From Within (1)
The news was flooded with coverage of the HT Group year-end party incident.
An unidentified Murim fighter had crashed the party in an attempt to assassinate Chairman Park, only to be stopped by security agents. Details on the assassin remained unclear, the reports said.
The massive screen in the lobby was running the same story on loop.
Lee Yeon watched for a moment before heading to the nearby ATM. The world-shaking event was what it was—her life went on unchanged.
As she made the transfer to her mom, she dialed her up. It was the monthly hospital bill for Dad.
"Have you eaten? I'm doing fine. How's Dad? Good to hear. Tell him his daughter's hanging in there. Yeah, I'll swing by soon. Oh, and I sent a bit extra this month. New year and all—treat yourself to some new clothes. Stop wearing the same old stuff. I've already got mine. Don't worry. Tae-joo? Tell him to quit the part-time gig and focus on studying. Scholarships beat slinging burgers. Got it, I'll eat right—no worries."
She hung up, pulled her card from the machine, and slipped it into her wallet. A glance at the balance drew a sigh, but the year-end bonus made this month bearable.
If it wasn't tough, I'd be lying.
But whenever things got hard, she reminded herself:
This body that'd rot away in the end anyway—better bust your ass for family. That might just be the meaningful life.
As she turned, Jang Cheon stood right there.
"Whoa!"
"Why so jumpy?"
Embarrassed at the thought he might've overheard her chat with Mom, she tossed out a flippant line.
"You didn't peek at my PIN, did you?"
Jang Cheon chuckled and held out a sheet of paper.
"What's this?"
Lee Yeon saw it was a BST application form.
"Ah!"
She looked at him, emotions swirling.
Jang Cheon smiled softly.
"I'm heading out tomorrow. Take care."
"Tomorrow? That soon?"
"Yes."
"Kinda sucks."
It wasn't just words—she really felt it. Only three days since they met, so why this pang?
"Safe travels."
"Thanks. See you."
She stared blankly as he rode the elevator up.
Long after he vanished, she finally glanced at the form in her hand.
"Oh! Forgot to say thanks."
Jang Cheon poured a whiskey on the rocks and walked to the window.
He sipped while gazing out, eyes unchanged from when he'd first arrived in the city.
Halfway through the glass, he called Bishop.
Bishop's tone suddenly turned serious.
Jang Cheon trailed off. Even over the line, Bishop could sense his mood.
The doorbell rang. He hung up and opened the door—Lee Yeon stood there, waving the application form.
"Forgot to say thanks for this."
"Come in."
"Nah, just wanted to say it here. I'm taking the BST. Finish work, train tonight. Truth is, I'd given up. Family first, I'd just endure. But now? That wasn't sacrifice—it was quitting. Gonna hustle harder, make us all happy."
She blurted everything she'd mulled over on the elevator ride up. Felt silly now.
"Good for you. Impressive."
"Heh, wasn't fishing for that."
She grinned sheepishly.
"Oh, and the whole security team's on chairman detail for a while."
"Starting when?"
"Now."
"If you're thinking of quitting, maybe now's the time."
"Huh?"
"Assassination attempt might not be over."
Lee Yeon smiled faintly.
"Worried about me?"
"Yes."
"Thanks. But this is my job. Can't quit even if I wanted. Appreciate the concern though."
"No trouble."
"Meeting you taught me a ton about Murim. Got me chasing a forgotten dream again."
"My pleasure. You'll make a fine Murim fighter, Lee Yeon."
"Safe trip. Hope we cross paths again someday."
She smiled, bowed, and walked off. Someone treating her so straightforwardly—rare these days. Jang Cheon would stick in her memory for a long time.
He watched her go, then shut the door.
Slipped on his trusty MP3 headset, cranked the volume.
But focus slipped; he took it off.
Poured another whiskey, headed to the window.
Doorbell again.
He opened it with a welcoming nod—Chairman Park In-hwan and Hong Tae-sik.
"Expecting someone?"
"No."
"Mind a quick chat? Won't take long."
"Come in."
They entered.
Park In-hwan eyed the half-empty glass.
"Mid-drink? Pour me one."
"How?"
"Straight."
Park In-hwan downed it smoothly.
"Like your liquor?"
"Just a little now and then. Pretend on the rocks."
"Smoke?"
"No. Bad for training."
"Right. Still can't kick it myself. 'Gonna quit,' I say—been saying it forever. Quitting stress is worse, right?"
"Smoking's worse still."
"Haha, true enough."
Park In-hwan laughed heartily, then got to it.
"Help me one more time."
Jang Cheon stayed silent. Park pressed on.
"For Blayton's sake if nothing else. You said it—they're no amateurs. Stick around, uncover the mastermind."
Park was desperate. Building HT Group, he'd weathered storms. His gut had always guided him through.
This time too. Had to keep Jang Cheon—gut screamed it. Started with Blayton, now his own instinct.
"I know you don't think much of me."
"Misunderstanding. Business is business—no like or dislike."
"Let's extend that business a bit."
Jang Cheon didn't bite easy.
"Why hesitate?"
"Won't end with just finding them. Can you promise? Just the digging?"
Park met his eyes, honest.
"Can't promise."
"Exactly my dilemma."
"Please."
Jang Cheon pondered, then nodded.
"You know I'm pricey. Especially for you—steep fees."
"I know better than anyone."
"Uncovering this? Tough. They cut tails, go dark—impossible then."
"Noted."
"Three months max. Fail, I leave. No refunds on advance, sorry. Still good?"
Pure trust play—could fake three months, bail.
"Deal."
"Thirty million dollars. Up to naming the puppetmaster. You handle them—or new contract."
Hong Tae-sik's face twisted. Saved the chairman once, planned to stay out—but thirty million? No way.
"Damn it! Thirty mil—who's pocket change is that? Absurd! That buys anyone."
Park eyed him quietly.
"Really? Give you thirty mil, you guarantee the mastermind?"
Hong couldn't answer. The guarantee jabbed—calling him out for jumping in.
Still, outrageous.
Once bitten, twice shy—he yelled at Jang Cheon.
"Not even wiping them—just ID'ing for thirty mil? Highway robbery!"
"Told you—I don't wanna take this."
"For thirty mil?"
"Yes."
"Bull!"
"Is money your whole life, Chief Hong? Thirty mil make you assassinate the chairman?"
"What the hell? Never!"
"Then why assume I'm money-mad? Don't you think this job's worth it?"
Hong had nothing. He'd lost reason at the number—admitted it.
Park raised a hand.
"Enough."
"Yes, Chairman. Sorry."
Hong bowed to Jang Cheon, stepped back.
Park grinned.
"Thirty mil's a steal. Thought three months at ten mil a pop—three hundred. Bargain. Haha."
"Real trouble starts post-reveal."
"If I die, I lose everything. I'll pay gladly—to make my killers pay."
"Fine. You have the account. Wire it, I start."
Hong spoke—to Park, not Jang.
"Agent Lee Yeon and Team 3 for support."
Keep eyes on her.
Park glanced at Jang Cheon, who nodded okay.
"Make it so."
"Yes."
"We'll head out."
Park, beaming, paused at the door.
"Anyone you guarded who still died?"
"Yes."
"I see. Heaven calls, no stopping it."
Park seemed wistful. Jang Cheon replied evenly.
"Can't fight heaven. But man's will? I'll block it best I can."