Dungeon & Commander (88)
“No matter what, shouldn’t we stop him?”
“If we do, he won’t go through with it, right?”
There he is!
Kim Jun spotted the man.
“...That’s not it, but.”
“Think about your family. Or better yet, think about yourself more. Eat something tasty and hang in there.”
Kim Jun pulled out 30,000 won and set it on the ground before hurling himself downward.
The startled man rushed over.
“Ah!”
Kim Jun, who everyone thought would plummet to his death, grabbed the protruding air conditioner outdoor unit and pipes on the building’s side, swinging across like Tarzan before landing safely on the adjacent structure.
He waved at the suited man, then leaped to another building.
The man who had climbed to the rooftop to end it all was speechless. As the wind scattered the bills, he hurriedly scooped them up. Suddenly, his stomach growled fiercely.
Kim Jun was hiding in an alley across from the building where the suspicious man with the metallic aura had entered.
He checked his watch. Already 30 minutes had passed.
He pulled out his phone, hesitating.
Maybe I’m imagining it. I didn’t even see inside that white envelope myself. Should I call Muhyun?
He dialed his friend, but the power was off. With hundreds of texts and calls probably flooding in, the battery might have died.
“I’m barely hanging on myself.”
Kim Jun pocketed the phone.
As he resolved to head inside, a van pulled out from the parking lot.
He spotted the man in the driver’s seat.
That’s the guy!
The van was already speeding down the road.
He tried hailing a taxi, but none were in sight. Instead, a quick-service delivery motorcycle was parked in front of the building.
Kim Jun rushed to it and found the keys in the ignition. He donned the helmet and tore off on the bike.
Just then, the delivery rider emerged, yelling and giving chase.
“I’m in a hurry. Sorry!”
Turning right to pursue the van, Kim Jun wondered if he’d lost his mind.
Just as Yeon Ga had stolen the Cheonroegeom, he’d now stolen a motorcycle. Sure, it happened in movies and dramas all the time, but that didn’t make it okay in real life.
Was chasing this van worth resorting to theft?
Kim Jun had no rational justification.
If pressed, it was just an intense gut feeling.
The motorcycle made tailing easy. He could weave between cars, keeping a safe distance.
Plus, hiding behind big trucks would make it hard for the van to notice the bike at all.
The van headed out to the suburbs.
Kim Jun followed.
Skyla slipped a bug detector into her bag and entered the locker room. After meticulously scanning for listening devices, she glanced at Yoo Min-jeong following her and asked,
“What moisturizer do you use? I get mine from a friend who makes natural cosmetics, but I don’t know if it’s any good.”
Sudden cosmetics talk.
Yoo Min-jeong caught on immediately. Too much silence would arouse suspicion from anyone listening.
“I use the one from OO. The texture feels great when I apply it.”
“You’re not worried about anti-wrinkle or whitening?”
“Not yet.”
“Lucky you.”
Genuine envy.
Now pushing late twenties, her skin wasn’t as elastic as before.
After clearing the locker room, Skyla headed out and asked,
“Which moisturizer’s the best?”
Yoo Min-jeong rattled off answers effortlessly. It was girl talk anyone could relate to.
When she shared a story about trying a hyped product from an ad only to suffer breakouts, the two dove into cosmetics chatter so enthusiastically they nearly forgot their mission.
No bugs in the showers, locker room, or training room.
The first device turned up in the bathroom—a black object wedged in the gap above a stall partition.
They exchanged nods and switched to clothes and shoes talk as they left.
“I mostly order online.”
Skyla again.
“It’s so different from the pictures.”
“Like eight or nine out of ten times, it’s disappointing. What can you do?”
“I go to department stores and try stuff on first. Let’s go together sometime.”
Yoo Min-jeong meant it. Skyla had felt so prickly before, but chatting about makeup and clothes melted that tension away.
“It’s a promise.”
“Yeah, a promise.”
Last stop: the master room.
Skyla went up first.
Yoo Min-jeong followed, chatting about shoes she’d bought earlier this year but never worn.
The master room had one camera and two bugs, cleverly hidden—impossible to spot without the detector.
They hit a convenience store after leaving the guildhouse, each popping a Choco Pie in their mouth.
“Yeon Ga’s getting serious.”
Skyla.
“We need to tell Master.”
“Left a text, so he’ll call. Haha, speak of the devil.”
Skyla pulled out her phone.
“Come to the guildhouse right now.”
“Yeon Ga was bugging us.”
Skyla pocketed her phone and grinned at Yoo Min-jeong.
“Where’s Kim Jun right now? Give him a call.”
“Okay.”
Yoo Min-jeong tried her new phone, but it just rang.
“No answer.”
“Hmm, we shouldn’t get too close. Those guys are pros at tails—if we slip, we’re made. We need to track down where Kim Jun is.”
“Phone GPS?”
“Can’t. That’d involve cops, and we don’t have time—plus, it’d draw reporters. I’ve got something else.”
Skyla pulled out her phone and opened contacts. Over 5,000 numbers, but she selected a group interested in Kim Jun.
Mostly late teens to early twenties, obsessed with internet and mobiles, connected directly or indirectly to her. Some she’d helped after scams.
Skyla blasted a group text.
Yoo Min-jeong’s eyes widened reading it.
“Whoa, impressive.”
“This is nothing.”
Just then, Master Go Cheolmin’s car pulled into the parking lot.
The two women stepped out of the store.
‘Fourth Shadow’ Sa Yeong, face pocked with acne, sat in the back of the van with headphones on. He shook his head, yanked them off, and sighed.
“Those idiots went from makeup and clothes to... guess what now?”
‘Third Shadow’ Sam Yeong, with his stubbled jaw, and ‘Fifth Shadow’ O Yeong, in jeans and a tee, looked at him.
