Yang Jeong-won

Yang Jeong-won did not go to school. It was highly unusual behavior for a school bully who was normally quite diligent in his attendance.

Lying in bed, Yang Jeong-won couldn't bring himself to get up out of sheer humiliation. He had been beaten like a punching bag by Gong In-bae right in front of the entire class.

Six rounds, three minutes each. What made it even more infuriating was that In-bae hadn't even hit him hard. He had literally just held his stance and shadowboxed, tapping him with light, playful jabs.

He had held back so much that despite taking a beating for six full rounds, Jeong-won didn't have a single scratch on his body. In-bae had just tapped him rhythmically, tap, tap, tap, as if practicing on a speed bag. It was enough to drive Jeong-won insane with rage. He had tried to throw a punch back, but...

With a bizarre piece of advice—"Don't let your shoulder flare open"—a swift one-two combo and a hook would instantly slip past his guard. Since none of his attacks could connect, Jeong-won had no choice but to raise his guard and endure. That was how he spent all six rounds.

The embarrassment far outweighed the physical pain. But what he hated even more was the fact that he was terrified of Gong In-bae. To be honest, it was utterly horrifying. As In-bae was beating him, his eyes had been completely unfocused. They were vacant, holding absolutely nothing. There was no emotion. It felt as though In-bae was simply performing a mundane chore. That was what truly terrified him.

Yang Jeong-won's rapid rise to the top of the school hierarchy was largely thanks to his father. A former mobster turned construction company president—that was the profile of his father, Yang Nam-hyeok.

Yang Nam-hyeok's philosophy of life was simple: winning is everything. There are no fouls in life. The results speak for themselves. It is not the strong who survive, but those who survive who are strong. Words like "underhanded," "deceitful," "wicked," and "cunning" constantly followed him. To Yang Nam-hyeok, such labels were high praise. It was precisely by being those things that he had climbed to his current position. A life of survival—he felt duty-bound to pass that legacy down to his son.

Back in middle school, Jeong-won had picked his first fight with a school bully. The result was a total defeat; he came home thoroughly thrashed. Seeing his son's swollen, bruised face, Yang Nam-hyeok was furious. Yet, he asked in a deceptively calm voice:

"Where did you fight?"

"In the classroom."

"How did you fight?"

"Just... with my fists..."

Slap! Yang Nam-hyeok's heavy palm struck Jeong-won across the cheek. More than the pain, Jeong-won looked at his father with utter shock. Though intimidating to others, his father had always been warm and affectionate toward him. Yet, he had just struck him. And brutally so. Even then, Yang Nam-hyeok's voice remained chillingly calm.

"Was there nothing else around you?"

"There was... chairs, desks, a mop..."

Slap! An even harder blow struck his other cheek. Jeong-won couldn't even dodge; he just took the hit. Tears welled up from the pain. He was crying, but he was so terrified of his father that he could only stand there and listen. Yang Nam-hyeok spoke with a completely blank expression.

"Kids fight. It happens. You can hit, and you can get hit. But at the very end, the one standing has to be you. You fought with your fists? Why? When there were so many weapons around you to crush him with? If nothing else, you should have thrown a chair or smashed a fluorescent light over his head. Why did you just stand there like an idiot and take a beating?"

Slap! Another, even more powerful strike landed.

"Your mistake wasn't starting a fight. Losing a fight isn't a sin either. But losing like an idiot is a sin. You must use everything at your disposal."

"But that's cheating..."

"Cheating? Who decided that? 'Fouls' only exist in sports. Sports have weight classes, rules, and referees to judge who is better. Does a street fight have a referee? Do you wear protective gear and match weight classes?"

"When the fight is over, you must be the one standing. It doesn't matter what you do to make that happen. It's a fight. If you don't win, you die. Understood?"

"Yes, Father..."

