The Shadow Behind Him
Early morning.
Hong Gyeong-pyo had just arrived at the Director’s Office of the National Intelligence Service in Naegok-dong, Seoul when the chief of staff began briefing him on a number of matters.
The report included the current status of the investigation into Kang-hae as well.
“He’s still refusing to explain why he didn’t eliminate Lee Jeong-tae on the spot.”
Hong Gyeong-pyo thought back to his days as a black operative.
After completing an overseas mission, he had always been forced to return home and submit to questioning.
He had risked his life carrying out those operations, and yet the investigators’ attitudes had always been cold. Sometimes they had even badgered him as though he might be a double agent turned by the enemy.
Kang-hae, now under investigation by the NIS, would be going through the same thing.
Hong Gyeong-pyo felt a flicker of interest in the Information Command operative he had never met in person.
“And the National Security Office Director has requested a meeting.”
The chief of staff relayed the message.
“When?”
“He says he’ll come after lunch today.”
“Tell him to come.”
Hong Gyeong-pyo accepted Ko Jeong-un’s request.
After lunchtime passed, Ko Jeong-un arrived as promised.
This was their second meeting.
The two men sat facing each other, and after the tea was served, Hong Gyeong-pyo spoke first.
“What brings you here?”
“I was told one of our employees is under investigation.”
“It’s a routine procedure.”
“Is there a reason the investigation is dragging on?”
“This employee, Na Kang-hae, is said to have acted on his own in Japan.”
“Field agents are allowed a certain degree of discretion.”
“That would be easier to accept if not for several suspicious details.”
“What exactly is suspicious?”
“He kidnapped Lee Jeong-tae instead of eliminating him in the field.”
“...”
“And he still hasn’t said why. That’s why the investigation is taking so long.”
“...”
For a brief moment, silence hung between them.
Then Ko Jeong-un spoke first.
“Director.”
“Yes, Director.”
“When I heard you’d been appointed as Director, I was very pleased.”
“I heard that from the senior presidential secretary for civil affairs. When my name was being floated, you recommended me.”
“Director.”
“Yes.”
“The reason our employee kidnapped Lee Jeong-tae was because I ordered him to.”
“What are you saying?”
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
“What is it?”
“I gave Na Kang-hae a covert order.”
“...?”
“When the Jeukguk Faction smuggled drugs in through the Gaeseong Industrial Complex, there were people covering for them.”
“...”
“And I suspect NIS personnel were involved as well.”
“So you ordered Na Kang-hae to investigate that?”
“Yes.”
“...”
Hong Gyeong-pyo fell into thought.
He wasn’t offended that Ko Jeong-un hadn’t trusted him.
If he had been in Ko Jeong-un’s place, he would have done the same.
More than anyone, he understood that when doing the job, private feelings had no place in the field, no matter how strong the trust between them might be.
“I’ll tell them to wrap up the investigation.”
“Thank you.”
“Director.”
“Yes, Director.”
“May I ask a favor?”
“Go ahead.”
“If our people were involved in this, then let us handle the ones who sullied the NIS’s name ourselves.”
Hong Gyeong-pyo loved the organization called the NIS.
He did not want to see its name dragged through the mud over yet another disgrace.
Ko Jeong-un understood that feeling, but giving an immediate answer was difficult.
Eliminating them could also make it harder to uncover larger crimes—or criminals who had yet to be exposed.
Instead of answering, Ko Jeong-un changed the subject.
“Have you received any contact from the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office?”
“No. I haven’t been briefed on anything.”
“The diplomatic channel has been silent as well.”
“Then...”
They both understood what that meant.
If an intelligence officer traveling to Japan had made contact with the Japanese Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office, and a violent clash had occurred during an unofficial mission, then there should already have been a protest—whether through covert channels or diplomatic ones.
But the fact that no protest had come yet meant only one thing.
“They won’t just let this go in Japan.”
“But if they haven’t contacted us, doesn’t that mean they’re planning to erase him quietly?”
Hong Gyeong-pyo nodded without a word.
If it was Japan, that was entirely possible.
All the more so with the current Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office, with the brutally vicious Sakai Akihiro serving as deputy director.
“Director.”
“Yes, Director.”
“I know you served in Japan.”
“At the embassy.”
During his black-ops days, Hong Gyeong-pyo had operated in inland China and Hong Kong, and later worked under diplomatic cover at the South Korean Embassy in Tokyo.
“Then you’d know Japan’s style better than anyone.”
“It was a while ago, but Japan does favor tradition.”
“Then...”
“They probably won’t dirty their own hands.”
“In that case...”
“They’ll either contract a PMC, a private military company, or stir up conflict from within.”
“Internal chaos...”
“Like what happened in Tianjin.”
Hong Gyeong-pyo brought up the NIS’s own shame first.
He was referring to the incident in Tianjin, where NIS agents, on Seo Seong-guk’s orders, handed Information Command personnel over to the Chinese MSS.
“That must never happen again. I’ll look into it.”
That was what Hong Gyeong-pyo said.
And Ko Jeong-un believed that he meant it.
After Ko Jeong-un left, Hong Gyeong-pyo called in his chief of staff.
He then ordered him to verify the list of NIS employees who had been responsible for managing the Gaeseong Industrial Complex when it was in operation.
“Ah, and one more thing.”
Hong Gyeong-pyo stopped the chief of staff as he was about to leave the office.
“Yes, Director?”
“Look into Na Kang-hae in detail.”
“Understood, sir.”
The chief of staff bowed and withdrew.
The next day.
With the investigation complete, Kang-hae left the research building of the Unification Policy and Culture Foundation and immediately took a taxi to the goshiwon where he lived.
Then he went to a mobile phone shop near the goshiwon and bought a new phone.
