Human Butchers (3)
“What the hell's going on here?”
Ma Chung-hwa, who had rushed over after getting the call, asked in a low voice.
“It's that guy you saw, boss. The one who was supposed to turn himself in today—he got his ass handed to him by someone and came back half-dead. He's in such bad shape he could drop any second!”
“Damn it! We need to cut off a tail before the cops start digging, but he's in that condition... What the hell do we do? Right! Hey, Wang Yong. Get word to Gu Jung-seop roughly and send him off quick. That guy's got no priors, yeah?”
“True, but... you think he'll listen? The bastard's gotten cocky lately...”
Just then, one of the underlings burst in—the same punk who'd woken Wang Yong that morning.
“Big trouble, boss!”
“What the fuck are you doing? Can't you see we're talking?”
Ma Chung-hwa's bellow made the underling's neck shrink like a turtle's. It was the unconditional reflex of an animal broken by violence.
“Let him talk. We gotta know what's up.”
“One of our guys, Gu Jung-seop—he got hit by a car! His back's bent at a ninety-degree angle. He's in the hospital now!”
The blood drained from Ma Chung-hwa and Wang Yong's faces.
“Wh-what the fuck is this? We get possessed by ghosts or some shit?!”
* * *
He'd chosen the annihilation tactics from World War II Soviet doctrine. Smash them again and again, turning tactical victories into strategic ones.
If they tried cutting off tails to shield the top brass, he'd shatter those tails first. There had to be a limit to the tails; there had to be an end.
Move just half a step ahead of their plans, and return every ounce of terror they'd inflicted on victims. When they realized they weren't the predators, but the prey...
The bosses' judgment would cloud, and the underlings would fracture. An organization run on fear was vulnerable to fear they didn't control.
I'll deal with you bastards your way.
* * *
At dawn, he tossed the blood-soaked Jing Saitong noisily into their hideout.
Then he swung the Jeep's wheel straight toward the gambling den of Gu Jung-seop, the third on the surrender list.
The Jeep's engine roared like a beast.
Gu Jung-seop. In the original timeline, he'd stabbed a Yeongdeungpo Police detective in the back and then turned himself in.
Last night, the gambling den had been buzzing with dreams of quick riches. Now, he spotted the guy lowering the shutter.
He rummaged in the back seat bag. Swapped out the plates for ones seized during the investigation—stolen vehicle tags. Vehicle lookup was now impossible.
As the guy exhaled cigarette smoke and climbed into his own car, the Jeep Wrangler—with its combat bumper—slammed into his waist with a thunderous roar.
The initial impact twisted his body at an odd angle against his car. Kang Cheol-gu caught sight of the guy's legs bouncing away a few steps.
The Jeep's aggressive tires rolled right over those legs.
Crack!
The tightly shut windows muffled the screams, but he felt the vibration of shattering bones through the chassis.
In the rearview mirror, he saw the guy's underlings yelling and pulling out phones. Their silent, mouth-gaping faces in the mute scene were almost comical.
It's been a long day.
* * *
“Come on. Tell me what went down, quick and detailed—no skipping shit. How many guys? Cops?”
Ma Chung-hwa pressed the bedridden Jing Saitong in the hospital room. His voice was uncharacteristically urgent. Wang Yong sat beside him, face grim.
“It... it was just one guy.”
Jing Saitong answered weakly, somewhat calmed now.
“Just one guy?! You fucking moron!”
Ma Chung-hwa's eyes turned red. Wang Yong gestured to hold him back—keep going.
“Didn't seem like a cop... Which Korean cop beats a man like that? He had his cap pulled low, so I couldn't see his face well... but he was young. Voice sounded under thirty, tops. But... he looked young, yet the vibe was different. Like he'd been around the block in this world, all that seasoned ease. He just smiled silently while pounding me... scared the shit outta me. First time I've seen a guy like that.”
Jing Saitong's body shuddered. Just recalling the man triggered raw fear.
This punk's done for—even after treatment, he won't be worth shit!
Wang Yong's thick brows twitched. The doctor's assessment matched: over three months recovery, severe injuries. Right hand was a compound fracture with ligament damage. Even healed, he'd barely grip a spoon—the doc had shaken his head.
“Goddamn it!”
Ma Chung-hwa exploded as they left the room.
“Barely able to hold a spoon! The little shit who was flying around just days ago!”
“Gu Jung-seop's the same. Doc says he'll be in a wheelchair for life. Word's spreading like wildfire among the crew. Two guys crippled in two days... everyone's on edge.”
Wang Yong sighed, exhaling smoke.
“But... doesn't this feel familiar?”
Ma Chung-hwa, back to his calm self, lit a cigarette and asked.
That was his scary side. No matter how riled up, once battle started, he played the long game coolly. He wouldn't lose composure until he'd bitten the enemy's throat and forced total submission.
