Squad
"Dan-shin. You finished eating?"
"Yes, Director!"
"What do you want for dessert?"
"Dessert?"
"That's right. Name it. The owner here said he'll do his best to accommodate you. You can even ask for red bean shaved ice — he's got red beans stocked up now. Isn't that right, Sanghae?"
"We've got red beans, all right. And oh... we're baking fresh bread in our kitchen these days, too."
"Then I'll have the red bean shaved ice!"
"You hear that? Ten red bean shaved ices. Five for me, five for Dan-shin."
"Who the hell eats ten red bean shaved ices?!"
"What, it's too expensive for you?"
"No, it's not about the money. It's that eating that much cold stuff will wreck your stomach, you fool."
"Well, if I'm gonna turn into a snowman, might as well be now. Bring 'em out."
"Haah... Red beans. I barely managed to get my hands on those from the next shelter over."
"Then go get more."
"If I keep buying them back to back, they'll figure I need a steady supply and jack up the price!"
"Oh, for god's sake! Then pay the damn markup! You rake in money hand over fist — what's with the penny-pinching?"
Grunting and muttering complaints, Sanghae ordered fifteen red bean shaved ices from the kitchen.
"You've got stock and you're still whining about it."
"I complain because I really don't have much."
"Anything worth catching at Ganjeol Point?"
Having said his piece, Won-goo speared the last remaining rice cake from his tteokbokki bowl with a fork and popped it into his mouth.
"There were, but I think you can stop worrying about that now. There's no faction left capable of causing real trouble, Director Gong."
"Still, keep the radar running. And hunt them down to the very last one. If it's anyone you can't handle yourself, at least pass the intel to us."
"Aw, c'mon. Director Gong, you think I can't handle them just because I'm not an executive?"
"Then see it through to the end."
"It's pretty much done, I'm telling you. Is this because of the executives whose fates still haven't been confirmed?"
"It is."
"What could those guys even manage to do?"
"Maybe nothing now. But who's to say that'll hold true later? You know the saying — you never know what life will throw at you. And out in the Field, that applies twice over. Nobody knows how those bastards might grow."
"Hmm..."
"Sanghae. You read martial arts novels back in the day, didn't you?"
"Sure did."
"Then you know the term 'fateful encounter.' Well, this world is crawling with them, scattered all across the Field. It's the perfect climate for turning your life around."
"Fine. I'll have them tracked down to the end."
"The executives go without saying. And of them all, Ogong — that one absolutely has to be found."
"Wasn't he swept away in the earthquake?"
"That's exactly what I doubt. That guy was the second most dangerous bastard at Ganjeol Point, after Ganjeol himself. At least in terms of raw physical ability, he was the top."
"Not All Kind?"
"That bastard was a coin-fed pet project of Ganjeol's. The real deal was Ogong. You only have to look at what he did to Joce to know. You could tell right away the man was no ordinary fighter."
"So Director Gong figures that even if the others didn't make it, that one's still alive somewhere?"
"Probably. It was a devastating quake, no question, but I don't think it was the kind a Named couldn't ride out."
The reason Won-goo's crew and Pacific had taken damage in that earthquake was largely because their circumstances differed from those of other survivors.
Dragging the Trailer along everywhere they went inevitably blunted their agility.
The same went for Pacific. Confined to his wheelchair, there was simply no way for him to respond to something like a sudden earthquake.
Then the fifteen red bean shaved ices arrived. Finely shaved ice topped with a generous scattering of sweetened red beans — a very simple dessert.
Everyone inhaled that simple dessert as if it were their last meal.
Dan-shin went without saying, and even Sanghae, who'd grumbled the whole way, ate his with evident relish.
"So the big stuff is all wrapped up. There are a few requests that've come in for Director Gong — you taking them?"
"Nope. We're on vacation for the time being."
"How long?"
"At least two weeks. Everyone's been run ragged lately."
"Two weeks... You've never rested that long before, have you?"
"No, I haven't."
There were plenty of lazy folk out there who lounged around until their money ran dry like the Fishers did, but Won-goo's crew was far removed from that kind of indolence.
