A Flood of Complaints

"Dae-hun. We need to take over Seoul."

Cough, cough!

Dae-hun, who was busy eating cold noodles in his hotel room, choked and began coughing violently. A stray noodle seemed to have gotten stuck in his windpipe, keeping him hacking for a good while.

"Wh-whaddya say?"

His voice was raspy, a noodle clearly still lingering in his throat.

Yet, I remained completely unfazed.

"I said, we need to take over Seoul."

Dae-hun let out a dry, scoffing laugh, as if I had just told the world's most ridiculous joke.

"Just eat your Seoul cold noodles, man. What do you mean, 'take over Seoul'?"

"I'm serious. This is bad."

"Look, buddy. Stop talking nonsense and just eat your noodles. Seoul isn't some hamburger you can just devour whenever you feel like it."

Dae-hun clearly didn't grasp the gravity of the situation.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Drug Candy I had confiscated—or rather, stolen—from the college student earlier, sliding it across the table.

"Job seekers are eating this."

"What is this? Isn't it just candy? Can I have one?"

"Don't touch it. Unless you want to become a junkie."

"Huh? A junkie?"

Only then did Dae-hun's eyes widen in surprise.

"It's candy laced with drugs."

"Seriously? There's stuff like this? I've only heard rumors, but this is my first time seeing it in person. If someone just handed this to me, I'd never know. I wouldn't suspect a thing."

Dae-hun stared at the candy, fascinated.

"Exactly. And they say it's incredibly easy to get."

"I heard drugs are easy to come by these days, but this is worse than I thought."

"If job seekers, office workers, and housewives are eating stuff like this, is that right?"

"No, of course not."

"Then shouldn't we stop it?"

"Are you crazy? Why should we stop it? That's what customs, the police, and the narcotics unit are for. Isn't that why we pay taxes?"

"They're not doing their jobs right. So we have to."

"It's not that they're incompetent, they probably just have their hands full. And In-bae, let's not forget our roles. We're gangsters. Mobsters."

"Haha. You're the gangster. I'm just a travel agency employee."

"Bullshit. What kind of travel agency employee controls half of the Philippines?"

"Controls what? I'm just living my life as a humble tour guide."

"Tour guide, my ass. Most of our guys think of you as the actual boss. Me included."

"Don't say that. People will misunderstand."

"What misunderstanding? It's the truth. You're the main reason we were able to establish ourselves like this."

"What did I even do?"

"I know how hard you worked. That's why I'll follow your lead."

"Huh?"

"Let's take over Seoul."

"Really? Just like that? No warning, just cutting right in?"

"Yeah. I was already thinking about it. Not taking over the whole city like you're suggesting—I was just planning to dip my toes in to expand our territory."

"Perfect. We might as well take the whole thing this time."

"It's not as easy as it sounds."

"We'll do it together."

"Before that, there are a few things you need to know."

"Like what?"

"First, it's going to be incredibly hard."

"Well... I figured as much."

"No, it'll be way harder than you think. Even if we're a massive organization controlling Jeolla Province and parts of Chungcheong, we're nothing compared to Seoul. We have the numbers, but financially, we can't compete. In terms of scale, are we even a sixth of Seoul? Maybe a tenth?"

"..."

"And just taking over Seoul means nothing. If it were just for money, carving out a single corner of Seoul would be lucrative enough. But if we want to stop the drugs, we have to control not just Seoul, but the entire metropolitan area. We have to take Incheon too. And secure Busan. It's going to be brutally hard, exhausting, and there will be a bloodbath every single day."

"No joke, huh?"

"We are severely lacking in manpower, funds, and political backing to fight this war. Success is highly unlikely. We'll probably get knocked down the moment we start."

"Is it ultimately a money issue?"

"Money is one thing, but in the end, it's about people. Say we get lucky and take over one district in Seoul. We'll take casualties. Do you think the Seoul bastards will wait for us to heal? The moment they smell blood, they'll swarm us from all sides. We don't have the strength to withstand that. Those cunning Seoul bastards will unite just to devour us."

"Tough."

"The second point is even worse."

"What's the second point?"

"Even if we pull off this crazy stunt, we still won't be able to stop the drugs."

"What? Why? If we control the metropolitan area, can't we stop them?"