“Familiar how?”
“Their methods. Don't know who, but it's familiar. Looks like random chaos... but nah. Somehow they knew exactly who to hit—the ones we need. No traces left, no extra words. The victims are terrified. Not the body first—the mind breaks and the tail goes limp. You get me?”
“It's... how we operate!”
Wang Yong answered, stunned, forgetting to ash his cigarette.
“Exactly. This fucker's someone who knows us. Knows us real well...”
* * *
“Yeah, what brings you here so early? I've been hearing about you everywhere lately. Quite the hotshot, huh? Hahaha.”
“Tell me about it. When I first applied for violent crimes, I was so nervous... But Cheol-gu, always watch your back.”
He'd visited his parents' place after ages. After their warm welcome, he cut to the chase.
“I need a favor. Put in a good word with Gangnam Police Chief Lee Myeong-ho.”
“Lee Myeong-ho... This about the Joseonjok gang?”
Dad's smile vanished; his voice dropped low. Retired from the front lines, but his insight was still razor-sharp.
“Yes. One of our guys got hit.”
“Hm. Lee's the famed 'China expert'—over ten years as a liaison there. Still has ties to Chinese public security... good ones. So, is this just data request? Or joint investigation?”
The middle-aged man before him shifted in seconds from kindly dad to Korea's number-two cop.
“Can't go into details yet. But trust me—I won't let you down.”
“Cheol-gu.”
Mom, peeling mango beside him, spoke softly.
“I trust you. But don't push yourself too hard.”
She stared at the fruit knife in her hand.
“...A blade...”
The small knife shaved the mango skin thin.
“The sharper you hone it, the keener it gets. But the sharpest blades snap easiest. Mom thinks you're looking a bit precarious right now. Take some breather, look around you.”
Was it the wisdom of a cop's wife, or a mother's instinct? Somehow, she sensed the crisis brewing around me.
* * *
Yeongdeungpo Police Station, Violent Crimes Unit 1.
“Hey, you hear the rumors?”
“...What?”
“Those bastards.”
Detective Park glanced around, lowering his voice.
“Ma Chung-hwa's crew, right? The ones who did that to Violent Crimes 2's Yoon...”
“Yoon from 2? The one who just died... Shit, yeah! Such a solid guy—total waste. But why bring up Ma Chung-hwa?”
“Word is, those fuckers are getting wrecked. Two guys turned into veggies overnight!”
“No way, how?!”
Detective Jang sucked in a sharp breath.
“Dunno. Heard one underling got kidnapped and came back a bloody corpse. Another got run over and crippled.”
“Kinda satisfying inside, but who the hell's messing with Ma Chung-hwa in Yeongdeungpo?”
Detective Jang frowned at Park, distrust shadowing his face.
“That's the thing. Rumors flying everywhere. Merchants they screwed hiring hitmen, brand gangs from Gangnam pushing in, even special police agents involved.”
“That's bullshit. We can't even touch that turf in our jurisdiction. World sure is fucked, huh? Cops too scared of gangsters to work properly, know the real perp but gotta pin it on some punk kid.”
“Our fault? Law's the law—what can ya do? Fuck! He surrendered, confessed solo crime...”
A thick vein throbbed on Park's forehead.
“Those guys are vicious, though. Interrogating that kid punk... We knew he was acting on Ma's orders, told him to spill. Fucker gouges his own eye with his finger! Scared me shitless just thinking about it.”
“Yeah. Where do they even come from? Sigh.”
Park shook his head.
“...Wish some special forces cops would roll in and wipe 'em out. This is about police pride now!”
“Get real. You know Stone Team Leader from 2? That hardass? Even he just cried when his guy died! The bastard who'd normally flip the whole place—who's gonna touch that shit?”
* * *
First time here in daylight.
The room salon 'Susunhwa' in the heart of Dallim-dong was dead quiet. Just the occasional scrape of chairs—hard to believe this turned into a den of lust at night.
“So, officer. What brings you here? Showing up out of nowhere scares honest citizens like us.”
Wang Yong. He'd seen photos plenty, but this was the real deal. A dozen underlings ringed him, trying to intimidate from the jump.
Even after recent random hits on his crew, he kept his cool. Not an easy mark.
“Here for a free drink. Cop salary won't cut it for places like this, y'know.”
“What? Puhaha! This young cop's got balls! Hey, full setup—best cognac too.”
“But why no girls in a room salon? Just a bunch of dark dudes. Ruins the vibe.”
“The fuck you say? You punk—know where you are? This is Dallim-dong, Yanbian Dallim-dong. We could dump you and no one'd know!”
One underling snarled. Wang Yong didn't stop him—testing reactions, gauging strength.
“......Ignore 'em.”