Which Report Will You Believe? (2)
Shwaaaaa!
Rain poured down.
Night stood on the terrace, gazing up at it. He'd loved rain since he was a boy.
As a kid, he enjoyed wandering around getting soaked; as an adult, he savored watching it fall.
Staring at the downpour brought thoughts of coffee, liquor, and the first love he'd lost long ago.
Someone spoke from behind him.
"President Seo is waiting, sir. This is your last schedule of the day."
It was SG1.
SGC Company had ten team leaders, from SG1 to SG10. SG1 was Night's dedicated top agent, always accompanying him at public events.
"Sir, you look tired. Should we reschedule today's appointment?"
"No. Just give me ten minutes alone."
"Understood."
It happened occasionally, so SG1 withdrew all the guards from the area.
Left alone to watch the rain, Night heard footsteps approaching from behind. Assuming it was SG1, he said,
"Not even a minute's passed yet."
"That's a relief, then. Means I get to spend those ten minutes with you."
Night whipped around in surprise. Jang Cheon stood there.
Night's eyes widened in shock. He never imagined seeing Jang Cheon here.
"Boss?"
"Night."
Jang Cheon shook the two cans of beer in his hands.
"Felt like having a drink together."
Still stunned, Night asked,
"Is it safe to show yourself like this?"
"Bishop's got the nearby CCTV under control. Ten minutes should be fine."
Everything else had been scoped out by Jang Cheon in advance. If he couldn't sense a presence at a distance, they couldn't spot him either.
"Boss, I've really missed you."
Night strode forward and enveloped Jang Cheon in a bear hug. Jang Cheon hugged him back just as firmly. Thoughts of Night always brought a pang of guilt.
"I dumped a heavy responsibility on you and couldn't even help. Sorry."
"No need. We should each do what we're best at. I love my job."
"Glad you see it that way. Thanks."
Jang Cheon handed over a beer. They cracked the cans and toasted. Standing up, sipping canned beer—it was worth more than any lavish feast.
The falling rain made for the perfect side dish.
"Heard you might be calling in Queen this time?"
"Word reached you that fast?"
"We've got our hot-blooded reporter and die-hard fan, you know."
The hot-blooded reporter was Bishop, who stayed in constant touch with everyone due to his role. He was always the source of Jang Cheon rumors.
The die-hard fan was Phone, Queen's biggest admirer.
"Phone likes Queen more than me."
"I doubt that."
"Can't say for sure."
"Haha."
They laughed together.
"Yeah, thinking of calling her this time."
"Good call."
Night knew it wasn't because Korea's troubles were mounting. It was purely to resolve things between them personally.
Shwaaaaa!
They watched the rain in silence for a moment.
"You once said killing is easy, saving is easy. The hard part is making the judgment."
"Still true."
"Didn't get it back then, but now I do."
It wasn't just a Murim issue—it applied to business too.
In business, rivals inevitably popped up as obstacles. Even with the power to crush them, you couldn't always do it.
"Night."
"Boss."
"This time, I'm planning to clean up the past once and for all, one way or another."
Night smiled at Jang Cheon. His ever-friendly face made it hard to tell when he was truly happy.
But those who knew him well could see it. Right now, in this moment, Night was genuinely thrilled.
"Smart move. We're still young—gotta look forward, not back."
"Plenty ahead of us."
"You know I'm a workaholic. The more work, the better."
"Hahaha."
Jang Cheon laughed heartily, in high spirits.
The precious ten minutes passed. Jang Cheon picked up his empty can and vanished the way he'd come.
"See you later."
"Take care of your health, Boss."
"You too."
Soon after, SG1 entered through the same door Jang Cheon had used.
"Shall we go, sir?"
He'd crossed paths with Jang Cheon exactly, yet hadn't spotted him.
Considering SG1's prowess as the company's top martial artist, it spoke volumes about Jang Cheon's ethereal footwork.
"You looked beat earlier, but you seem refreshed now."
"Haha, the rain washed away my fatigue. Let's head out."
Moments later, Night climbed into the car with SG1. SGC's fleet of hulking armored SUVs pulled away.
"The name Makalu comes from the Sanskrit 'Maha Kala,' another name for Shiva, the god of destruction."
The Sherpa leading the way carried no gear. He was purely a guide.
Following was a white-haired old gentleman in a pristine white suit.
The impeccably pressed suit looked utterly out of place for scaling the Himalayas.
Yet it suited the snowy landscape. Not because of his white hair or suit.
It was the mountain-like gaze only someone who'd weathered life's storms could possess.
"Not cold?"
"I'm fine."
