Thugs (5)
“Fuck.”
Outside the building where Go Cheon-su was holed up, a tattooed man in a green balaclava kicked the cargo truck parked on the street, spitting curses.
“Goddamn it, what the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Calm down.”
“Calm down my ass!”
He slapped away the hand extended by his short-statured partner.
“Where the fuck are we supposed to find intact parts?!”
It was an angry shout. Go Cheon-su watched from inside, frowning.
What the hell?
They didn't seem to be tailing him. Maybe Black Tattoo patrols circling the area.
“Why the hell do we have to fix and bring back that truck specifically? We've got other ones that run fine!”
The balaclava wasn't calming down—instead, he raised his voice even more. The short guy frantically waved his hands.
“Q-quiet down! What if someone hears?!”
“Who’s gonna hear? Everyone’s out scavenging parts anyway!”
The balaclava let out a heavy sigh.
“Fuck, what’s so special about it? Like it’s some fucking talisman or something? No clue what the boss is thinking.”
“It’s a reefer truck. A reefer truck.”
“So what the fuck about it?”
“You think it’s easy to find a working fridge in this shitshow?”
From their conversation, it sounded like Black Tattoo’s boss had other vehicles but refused to leave without this one.
A reefer truck, huh. Go Cheon-su let out a slight groan. If it wasn’t too small, it was definitely worth coveting. For running an organization, that kind of functionality would be damn useful.
But depending on the situation, it wasn’t something you couldn’t ditch.
“Even if the fridge is important, treating it like treasure is why we’re in this mess.”
The balaclava pointed at the cargo truck, stripped of parts like it was missing teeth here and there.
“They wrecked a truck that could’ve run fine and took the parts to the boss—those other idiots.”
“No, that’s not…”
“And now we gotta strip more.”
The balaclava looked exasperated.
“We gotta pretend we’re scavenging parts too. Does that even make sense?”
Even to Go Cheon-su’s ears, it was an absurd situation. The boss must treat his underlings like shit with that high-and-mighty attitude. No wonder this nonsense was happening.
“Fuck, this is driving me insane.”
Unable to contain his rage, the balaclava yanked at his own hair. Go Cheon-su watched for a moment before turning back to his group.
“Those guys are outside.”
Go Cheon-su said calmly.
“Two of them.”
Numbers-wise, they had the advantage.
“We could rush out now and take them easy, but tailing them might be better.”
They needed Black Tattoo’s base location anyway. These two weren’t the ones who’d followed them here. They’d head back to base—perfect opportunity.
“Sounds good. Let’s tail them quietly.”
“I’m in too.”
“Hold up.”
Unlike the agreeable responses from Yang Min-cheol and Kim Ha-ryeong, Jang Seo-yeon raised her hand.
“Shouldn’t just one person tail them? More than that, and we might get spotted.”
Valid point. Go Cheon-su rubbed his chin, pondering, then flicked his gaze over. At the end of that gaze stood Oh Young-jun.
***
“Hah… hah…”
Ten minutes later, Oh Young-jun was panting behind a tree, hiding his body.
How the hell did I end up like this…?
The reason was simple: someone missing an arm would be easier to hide.
It didn’t seem that convincing, but to repay Go Cheon-su for helping him, Oh Young-jun had volunteered.
Plus, after proper introductions with the group, he figured he wasn’t expendable.
“Hoo.”
Oh Young-jun steadied his shaking breaths and waited quietly.
“Weird. Didn’t hear anything?”
“Don’t jinx it. It’s not even time for those tree monsters to roam.”
The two Black Tattoo members ahead turned toward him. The short guy had sensed something.
“Maybe not…”
But the short guy was less assertive than the balaclava. He just tilted his head once before readjusting his load and moving on.
Rumble rumble rumble.
That’s when it happened. As the balaclava rolled the wheel forward, he flinched, staring ahead.
“Huh?”
The startled man dropped the wheel, tumbling forward pathetically.
“…Scavenging parts or something?”
A group of tattooed men stood where the wheel had rolled. The one who asked was the scar-faced one among them.
“Good work.”
“Ah, Captain Joo Sang-jin.”
The balaclava looked uneasy seeing him.
“What brings you here…”
“Don’t worry. Not here to check if you got the parts.”
Joo Sang-jin glanced at the wheel on the ground.
“Just looking for something.”
“Looking… for what?”
The balaclava exchanged a baffled glance with the short guy before asking.
“What’re you looking for?”
“Enemies.”
He jerked his head.
“Guys nearby who fucked over our members.”
“W-what?”
“Got ambushed—three dead. Searched around, no luck yet.”
The balaclava trembled and stepped back at the news.
“Wait, the boss doesn’t know yet, right? If he does, I can’t go back now! He’ll chew me out!”
“If he knew, we wouldn’t be here.”
Joo Sang-jin walked over, patting the balaclava’s shoulder to calm him.
“We’ll handle it quietly, so you just deliver the parts. Keep the boss distracted—put on a show.”
“A… show?”
“Unless you wanna get smashed together.”
The balaclava who’d been bitching up a storm by the truck earlier was now speechless. Joo Sang-jin left him and moved on.
“See you later.”
Five tattooed men followed him. The street was left with just the balaclava and short guy.
