Death (3)
Lee Dong-hyeok arrived with a security team of eight.
Sometimes, showing was more effective than telling when convincing a client—especially regarding security teams.
These agents looked sharp, photogenic even, the kind that made for a striking visual.
Moreover, the male and female operatives he'd brought were exceptional in both appearance and skill.
Tall, handsome, beautiful—they were the perfect billboard models for the company.
The team was split evenly: half Murim warriors, half regular agents.
Naturally, hiring martial artists cost more than standard agents.
But clients didn't always prefer warriors exclusively.
In fact, more often requested regular agents. Cost aside, plenty feared having martial artists around.
"We have several special protection packages tailored for celebrities. Take a look here."
Lee Dong-hyeok's prepared pamphlet detailed everything.
"All packages include strict confidentiality clauses, of course."
"SGC's been hot lately, huh."
When Park Gwang-cheol casually brought it up, Lee Dong-hyeok smiled and replied.
"It's a fine company, but the media hypes them up a lot. Haha."
Lee Dong-hyeok chuckled awkwardly, and Park Gwang-cheol backed him up.
"Exactly. Just like Big Show Entertainment. Media plays and such—they hit it off perfectly."
"Hahaha."
Lee Dong-hyeok burst out laughing at Park Gwang-cheol's frank words.
'This guy's probably being played by that Jang Cheon fellow.'
Park Gwang-cheol just seemed too distant from any scheming.
"We also have VIP protection for executives like yourself.
Other firms do two-person shifts, but we prioritize quality with three-shift rotations as standard.
Luxury set with two per team, premium with three, super premium with four—you pick what suits you.
Or customize the number of agents and hours directly."
"Quite the variety."
Park Gwang-cheol flipped through the pamphlet, impressed.
"No matter your choice, safety is guaranteed. But from the outside, one agent versus two makes a different impression. For business folks like you, image matters, right?"
"Of course. Sometimes it's everything."
"For someone of your stature, Park, at least the premium set to maintain that dignity, don't you think?"
"Sounds good, but the price tag's no joke."
"Headquarters delivers top-tier service no one else in Korea can match.
Skimp anywhere else, but not on safety. And compared to SGC, our rates are quite reasonable."
Though their motives differed, the two flowed naturally into business talk.
Meanwhile, the It Girls arrived at the company. The seven fresh-faced beauty idols lit up the room instantly.
"Hello, boss!"
"Come on in. Say hi to the security agents. They might be protecting you girls soon."
The It Girls lined up and bowed neatly.
"Hello! We're It Girls!"
The agents were caught off guard by the sudden entrance.
The girls circled around, greeting everyone energetically.
One agent was a die-hard uncle fan who knew not just their names but hobbies too. The mood soared.
"You all look amazing!"
"Do you carry guns too?"
"I wanted to be a bodyguard when I was little!"
"Ever guarded the president?"
Park Gwang-cheol had instructed them to act friendly upon arrival.
But it wasn't necessary. Seven girls together turned the place into cheerful chaos.
The agents, seeing their TV idols up close, were thrilled and a bit dazed.
Jang Cheon had summoned them to drag out the time as long as possible.
The meeting might end early, and Lee Dong-hyeok might head home—better safe.
Plus, this atmosphere loosened tongues, revealing true colors. Jang Cheon watched Lee Dong-hyeok and the warriors closely.
He spotted one. Far superior to the others, hiding his skill. His colleagues hadn't noticed.
Likely Lee Dong-hyeok's personal guard.
Why hide that level of power for escort duty?
Unthinkable for a normal executive. Better to appoint him team leader for proper protection.
Especially for a security firm CEO.
Im Yeon-sin had one such shadow before.
If their organization assigned elites like this to business fronts? Lee Dong-hyeok was likely one too.
Demonstrating protection for seven girls ate up time. With a break from events, the It Girls were buzzing.
One approached Jang Cheon—the prettiest, most innocent-looking among them.
"Um, oppa, are you an agent from Guardian Camp too?"
"Not me."
Disappointment flickered across her face.
"Then you're the boss's protector?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, got it. Guess I'll see you around a lot?"
Joy replaced the regret. Pure, emotions plain on her sleeve.
As she turned to leave, she paused.
