The DNA of Betrayal

Tagbilaran, the capital of Bohol.

Nam Yong-woo opened the door to his suite at the Ocean Boutique Hotel. He was in luck. He had booked a standard room, but they upgraded him to a suite, claiming his original room wasn't ready. When luck is on your side, even the smallest details fall into place. A suite, of all things. Lately, everything he touched turned to gold.

The timing was perfect; those bastards were completely distracted by the elections, leaving GoGo Casino's security laughably lax. He had briefly worried about what would happen if he got caught, but at the end of the day, they were just thugs living off tourists in the Philippines. He didn't know why they had built GoGo Casino in the first place, but they were certainly softer than the loan sharks who had dragged him to this country. Even if he got caught, he'd probably just take a light beating and that would be it. Besides, the big boss was a softie. Thinking about it that way put his mind at ease.

All he had to do now was wait here, meet those guys in the evening, hand over the USB, and pocket five billion won. He didn't know exactly who was buying the source code. They felt like Chinese mobsters, but did he really need to care? He just had to take the money and hand over the drive. His only concern was what came after the payday. Once the cash was in his hands, his life would be a bed of roses. The sun would finally rise on a life that had known nothing but misery. His pathetic, wretched existence would end today.

There was still plenty of time before the transaction. He could rest here for a bit before heading out. He sat on the edge of the bed, but unable to resist its plush comfort, he ended up lying flat on his back. It was incredibly soft and cozy. It was his first time staying at the Ocean Boutique Hotel, and he was highly impressed. Maybe I should stay here for a while after I get the five billion won? The location was great, and the facilities were top-notch.

He indulged in blissful fantasies of what he would do with his fortune. Should I go back to Korea? Buy a building and live the life of a wealthy landlord? Or maybe buy an apartment overlooking the Han River? Or should I just settle down here in the Philippines? I've heard Vietnam, Cambodia, and Indonesia aren't bad either. One thought bled into another.

As his mind wandered, the memories of his time in the Philippines flashed before his eyes like a panorama. But he forced them away. They weren't pleasant memories. There was nothing good about the recollections of a man who had fled to the Philippines to escape gambling debts and gamble his life on a single jackpot. The more he thought about it, the more humiliated he felt. So, he decided to lock those memories away.

On a day like today, he wanted to raise a toast. But business came first. He waited for the meeting time to arrive, tossing and turning on the bed, watching TV, and scrolling through his phone. After idling away the hours, the time of the transaction was finally drawing near. It was time to get ready and head out.

Just then—beep, beep, beep. The electronic chime of the door lock echoed through the room.

Did I hear that wrong?

He turned his head toward the door. It was swinging open.

That's strange. No one is supposed to be coming here. No one even knows I'm here. The transaction site was a block away. Who could it be? Had a housekeeper walked into the wrong room? As he stared at the doorway, several men in suits filed in. Behind them, Sandro strolled in with a smug, triumphant grin.

"San... San... Sandro?" Nam Yong-woo gasped, his face draining of color as if he had just seen a ghost. He had never, in his wildest dreams, expected Sandro to walk through that door.

"Long time no see, Manager Nam."

"How did you... how did you get in here?" Terror gripped Nam Yong-woo the moment he locked eyes with Sandro. Does he know? The thought terrified him. His hands began to tremble with sheer anxiety.

"Why so surprised? Anyone would think you were caught red-handed doing something bad. Have you been a bad boy, Manager Nam?"

"N-no... of course not. It's just... you barged in so suddenly, it startled me."

"Ah, I see. I happened to stop by the hotel, and when they told me our general manager was staying in a suite, I figured I'd drop by to say hello."

"W-weren't you supposed to be in Mindanao for the elections?"

"Oh, I was. But something came up, so I made a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠quick detour. And then the hotel staff mentioned you were here."

"Is that so? You should have called first. What if I had company? You can't just barge in like this." Nam Yong-woo let out a silent sigh of relief. Sandro didn't seem to know anything. It really was just a casual visit. Emboldened, he tried to take a firmer stance.

"Haha. Of course, I made sure you were alone before coming up. Do you think the hotel staff wouldn't check that for me?"

"What?"

"They pretend not to notice, but they pay attention to everything. Who enters this room, who leaves, who you're with right now... they keep tabs on all of it."

"Really? I had no idea. Well, now that we've said our hellos, I'd appreciate it if you left. I'm incredibly exhausted and need some sleep."

"Of course. But I must say, I'm a bit hurt. I came all this way to greet you, and you won't even offer me a glass of water? Are we really that distant? I thought I treated you pretty well, Manager Nam."