Shit…
Oh Young-jun, watching the scene, swallowed dryly.
They’re heading that way—not good.
Joo Sang-jin was going straight toward Go Cheon-su’s location. They could be in danger.
Should I head back?
But he didn’t know the base yet. Oh Young-jun gritted his teeth. If only he’d scouted earlier—instead, he’d just saved his own skin until his arm was wrecked. Regret hit now.
“This is making me nervous as fuck again.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
Meanwhile, the balaclava and short guy gathered themselves, muttering, and started walking. Oh Young-jun hesitated but followed.
Check this first!
No need to go all the way to the base. Spot anything useful and bolt back to warn Go Cheon-su.
Hurry hurry!
The pair moved slowly, clearly dreading the base. It burned him up, but he had to hang back.
Ugh!
Rushing made his arm throb. No time to care.
There…!
In the distance, two trucks: one reefer, one regular cargo. Oh Young-jun spun around immediately.
Needed to get back to the group ASAP. He ducked into an alley out of their sight and broke into a sprint.
Just hold on a bit, Mr. Go Cheon-su!
Oh Young-jun ran full tilt, unaware of what he’d soon witness.
***
“Ah…?”
The commotion had already started.
“Argh!”
“Gah!”
“Uwaaaah!”
Confirming the screams, Oh Young-jun could only sigh.
“No way…”
Go Cheon-su’s group was utterly dominating the Black Tattoo thugs by the truck. Jang Seo-yeon snapping a thug’s wrist then kneeing his shin; young Yang Min-cheol swinging a steel pipe with vigor; Kim Ha-ryeong stabbing a thug’s eye with a scalpel.
Hard to believe they were civilians. But shining brightest was Go Cheon-su.
“Joo Sang-jin, right?”
He approached the staggering, bruised Joo Sang-jin, eyes narrowed.
“Not as tough as I thought.”
“You bastard…!”
Joo Sang-jin raised his knife high and yelled.
“You the one who smashed our guys?”
“Probably?”
Go Cheon-su’s face hardened briefly.
“Yeah, definitely. Seeing your skills, no need to check the others.”
The tide had fully turned. Go Cheon-su chuckled dryly.
“Action captain who folds after one ambush. And you bullied our Min-cheol with that?”
“Grr…”
Joo Sang-jin glared at Yang Min-cheol.
“Yang Min-cheol…!”
“Hey.”
Go Cheon-su cut in casually.
“Let’s keep it between us. Captain to captain.”
“Ha…!”
Joo Sang-jin gripped his dagger, grinding his teeth.
“You think you’ve already won?”
“Nah? Do you?”
Go Cheon-su’s retort left Joo Sang-jin flustered. He knew he was in deep shit.
“Ah.”
His scanning eyes locked on Oh Young-jun.
“Shit.”
The moment their gazes met, Oh Young-jun sensed trouble and backed away.
“Uwaaaah!”
Joo Sang-jin rushed over and grabbed Oh Young-jun’s arm.
“Gah! Let go!”
“Hey!”
Easily subduing the one-armed man, Joo Sang-jin held his dagger sideways and shouted at Go Cheon-su.
“This guy’s with you, right? Huh?!”
He glared at Oh Young-jun.
“Yeah, looks just like that dead fucker! Must be one of yours!”
“That place?”
Go Cheon-su tilted his head and approached.
“Oh, yeah—the spot where I wrecked your guys. Right, his buddy died there too.”
Composed as ever, but Oh Young-jun yelled anyway.
“Mr. Go Cheon-su, don’t worry! I can handle—”
“Guh.”
A chop to the nape sent Oh Young-jun staggering with a groan. Joo Sang-jin yanked his hair, pressing the dagger to his throat.
“Stay back! Or I’ll slit his throat!”
“Even more low-rent than I thought.”
Go Cheon-su looked disappointed.
“Figured an action captain would have some gravitas. Nope.”
“What bullshit!”
“Just a thug.”
Go Cheon-su raised his axe, eyes cold on Joo Sang-jin.
“Gotta treat thugs like thugs, right?”
“Don’t come closer! Stay back!”
Joo Sang-jin kept yelling, but Go Cheon-su didn’t stop.
“You damn…!”
No escape. Joo Sang-jin retreated, then tensed his knife hand.
And…
“Guh?”
He stabbed Oh Young-jun in the chest.
“G-guhk…”
Oh Young-jun collapsed instantly. Joo Sang-jin shoved him aside and fled alone, abandoning his men.
“…”
Go Cheon-su stared down at the trembling Oh Young-jun on the ground.
“…You fucking piece of shit.”
Rage flared in Go Cheon-su’s eyes.
Go Cheon-su bolted after Joo Sang-jin, his speed far beyond a normal human’s.
“Sh-shit…!”
Joo Sang-jin ran like mad. No will to fight Go Cheon-su—he knew he’d lose.
Go Cheon-su wasn’t normal; he’d figured that out.
“Argh!”
The axe buried in his shoulder. Joo Sang-jin hit the ground like a log.
“…You know what pulls the most aggro on streams?”
Go Cheon-su said coldly, watching Joo Sang-jin groan and crawl.
“I’ll teach you starting now.”