Chapter 38
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Past Its Prime?
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Scene.38 Past Its Prime?
The characters, events, and places in this story are fictional creations for the purpose of the novel and may differ from reality.
Scene.38
Past Its Prime?
The brief, awkward atmosphere dissipated as food began to be served at the tables.
As a colorful array of dishes was laid out, the attendees’ eyes sparkled in unison.
The actors’ reactions were positive, but cheers erupted from the production team.
People often looked on with envy when they heard about overseas filming, thinking it was a free trip, but they didn't know the first thing about it.
In reality, leaving Korea meant working twice, even three times as hard. Trivial matters back home could become major headaches that disrupted filming schedules abroad.
While the actors were at least provided with decent accommodation and food, the production team could hardly expect such luxuries. Cramped lodgings were one thing, but on days when the food didn't agree with them, they were forced into an involuntary diet.
That was why experienced crew members always packed essentials like kimchi, gochujang, instant noodles, and even instant rice for their overseas shoots.
“I think this will be the first and last time in my life I’m on a set like this.”
When someone offered this solemn assessment of the situation, everyone nodded in agreement.
Choi Pil-yeon, who had been fiddling with his smartphone, seemingly waiting for someone, quickly answered when it vibrated.
“This is Choi Pil-yeon from TNT. Ah, you’ve arrived. Yes. Where are you?”
Choi Pil-yeon looked around as he spoke on the phone. Then, he spotted someone, waved, and hurried over.
“Section Chief Park Gyu-hyeon? This is Choi Pil—whoa!”
Choi Pil-yeon stumbled back in surprise mid-introduction.
Behind Section Chief Park Gyu-hyeon, a massive Black man had appeared, accompanied by an entourage of equally formidable individuals.
Startled by Choi Pil-yeon’s reaction, Park Gyu-hyeon glanced behind him and, equally surprised, quickly stepped aside.
Fearing trouble, Deputy Kim Byeong-seok stuck close to Lee Jae-eun, forming a defensive line to prevent any potential confrontations.
The man, who looked to be at least two meters tall with an overwhelming build, wore a gold chain, earrings, and chunky gold rings on his fingers. This ‘suspected boss’ tapped Park Gyu-hyeon on the shoulder and walked past him.
“Bak-kyu. Thank you.”
‘This bastard’s been doing this since earlier! It’s not Bak-kyu, it’s Park Gyu-hyeon!’
“Not Bak-kyu. My name is Park Gyu-hyeon.”
“Brother Bak-kyu?”
“Park. Gyu. Hyeon.”
“Ok. I got it. Brother Bak-kyu.”
At the exchange between Park Gyu-hyeon and the Black man, Kim Byeong-seok and Lee Jae-eun couldn't hold back their laughter.
Their amusement made Park Gyu-hyeon’s face flush red, his expression filled with regret for ever introducing himself.
If he had known the man’s pronunciation was this bad, he would have just pretended not to know him.
But as if noticing his contorted expression, the man stopped and spoke again.
“Brother Bak-kyu. Are you alright?”
“It’s not Brother Bak-kyu… Ah, fuck. Fine, if you can’t pronounce it, whatever. Call me what you want. Ok. No problem.”
“What? Nigger?”
The Black man, who had been smiling as he passed, now glared fiercely at Park Gyu-hyeon, his friendly demeanor vanishing in an instant.
“What? No. No. *Niga*!”
“Are you crazy?”
“Ah… damn it. Korean language. *Niga*. English word. You! Or you’re. Understand?”
“Ah—Korean language. Ok. I got it. Cultural differences.”
“Right. Cultural differences. So, can you just go now? Go. You first.”
“Ok. Good.”
He looked like a man of few words, but he was ridiculously talkative. What a mess to get into just from a simple greeting.
He should have just ignored him from the start, whether he called him Bak-kyu or Fuck-kyu.
After trying to correct his pronunciation a few times, he had now been promoted from ‘Bak-kyu’ to ‘Brother Bak-kyu.’
“See you again. Brother Bak-kyu.”
‘You damn black bastard who can't even pronounce my name. See you again? Just get on your way!’
The man nodded with a smile and started walking again.
The dinner guests, who had been enjoying pleasant conversation, all fell silent at the unexpected arrival.
A group of men who were clearly not ordinary, exuding an aura of the underworld, had just swarmed in.
Kang Man-dong, with a look of, ‘Huh? What’s going on…?’ turned his head.
“Marcos?”
“Don Karman. It’s been a long time.”
The Black man, with a rugged face, gold accessories, and a custom-tailored suit, bowed politely to Kang Man-dong. The hulking figures behind him followed suit, greeting Kang Man-dong as well.
“Marcos, what are you doing here…?”
“He heard you were showing off your skills for the first time in a while and said I should come have dinner…”
“Camu did?”