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. I'll buy you a proper drink soon, I promise. I'm really sorry."

"I wonder if I'll ever get to enjoy that drink."

"What?"

"Bring them in," Sandro commanded.

At his signal, the suited men dragged in a couple of figures. The captives had been beaten so brutally that their faces were unrecognizable, swollen and bloody. Though they weren't bound, they were beaten to within an inch of their lives, unable to even crawl. Yet, Nam Yong-woo recognized them instantly. They were the buyers he was supposed to meet tonight. The very people he was going to trade with. And there they were, reduced to bloody heaps on the floor.

"I had to fly all the way from Mindanao today because of these bastards. You know who they are, don't you?"

"I... I... I have no idea who they are." Nam Yong-woo couldn't stop his voice or his body from trembling violently. But his mouth lied automatically.

"Manager Nam, if you're going to lie, at least put some effort into it. Stuttering like that would make even a saint suspicious."

"I d-don't know them! I s-swear!"

"Manager Nam. Do you know who owns Bohol?"

"......"

"Every single person in Bohol is my eyes and ears. I know exactly when and where you eat, who you screw, and when you take a shit."

"No, you've got it all wrong. This is a misunderstanding..."

"Of course, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. So, to clear things up, I'm sure you won't mind a quick search. Let's verify. Hey, search him."

As Sandro spoke, the suited men closed in on Nam Yong-woo. In a flash of panic, Nam Yong-woo realized they were looking for the USB. If they found it, he was finished. His entire plot would be laid bare. He had to do something. Desperate, he shoved the USB into his mouth and swallowed it. It was the size of a finger, but driven by raw adrenaline, he managed to gulp it down in one go. Even so, Sandro didn't even blink.

"Manager Nam, that was a very poor choice."

"What?"

"You just proved to me that this isn't a misunderstanding. You had so many excuses you could have used. 'I found it on the street,' 'I took it by mistake,' 'It's not mine.' Things like that."

"......"

"In our line of work, do you have any idea how many people we see swallowing things? Idiots swallowing keys, USBs, memory cards... there's always some lunatic. Last time, some crazy bastard even tried to swallow a whole cell phone. Hahaha!"

"We've seen it all. And do you know what that means? It means we've had a terrifying amount of practice getting those things back out."

"Boys, get him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ready to go."

"Yes, boss."

"If we were in a rush, we could do it right here, but hotels are tricky. It's a hassle when blood splatters everywhere, and those stains are a nightmare to get out. We have a favorite spot of our own. We'll extract it there."

"In case you're hoping to hold out, let me assure you, USB drives are surprisingly durable. If you think your stomach acid will dissolve it, you're sorely mistaken. Stomach acid breaks down proteins and fats, not plastic. So even if I take my sweet time getting it out, the drive won't be damaged. There's no rush."

"And since we're already cutting you open, maybe we should harvest your organs too? Though with a scrawny body like yours, I'm not sure they'll fetch much of a price."

"Oh, but I must ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apologize, Manager Nam. We're fresh out of anesthetics. I'm afraid we'll have to slice you open raw. We never had these kinds of slip-ups when Patrick was around. Things always get sloppy when you change personnel."

Hearing Patrick's name made Nam Yong-woo snap. If he was going to die anyway, he wanted to scream his lungs out.

"That's why you should have put me in charge instead of Ana, you bastards! You put Ana in charge, and now even simple things are getting screwed up!"

"Bwahaha! This guy is hilarious. What does Ana's supposed slip-up have to do with you?"

"Because if I had that job, I would have done it a thousand times better!"

Sandro burst into a fit of laughter, thoroughly amused by the general manager's delusion.

"How entertaining. But for your information, Ana didn't screw anything up. Ana doesn't handle this kind of work. By the way, are you really that upset that Ana got the Candy Tour gig?"

"Of course I am! That position belonged to me!"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"I'm asking you why you think that position was yours."

"Because it's obvious! Honestly, who else in this entire organization has my level of education? And I built GoGo Casino! I've been here longer than Ana. Naturally, when Patrick stepped down, I should have been the one to take over!"

"You have a very interesting worldview, Manager Nam. What, do you think this is a grocery store checkout line? You just wait your turn and get promoted?"

"It's not that, but wasn't I the most qualified candidate?"

"And I'm asking you why, you piece of shit. Just because you went to college?"

"That's a huge part of it! Plus, I'm a founding member, I've lived in the Philippines for years so I know the local landscape inside out, and my academic background is flawless. I don't lack a single thing!"

"Fascinating. But do you want to know the real reason you were passed over?"

