Operation to Reclaim Criminal Proceeds
Monday evening. At a window seat in Wonders, the family restaurant on the academy fleet, Shin Sua and Gong In-myeong sat across from each other.
"Your taste in food's like a damn pine tree, seriously." Gong In-myeong muttered, eyeing the massive parfait in front of Shin Sua with a weary look.
"Who're you calling cheap taste?" Bam! Shin Sua, her face flushed with anger, slammed the table while furiously scooping up brownie and ice cream. An empty parfait cup already sat beside her. Gong In-myeong glanced back and forth between his own cheap iced coffee and hers. They'd planned to split the bill, and he'd chosen this budget-friendly chain spot to match his wallet—that part was fine. But why did the gap in their spending feel so stark even here? He pondered it with a troubled expression.
"Didn't mean it like that..." Knowing Shin Sua's temper well, Gong In-myeong trailed off, sneaking a glance at her.
Anyone hearing she was the only daughter of Goryeo Group's chairman might picture her feasting on luxury every day. But Shin Sua's tastes ran popular when it came to sweets. She'd drag Gong In-myeong here after school to gorge on the sugar bombs her parents and butler forbade at home or the mansion. Not that this was a date, of course. The vibe between them screamed zero romantic tension—a glance made that clear.
Gong In-myeong's dad leveraged his looks and Confucius descendant title for an entertainer gig over straight Shangju work. Shin Sua's father had tapped him as the exclusive promo model for Goryeo Group's kitchenware, keeping a business tie going strong. That was their whole deal. Just old friends who'd known each other forever, pointlessly. They'd never seen each other as anything romantic, and never would. Shin Sua treated him like the son of the family butler; Gong In-myeong saw her as the sponsor's spoiled daughter. Nothing more.
But whatever their dynamic, in the academy fleet where Shin Sua knew no one but her butler, Gong In-myeong was the only guy she could vent to comfortably.
'What a pain.' Holding back his honest gripe, Gong In-myeong sipped his coffee. Half a year since their last real chat, and Shin Sua's face was twisted in full disgust.
"Pisses me off, that jerk." Shin Sua grumbled around a mouthful of wafer sticky with ice cream, having demolished her second parfait.
"Half a year since I drag you out, and you start with trash talk right off the bat?" With a decade under their belts, Gong In-myeong could guess who she meant.
"What's Taeyang done now? He won the match—should just be satisfied."
"...Taeyang?" Spotting Shin Sua's eyes narrow, Gong In-myeong realized his slip.
"Since when're you two so chummy?"
"Just... talked a bit, and he seems like a guy with a lot to teach."
"Hmmm." For a split second, Shin Sua glared at him like he was a spy.
"Anyway, that bastard. He could've won but threw it on purpose."
"Why the hell would he..." Gong In-myeong started, then recalled his chat with Kim Taeyang. The impression stuck: a guy who favored solid, stable things—opposite his looks.
"Ah. Maybe scared of getting on the bad side of Goryeo Group's lady?"
People had whispered that around Shin Sua forever. Cowards who'd lost tournaments to her, rationalizing it as fear of backlash from beating a chaebol heir. Her most hated type.
"...If he was that kinda guy, he wouldn't have busted through that screen to begin with. No clue how he even did it." Shin Sua's gaze drifted downward quietly. Gong In-myeong figured she just didn't want to show her real frustration.
"Be straight with me. You kinda guess why Kim Taeyang threw it, right?"
That's when Shin Sua suddenly looked up, grilling him.
"How the hell should I know?"
"You threw to Seol Romi too. And from how you said his name earlier, you two're already buddies."
"That's..." Getting caught losing on purpose to Seol Romi was unavoidable, even if his chumminess with Kim Taeyang was secondary. Shin Sua always wanted to crush Seol Romi, and Gong In-myeong had been the one guy she'd never beaten in middle school tourneys.
Shin Sua had bossed him around like a servant since way back, so they'd never rivaled each other. But they knew each other's skill levels cold.
"...She was so desperate. Felt like she'd shatter if I didn't let her win once." Gong In-myeong lowered his voice like confessing a dirty secret. Arrogant as hell, but his face was dead serious—no smile.
"If Seol Romi heard that, she'd kill you."
"Spare me. She's scary as shit."
Not thrilled with his answer, Shin Sua crossed her arms and leaned back. Maybe he thought throwing was kind, but Seol Romi sure hadn't taken it that way.
"Hm." Shin Sua pondered. She got that Gong In-myeong felt guilty for fueling Seol Romi's inferiority complex. Letting her win for that dumb reason? She hated it, but it was his call, so whatever. Seeing Seol Romi pissed had felt pretty good anyway.
But her and Kim Taeyang? Not old acquaintances like him and Seol Romi—just met on Argo. Why would he throw in front of teachers and students?
"What if he's into you?"
"Huh?"
Shin Sua had run through every scenario, so this curveball from Gong In-myeong threw her hard.
"Threw to look good. Honestly, what other reason'd he have?"
His process-of-elimination logic sounded too plausible, ramping her confusion.
Thwack!
"Don't gimme that bullshit! Where's a delinquent punk get off—!" Shin Sua smacked the table with her palm and shot up, yanking a card from her wallet and storming to the counter.
"Want me to check for you? Just sound him out casual-like."
Asking her retreating back, he saw her shoulders twitch.
"...If that jerk's eyeing me, you don't stop me, got it?"
