The Martial Artist Who Arrived on First Class (3)
HT Group Chairman Park In-hwan was in Jang Cheon's room.
He was small and slight in stature, but his eyes radiated an unyielding resolve that promised he was no pushover. That alone might have left his first impression as merely a grumpy old man, but what polished that intensity was a rare composure seldom seen in ordinary people.
It could have been the leisure of the wealthy, or perhaps a gift bestowed upon one who had endured to claim it.
Thus, his first impression was that of a "little giant." In truth, he was a self-made legend who had built HT Group from nothing. In an era when dragons rarely rose from streams, he had ascended to the heavens with a wish-fulfilling jewel clenched in his teeth.
Accompanying him was Security Chief Hong Tae-sik, whose massive frame resembled a solid boulder—anyone could see he was built for the role.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"I wouldn't have, if not for Blayton's chairman."
"I wouldn't have called you without his introduction either."
Blayton's chairman was a billionaire who had never fallen out of Forbes' top five over the past decade, a global tycoon. He was a longtime business partner and friend of Park In-hwan's.
"That friend of mine spoke of you like a god."
"He's good at exaggeration, isn't he?"
"His humor can go overboard at times, but I've never seen him exaggerate when judging people."
When Park In-hwan first laid eyes on Jang Cheon, he was startled by how young he looked. But that surprise didn't breed doubt. He recalled his conversation with Blayton's chairman.
—Who the hell is this guy you're introducing me to?
—Businessman? Fixer? Mercenary? Crisis manager? Hard to pin down, but if I had to sum it up, he's a business martial artist who makes money with his martial prowess. I hear he owns ventures worldwide.
—A Murim man in business? That's unusual.
—One of a kind. Lives in a different world from the rest of us, you might say.
—Different world?
—You'll see for yourself. What you glimpse will just be the tip of the iceberg. Even I'm only seeing the tip—and that tip alone is wider than any continent I've known. Believe me?
Blayton's chairman wasn't one to skimp on praise for others.
They'd only connected in recent years, yet such acclaim in that short time wasn't praise—it was worship.
"I invited you as a VIP to the year-end party on purpose. Seemed like the best way to handle this."
"What do you need me for?"
"I'll explain now."
Hong Tae-sik stepped forward from the side.
"We've received intelligence that there will be an assassination attempt on the chairman at this year's year-end party."
Compared to Hong Tae-sik's grave tone, as if the sky were falling, Jang Cheon remained calm.
"Where did you get this intel?"
"From our HQ internal network."
"How reliable is it?"
"We assess it as highly credible."
He answered straightforwardly, but Hong Tae-sik felt a pang of frustration. A crisis loomed over the man he served, yet as security chief, he had to bring in an outsider. It bruised his pride deeply.
Truth be told, he had Murim subordinates too. Many who passed the BST worked in security roles across society.
But this was the chairman himself—a vital figure—and the decision came from the top, so he couldn't insist on handling it alone.
"Any suspects on who's behind it?"
Park In-hwan answered instead.
"I have many enemies."
There was no fear in his voice. Nor did he take the threat lightly. He'd weathered crises growing his empire, but this was his first direct murder plot.
"Just cancel the party or skip it."
"I won't bow to threats like this."
He wouldn't have reached this room if he did.
"Fine. Who knows about this?"
"The informant who uncovered it, the intel chief, us two here—that's four. Now five with you."
They hadn't even told the security team yet. A leak would ruin the company's image and the party.
"Good call."
Jang Cheon stopped questioning and agreed readily.
"I'll take the job. But one thing first: as you may have heard, my fee is paid upfront in full."
"How much?"
"Ten million dollars."
Hong Tae-sik, who asked, was stunned. He thought he'd misheard it as ten million won at first. But no—it was clearly ten million dollars.
"That's over 100 billion won!"
Unlike the baffled Hong Tae-sik, Park In-hwan's expression didn't change. If anything, he seemed intrigued.
"Misunderstanding: this isn't for a year—just three days until the party."
Hong Tae-sik thought it outrageous even for a year.
"I know."
Jang Cheon stayed nonchalant amid the shock.
"And full upfront? How do we trust you'll deliver?"
Jang Cheon countered Hong Tae-sik's protest.
"Then how do I trust you to pay after?"
"You know who we are!"
To the indignant Hong Tae-sik, Jang Cheon turned to Park In-hwan.
"You've heard roughly about my rates from Blayton's chairman, I assume."
Park In-hwan replied to Jang Cheon's question.
"Just that you're very expensive. Is this your usual?"