“Yes.”
“Hah, that kid. Always doing things he’s not asked to.”
Kang Man-dong didn't seem entirely pleased by Marcos’s appearance. He wasn't the right kind of guest for a day like today.
“Well, if Camu invited you, I can’t do anything about it. Not here, over there. I’ll have a separate table set up for you in front of the main house’s kitchen. You can eat there before you go.”
“Thank you, Don Karman.”
Marcos grinned brightly, showing his pearly white teeth as if to express his gratitude for the permission.
“By the way, where is Camu?”
“His clothes got torn. He went to change. He’ll be down soon.”
“Understood. I’ll be on my way.”
As Marcos and his group disappeared toward the backyard of the main house, Kang Man-dong waved his hand at the guests as if it were nothing.
“They’re from the Malta Merchants’ Association. They might look a bit rough, but they’re legitimate businessmen, so there’s no need to worry.”
At Kang Man-dong’s words, people looked relieved, though their expressions still held a hint of disbelief.
Nearly two meters tall. Muscles that looked ready to burst from an enormous frame. And on top of that, gaudy gold jewelry clashing with their suits.
They looked exactly like ‘those guys’ from foreign movies.
“Hey, I’m telling you it’s not like that. You’re probably judging them by their size and how they dress. That guy just has strange taste. I keep telling him to dress normally, but he never listens.”
CP Yu Han-seong cautiously opened his mouth at Kang Man-dong’s explanation.
“But why are they here…?”
“You all came in limousines earlier, right?”
“Yes.”
“My friend over there lent them to us. He runs a big rental business here. Camu invited him for a meal to say thanks. So, don’t worry about it and just relax.”
“Ah…”
Only after Kang Man-dong’s explanation did everyone’s expression change to, ‘Oh, is that all it was? We were worried for nothing.’ The briefly subdued atmosphere at the tables quickly returned to its lively state.
*
After changing his clothes, Camu came downstairs and met Marcos, who was waiting in the kitchen.
The term ‘Capo,’ which Liong, the limousine driver, had used, wasn't just a playful word.
It was short for Caporegime, a rank for a captain in the mafia, and it was their code word for needing to meet and talk. Normally, he would have said there was no rush and they could meet later, but the message that he was about to forget his face prompted him to summon him to the farm.
“You’re here.”
“Oh, Camu. How have you been?”
Marcos greeted him warmly, like an old friend.
“Let’s talk in the study.”
“Everyone wait here. Don’t cause any trouble.”
“Yes, boss.”
Following Camu into the second-floor study, Marcos shed his playful demeanor and adopted a respectful attitude, as if addressing a superior.
"Sit."
"Yes, Professor."
Marcos took a small device out of his pocket. It was an anti-eavesdropping device.
“It’s safe here.”
“I’m aware, but regulations are regulations.”
When Camu gave a nod of permission, Marcos turned on the device and placed it on the desk. Then, he began to speak, as if intrigued by the situation outside.
“Filming a drama at the farm…”
“Special Agent. John.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Just the main point.”
Cutting him off as if he had no interest in small talk, the president of the merchants’ association, Marcos—or more accurately, John Marcos, the acting chief of the CIA’s Mediterranean branch—straightened his posture.
“A rather difficult situation has arisen.”
“Difficult?”
Yu-hyeon looked at Marcos, questioning what he meant.
“Ahem. Well…”
Marcos hesitated, clearing his throat several times with a troubled expression, unable to get the words out.
At Marcos’s behavior, Yu-hyeon’s expression gradually hardened.
“Don’t tell me my information has been leaked to the outside.”
At Yu-hyeon’s words, Marcos bowed his head as if he had no excuse to offer.
“This is absurd.”
“…”
“Did I ask for something difficult from the United States?”
“…”
“When was it?”
“We haven’t been able to pinpoint the exact date, but…”
“Stop dragging it out and speak clearly!”
“We’ve confirmed it was at least a week ago.”
“How far?”
“Sir?”
“How far did the leak go!”
“That the investment firm for the technology patent management company is KM Investment…”
At Marcos’s answer, Yu-hyeon looked at him as if he were pathetic.
“Professor. I have no excuse.”
“How much of KM’s information has gotten out?”
“It doesn’t seem the shareholder list was leaked. If it had been…”
“Gun-toting madmen would have shown up here by now. Or pests would have appeared, whining to get a piece of the pie. They would have figured it’s easier and better to mess with me than to take on the Vatican, Saudi Arabia, or the United States.”
“…”
“Since they wouldn’t have found non-existent information externally, the leak must have come from the U.S. government or the CIA.”
“That has not yet been confirmed…”
“Hey. Marcos.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Do you think a 20% stake in KM Investment is a joke?”
“No, sir.”