By any standard, they operated on a punishing schedule.
They had taken on work nearly back to back, without pause.
"Anyway, we're not taking jobs for a while, so don't bring any in."
"Not even the lucrative ones?"
"Not even the lucrative ones."
"What about express jobs?"
"That's the same damn thing. Are you messing with me?"
"Got it."
"Dulla! Put your back into it — press down harder on the wing bones!"
"DULLAAA!"
Won-goo was lying face-down, receiving a full massage.
Somehow or other, he'd even gotten his hands on a massage bed.
The sight of the massive Dulla pressing down on Won-goo's back with those enormous hands was a strangely entertaining one.
"Director. We have a visitor."
"A visitor? Didn't I tell you we're not taking requests for a while?"
"The visitor is Baek Seol."
"Ah. Have her come in. Cheol-su, put Dulla back in his capsule."
"Yes, Director!"
The crew members were each enjoying their vacation in their own way.
Some still practically lived at the gambling den, while others, like Cheol-su, had come back to the office to rest after playing themselves out.
Won-goo hurriedly got dressed. It was to hide the enormous Seal on his back.
A short while later, Baek Seol stepped into the office.
Her mask made it impossible to read her expression at a glance.
But Won-goo could tell from her eyes that something quite serious had happened.
"Trouble at the Tower?"
"The Tower is fine."
"Then what?"
"Poke escaped."
"What? What kind of bullshit is that?"
Won-goo's reaction turned violent.
He had handed Poke over to Baek Seol because it was simply the more profitable arrangement.
A fixed portion of Poke's contributions to Baek Seol's organization flowed back to Won-goo as well.
The more money-making work Poke did, the more Won-goo's Labor Services profited — that was the structure.
Because of it, Won-goo had never once filed a complaint, even when appraisals of his items dragged on forever.
And now, out of nowhere, Poke had escaped?
There was no way he couldn't react strongly.
Even with Baek Seol, with whom he maintained as good a relationship as anyone.
"You lost Poke? From your organization of all places?"
"Yes. That's how it stands. But we have something to say on our end too, Director."
"What? Don't tell me it's because of the item I commissioned?"
"It is. And it seems that item was no ordinary object."
"What, was it supposed to grant teleportation or something?"
"No, nothing like that. Its exact ability hasn't been confirmed yet. But one thing is certain — it enhances combat capability."
"So you're telling me Poke punched through your organization's guards and bolted? Using the sword I handed over?"
"It goes beyond that. An entire facility is gone."
It was the moment for a second round of what kind of bullshit is that, but the words wouldn't come out of Won-goo's mouth.
Because it wasn't entirely impossible.
Among certain items, there were those that could transform their bearer into something Named-grade even without a single coin enhancement.
Won-goo knew that line of items well — they were the textbook examples.
"It's a Demonic Sword."
"A Demonic Sword?"
"You said Poke cut through all the guards himself. You're not stupid enough to have left nothing but fools standing post there."
"There were quite a few Named among them."
"That bastard Poke can't fight worth shit. There's only one thing that explains him breaking through a line like that — a Demonic Sword. Dan-shin!"
Even as he spoke with Baek Seol, Won-goo called for Dan-shin.
"Yes, Director."
"Gather the crew. Vacation's over."
Having watched Dan-shin sprint out of the office, Won-goo began putting his gear on.
The new armor set custom-fitted after his run-in with Dae-young took five full layers to complete.
It made changing clothes a tedious chore, but it boasted far superior protection than anything he'd worn before.
Layering the pieces on one by one, Won-goo continued his conversation with Baek Seol.
"Never heard of a Demonic—"
"Such things exist."
"Something like a Named?"
"Close to a Named, yes. But different. A Named is merely a cursed object. There are rules to it — the curse is imposed according to those rules, and that's all. Strip it down, and it's still just an item. A Demonic Sword is another beast entirely. It has a will of its own. It grants its contractor tremendous power, but it demands a price. And that price only ever grows."
"So eventually it devours the contractor?"
