Kobe (3)
Kobe Steel, founded in 1906, was one of Japan’s leading steel companies.
It manufactured not only rolling stock for railways, but also products made of aluminum and copper, along with industrial machinery and other heavy equipment.
It had factories not just in Japan, but in the United States, China, and the Netherlands as well.
And through a Korean-Japanese joint venture called Pohang Aluminum, it also maintained a plant in Korea.
Seong Ha-yeong and the Chamber of Commerce staff took the Shinkansen to Kobe early that morning.
Kang-hae joined them at the station.
There were people from Kobe Steel waiting in front of the station to greet them.
They rode together to Kobe Steel’s headquarters.
At headquarters, executives from Kobe Steel received them.
Kobe Steel, too, had a deep interest in the inter-Korean railway project.
Seong Ha-yeong had the uneasy feeling that things were becoming bigger than she’d expected.
But she gave nothing away.
She followed the executives through a tour of the company.
Their manners were impeccable.
Lunch, too, had been prepared with Kobe beef steak, a cut considered among the finest of all Japanese wagyu.
When lunch finally ended, everyone moved to the meeting room.
And the real meeting began.
“Our company has the experience and know-how to lay rail across twenty-five countries, including the Shinkansen lines that span the Japanese archipelago.”
An executive from Kobe Steel took the lead in promoting the company.
Seong Ha-yeong and the Chamber of Commerce staff could speak Japanese.
But since this was an official meeting, there was still an interpreter.
The interpreter was a woman in her late twenties.
Her neatly tied hair and fair skin gave her a composed, refined impression.
When they had lunch together, she had introduced herself as Natsuki Ise.
“I’ve long heard that Kobe Steel is an outstanding steel company,” Seong Ha-yeong replied.
The Kobe Steel executives smiled.
This meeting mattered greatly to them.
In 2018, Kobe Steel had been engulfed in scandal after falsifying quality data.
Since then, the company had made various efforts to refresh its image.
If it could secure a contract to export railway rail for Korea and North Korea, it would not only bring in revenue, but also offer a chance to recover its damaged reputation.
“If you don’t mind, we’d like to show you our steelworks in Kakogawa.”
Natsuki Ise interpreted the executive’s proposal, and Seong Ha-yeong answered with a smile.
“I truly appreciate the offer. But this visit came together so suddenly that I think I’ll need to report the steelworks visit to my superiors first. If we get approval, would it be all right to come then?”
“Of course. Absolutely!”
The executive bowed his head as he spoke, then launched back into his sales pitch.
The meeting didn’t end until evening.
The Kobe Steel side had even wanted to treat them to dinner, but Seong Ha-yeong firmly declined.
Then she led the disappointed Chamber of Commerce staff to the hotel.
It was a business hotel about twenty minutes by car from Kobe Steel’s headquarters.
Kang-hae had arranged the booking in advance through the twin sisters.
“I’m sorry the schedule is so tight.”
In the hotel lobby, Seong Ha-yeong apologized to the Chamber of Commerce staff who had come on the trip with her.
Whether by age or by experience, all of them outranked Seong Ha-yeong by a wide margin.
But Seong Ha-yeong was a civil servant under the National Security Office.
They belonged to the Chamber of Commerce, a private organization.
And above all, they knew better than anyone that in state-led projects like this, the civil servant always held the upper hand.
More than that, they knew exactly who Seong Ha-yeong was.
The eldest granddaughter of the Ilseong Group.
“Oh, no, not at all.”
“That’s right. Compared to Gwanghwamun, this is nothing.”
“Thanks to you, we even got to come all the way to Japan. We’re delighted.”
So they buttered her up without the slightest hesitation.
“Instead, I won’t schedule anything until tomorrow morning.”
When Seong Ha-yeong said that, smiles spread across their faces.
“Hahaha. Then why don’t we have a modest little dinner among ourselves?” one of them suggested.
But Seong Ha-yeong shook her head.
“I’m afraid I have a few things to take care of.”
She used work as an excuse and turned them down.
“I’m a little tired, so I’ll rest,” Kang-hae said, looking like anything but tired.
“Use this corporate card for the after-work dinner.”
Seong Ha-yeong handed it over, and they left the hotel with the card in hand.
And the moment they were gone, Seong Ha-yeong asked Kang-hae, “What about Lee Jeong-tae?!”
Her voice was completely different from before.
“Not yet.”
“Then…?”
“I’m meeting the yakuza boss tonight.”
“What?!”
Seong Ha-yeong’s voice shot up in shock, and when she realized the people in the lobby were staring, she hurriedly lowered it again.
“Kang-hae, have you lost your mind?!”
“I saw him yesterday, too.”
“……”
Seong Ha-yeong was speechless.
Kang-hae glanced down at his phone.
That morning, while they were touring Kobe Steel’s headquarters, he had been exchanging messages with Lee Kang-woo.
He’d been told that the oyabun, Kurosawa Genji, wanted to meet him.
His schedule was tight.
There was no reason to put it off.
So Kang-hae set up the meeting for that very night.
“You have some kind of plan…?”
Seong Ha-yeong asked in a worried voice.
“For now, I’ve thrown out bait.”
“Bait…?”
“I told them that if they hand over Lee Jeong-tae, I’d raise the amount they were getting by twenty percent from their trade with the Jeguk Group.”
It took Seong Ha-yeong a moment to make sense of what he’d said.
And when she finally did, her face showed even greater shock than before.
“Kang-hae… don’t tell me you just… pretended to be a gangster from Korea to the yakuza…?!”