At the counter, Shin Sua glanced back at Gong In-myeong.
"I'll reject him in the most pathetic way I can dream up and pay back yesterday's humiliation."
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, thrill, and confidence.
"Do what you want."
Gong In-myeong shrugged like he didn't care.
"...Wasn't talking about that kinda interest."
Only after she'd paid and left did he mutter with a wry smile. Not romantic interest—he meant she might see him as a sugar daddy mark. But Shin Sua'd jumped to conclusions.
"Such an overthinker."
He'd just wanted to lend an ear to his childhood friend gripe, but his nosiness landed him extra hassle.
"Huh, first time seeing that."
Her admitting defeat out loud. Covering his share too, when it was always Dutch before. Never happened once.
Even after losing to Seol Romi, she'd never owned it. What changed? Her reaction screamed she was the one into him first, maybe.
"Knew she'd cover tips like this, should've ordered expensive."
Gong In-myeong downed the dregs of his iced coffee and stood.
* * *
I didn't wait for advanced classes next week—didn't wanna dig into Jeong Da-un's personal history just to rush Spirit Lord Transformation buffs. Simple reason.
Yeom Jin-gwan. That guy quietly building a crew around his group from day one bugged me.
His plot to feed Baek Yu-min's body to their enslaved vengeful spirit via bad intel to Baek Je-in? Foiled by me. But this might make 'em move faster than in the game.
Prep early—that was my call. Mentioning his ex-wife's spot planted me as important in Jeong Da-un's head too.
Thought about using Jeong Do-jeon's power to confirm, then spill on Yeom Jin-gwan. Nah. His buddy died swept in another event, identity hidden even in game. Gotta uncover who. And spilling to Jeong Da-un early means I can't snag their loot.
Shin Sua's perception of you has changed from 'Revenge Target (T_T)!' to 'Anticipating'
Relationship Rank 1 → 2
Shin Sua is trying to induce specific behavior from you
"Hm?"
Lost in thought while slipping across the fleet under night cover, a relationship update pinged out of nowhere.
No, why Shin Sua at this hour? What shifted to bump the rank—and make her nuts?
"Gotta watch out more starting tomorrow."
Relationship ranks rise on goodwill or obsessive hate/interest. Rank 1 to 2 didn't mean she liked me now. Grateful it nudged the silver trophy on my challenge tracker, but poking her temper could spark hassle. Until I pry a fix via Gong In-myeong indirect-like, ignore any beef from her cold.
<What's that sudden?>
"Ear's itching."
<Wash up proper, you stink.>
"How you dead and still filling the tub? Water bill's killing me."
<Gotta feel good somehow. Can't do half the shit since this.>
"Every time you go first, tub reeks of perfume after. Feels like I'm salting my own corpse—fucking gross!"
<Gemma scent in the bathwater? Bow 108 times in thanks and chug it. Why bitch?!>
"You think I'm some perv?!"
<Tanned blond delinquent thoughts? Predictable! Hate the smell, drain and refill!>
"You keep raiding the fridge, subsidies bleed to groceries—ain't got cash! Not won't refill the tub, can't!"
<Why blame me for your broke ass and no skills?!>
"Patch notes: Tomorrow AM, ancestral offerings nerfed to three dishes."
<Urk... Fine, 30-min soak tub water for you. Mercy this once.>
"You'd forgive meat broth?!"
<That's sis pheromones, duh?!>
"No freak hobbies like that, you psycho bitch!"
<Cheap on water? Hop in together!>
"Nah... We ain't there yet—"
<Idiot. 'Yet' my ass. Filming your solo docu.>
Pop! Gemma teased plenty, then disguise-shifted to a racing swimsuit in a flash.
<Eh, hot soak in a swimsuit? Big sis might consider. Hehe.>
She knew I couldn't touch her ghost ass. Her face brimmed with usual mischief. Tempting, yeah.
"Not horny enough for dead chicks. Cut it. Time anyway."
<Tch. No fun.>
I shot back; she puffed her cheeks, spun, and bodysuit-ed back.
<You said big payout if this works.>
"Money goes straight to savings."
<Your looks and actions never match.>
Like Gemma said, nail this and money woes end. Just a side goal, though.
Time: 11:27 PM. Spot: abandoned high-speed tram tunnel, slated for redevelopment. Deserted—no one but me, ghost-town spooky. Funny in a world where every Shangju has ancestor tag-alongs.
"Prep time."
<Okey-dokey.>
Every move counts now. Here to wreck Yeom Jin-gwan's scheme.
I steeled up and stepped in. Black rags head-to-toe to blend, staking out pre-target arrival.
<Good spot pick.>
Vet Gemma chose: cramped under junked emergency vehicle in a side shelter off the tunnel, spaced even. Crawl under ambulance, dank air hit my nose. Hid solo in the empty tube awhile.
Then.
Step... step... Footfalls echoed distant.
"Gemma."
<On it.>
Her 'Presence Block' kicked in tandem. She ghosted up, parked on vent atop tunnel ceiling per plan.
Tsssh! Eyes shut, shared senses flowed—her view filled my head.
Groups from both ends: suited guys and a hooded dude converging. Masks and gear hid Yeom Jin-gwan and his buyer.
<Those the punks?>
"Play nice. Our fat-tip mark soon."
She giggled soft, then shut up. They hit tunnel center. We clamped mouths, ears locked on every word.