“Nail art!”
“Drop any expectations they’re special raiders. Strip away innate talent, and they’re all the same.”
Stubble said.
Jeans stretched.
“I kinda like that Yoo Min-jeong chick. Style, body, money—perfect. Well, personality’s iffy? Sam Yeong, switch with me. Trailing that bear’s killing me with boredom.”
“Orders are orders.”
Sam Yeong’s reply was curt.
Silent O Yeong glanced at the monitor. Guildhouse parking lot: Ferrari, Harley, van.
If only I’d been born a raider.
“Why’d they all head back to the guildhouse? They know something?”
O Yeong asked.
“Who knows.”
Sam Yeong was cautious.
“Probably just wanted to go back.”
Sa Yeong shrugged.
A delivery bike rolled into the lot.
The shadows tensed, then slumped as two pizzas arrived.
Then the van tilted.
Thud. It flipped sideways.
It rolled again, floor and ceiling swapping. Electronics crashed and shattered.
Rear doors flew open.
The stunned shadows couldn’t fathom why Go Cheolmin—supposedly inside the guildhouse— was here. Instinct from brutal training kicked in.
O Yeong lunged, knee aimed at Go Cheolmin’s chest.
Go Cheolmin sidestepped, seized O Yeong’s neck with a thick hand, and hurled him into a roadside tree. O Yeong’s back snagged, spine twisting oppositely as he blacked out.
Sa Yeong charged screaming, knife in hand.
Whoosh, whoosh.
Go Cheolmin retreated from the blade, then sprang forward like a spring, palm thrusting. The force exploded from his hand, slicing air and pulverizing Sa Yeong’s shoulder blade.
The knife clattered to the ground.
Sam Yeong fled toward the van’s front, only to be blocked by Skyla and Yoo Min-jeong. He swung dual knives, but cold from Skyla’s bracelet paralyzed him momentarily.
Skyla cuffed his wrists behind his back with handcuffs from her bag.
“Item?”
“Yup. Name’s Irene. Cool girl, right?”
Skyla stroked the silver bracelet.
Go Cheolmin hoisted O Yeong over his shoulder and dragged Sam Yeong and Sa Yeong toward the guildhouse.
Skyla, following, paused to check her phone—a text from an informant.
“...Kim Jun stole a motorcycle.”
Yoo Min-jeong hurried over.
“Stole what?”
“Quick-service bike.”
Skyla showed her the phone.
Yoo Min-jeong and Skyla stared at each other, speechless.
Stealing a motorcycle?
Skyla texted her informants the bike model, plate, and Kim Jun’s outfit to track him.
Yeon Sa-su sat on the stairs at the villa entrance, rolling up his sleeve to check his watch.
“Why so late? Shadows, my ass.”
Yeon Ga divided into Myeong Yeon and Am Yeon.
The family head, plus famed raiders like Cheonmu Pavilion Master, Cheonma Pavilion Master, Cheonchal Pavilion Master—all Myeong Yeon. Am Yeon were the shadows aiding them covertly.
Yeonmu Academy belonged to Myeong Yeon, Yeon Ga’s future.
Grumbling, Yeon Sa-su recalled Choi Muhyun toppling three priests in a row. A rookie raider beating three of Yeonmu’s Seven Skills in a wheel fight.
So that’s why bloodlines can’t be ignored.
The surrounding woods made the air crisp. This serene villa on Seoul’s outskirts was one of Yeon Ga’s safehouses.
Yeon Sa-su remembered his talk with the deputy head. He only executed incomprehensible orders after questioning to understand.
“Do we really have to hand Choi Muhyun to them? Won’t Am Yeon steal the credit?”
“Family head’s command.”
“...Still.”
“What if the plan fails?”
“Ah!”
Yeon Sa-su finally got why the deputy head didn’t question it.
The foe was top tanker Choi Min-su. If he moved, Moon Buffer Mun Hyorin would stand beside him—war with the arrogant upstarts.
Losing that? Someone pays.
The family head and deputy had calculated: Am Yeon shadows. Shadows could vanish without harming Yeon Ga.
“Understand?”
“Yes, Deputy Head.”
“Hand him over cleanly.”
“Got it.”
Recalling it brought a faint smile to Yeon Sa-su’s face.
A van pulled into the clearing.
Seeing Il Yeong and I Yeong step out, Yeon Sa-su rushed like wind, slapping their cheeks—smack, smack.
Il Yeong didn’t react; I Yeong glared with venom.
“Why hit without hearing us out? Traffic accident blocked the road...”
“Sorry.”
Il Yeong cut in, bowing.
“That’s why you’re called shadows. Live like that, and you’ll never escape Am Yeon. Do better, huh?”
Yeon Sa-su patted Il Yeong’s head—lightly, insultingly—then nodded at his foreign luxury car.
I Yeong glared but fetched the unconscious Choi Muhyun from the trunk, transferring him to the van.
“Do the job right. Screw up, we all die.”
“Understood, Yeon Sa-su.”
Il Yeong replied.
Yeon Sa-su sighed, drove off.
I Yeong finally vented.
“Fucking orphan who wouldn’t be here without luck!”
Il Yeong stayed silent. He knew best outbursts here were pointless.
Kim Jun, who’d parked his bike near the villa entrance to watch, couldn’t believe his eyes.
That was definitely Muhyun.
He pulled out his phone.
Battery nearly dead, one bar signal.
First, Master Go Cheolmin. After five rings, it connected.
“Master.”
“Master?”
He hung up and redialed when three profanity-laced texts buzzed in simultaneously.
The trembling phone died. Screen black.
Kim Jun bit his lip hard. He had to warn them, but no way to.
The van’s engine roared.
Kim Jun waited till it hit the road, then cautiously tailed on the bike.