The simple Sherpa figured the opposite: with that outfit, the old man had nothing to worry about.
"From here, you climb alone. You remember the path?"
"Don't worry—head back. Thanks for your hard work."
After sending the Sherpa away, the old gentleman ascended solo. His steps quickened.
At Makalu's summit stood a woman.
Clad in a snow-white martial robe, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Born to a Western father and Eastern mother, she embodied the stereotype of stunning mixed-race beauty.
Her captivating eyes drew you in, her silky black hair flowed smoothly, and her gentle Eastern features blended seamlessly with her Western figure, radiating unmatched allure.
She was Queen of Jang Cheon's organization.
Fierce winds howled around her, yet not a breeze stirred near her.
"Miss."
She turned at the voice behind her, smiling warmly.
Unlike Night, she rarely smiled. This was a rare treat for the few close to her.
"Ben!"
"Miss."
The white-haired gentleman was Ben, her family's longtime butler.
"You should've called—I'd have come down."
Her voice was clear and resonant, carrying a depth that pierced the soul.
"I can still manage this much easily."
She poured hot tea from the thermos by a nearby rock.
"It's cold—have some."
"I'm all right."
Now, no wind touched Ben either. The aura enveloping her extended to him.
"Drink, Ben."
"Thank you. Now you're the one looking after me."
"You've done it for thirty years. I've barely hit three. Took me too long to wise up."
"Makes me a bit jealous. You could afford to mature even later."
"Ben, overprotection isn't good."
"Haha. The tea's excellent."
Ben smiled contentedly. His eyes fell on Queen's massive sword planted nearby.
It was too large and imposing for a woman's blade. Like Jang Cheon's sword, the hilt was worn from training and battle.
"Tournament prep done?"
"Yes."
"Confident?"
"No matter who shows."
Her confident smile said the rest.
Ben asked cautiously,
"In touch with Mr. Jang?"
Mr. Jang meant Jang Cheon. Ben served Queen's family, not the organization, so he used the formal address.
At the mention, complex emotions flickered across Queen's face.
Ben pretended not to notice.
"Heard Mr. Jang's been busy. In Korea lately?"
Queen gazed at the distant snow-capped peaks, changing the subject.
"Ben, do you know why I'm pushing to get stronger?"
"Why?"
"To open a door. The door to that man's heart. He's sealed it shut.
He won't let anyone new in. Won't risk loving again, blaming himself for failing those he once protected."
"Overcoming past wounds isn't easy."
"Yes. That's why I need true strength. So he won't have to protect me. Maybe then his door will open?"
Ben said nothing. Reading his deepened gaze, Queen asked,
"Am I wrong?"
"Not sure myself."
"Something even you don't know?"
"Haha, plenty. Things that seemed clear in youth grow murkier with age—more confusing."
Ben finished the remaining tea from the thermos lid and screwed it shut.
"This lid twists open and closed. But yank it without knowing how, and it won't budge.
Force it too hard, and it breaks. Maybe your bond with Mr. Jang is similar."
Queen sighed softly.
"You're right. No matter how strong I get... he might never open up."
Gazing at her steadily, Ben smiled gently.
"Miss. Do you know why?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you think Mr. Jang pushes to grow stronger?"
"To forget the past, probably."
"Is that all?"
Ben added calmly,
"Maybe now he truly wants to protect someone properly?"
Queen fell silent. She couldn't read Jang Cheon's heart.
To lighten the mood, Ben teased,
"Oh, rumor has it Mr. Jang's been seen around a beautiful young lady in Korea lately. Not curious who?"
Queen smiled faintly.
"Tell her I root for her. Opening that man's heart alone is too daunting."
"Hahaha."
Ben's laughter faded as he grew serious.
"Got a call from Mr. Jang."
"To you?"
"Invited me to Korea. Sent two plane tickets—means you too. Time to make up."
"Everyone thinks we fought..."
"Didn't you?"
Queen flashed an enigmatic smile, then asked brightly,
"Ben, ever been to Korea?"
"No."
"Good. After the tournament, we'll go together."
"Haha, wise choice. I'll prepare and wait."
"Take care going down."
Queen watched Ben descend, then extended her hand. Her massive sword yanked free from the ground far off and flew to her grasp.
Gripping it, her aura shifted completely.
The warm smile for Ben vanished. She evoked Shiva, god of destruction—icy, regal, exuding untouchable dignity. Yet she remained stunningly beautiful.
Just then, Ben turned midway down and shouted,
"Oh, Miss—the tickets are for the day after the finals. Mr. Jang's way of cheering your victory."
As his words ended, Queen's form shot skyward. In a flash, she vanished from sight.