"What is it?"

"The DNA of betrayal you carry inside you."

"What?"

"Do you know the psychological term 'projection'?"

"Projection?"

"Deep down, you know you're a piece of garbage. But you don't want to admit it. So, you convince yourself that everyone else is a piece of garbage too. In psychology, that's called projection. The moment you looked at Ana and said you couldn't trust her, you signaled to us that you were the one capable of betrayal."

"That's absolute nonsense!"

"Nonsense? You literally just proved it by betraying us," Sandro said, pointing a finger at Nam Yong-woo.

"Psychology is a beautiful thing. It weeds out the traitors every single time. Ever since then, I've kept a very close eye on your movements. I told you, didn't I? Everyone in Bohol is my eyes and ears. Every time you went somewhere, every time you met someone, they reported back to me. You met those bastards three times. You've got some balls, meeting Chinese mobsters right out in the open in Bohol."

"I just wanted what was mine! That's all!"

"You talk as if we owed you something. Frankly, you should be glad. Even if you had handed over the source code, those bastards wouldn't have paid you. They're completely broke."

"What?"

"Do you honestly think we could entrust Candy Tour to an idiot who can't even verify if his buyers actually have the money to pay him?"

"No!!! That's not true!!!"

Nam Yong-woo couldn't wrap his head around the situation. Sandro knew everything from the very beginning? He predicted my betrayal through psychology? He watched me the whole time, waiting for me to make a move, and only stepped in now because he has definitive proof? It was a setup? Realization washed over him, and cold dread settled deep in his chest. If he didn't do something right now, they would slice his stomach open and rip out his organs. He had to stop them at all costs. He dropped to his knees and began to beg.

"Sandro, I'm sorry. I must have lost my mind. I'll fix this, I'll put everything back the way it was!"

"Put what back? Nothing has changed. We aren't weak enough to stumble over a single rat like you. We treated you well because of your past contributions... but you got too greedy."

"No! I was just going to share some basic technical advice! I know how bad this looks, but I swear, that's all it was!"

"I thought you were just sly, Manager Nam, but you're a coward too. If you say that, what does that make these gentlemen who dreamed of doing business with you? Don't you feel any pity for them?"

"Sandro... no, Director. I'll do better from now on. If you forgive me just this once, I will serve you faithfully for the rest of my life, Director!" He slammed his forehead against the floor, but Sandro's expression remained cold and unyielding.

"What are you waiting for? Drag him out."

"Yes, sir."

Sandro's men knocked Nam Yong-woo unconscious in an instant. They stuffed him into a housekeeping cart and wheeled him out without a sound. Sandro stayed behind, placing a cigarette between his lips. He lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that filled the room.

Alex is a great boss, but his fatal flaw is that he's too trusting.

If he left the naive Alex to his own devices, traitors would crop up like weeds. Maintaining discipline, dealing with turncoats quietly, and clearing away any obstacles to keep the organization running smoothly—that was the silent duty Sandro performed for Alex. When he thought about it, cleaning up Alex's messes was almost comical, yet he relished the role. A shadow guardian, perhaps? Or a true right-hand man? A proud smile tugged at the corners of Sandro's mouth, satisfied that he had done his duty for his boss.

It was then that his phone rang. It was Dae-hoon. Hearing his old friend's voice after so long was a welcome comfort.

It was the truth. He wasn't doing well. He had too many irons in the fire, and funding the elections had drained his cash reserves. But more than anything, Nam Yong-woo's betrayal weighed heavily on his mind. Alex didn't think he had treated the man poorly. In fact, he believed he had treated him exceptionally well. Nam Yong-woo had been the top manager at GoGo Casino, overseeing both the cryptocurrency operations and the exchange. Alex had trusted him completely, keeping his hands off the day-to-day management. He had accommodated Nam Yong-woo's suggestions and opinions as much as possible. He had paid him a lavish salary and given him a prestigious title. He thought he had properly rewarded and recognized the man's contributions to building GoGo Casino, yet Nam Yong-woo had still chosen betrayal. Did I fail him in some way? Alex had wondered. But Sandro had told him that some people betray regardless of how well they are treated. Sandro babbled about the DNA of betrayal and psychology, and claimed he had sent Nam Yong-woo back to Korea. But Alex knew that even if he searched the entire peninsula, he would never find him. The man was likely sleeping somewhere at the bottom of the sea between Korea and the Philippines. Sandro was ruthless, yet loyal in his own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way. He was not a man to hesitate when a hard decision had to be made.

With that, Alex booked a ticket and boarded a flight bound for Korea.