"Depends on the case."
"Blayton shared a story. Something about helping African natives? You charged 19.8 million won, took four months, costs ran into billions, but you didn't bill the client extra?"
"Correct."
"Why so cheap?"
"It wasn't cheap."
"Wasn't?"
"That 19.8 million was their entire fortune. They borrowed from relatives and villagers—they're probably still paying it off."
"Then why take it at all? Pocket change to you."
"Do you really think you shouldn't have?"
Their gazes locked in the air.
Park In-hwan grasped the implication: was it right to accept the desperate sum from one staking everything, or show mercy by refusing?
At length, he smiled comfortably.
"I'm a businessman. Squeeze every penny."
"I'm in business, not charity. If you can't pay, I'll leave now."
Meanwhile, Hong Tae-sik, listening, scowled deeper. His mind went elsewhere.
If not for HT Group's chairman, it might've been mere millions—or tens of millions.
This bastard! Treating us like marks!
Park or not, curses nearly escaped.
Hong Tae-sik reined in his fury.
"There's a chance nothing happens at the party."
"But it might. That's why you called me—for that unease."
"Profiting off people's anxiety and desperation."
Jang Cheon eyed Park In-hwan.
"The man himself doesn't seem anxious or desperate."
Park In-hwan chuckled softly; Hong Tae-sik's scowl hardened.
Jang Cheon soothed Hong Tae-sik calmly.
"You're fixated on the assassination fact and blocking costs. But that's not the key."
"What do you mean?"
"Timing and place of the hit."
The unexpected point piqued even Park In-hwan's curiosity, not just Hong Tae-sik's.
"If targeting the chairman, why the year-end party? VIPs everywhere, security airtight. Easier on commutes or quieter moments."
Hong Tae-sik flinched. He'd overlooked that.
"You saying an attendee's the assassin?"
"Could be. Or not. Or a public execution. One more: hitting HT's head at Korea's flashiest party means top-tier pros. Yet intel leaked? Not dismissing HT's intel, of course."
"They leaked it on purpose?"
"Who knows. Just one possibility."
Truthfully, Park In-hwan planned to hire Jang Cheon regardless of price. It was critical, and he trusted Blayton. Sending away his personal intro over cost would insult him.
Stalling was curiosity about Jang Cheon—and giving Hong Tae-sik time to accept.
Fortunately, Jang Cheon's points filled Hong Tae-sik's blind spots, providing reason to yield.
"Forgive the earlier rudeness. Please take the job."
Park In-hwan requested of Jang Cheon, then eyed Hong Tae-sik. Longtime servant, he knew the intent instantly.
He bowed to Jang Cheon, apologizing sincerely.
"I was rude. Forgive me."
Jang Cheon glanced between them.
"Understood. I'll handle it."
"Thank you."
Jang Cheon handed over a slip with account details.
"Process through the Market. I'll cover fees."
Market.
A place called simply Market, no frills.
A multinational broker linking clients and contractors, shrouded in secrecy—even its CEO unknown.
Need a housekeeper for half a day? Or mercenaries for the world's deadliest job? Market delivers.
Hong Tae-sik called to instruct the transfer.
Moments later:
"Payment complete."
Jang Cheon checked his phone.
9,000,000 $
Market's 10% cut.
It used every legal means for seamless, traceless deals—backed by global infrastructure and capital.
Nearly 100 billion won, yet Jang Cheon was unmoved.
Hong Tae-sik couldn't hold back.
"If something happens at the party, you won't walk away unscathed either."
Park In-hwan awaited Jang Cheon's response instead of scolding. His curiosity lingered unsatisfied.
Jang Cheon met his gaze evenly.
"If I take the job and fail to protect you, it's unstoppable. Revenge falls on the plotters, not me."
"Quite the confidence."
"Don't shoot the messenger."
Hong Tae-sik scoffed, but it rang true. The culprits deserved it.
Feeling outmatched, he bit his lip. He had Murim underlings, but wasn't one himself. Still, guarding HT's chairman demanded guts and sharpshooting.
The opponent was Murim, sure—but looked a fresh-faced twenty-something. One bullet could punch his forehead.
Park In-hwan broke the tension.
"We'll leave you to rest. Long trip."
Hong Tae-sik's fire vanished instantly. His loyalty to the chairman was unmatched.
As Park In-hwan and Hong Tae-sik left, Jang Cheon poured whiskey from the side table and walked to the window.
The glittering nightscape sprawled below, but his eyes held only the cold gray dawn of the city.