My Territory
A massive wall encircled the outskirts of the Namdong Industrial Complex. Not the whole thing, of course—just sections where the gangs' rampages had gotten out of hand, overwhelming the city's complaints and casualties until they threw up barriers in desperation. It didn't do much good. You could just climb over them, and since they didn't cover every inch, a simple detour worked fine. People determined to escape the Namdong Industrial Complex weren't the type to be stopped by a wall anyway.
Still, for minimal safety and psychological comfort, they'd built these barriers and even fancy gates. That was over a decade ago. Now, those historic gates were crumbling into pathetic ruins. The only hint of their former glory was the police tape strung haphazardly around them—the oppressive aura long gone.
"Whoa... that gate's in such bad shape...."
Danto stared blankly at it, lost in nostalgia over the iconic structure that had isolated her lifelong home from the world. She approached wistfully, reached out to stroke the gate—
Ptooey.
—and spat instead. A thick glob of phlegm clung to the wall, stretching downward.
"Danto, that's cultural heritage vandalism. Repair costs would run about 150 million won."
"Huh? Why the hell is this cultural heritage???"
"Kidding."
"..."
Every dumb joke made her eyes flash with menace. Aigoo, scary stuff.
We ducked under the yellow police tape and stepped inside, where the real headquarters—officially the reconstruction office—was set up. The outskirts had felt somewhat peaceful, thanks to the ajummas, but this was pure chaos. The true start of the Namdong Industrial Complex?
The vibe was totally different. Uniformed personnel dashed about frantically, while inside the makeshift container buildings, people hunched over dozens of monitors barked into comms. Most were cops dispatched from headquarters.
The sky wasn't quiet either. AVs stamped with blue stripes shuttled supplies nonstop, hauling debris and delivering essentials. Red-cross-marked medical AVs zipped by occasionally.
"That's why we parked the AV outside."
The airspace was a madhouse, especially around here.
Flash!
A burst of light erupted in the distance. A dark-red mushroom cloud bloomed, shockwaves rippling outward, warping the air. The ground rumbled thrum-thrum-thrum. Yet everyone just kept at their tasks, unfazed. Probably routine by now—too commonplace to react to.
BOOM! The thunderclap hit a beat later. Another flash and mushroom cloud followed somewhere else.
"Ah, man."
Then a young male officer in charge of operations spotted me and whipped off his cap. His unwashed, matted hair flopped out messily. I'd seen him before, during the Namdong sweep—some special ops guy, I vaguely recalled.
"Sorry for the mess, young master. Didn't know you were coming."
"I showed up unannounced."
He greeted me with dark circles dragging under his eyes. Exhaustion radiated off him—I almost felt bad. Looked like he hadn't slept properly, running on awakening agents maybe.
"Nothing fancy to offer, but how about some coffee? It's decent."
He handed over a canned coffee from a vending machine—250ml, about 2,000 won a pop.
"Fancy stuff."
No reason to refuse. I took it and sipped.
"As you can see, things are going smoothly."
"I heard it was mostly wrapped up."
"Suppression's done. Mop-up's got a ways to go."
"How far?"
"Hmm~ At this rate? Maybe a month."
No kidding.
"Still, this is good progress. The gangs are terrified—no real resistance, no organization. That's why reconstruction kicked off right away."
"How's reconstruction going?"
"The office'll give you a clearer picture. Head that way. You threw massive manpower at this."
"Gotta secure citizen safety faster, right?"
"Heh. Exactly."
He chuckled knowingly, like he saw through my ulterior motives. Fair enough—I wouldn't buy it either. Who would?
"Gotta get back to it. Thanks for the coffee."
"Yeah. Keep up the good work."
Short chat over, I moved on. No need to drag it out with him.
"They're working hard."
"They're cops."
"..."
Sua piped up, maybe stung by my earlier comment. She cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away.
"Have the company donate to the agencies involved. Make sure everyone here's well-stocked too. Keep weird rumors from starting."
"Yes, sir."
The Namdong reconstruction office was huge—seemed like more people than the cops hunting remnants.
"G-Gasp, sir...!"
A few secretaries and execs from related firms rushed over, startled.
"Y-You came?"
"Why so jumpy? Something wrong?"
"N-No, not that. Just... sudden visit...."
Glancing around, it was a mix: site foremen wrangling laborers, industrial robot operators, even a few congressional aides and reporters. All eyes on me. My secretaries blocked the press.
'These types spreading weird rumors, huh.'
I scanned the area, pondering the reporters. They'd dug into my moves and concluded something like, 'This guy's pushing so hard—he must be gunning for politics!'
'Not a baseless guess.'
I reflected on my actions. I'd egged on special prosecutors to uproot sex scandals in Incheon's entertainment world, released a "standard contract banning all physical contact" under the banner of idols' rights and sexual autonomy, and scooped up over a thousand displaced female celebs. Then dove into corrections, burning billions on a women-only prison plan. Poured astronomical funds, manpower, and military might into reclaiming Namdong. Beat down the greedy district head hogging credit, then gave a live citizen speech.
Yeah, easy to think I had political ambitions.
'No wonder those baseless ajummas run wild.'
They figure I'm eyeing politics, so I'll care about public opinion—hence the nonsense. 'Corporations act ruthless for a reason.' Can't show weakness. Squeeze tight, and they bow like you're heaven.
I gathered the secretaries.
"Saw weirdos buzzing outside?"
"Uh... no, we were focused here...."
"Some randos claiming to be local reps, trying to mooch. Beat 'em down if they show. Kill 'em if needed. Once the flies swarm, it's over."
"B-But sir, until the reconstruction budget's approved, maybe keep it quiet? Bad press won't help."
"Oh, the budget?"
Right, that.
"Kim Eun-ji's handling it. Don't worry."
"Got it."
I got a rundown on progress while surveying, then arranged an armored vehicle for Danto. Thick bulletproof glass, insane plating—no gang trash could dent it. We rode through the complex interior, scouting spots. Up close, the devastation hit harder than from afar. Different vibe from when I'd come for Ninelord.
'Time to bulldoze this and build my city.'
My mind already held a sleek, ultra-modern Namdong—not this wreck.
'Rename it too. Not an "industrial complex" anymore. All mine—Mu-yeol Land?'
Fun fantasy either way. With the gangs gone for real, it felt like yanking an aching tooth.
"Ah, master."
Sua interrupted my reverie.
"Financial regulators finished reviewing Mu-yeol Finance's incorporation. Approved smoothly."
"Oh?"
Perfect timing—the finance corp was official.