Of course, the very next day, Yang Nam-hyeok tracked down the kid who beat his son and broke him. He even had the kid forced to transfer schools. After that, Yang Jeong-won changed. When he fought, he fought like a madman. He threw whatever was in sight and grabbed anything he could hold. Anyone who witnessed him fight avoided crossing him. If you fought that guy, you were guaranteed to end up in the hospital. His father was terrifying, but Jeong-won himself was no ordinary psycho.

By the time he graduated middle school, no one dared to touch him. It was the same in high school. He naturally claimed the top spot of the food chain. His sudden growth spurt in high school only helped him solidify his reign as the apex predator. Having ruled as a predator for so long, he had forgotten how to actually fight and only knew how to beat down defenseless targets. That was, until he met Gong In-bae.

Naturally, he wanted revenge. He wanted to beat Gong In-bae to a bloody pulp. But that vacant, hollow gaze of In-bae's held him back. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Honestly, just thinking about those eyes made his body freeze. It gave him goosebumps. Telling his father would solve the problem instantly, but he would have to prepare himself for a beating as well. Just standing there and getting hit like a punching bag? It wouldn't end with a few slaps like last time. He had been beaten that badly when he was just a middle schooler. Now, his father would probably use his fists. Was there no other way? Looking out the window, his eyes fell on the "uncles." Right. He had his uncles. The former mobsters who absolutely adored and doted on him.

"That's the punk, right?"

"Looks like him."

"Our young master got beaten up by a soft-looking kid like that?"

"Well, he is pretty tall, isn't he?"

"Kids these days eat well, so they grow like weeds."

"You eat plenty too, boss. It's just that it doesn't go to your height."

Jin Beom-gyu smacked him on the back of the head. Smack!

"Hey! You have to eat well when you're growing to get tall. At our age, no matter how much you eat, it doesn't go to your height. It just turns to fat."

"You ate so well, boss, I thought you were still trying to grow. My apologies, boss."

"Aigoo, don't even get me started. I eat a lot now because I starved when I was a kid. Kids who eat well when they're young don't get greedy with food. Why? Because they know they can eat whenever they want. It's only poor bastards like me who stuff their faces because they don't know when their next meal is coming."

"Didn't Jeong-won say that kid is an orphan? Said we could beat him half to death and there'd be no aftermath. But if he's an orphan, he must've starved, so how'd he get so tall?"

Another smack to the back of the head followed.

"They must feed them well at the orphanage. Orphanages and schools serve great food these days."

"You're right, boss. My buddy just got out of 'school' recently, and he said the food there is absolutely killer."

"Hey, not that school. Sigh. Forget it. Just tail him. If we lose him, we're dead."

"Yes, boss. You know my driving is top-tier."

"Huh? The kid's riding a motorcycle."

"Don't worry, boss. I'll tail him and give him a gentle nudge to knock him over. Then we'll offer to take him to the hospital, load him up, and take him straight to the factory."

"Oh, shit, that's incredibly smooth. Logical, too. Perfect."

"Then I'll do the deed once we hit a quieter spot."

A black sedan tailed Gong In-bae's motorcycle. As the motorcycle turned into a quiet alleyway, the sedan suddenly accelerated. Thump. The car lightly tapped the rear of the motorcycle, sending it sliding across the pavement. The two men quickly parked and rushed over to the fallen bike.

"Hey, kid, you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!"

The fallen student seemed slightly dazed but got up without a fuss.

"Oh dear, I feel terrible. Are you hurt? Let's get you to a hospital right away."

"How can we just go to the hospital? We need to call the police and clean up the scene first."

"What's there to clean up? We can just prop the motorcycle up. You can ride in our car."

"We need to call the police to document this. Then we can call the insurance. The hospital can wait."

"No, no, you're bleeding. We have to go to the hospital first."

Gong In-bae felt that something was off. It wasn't a spot where an accident should easily happen, and the driver's apology felt incredibly staged and unnatural. If an accident occurred, they should have taken photos of the scene and sorted things out, but these men showed absolutely no interest in doing so. Instead of calling the police or contacting their insurance, they were insisting on taking him to the hospital first. Anyone could see how suspicious this was. Feeling uneasy, In-bae decided to call the police and refuse to go with them.

