Doctor Woo (1)
There was a room that looked like a hospital ward.
Five beds lined up, with a man and a woman lying side by side on two of them.
But this wasn't a hospital. The people lying there weren't patients, and the one looking down at them wasn't a doctor.
One of the two standing figures was Doctor Woo. The other was his loyal henchman, Baekdok.
Doctor Woo roughly turned the terrified woman's head this way and that, scrutinizing her face and neck. Faint spots had broken out all over.
"Damn it! Another failure."
Doctor Woo clamped down on the woman's face.
Kwak! Kwadruk!
The woman thrashed and screamed in agony as her bones crumbled, then went limp.
Doctor Woo didn't enjoy killing. He was simply disposing of failed material.
Even a potter smashing a flawed vase would feel more regret than this. The moment was utterly chilling.
Doctor Woo moved to the next bed. The man was asleep, but similar spots marred his neck and face.
"This one's a failure too."
Without a shred of mercy, he killed the man as well.
Doctor Woo had developed the unique poison PSV49 and its antidote. Now, he was working on another unique poison.
One with different properties—stronger, harder to antidote. A poison master's worth came down to the toxins they wielded, after all.
Doctor Woo turned to Baekdok beside him.
"Dump these."
"Yes, sir."
"I need fresh material."
Baekdok looked slightly troubled.
"We've already kidnapped several. It's a small town, so we have to be careful. Too many disappearances at once..."
Doctor Woo cut him off with a menacing glare.
"That's your problem. Bring them from another city, buy them, make them—whatever. Get new material by tomorrow."
"Understood."
Baekdok signaled, and subordinates outside entered to haul out the bodies from the beds. They'd melt them down in the basement poison vat.
Doctor Woo walked down the hallway to his room.
Thick curtains covered the windows. CCTV cameras monitored the building's perimeter, with henchmen patrolling in shifts.
After Im Yeon-sin's death, Doctor Woo had retreated to this small town. He was following protocol, awaiting orders from above. But there'd been no word yet.
That was the problem gnawing at him.
"This is suffocating."
He handled poisons, but he'd once been a mercenary. He wasn't the type to hole up in a basement tinkering with experiments.
He preferred roaming, gathering materials, indulging in pleasures.
But protocol demanded he stay put until orders came.
He poked his head out the hallway window and bellowed.
"Baekdok!"
"Yes?"
"Get me a woman. My type."
Baekdok, who looked a bit awkward, shouted back.
"Yes, sir!"
He knew Doctor Woo's filthy tastes well enough to respond, but it wouldn't be easy.
The boss's standards were sky-high—bring the wrong one, and it'd be a barrage of abuse. And in a backwater town like this, pretty young women weren't exactly plentiful.
Procuring test subjects was hard enough; now a beauty too? He sighed inwardly.
Baekdok headed out with his men. Fail to appease this bastard boss, and he'd end up as a puddle of venom himself.
Phone Express entered the target city.
He parked in a quiet spot and unfolded a map.
"This is our position. Head this way, then that direction."
"Good."
Phone was the expert here, so Jang Cheon followed without question.
"I'll set up the gear first."
The four-man team exited and mounted devices on the van's roof: low-profile cylinders, antennas, boxy electronics.
Painted to match the vehicle, they blended perfectly.
Once done, they climbed back in.
"Activating sensors."
Phone flipped a switch by the steering wheel. The navigation screen switched to a new map overlay.
Beep, beep, beep.
Rhythmic signals emanated, drawing expanding circles from their position.
Phone drove slowly, eyes glued to the screen.
They followed the planned route.
How long had they driven?
Beep-beep, beeeep.
The signal strengthened.
Jang Cheon and Phone exchanged nods.
As they proceeded, it grew louder.
One of the four in back checked his computer.
"Not here. Toxic waste facility behind that building."
Phone Express passed it by.
The devices were poison sensors—poison radars, detecting toxic substances.
Like a Geiger counter for radiation, but for poisons.
Of course, you had to input the target toxin.
Rare, unique ones were easier to pinpoint. Common toxins lurked everywhere in everyday materials.
Jang Cheon had learned much about poisons from Doctor Woo during their mercenary days—especially the PSV series. Mostly boasts, but he knew the key components.