“Yes.”
“What kind of—”
“I’ve done the same before in Hong Kong and Macau. It’s no different.”
“It is different! This time your opponent is a yakuza!”
Seong Ha-yeong couldn’t even finish the sentence.
But of course, Kang-hae knew she had left the word yakuza unspoken at the end.
“I didn’t have much time, so nothing better came to mind.”
Kang-hae spoke honestly.
He only had four nights and five days in Japan.
And already one day had passed.
If he wanted to catch Lee Jeong-tae within that window, he’d have to confront the problem head-on.
And whatever came out of that confrontation, he intended to deal with it as it came.
“What if they figure out you’re not really a gangster from Korea? What if they retaliate?” Seong Ha-yeong asked, still worried.
“They don’t know who I am, so they won’t be able to chase me back to Korea.”
“Ha… seriously…”
Seong Ha-yeong still looked like she had more to say, but no words came.
“Then I’m off.”
Saying that, Kang-hae left the hotel.
He climbed into the taxi waiting at the entrance and showed the driver the address Lee Kang-woo had sent him.
* * *
Near the upscale residential district of Rokko in Kobe’s Nada Ward, Lee Kang-woo and several yakuza were waiting outside Kurosawa Genji’s house.
They welcomed Kang-hae as he stepped out of the taxi.
Their hands searched his body after he got out.
They even ran their hands beneath places where a man would normally never allow them to go.
Only after the search was complete was Kang-hae allowed inside.
In the garden, a dozen or so yakuza stood with Japanese swords at their waists.
They stared at Kang-hae with murderous eyes.
Kang-hae passed them and entered the house.
He had to move through several rooms.
At every step, he was searched again.
And in every room, he had to endure the feral, bloodthirsty stares of the yakuza waiting there.
Swish—
The third door opened.
Kang-hae met the eyes of a middle-aged man wearing a yukata.
“I’ve brought him, oyabun.”
Lee Kang-woo said, bowing ninety degrees toward him.
But unlike Lee Kang-woo, Kang-hae merely dipped his head slightly.
Then he turned his gaze and looked around the room.
A Japanese sword hung on the wall, along with a hanging scroll painted with a daruma.
And there were the men sitting on their knees with swords at their hips, glaring at him as if they wanted him dead.
Kang-hae could tell they were the sort of men who held real power in the organization.
“Sit.”
Kurosawa Genji said, gesturing to the place before him.
Lee Kang-woo interpreted the oyabun’s words.
Without a word, Kang-hae sat down on the tatami floor.
“I’ve heard you wanted to make a deal with us.”
Genji spoke in Japanese, and Lee Kang-woo relayed the words beside Kang-hae.
“That’s right.”
“What happened last night hardly seems like the behavior of an organization seeking a deal. I’d say it was rather rude.”
Though sweat trickled down Lee Kang-woo’s back as he translated, Kang-hae answered without so much as blinking.
“I wasn’t the one who started the fight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“One of your men stationed in front of the pachinko parlor picked a fight with me first.”
“……”
Kurosawa Genji stared at Kang-hae in silence.
Kang-hae did not look away.
The two men held each other’s gaze for a long time.
And Genji realized that the man sitting opposite him did not fear him.
It had been a very long time since he’d faced a man with eyes like that.
Genji broke the silence first.
“What organization do you come from?”
“I’m not really attached to any organization.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Think of me as a hangure.”
Hangure were criminal groups formed in the 1990s by former delinquent-circles and bosozoku members.
Unlike the yakuza, they weren’t tightly bound syndicates, but loosely connected networks—more like a gathering than a true organization.
Unlike the yakuza, hangure weren’t subject to the Anti-Boryokudan Law.
Across Japan, they committed murders, robberies, kidnappings, and other crimes, emerging as a force that threatened the yakuza themselves.
And Kurosawa Genji knew that Korea had its own so-called bandal types, similar to hangure, running wild as well.
Rich young men who ran legitimate businesses, made money however they could, legal or illegal, and subcontracted out the dirty work to gangsters when they needed to break the law.
The moment he heard the word hangure, one of the executives shouted, “What a piece of trash!”
Kang-hae didn’t understand the words, but it was obvious enough that it was an insult.
The man looked ready to rip the Japanese sword from his waist at any second.
Kurosawa Genji lifted an arm and stopped him.
Then Genji spoke again.
“We’re yakuza.”
“……?”
“To the yakuza, loyalty and honor come before everything else.”
When Kang-hae heard that, he let out a faint snort.
The executive who had shouted moments earlier rose to his feet, drew his sword, and bellowed, “For the oyabun, I’ll cut down that brat right now!”
The blade flashed under the fluorescent lights.
“Put your sword away.”
Kurosawa Genji ordered him.
The man grumbled but sat back down.
Still, he didn’t return the blade to its scabbard.
Instead, he laid it before his knees.
It was a warning.
A reminder that he could split Kang-hae open whenever he pleased.
“Young man.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t deal with the likes of hangure.”
“Understood.”
Kang-hae felt a little disappointed, but he didn’t show it.
It wasn’t as though he had gained nothing.
By the time he arrived here, he had already memorized the layout of the house.
He had decided that sometime before dawn today or tomorrow, he would sneak in, hold a knife to Kurosawa Genji’s throat while he slept, and ask where Lee Jeong-tae was.
So just as he rose to leave, Kurosawa Genji called out to him.
“Hey, young man.”
“……?”
“The bill isn’t settled yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you insult my men? You still haven’t paid for that.”