But as the man standing next to him pretended to support him, he drove a sharp short blow directly into In-bae's midsection. In-bae staggered. He had been completely off-guard, and the puncher was clearly a professional who knew how to pack immense power into a short, compact strike. The blow instantly drained the strength from In-bae's body. In that split second, they threw open the rear door of the sedan, shoved him inside, and sped off.

The moment he was in the car, another punch flew at his face. It was a vicious strike. Are these guys professionals? Unable to fight back effectively in the cramped space, In-bae could only duck his head and keep his guard up.

"So you're the punk who beat up Jeong-won? You're getting a taste of your own medicine today, motherfucker."

Yang Jeong-won? He had heard rumors that Jeong-won's father was a former gangster. Since the kid had seemed relatively tame compared to that reputation, In-bae had assumed it was a lie, but it turned out to be true. Growing up in such a brutal environment, it was a miracle the kid had turned out even that normal. Suddenly, In-bae felt a strange pang ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of pity for Yang Jeong-won. But putting that aside, how was he going to handle this situation? As he was worrying, the phone of the man sitting next to him rang.

Hanging up, Jin Beom-gyu, who had been beating In-bae in the back seat, spoke to his partner behind the wheel.

"Yeong-gi. The Chairman is looking for us. We're heading straight to the office."

"Yes, boss. Changing course for the office now."

The car, which had been heading toward the outskirts of Seoul, turned around and merged back into the city traffic.

The underground parking lot of Mujin Construction's headquarters.

"Boss, what do we do with this punk?"

"Tie him up. We'll secure him first, make the delivery, and then head to the factory."

"Understood, boss."

When the glove compartment was opened, several items, including a thick rope, spilled out. They pulled out the rope and bound Gong In-bae tightly. To prevent him from screaming, they stuffed a filthy work glove into his mouth and sealed his lips shut with heavy-duty tape.

"Stay quiet. This is our company's parking lot. It's filled with guys like us. There are plenty of bastards here who would kill a kid like you just for fun. So don't go harboring any foolish hopes that someone's going to rescue you. Just sit tight. We'll be back in a flash."

Leaving Gong In-bae bound in the back seat, the two men walked away. In-bae tried desperately to escape, but it was no easy task. His hands were tied behind his back, his legs were bound, and the rope was securely anchored to the passenger seat frame. If only his hands had been tied, he might have managed to open the door and make a run for it. But with his legs bound and the rope tethered to the front seat, escape was impossible without completely untying the knots. The glove stuffed in his mouth reeked of a nauseating, vomit-inducing stench.

In-bae wriggled his body in every direction, trying to find some slack. But his captors were indeed professionals. The knots were incredibly secure. Were these guys former Boy Scouts? The knotwork was exceptionally neat and perfectly suited for the task. It wouldn't budge.

After a short while, the car doors opened, and the two men returned carrying a heavy Boston bag. As the younger one, Yeong-gi, went to toss the bag into the trunk, Jin Beom-gyu stopped him.

"Hey, hey, hey. Put that in the back seat."

"But we've got the kid back there."

"So what? He can't even wiggle a finger. Don't worry about him and just throw it in the back."

"Yes, boss."

Gong In-bae was positioned behind the front passenger seat, while the Boston bag was placed on the floorboard behind the driver's seat.

"Starting her up, boss," Yeong-gi said, turning the ignition. As they pulled out, Jin Beom-gyu turned back to speak to In-bae. "We don't usually double-book our jobs like this, so my bad. Just hang tight. Once we make this quick delivery, we'll give you our undivided attention."

"We're heading to a factory on the outskirts. It's so isolated that no matter how loud you scream, nobody will hear you. It's quite convenient."

"And boss, doesn't that place have epoxy floors?"

"Exactly. No matter how much blood you spill, it wipes clean instantly."

"Epoxy really is the best, isn't it?"