When Doctor Woo went into hiding after Im Yeon-sin's death, he'd surely brought his poisons, materials, and antidotes.
"Not here either."
Phone and the team methodically swept the city, cross-referencing map and nav.
Luckily, it was a small town—not impossible to comb thoroughly.
Several hours passed.
As Phone Express cruised a quiet outskirts road—
Beeeep, beeeep-screeech!
The signal spiked—stronger than any before.
Phone drove past the strongest hit without stopping.
As they pulled away, it weakened.
"See that?"
"Yeah."
It looked ordinary. But the rundown building bristled with far more CCTV than normal.
They'd spotted it even driving by.
The researcher in back checked files.
"No poison connection."
"It's here."
"Yes, signal strength confirms."
Time for caution.
Today's goal wasn't killing Doctor Woo—it was securing the antidote for the unique poison afflicting Cheon Ha-young.
Screw up, and he might destroy it, suicide, or unleash a mass-kill toxin.
Against a poison master, care was paramount.
Jang Cheon called Bishop.
"Found the bastard."
"Boss! Send the address!"
Bishop's tone pitched up.
Jang Cheon sent the location.
"Bishop needs time to prep. We'll monitor with gear first."
Phone knocked on the back door.
"Attach surveillance."
"Yes."
Rustling came from behind.
Jang Cheon said to Phone,
"Should I handle it myself today?"
The poison master made him wary.
But Phone was firm.
"No. Let the kids build experience."
That was Phone's way. Tackle danger to hone skills.
Fail to grow, and you'd die soon anyway. The team's prowess stemmed from this philosophy.
In the side mirror, the four disembarked—work caps low, electricians' gear.
"Music?"
"Sure."
Phone hit the audio. Not the usual Bach—Beethoven's symphony today. Jang Cheon gazed at the sky outside as the powerful strains filled the van.
Silence flowed with the music.
Night's words came to mind: Silence with Phone is enjoyable. Precise, and a deep kindness to Phone.
Anyone sitting quietly with him would think the same—natural, not awkward.
Night turned Phone's excessive taciturnity into a virtue: enjoyable silence.
It explained their close bond.
Twenty minutes later, the team returned.
A large monitor lit up in back—split screen showing the target: front and rear entrances.
They rotated watch duty; others rested.
How much time passed?
"Look here."
Jang Cheon, eyes closed, turned.
A van stopped out front. People piled out.
A young woman, dragged by men, terrified despite the silent feed.
As they entered, Jang Cheon called Bishop.
"When can you cut comms?"
"Thirty minutes."
"Thirty? Tricky."
"Sorry. Local frequencies differ—setup takes time."
"Got it. We'll handle it."
"Be careful."
Just walking in risked CCTV capture.
They could wipe footage later, but simultaneous server backups might complicate things.
Seemed unlikely, but better safe.
Jang Cheon hung up, pondered, then had an idea. He mimed swiping his face up and down.
"Got spares?"
"Yes."
"One."
Phone knocked on the back. A team member handed over a small bag. Jang Cheon unzipped it, telling Phone,
"Park up front."
"Yes."
The van stopped before the building.
Jang Cheon stepped out, sword dangling, strode inside.
CCTV? Ignored.
"Huh? What was that?"
One guard looked up.
"What?"
Dozens of monitors displayed CCTV feeds.
The guard rewound the entrance cam.
A figure appeared. He paused.
"What the—?"
Jang Cheon—face obscured by a gas mask.
"Shit!"
"Warn them!"
One leaped up, yanked the door—
Hurk!
Jang Cheon already stood there, masked.
As the man drew a poison-coated dagger from his sleeve—
Shf!
A razor-straight sword flash cleaved the air. A death line for the foe.
The second reached for the alarm—
Ping! Puk!
A shuriken pinned his hand.
"Guh!"
As he clutched it reflexively—
Another sword flash. A diagonal gash down his back; he crumpled.
Jang Cheon opened the door. Outside, Phone and the team waited—full gas masks, hazmat suits, like disease control from a disaster flick.
They entered, analyzing computers, yanking drives.
While they worked, Jang Cheon scanned screens.
Enemy positions flickered across splitscreens. CCTV briefly aided him. Enough.
Still masked, he slipped out quietly.