"Say we control Seoul, or even the whole country. The only thing we can stop is the distribution to clubs and entertainment establishments. And even then, only officially. We can't stop the guys doing deonjigi or the employees selling them under the table. We're not the police. We can't raid them. It'll just lead to endless turf wars."

"Dead-drops?"

"Hiding the drugs in places out of sight. Fire hydrants, gas pipes, outdoor AC units, flowerbeds, mailboxes... they hide them in advance, and when they get contacted, they send the coordinates. They communicate strictly through encrypted messaging apps. Even if a drop is discovered, the seller remains anonymous, and there's no way to trace the supplier."

"Those bastards are creative."

"That's why we can't stop it."

"So what you're saying is: taking over Seoul is extremely difficult, highly damaging, and has a low chance of success. And even if we endure all the losses and somehow manage to take over, we still can't stop the drugs? Is that it?"

"Exactly."

This is different from what I envisioned. I thought if we just took over Seoul, we could easily stop the drugs. I thought even if we bled, locking down Seoul would bring things under control, but apparently not. Then is there even a point in taking over Seoul? If we can't even stop the drugs, there's no need to shed blood for nothing. Especially when taking over Seoul is so difficult. Even if we lock down the clubs, customers trade among themselves, waiters distribute them for extra cash, and dead-drops are a whole other beast. Fundamentally, if customs can't stop them at the border, it's impossible to track where and how they spread. They're incredibly stealthy goods. Ironically, when a syndicate imports them in bulk and distributes them, the supply chain is clear and easy to track. But when small-time smugglers bring them in bit by bit, there's no way to verify the volume or the routes. I need to think of another way.

While I was lost in thought, Dae-hun spoke up.

"But since the boss ordered it, I'll do it. We'll take over Seoul."

"Huh? You don't have to. Didn't you say taking over Seoul won't stop the drug distribution anyway?"

"It won't. But how can I ignore an order from the boss? We have to go through with it."

"No, don't do it."

"We were already biding our time. If you told us to conquer Seoul overnight, it'd be impossible. But if we take our time, we actually have a slight chance."

"Don't push yourselves."

"Don't worry. My men's lives are as precious to me as my own. I have no intention of sending my boys to their deaths."

"You idiot, that's exactly why I'm worried."

"If we take over Seoul, we might not wipe out the drugs completely, but we can definitely curb them."

"Haha. That's more than enough."

"We can't do it quickly. We'll take it slow."

"Yeah. I'll put it out of my mind for now."

I pondered for a moment, then reached into my suitcase—pretending to pull something out, though I was actually retrieving it from my Inventory. It was a heavy black bag. Inside were several handguns, spare magazines, and boxes of ammunition. I placed the bag on the table in front of Dae-hun.

"What's this? It's not even Christmas, and you're giving me a present?"

"Do I look like Santa to you?"

"What is it then?"

"Open it."

Dae-hun opened the bag and gasped.

"Th-this... are these... guns?"

"You know how to use them, right?"

"Of course. I've shot plenty."

"I know it's going to be tough. So don't die. And don't let the boys die either. If anyone gives you shit, shoot first and bury them later. It's better to face a police investigation than to have our boys die."

"That'll still cause massive problems, though."

"If you worry about that, you'll never get anything done. Isn't a police investigation better than watching our family get stabbed? Once we've made up our minds, let's just run straight ahead. If trouble arises, we'll deal with it then. And as for the political side, establish as many connections as you can."

"The political side?"

"You said it yourself earlier. We don't have backing. Build that backing. Buy them meals, buy them drinks, give them whatever they want. Give them everything. It'll come back to you tenfold. Don't be stingy with the money you spend on politicians. Even if they're greedy, pay them. It's still cheaper in the long run."

"Will this actually work?"

"Don't bet on probability. Just keep doing it until it works. What did we learn at the Special Warfare School?"

"If it doesn't work..."

The forgotten motto flashed through Seo Dae-hun's mind. The motto carved into the tower at the Special Warfare School. Just thinking about those days made his blood boil. He had grown complacent in his position as a syndicate boss. Now, Seo Dae-hun was a challenger once again.

Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring.