He had surrendered his phone during the NIS questioning, and although it had been returned after the investigation ended, there was no doubt it had already been fitted with a wiretap program and location tracker.
“Would you like to replace the SIM as well?”
“Yes.”
Kang-hae replaced the SIM too, then called Ko Jeong-un.
“This is Na Kang-hae.”
[I heard the investigation’s over.]
“That’s right.”
[What happened with the order I gave you?]
“Lee Jeong-tae’s lover said she had the evidence.”
[Then you’ll report to work next week.]
“Understood.”
After hanging up, Kang-hae headed back to the goshiwon.
His little room, hardly larger than a square meter, was a mess.
Various documents were stacked haphazardly on the desk, and underwear and socks were strewn across the floor.
Anyone who saw it would have thought the room’s owner was simply filthy, but it was actually Kang-hae’s own tampering trap—a discreet trail-detection setup used to confirm whether someone had entered or tampered with the room.
Every time he left the room, Kang-hae scattered clothes and objects across the floor and desk.
And when he returned, they were in exactly the same positions as before he left for Japan.
There were no signs of intrusion.
Kang-hae sat at the desk, opened his laptop, and connected to the internet to search for Blue Velvet.
Blue Velvet was the Gangnam room salon Lee Jeong-tae had mentioned before his death.
Blue Velvet.
Gangnam room salon.
Gangnam room salon Blue Velvet.
Gangnam b-r-b-b.
After several searches, he found information related to Blue Velvet on a review site for nightlife establishments.
Blue Velvet was an exclusive high-end room salon, a so-called tenpro, operating on a membership-only basis.
It wasn’t a place you could simply walk into because you had money.
Then—
Knock, knock—
Someone knocked on the goshiwon door.
Kang-hae opened it, and the goshiwon manager was standing outside.
“You’re here today.”
“What is it?”
“Someone’s been looking for you for the past few days.”
“Who?”
The manager rummaged in his pocket and handed him a business card.
Ilseong Group Strategic Planning Office
Chief Lee Tae-seong
Kang-hae checked the card.
“What would a big company want with me~?” the manager asked, his voice full of curiosity.
But Kang-hae silently closed the door.
And then he fell into thought for a moment.
It was probably about what Seong Ha-yeong had gone through in Japan.
Then an idea suddenly surfaced in Kang-hae’s mind.
He called the number printed on the business card.
After a short ring, a middle-aged man answered on the other end.
[This is Lee Tae-seong.]
“You were looking for me.”
[Am I speaking with Na Kang-hae?]
“Yes.”
[Do you have a moment to talk?]
“Go ahead.”
[I understand you traveled to Japan recently with Miss Ha-yeong.]
“So?”
[I have a few things to ask. If you answer them, I’ll make sure you’re properly compensated.]
“Over the phone?”
[No. If it’s all right with you, I can come to where you are now.]
That was exactly what Kang-hae had been waiting for.
“There’s a bar in Gangnam called Blue Velvet. Let’s talk there.”
[A bar?]
“Yes.”
[Understood. I’ll call you when I arrive.]
“It has to be that bar—Blue Velvet.”
[Understood.]
After ending the call, Kang-hae went to the communal shower room in the goshiwon and took a cold shower.
When he returned to his room, there were two missed calls and a text message waiting for him.
It was a message from Lee Tae-seong, asking to meet at ten that night.
Kang-hae replied that he understood, changed his clothes, and headed for Gangnam.
The tenpro called Blue Velvet was located between Seolleung Station and Yeoksam Station, and when Kang-hae arrived, a woman who looked like the madam guided him to a private room.
Lee Tae-seong was sitting alone.
There were no hostesses in sight.
“If you need anything, just let us know.”
With those words, the madam left the room, and Kang-hae sat down across from Lee Tae-seong.
On the table were fruit snacks and several kinds of whiskey.
Lee Tae-seong picked up a bottle.
“I’m fine without alcohol.”
Kang-hae declined, and Lee Tae-seong set the bottle back down in his hand.
“Thank you for making time for me.”
Lee Tae-seong, who looked old enough to be his father, spoke with great deference.
“What do you want to ask?”
Kang-hae had no interest in small talk.
Lee Tae-seong caught on to that immediately and went straight to the point.
“Do you know what Miss Ha-yeong went through in Japan?”
“Before that, I’ve got a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re the one who’s curious. Who told you to look into it?”
“Chairman Seong Hun. He’s Miss Ha-yeong’s paternal grandfather.”
Kang-hae thought for a moment.
If it was Seong Hun, her grandfather, then he had the right to know.
So Kang-hae told him how men acting on behalf of Hanbando Construction had approached Seong Ha-yeong and tried to do unspeakable things to her.
Lee Tae-seong listened in silence.
“So you helped the young lady in Japan. Thank you.”
“Anything else you want to know?”
“No. If I have more questions, may I contact you again?”
“Go ahead.”
Lee Tae-seong bowed once more and took a white envelope from his inside pocket, offering it to him.
“It isn’t much, but it’s a small token of our appreciation.”
Normally, Kang-hae would have refused it.
But he would need money soon, and he accepted the envelope.
Lee Tae-seong stood first.
“I’ll stay a little longer.”
“Of course. We’ll take care of the bill.”
Lee Tae-seong bowed once more and left the room.
The moment he was gone, Kang-hae pressed the bell to call the madam.
“Do you need something?”
That was what the madam asked him.
“I heard there’s a girl here named Hana.”
At that, the madam smiled brightly.
“Oh, you heard about her and came here? She’s our ace.”
Kang-hae nodded.
The madam took out her phone and called someone.
“Hey, tell Hana to come in.”
A moment later, the woman Kang-hae had been looking for came into the room under the stage name Hana.