"Do you know my name?"
"Seol-yeon."
His stellar memory recalled all their names. Her face lit up at his answer.
"Oppa, you're so handsome! Totally my type!"
Seol-yeon dashed back to her group, giggling with them.
Hwa-ran spoke from beside Jang Cheon.
"Leaders are leaders, huh."
"Pardon?"
"She's It Girls' leader. Prettiest, smartest. Great taste in guys too. She'd succeed solo later."
Jang Cheon smirked. Things might've gotten awkward if it continued, but luckily, Phone called.
"Too many guarding Lee Dong-hyeok's house. Couldn't get in."
Guards at an empty house? Suspicious.
"Did an external explosive detection test instead."
"Results?"
"Way above normal levels. High chance of hidden explosives."
Im Yeon-sin's house had bombs too. The organization eliminated him via structural signal.
Same here.
"Bastards."
Villains or not, planting bombs in a subordinate's home to silence him? Devilish.
Now Jang Cheon had two enemies identified.
Guardian Camp's Lee Dong-hyeok and the man in the photo hiring Big Cat.
Ending the call with Phone, Jang Cheon rang Bishop. Bishop shared good news first.
"Boss. Surveillance satellite's ours starting tomorrow."
The one Bishop bought for 350 billion won.
Not omnipotent—setup time, weather, regional limits persisted.
But versus rentals? Like gaining wings.
"Perfect timing. Good foresight."
"Huh?"
"Lee Dong-hyeok's with their organization."
"Knew it."
"Focus surveillance on him. Don't miss contact with the photo guy."
"Got it."
Heading back to the residence, Jang Cheon veered toward the city outskirts.
An hour north, he parked at an abandoned factory, long shuttered.
Eerie energy hung in the air.
As Jang Cheon stepped out, another car arrived. Death emerged, baseball cap pulled low.
He'd tailed Jang Cheon from Park Enter, detected and lured here.
"Knew I was tailing you, huh."
Death hadn't planned a fair fight initially. Sneak to his place, night ambush.
But Jang Cheon noticed and headed outskirts.
Seeing him leave downtown, Death realized. Considered retreating but followed the provocation.
Death scanned with raised qi. No other presences.
"Know who I am?"
Jang Cheon shook his head. Cold sneer curled Death's lips.
"Cocky confidence. Luring me here blind."
"You tailed me knowing who I am?"
"Jang Cheon. Passed BST at eight, martial prodigy. Single-handedly wiped out Gwang-sa-mun."
"Did your homework."
Death removed his cap, as if introducing himself.
Jang Cheon recognized him.
"James Hwang. World Integrated Martial Tournament champion."
"You know me."
Yet Jang Cheon showed no tension.
'Knows who I am and still relaxed?'
Death probed his qi again. Vague, shifting from initial feel.
Still, Death stayed composed. Even with Real Championship, he was world champ.
No losing one-on-one.
"Seen me fight?"
"Yes."
"Figured."
Death inwardly relaxed. If from his matches, manageable.
"Judging from mosaic tournament footage? Big mistake."
His true power exceeded public displays.
"Not that tournament."
"Ah, prior ones? European Grand? Asia Blood? Explains the bravado."
Even better—his skill surged last three years.
Jang Cheon slowly shook his head.
"Haven't seen those either."
"Then where'd you see me fight?"
Jang Cheon's reply stunned him.
"Real Championship."
"What?"
Death froze, speechless from shock.
"You fought me there?"
No memory of Jang Cheon. But disguises allowed, maybe past three years.
"No."
"Then how? Only organizers and gamblers watch others."
Jang Cheon said nothing.
Death flinched.
'No way? A gambler?'
Too young for gambler. Required immense wealth, handpicked by strict organizers.
Not even heirs qualified solely on blood.
Organizers shrouded in mystery, like market owners.
Day's enigmas paled to night's: Real Championship host.
Thoughts raced.
Face twisted in confusion, Death demanded.
"Who the hell are you?"
"You said it. Jang Cheon, passed BST at eight."
Death bellowed.
"Not that! Your real identity!"
Jang Cheon drew his sword slowly.
"Should've checked before tailing to kill me."
At that moment, a sleek new Phone Express pulled up at the factory entrance.