messing around like this would be sent to the ring for a 7-day and 8-night counseling session.”

Even now, Brother Panda cringes at the mere shadow of my mother, which is why she grabbed the suit from her and quickly made her exit from the Immortal Special Forces, claiming she needed to support the team. It’s an excuse. The real reason was to flee from her.

Yeah, that’s why people talk about the “Rehab Witch.”

“Yes, I am an adult. Grandfather was wrong, but I really like what he sent.”

Mari, who was silently examining the weapons, spoke up.

“I think I like this one.”

She picked up a Grenade Gun—a device capable of launching a mass of grenades capable of widespread destruction.

Too terrifying a choice for someone so shy to be smiling about.

“Can I use it?”

“You can use anything here, go ahead.”

The van was packed with weapons. From the Grenade Gun Mari chose to a Railgun, to a 28-power scope. There was even a newly material-crafted knife and a Gladius present—yes, a sword from Roman times, albeit reinterpreted for modern times, made from a mix of various alloys.

Bow, throwing knives, spear, and even a jungle machete were there. A bowstring was made with care, using bounce leather reproduced from a laser beam used by a marksman in a previous adventure. A friendly instruction manual lay nearby, appearing to be dedicated only to the gears.

Spell gear was absent, but there seemed to be a few Pure Gears. Money can really buy anything, including stowing a handful of Pure Gears in a van.

My mother commented that the rest were either mass-produced by corporations or exclusive to the Hwarang team.

Again, I thought to myself: money is everything.

“Materialistic son, whose side would you take in a fight between your grandfather and mother?”

Mother asked.

“Is this a choice between mom or dad? What do you mean?”

“The answer?”

“Mother,” I replied, because a fist in front of one’s eyes takes precedence over laws and beliefs.

“Hey, how have you been?”

And then, old connections started showing up. First was the Tattoo Man from Section 1, who had first bestowed upon me the nickname “Neck Kwangik” during my Huwarim days.

“Not bad.”

“Wow! What is all this? This is real flexing.”

After a brief comment, he moved on.

Brother Johan and Brother Gitaek came along as well.

“Five steps, maintain five steps.”

Seeing Brother Gitaek repeating that, and upon asking why, he simply replied, “Umiho.”

I got the hint to be careful. After they moved on, others continued to arrive.


“Weren’t hugs reserved for when you’re on the bed? Wronged me there.”

She was a colleague I had served with during the dispatch to the Other Side’s desert of dust—affectionately known as ‘Scratchy.’ By her side was Assistant Kim Daeun.

“The Other Side dispatch was cut off, so with no work, I came to support.”

Scratchy and Daeun left a few words each, and in cheerfulness, I stretched out my hand.

A normal handshake with Daeun.

A hug with Scratchy.

“I have to go soon because personal checks are brief. Let’s catch up later.”

Scratchy and Daeun departed.

If Hyemin had seen this, she’d have thrown another fit. Fortunately or not, Miss Kang Hyemin, who had said she didn’t need the suit, was taking the time to focus elsewhere.

After they left, a military officer came to ask if I had considered enlisting.


My mother called out after witnessing everything.

“You’re quite popular. No worries about dying a virgin for a lifetime.”

“Please, a bit of control.”

“What’s this word ‘virgin’? I’m not familiar with it; what does it mean?”

Mari asked from the side.

Guess you really can’t avoid that topic around kids.

“Daughter, being a virgin means, well, never having used your reproductive organs for anything other than peeing in your whole life…”

Better to tune this out.

What kind of sex education is this in front of the Hughes Gate?

Despite such events, the waiting time didn’t feel boring.

Time ticked away smoothly.

Ahnkyul, Sojin, and Woonbi also came by. The trio said they were heading back to their Hwarang team.

Then, the high-calorie meals arrived.

“This is my first time trying a high-calorie beef-flavored bar.”

I was genuinely amazed at its taste—an impressive feat of corporate flavor engineering.

Finally, after eating and resting, before the operation began, I looked for a spot to move to.

It was a place where a few freelancers had gathered.

Hyemin would join later.

I placed Mari and Mother together for movement, and I found a suitable spot for myself.

That positioning was too much for Mother, Mari, and Hyemin.

Instead of batting fourth, I brought a sniper rifle along and joined the group.

Brother Panda joined the Immortal side.

I encouraged him to do so when he asked for permission.

And so, I came here alone.

“Hey, a new face.”

It was a gathering of freelancers—a mix of half-blood Immortals and psychic freelancers.

One of them noticed me and commented.

“Yes, I’m a rookie.”

I responded casually.

“Whoa, rookie, it looks like you’ve had fun somewhere. Nice looking gear.”

First-time meeting with this person who remarked.

“Yes, playing has always been my favorite thing since childhood.”

Another casual response from me.

Was this really the time to chew the fat?

“Do you know about the Three Ultimate Specials? I’m somewhat familiar with that guy.”

In a sniper position before the gate opening, I overheard stories about me, a person I didn’t know.


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