“This is the next-generation energy business. It’s not a business that just feeds a single city or a specific country!”
“I am aware.”
“Was what I asked for so difficult to uphold?”
“…”
“If, by any chance, there are any problems with my daily life here, or if a swarm of flies appears, the contract with the United States is automatically void.”
“Professor!”
“The only reason I went out of my way to offer the U.S. a 20% stake in the next-generation energy business, without them investing a single cent, was for one reason and one reason only. My father’s and my safety. And peace!”
“We will find the traitor soon and…”
“I don’t see the point. Does catching the traitor magically make the leaked information disappear?”
“…”
"After handling things this way, the best you can say is that you'll catch the traitor and punish them? I've been hearing talk that the CIA's reputation is a thing of the past. It seems I need to give it some serious thought. You really do seem to be past your prime."
“Please. We will ensure no more information gets out…”
“A man who deals in information speaks so carelessly of things he can’t handle. Can you take responsibility for those words?”
“…”
“A dam doesn’t collapse because of a sudden downpour. It collapses because it can’t withstand the rain due to pre-existing cracks.”
“I am not unaware of the contract between you and the United States, Professor. But if you were to declare a separation here and now…”
“Why? Are you threatening me now?”
“What? No, sir! A threat?”
Marcos jumped, insisting that was absolutely not his intention.
“I was hoping you would give us a chance to make up for our mistake…”
Yu-hyeon glared at Marcos with cold eyes.
“Memento Mori.”
“Sir?”
“It’s a Latin phrase. It means, remember that you must die.”
“……!”
“If you waste this chance again, there won’t be a second one. If anything happens to me or if my surroundings are disrupted…”
“…”
“Don’t forget that it won’t be the U.S. that’s smiling, but its adversaries.”
“Yes, Professor!”
Marcos nodded repeatedly, his expression tense.
“Um, by the way…”
“...?”
“How long do you plan on keeping this from your father?”
“The Nobel Prize.”
“Sir?”
“When I win it, he’ll find out naturally. For that to happen, there can be no more mistakes like this until the work is finished. This isn’t the kind of business you can go around publicizing, is it? If it were, I wouldn’t have to be this careful, and I wouldn’t have given the U.S. a 20% stake.”
“I apologize once again.”
“Keep your expression in check when you go downstairs.”
“Of course.”
Marcos tapped his chest as if to say not to worry.
As Yu-hyeon was leaving the study, Marcos added a word as if he had just remembered something.
“Do you know of a company called HS Group? It’s a Korean corporation.”
“And?”
“I came across this information by chance. Purely by chance, but I thought it might be helpful.”
“I told you not to drag things out, but you can’t seem to break the habit. Is it a professional trait for people in intelligence?”
“Sir? A professional trait?”
“It means get to the point.”
“Ahem. The woman who came here today, Lee Jae-eun, is part of the HS Group family. Her title is Senior Managing Director. She’s here to cast an actor from the drama in her fashion show.”
“What does that have to do with me? I have no intention of getting involved in how those people conduct their business, as long as they don’t cause any trouble here.”
“Yes. Director Lee Jae-eun is here purely for business, but the employees who came with her, Park Gyu-hyeon and Kim Byeong-seok, have a different objective.”
“Park Gyu-hyeon, Kim Byeong-seok?”
“The two work for the HS Group’s management team, and their main job is to handle the interests and problems of the owner’s family, a kind of fixer. Both are from the Korean special forces.”
“Their objective.”
“We requested information from our Korean branch, and something interesting came up. It’s been confirmed that Lee Jae-yoon, the president of HS Energy, has been observing and managing a Korean actress for a long time.”
“Which actress?”
“Han Mi-ra. The reason those two are here is likely related to that.”
At the mention of the unexpected name, the corner of Yu-hyeon’s eye twitched slightly.
Marcos watched Yu-hyeon’s reaction and continued.
“I know you invested in the drama, so I thought it would be bad if any problems arose. It’s not much, but I thought it might be helpful information…”
“You failed at the one job you were supposed to do, but you still want to stay in my good graces, so you’re asking me to at least accept this?”
At Yu-hyeon’s words, Marcos flinched.
“Ahem. It’s not necessarily that…”
“Get me additional information.”
When Yu-hyeon requested more information, Marcos’s expression brightened again.
"And about that fashion."
"Sir?"
"Is all that really necessary?"
"I'm undercover, but I still have to look like a mafia boss…"
Marcos tugged lightly at the lapel of his suit, straightening the lines.
Does he think the Italian mafia and Black street gangs from the slums are the same thing?
"Sir?"
"It's nothing. Let's go down. Since you're here, you should at least eat."
"Haha. Of course. I heard Don Karman went to a lot of trouble for the first time in a while. I absolutely have to eat before I go."