"That's why you should've just taken the beating from our young master. If you'd just sucked it up for a few hits, your life wouldn't be in this mess."

"Do you know how important patience is in life? They say if you endure three times, you can even prevent a murder."

"Wow, boss, that's deep. I respect that."

"It's basic knowledge. That's why you need to keep reading the newspaper. The whole world is in those pages."

"Understood, boss. I'll make sure to read it diligently."

While the two men babbled on, Gong In-bae's attention was entirely focused on the bag they had tossed into the back. Chairman. Delivery. Those were the only clues, but judging by the context, there was a very high probability that something extremely valuable was inside. He couldn't let an opportunity like this slip away. If he could just touch it, he could store it in his Inventory instantly. However, with his hands bound behind his back, he couldn't reach the bag sitting on the floorboard behind the driver's seat. Would my feet work? Wondering if the system would register contact through his feet, In-bae carefully shifted his body toward the center of the back seat.

Up front, the two gangsters were still discussing the profound meaning of the patience proverb, giving each other thumbs-up. Meanwhile, In-bae quietly lifted his leg and gently rested his foot on top of the bag. Since his ankles were also bound, he had to move with extreme caution. Go in, go in, go in... Get into the Inventory. In-bae chanted the command in his mind. In an instant, the heavy Boston bag vanished. It worked. In-bae immediately went back to sitting perfectly still, pretending as if nothing had happened.

A short while later, the car came to a halt. They had arrived.

"Do we just hand this directly to Assemblyman Kim?"

"No, we don't meet him face-to-face. His car will be parked here. When we arrive, his driver will leave the trunk popped open. We just slip the bag inside and walk away."

"Understood, boss."

The two men turned off the engine and opened the rear door to retrieve the Boston bag.

"Boss... did you grab the bag already?"

"Huh? No, why?"

"The bag isn't here."

"What do you mean it's not there?"

"I definitely loaded the bag right here. But it's gone."

"What kind of bullshit is that?"

Jin Beom-gyu hurriedly leaned in to check the back seat. But there was only the bound Gong In-bae. The bag was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, you bastard, did you actually load it properly earlier?"

"I did! I'm absolutely sure!"

"Hey, Heo Yeong-gi. Look me in the eye. Did you really put the bag in?"

"Yes, boss! I swear on my life! If you're doubting me, that's incredibly unfair. It's not like I was driving alone. How could I possibly steal it right under your nose?"

Heo Yeong-gi had a point. While a solo courier might run off with the goods, it was impossible to pull off a heist when they were traveling together in the same car. Jin Beom-gyu knew this, but he had asked out of sheer desperation. Slowly, both ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of their gazes turned toward Gong In-bae.

"Hey! What happened to the bag? You were sitting right here, you must know!"

"Mmph! Mmmph! Mmm-ggh!"

"Fuck, I can't understand a word. Rip that tape off his mouth."

Yeong-gi leaned in and violently ripped the tape off In-bae's mouth, pulling the foul-smelling glove out along with it. The moment his mouth was free, In-bae began babbling in a rapid-fire, panicked voice, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

"I'm sorry! I was so scared I kept my eyes closed the whole time! I have no idea what happened! I was just so terrified, and the tears kept coming... sob, sob. I'm sorry! Wahhh!"

The two men checked In-bae's bindings. The ropes were still as tight and secure as when they had first tied them. In-bae was completely immobilized; there was physically nothing he could have done. The gangsters thoroughly searched the back seat, the trunk, and even the front seats. Still, the bag was nowhere to be found. Wondering if they had somehow left it behind in the company parking lot, they turned the car around and sped back. On the way, they called another subordinate to check the parking lot, but the response they got was grim.

With every mile closer to the office, the two men's faces grew increasingly pale. Upon arrival, they searched the parking lot themselves, but finding nothing, they rushed up to the office in a panic. In-bae was left in the exact same situation as before—bound and abandoned in the back seat of the car. The only difference was that his mouth was no longer gagged.