Chapter 177
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 177
Chapter Title: Chaos
Two police officers parked their patrol car in front of the Palsung Tech Gapyeong warehouse facility and headed toward the main gate. A guard post stood at the entrance, but no guard was in sight.
Sergeant Park walked up beside the post, peeked inside, and spoke up.
"Good work out here. We got a report... Huh?"
The guard post was completely empty.
"Where'd he go?"
The guard who'd originally been stationed there had been nabbed by pistol-packing mercenaries when they burst in and dragged off inside.
The mercenary who'd stolen the guard's uniform and taken his place got caught after Na Gang-in booted him.
Afterward, the original guard had come back with his fellow employees, tied up the unconscious merc, and hauled him inside.
Which meant the post was empty now. The staff had already cleared away the pistol that'd been shot up.
Sergeant Park was stumped.
"This is tricky. What now..."
The patrol officer beside him piped up.
"Should we just head out?"
"We got called about a fight breaking out inside—how could we just leave? Let's go in and find some people."
Yang Yong-jun had reported a fierce firefight, but neither officer bought it.
If a battle like that had gone down for real, calls would've poured in from all over. Yet only Yang Yong-jun had reported it.
Still, he insisted he was inside the warehouse. No matter how fishy it sounded, they had to check it out.
The pair ventured inside. Sergeant Park rounded the corner of the warehouse building and grumbled.
"People who make prank calls and file false reports deserve at least a fine..."
The patrol officer walking alongside grabbed Sergeant Park's arm.
"H-Hold on."
"What?"
"Over there..."
Sergeant Park whipped his head toward where the officer was pointing and jolted in shock.
"Wha—? Huh? What the—!"
Ten mercenaries lay sprawled in the warehouse front yard, bound and out cold. Bloodstains splattered the ground.
"G-Gunshot wounds?"
The merc from the guard post had passed out from a chin shot without bleeding. But most of these guys had bullet holes.
"G-Guns too!"
Pistols littered the ground around the ten downed men, clutched in several hands. One guy even gripped a submachine gun.
The officers' faces drained of color.
"Armed insurgents?"
"Terrorists!"
They reached for their holsters—but no pistols. They'd rushed straight from patrol after the call, guns left behind.
All they had were batons and tasers.
"Sh-Screw this."
"Wh-What do we do?"
"Gotta bail before they spot us..."
The employee with the submachine gun twisted his head and clocked them.
"Hey? Cops!"
Their faces went ghost-white, like they'd been dusted with flour.
"Taser?"
"We'll die. Surrender and wait for backup..."
A familiar voice cut in from the side.
"Hey? Sergeant Park!"
Sergeant Park spun around.
The warehouse manager was striding their way.
Sergeant Park stuttered.
"M-M-Manager? You got nabbed too?"
"Huh? What're you..."
The manager barked orders at the pistol-wielding staff.
"Hey! Pointing guns at cops like that? You'll get pinched. Lower 'em now."
He turned to Sergeant Park with an apologetic nod.
"Our guys and Team Leader Yang were just holding them in case any stragglers were left. Self-defense—cut us some slack."
"Em, employees?"
Sergeant Park scanned the scene anew.
The pistol-holders had all pointed muzzles down. One even popped out his magazine and called out.
"Everyone, eject magazines. Last thing we need is a negligent discharge handing guns back to the cops."
"Safeties'll do."
Sergeant Park started picking up on the vibe.
"If those are your staff... who're the shot ones?"
The manager scowled.
"Oh, those assholes? Real scum. They stormed the warehouse today."
"Even so, blasting people like..."
The warehouse crew were the ones packing heat now. Sergeant Park asked carefully.
"But where'd all those guns come from? And so many..."
"Snatched 'em right from those pricks."
"You mean they came in guns blazing... and your people took down all ten and grabbed their weapons?"
The manager chuckled and waved it off.
"Nah, wasn't us. Special ops guy showed up and bagged the whole lot."
The magazine-ejecting employee wandered over, piping up.
"Manager, I say not military—intelligence operative. Spy, technically."
"Hey! Calling your lifesaver a spy? That's cold!"
"No, who said spy? 'Spy' ain't a slur."
"Spies are spies."
"I mean... what's 'spy' in Korean?"
"Spy."
"Too harsh... Ah! Intelligence agent! That's the word."
Sergeant Park eased up, listening to their back-and-forth.
"Phew. So this special agent guy plugged all these..."
His phone buzzed. He picked up.
"Yes, Team Leader."
- Hey, Joint Investigation HQ wants cooperation. Government agent's at that warehouse, nabbed some robbers by chance. You check it?
"Robbers?"
Sergeant Park ambled toward Anderson's crew.
"Caught 'em, but..."
- Why? Hurt robbers?
"Shot."
The team leader freaked.
- Huh? What?
"Two shots each at least? Damn. Even agents shouldn't shoulder-pop like that. I struggle to hit the target's black."
- Hey! Hold up! What the hell? Accidental discharge? Real shooting? Reckless as hell, whoever he is!
"Well..."
- Who got shot? Not staff, right?
"Robbers."
- Whew, thank God...
"But not just one."
- How many?
"Nearly ten..."
- Gah!