"That's one possibility. Which is why we need to catch him fast, before the sword matures. You did attach a tracking team, right? Where did he go?"
"Well, about that..."
"...?"
"The tracking team already clashed with Poke's gang. Once."
At that, the light drained from Won-goo's eyes.
"Baek Seol."
"Yes..."
"When something critical happens, delivering the facts first is what matters. Briefing me in dribs and drabs like this only breeds confusion. Facts. I'm telling you again, right now — you left out two major points. One, Poke isn't alone. Two, a considerable amount of time has already passed since his escape."
"..."
"Holding it back until the moment I'm about to walk out the door does nothing whatsoever to contain the situation."
"Yes... Leadership has already issued orders to comply with your directives without question."
"Spare me the obvious. Get the essentials out on the table. How many are there?"
Baek Seol produced a tablet and handed it over.
A few taps of her finger, and the screen lit up.
First, Poke's profile.
And below it, the profiles of the prisoners who had escaped alongside him.
Every last one was a vicious piece of work — and among them were several of Named grade.
"Well, I'll be..."
Won-goo, studying the screen intently, let out a low groan.
Most of the faces were familiar. Most of them had history with him, in fact.
But he had been on the outside, and they had ended up as prisoners of the sugar syndicate — so it was hardly history of the pleasant kind.
"Fuck... Were you planning to assemble a goddamn Suicide Squad?"
"..."
"Haah... Hoppang? You kept even this lunatic alive?"
The roster was packed with enough lunatics as it was, but the one who finally stopped Won-goo's scrolling hand was a survivor going by the nickname Hoppang.
A moniker earned from the unnaturally plump, puffy flesh of his face.
"Baek Seol. I got the sense your company was a bit of a dumpster fire back during the Tower incident. But looking at this today? It's worse than I thought. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that several of these people had been dealt with."
"They were dealt with — right up until they escaped that facility."
"I can't just let this slide. I'll let it go for now because we're pressed for time, but—"
"I know. They're preparing thoroughly on their end too."
"Prepared or not... now what the hell is this? Gu In-seon? You kept this psycho bitch alive too?"
He'd assumed Hoppang was the most dangerous name on the list. Then there was one more.
Gu In-seon.
The shaman his crew had captured when they raided the Black Shelter.
Jeon Hye-ji's opening strike had landed a jackpot, making the capture look almost effortless — but in truth, she was one of the most dangerous individuals out there.
Her Gift, peculiar as it was, worked directly on the target's mind.
Against Won-goo's crew, whose mental defenses were ironclad, she was little threat. But to any other survivor, Gu In-seon was nothing short of a walking calamity.
"Oh, right — Baek Seol. Weren't you supposed to use this Gu In-seon for experiments and then dispose of her?"
"I have nothing to say about that."
"No, you'd better have plenty to say. I distinctly remember us putting it in writing. A contract, if I recall?"
The staggering volume of coins that Won-goo's crew raked in all came from side revenue exactly this lucrative.
"There was no problem with the contract. No deadline was ever specified for when the experiments would take place."
"Baek Seol."
"Yes."
"The moment you start playing games with a signed contract, who's supposed to trust you? Today's the day a crack starts showing in that trust of yours."
"I have no defense. And as for that—"
"Yeah, whatever compensation you were going to offer and the rest of it. We'll sit down and settle the score on this one properly, later. For now — is there anything else you're sitting on? These eleven people. That's everyone?"
"Yes. As far as our intelligence shows, that's all of them."
"And what did they run off with? That workshop they gutted had equipment, didn't it?"
"That..."
BANG!
Just as Baek Seol opened her mouth to explain, Lee Hyun-sung came barreling up and flung open the office door.
Whenever a summons went out, the first to arrive was always, without fail, Lee Hyun-sung.
This time was no different. He got there first, caught his breath in a hurry, and bowed deeply toward Won-goo.
"Hyeong-nim! You called for me!"
"I did. Sorry to cut your vacation short, but we have a situation. Round up the crew."
"Yes, Hyeong-nim! Your humble brother departs at once!"