Detective Corporal Lee Gyeong-uk of the Jeollanam-do Metropolitan Investigation Unit grimaced the moment the phone rang. Another civil complaint. Ever since they returned from Seoul, these complaint calls had been flooding in. The moment he hung up, it would ring again. He couldn't ignore them. Under the State Public Officials Act and the Act on the Processing of Civil Petitions, ignoring them could lead to disciplinary action. A disciplinary mark now would hinder his future promotions.

Lee Gyeong-uk wanted a long career in the police force. He didn't expect to rise to the very top, but he didn't want any blemishes on his record over something so trivial. He glared at his team leader sitting nearby and picked up the phone.

"This is Detective Corporal Lee Gyeong-uk of the Jeollanam-do Metropolitan Investigation Unit."

"Yes, ma'am. I understand. I will transfer you to 112."

"Yes, I apologize, but that is not our department's jurisdiction. The 112 dispatch will send local officers. I'll transfer you now."

"That's not what I meant..."

"Yes, yes. I apologize. I'll connect you to 112."

The moment he hung up, the phone rang again.

"This is Detective Corporal Lee Gyeong-uk of the Jeollanam-do Metropolitan Investigation Unit."

"I will transfer you to the Traffic Department."

"Yes, yes. I apologize."

After barely managing to hang up on the caller threatening to file a complaint, Lee Gyeong-uk glared at his team leader once more and stepped outside the office to smoke.

Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring.

The phone rang again. Team Leader Moon Gang-su was still in the office, but he didn't pick up. His expression was completely blank, as if his soul had left his body. He just sat slumped in his chair, looking like he had lost all will to do anything.

Lately, it wasn't just the members of Violent Crime Investigation Team 3, but the entire Jeollanam-do Provincial Police Agency that looked at Team Leader Moon Gang-su with pure hatred.

All because of these complaint calls.

Ever since the day they returned from meeting Seo Dae-hun, the Jeollanam-do Provincial Police Agency had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bombarded with civil complaints. They weren't prank calls; they were legitimate complaints. But instead of calling 112, they called the provincial agency directly.

While some complaints were manageable, many were impossible to resolve directly. When the police explained that the distance was too far to dispatch and offered to transfer them to 112, the callers would fly into a rage, yelling, "You bastards have time to go all the way to Seoul to eat bean sprout soup, but you can't even come here when a citizen is struggling?!"

At first, the other officers didn't understand what was going on. But it didn't take long for them to realize that Team Leader Moon Gang-su had caused a massive blunder.

The Jeollanam-do Provincial Police Agency's daily operations were practically paralyzed by the sheer volume of complaint calls. Some departments resorted to unplugging their phone lines to get work done, only to get caught during a surprise inspection by the Internal Affairs team and face disciplinary action. Ironically, the Internal Affairs team had also dispatched because of a civil complaint.

Yet, the phones kept ringing.

With operations paralyzed and the number of disciplined officers rising, the rest of the force naturally looked at Moon Gang-su with utter resentment. They treated him like a piece of trash.

Moon Gang-su felt deeply wronged.

Honestly, he admitted he might have pushed things a bit too far. But just because there was no visible crime didn't mean they wouldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠find anything if they dug deep enough. Even those noble conglomerate chairmen would spill something if you locked them in a room and grilled them for a few hours. You lock them up first, and as you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠investigate, more dirt keeps coming out. That was basic investigative procedure. Everyone did it.

And honestly, Gong In-bae was highly suspicious. He had seen him bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle at the funeral. There was definitely something there. Even if they were former classmates, treating him like that made no sense. If that were normal, he should have treated all 216 of his classmates from the Special Warfare School the same way. Besides, the two of them had served in completely different units. Yet he claimed they did it just because they were friends? It was impossible to believe.

So he wanted to dig into his background. It was pure instinct. He felt that if he tailed him, he would land something massive.

Instead, he was the one who got caught.

Honestly, when Seo Dae-hun threatened to make trouble for him, he had laughed it off. What could a punk like him possibly do? At most, he'd cause some minor scenes or get into street fights. If he caused minor trouble, Moon Gang-su would actually be grateful. He could use that as an excuse to sweep them all up. He figured he could arrest them, grill them, and find something else.

But civil complaints? He never saw that coming.

Sure, he could endure the phone calls. But the cold glares from his fellow officers were truly unbearable. In an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠instant, he had become the biggest nuisance in the entire police agency.

He was now seriously contemplating whether he should just resign.