The joint investigation detective sensed the incident's scale was way off before even arriving. Police lights flashed everywhere near the target.
"Uh... this ain't just a warehouse heist? Givin' me the chills."
Joint HQ called too.
- Warehouse robbery, right?
"Uh... not?"
- Station we tapped keeps hounding for confirmation—we gotta know to reply! What's the deal?
"Arriving soon. I'll report after eyes-on."
He sped to the scene.
He checked the chaos inside firsthand.
A groan slipped out.
"Aigoo, Mr. Na Gang-in. Just nabbed a few robbers, huh."
A cop poking the van yelled.
"Explosives in the van! Tons!"
"Fall back! No touching till bomb squad rolls in!"
Shouts erupted from Warehouse 4.
"Missiles!"
"Missiles where?!"
"Dunno! But high-tech guided ones!"
"Pull back! Hands off Warehouse 4 too!"
The joint detective slapped a palm over his face amid the pandemonium.
"Hoo. How's this a simple robbery? Total warzone."
Shin Eun-ha got Na Gang-in's call as she left Restaurant Penelope.
"So you ain't coming?"
- Sorry. Things heated up.
Na Gang-in was en route to the hospital with Kwon Soo-yeon.
Shin Eun-ha blurted.
"Hold on—not hurt?"
- Nothing like that.
"Figures. Gang-in oppa'd need like ten guys piling on with guns to even scratch him."
- Uh... yeah?
Anderson's bunch had been exactly that size.
"What about the reservation?"
- Cancel it'd bum Chef O out. Call a friend.
"Tch. Fine, I'll sort it. Payment then? Prepaid?"
- Not there, you call friends—you foot it?
A curse nearly flew out.
"You son of a..."
- Sorry.
Na Gang-in hung up fast.
She chucked her phone on the table.
"Fuck. Thought today'd be special."
She'd figured his Penelope dinner invite was a date. Now solo dining.
"Dunno the mess, but guy's untouchable."
She cracked her knuckles, propped her chin, gazed out the window.
"Was pumped..."
Na Gang-in brought Kwon Soo-yeon to the major hospital where Lee Jung-ho headed surgery.
Yulmyeong Bio president Kwon Dong-jin had arrived early and waited. He rushed over as she stepped from the car.
"Soo-yeon!"
Kwon Soo-yeon apologized exiting.
"Dad, sorry. Freaked you out?"
"Nah. You're safe—that's what matters. And..."
Kwon Dong-jin turned to Na Gang-in.
"Th-Thanks."
Kwon Soo-yeon leaned a hand on the car, cocking her head faintly.
"Dad's weirdly wary of Gang-in."
"Huh? N-No, just rusty. Rusty."
Surgical director Lee Jung-ho approached.
"Checks first. This way."
Kwon Soo-yeon could walk now. Lee Jung-ho led her off.
Kwon Dong-jin paused before following, bowing to Na Gang-in.
"Thanks. For saving Soo-yeon."
"Wasn't that risky."
Kwon Dong-jin still clueless on details.
"Yeah? Good it wasn't dicey."
The joint investigation chief sighed.
"Ten gun-toting armed robbers, shootout, van loaded with explosives and flammables, top-shelf anti-tank missile?"
"Yes."
"Hoo. Why's Na Gang-in always tangled in this crap?"
No one knew. Chief hadn't expected an answer.
Another exec asked.
"Anti-tank missile in a warehouse—not an armory?"
Another replied.
"Palsung Tech's in on new anti-tank missile R&D. Got it for tests, stashed in company warehouse when issues cropped up."
"Stash a missile in a warehouse?"
"Test model, no warhead. Warehouse is secure facility... somehow it happened."
"That fly?!"
The explainer bristled.
"Why snap at me? Just passing Palsung's excuse!"
"Not snapping... it's maddening. Stuck cleaning up again."
"Yeah, same. Na Gang-in's excessive. Like the chem-weapon jewel crew—wish he'd looped us in."
"Right. Report bad guys, don't solo 'em."
A police exec jumped in.
"Na Gang-in went hunting a friend whose call dropped suddenly—blissfully unaware. Ran into 'em by chance. Hardly his fault."
"True, but..."
"And without him, everyone there today'd be dead. Missile gone too."
"I know! Know! Hence no bitching—just frustrating!"
The joint detective stuck around for the probe.
Local precinct and provincial HQ handled it. Joint HQ caught it first, so he pitched in.
Eyeing the scene.
"Dude really went nuclear."
His teammate sidled up.
"No kidding—mowed 'em down. Who's the guy?"
Joint folks juggled day jobs plus. Swamped.
He'd called backup figuring solo was nuts.
"Who d'you think?"
"Wait—not again..."
"Yup."
"Rough."
"What? Check the scale. Dragged you cuz I can't solo."
"Harsh. Ain't even official joint."
"Lucky you. Not drafted like me."
They checked Warehouse 4.
"Whoa, bro—real anti-tank missile. Design ain't military-issue."
"Homegrown new-gen. KARI and locals co-dev. Pre-prod, but launch-ready now. Their prize."
"Safe just sitting?"
"Armed guard. Retrieval team's inbound."
Two cops stood by the missile.
Detective eyed it.
"They snag this, would've been bad."
"Understatement."