Underground
"But this wasn't the extent of what Director Gong had planned, was it? Aren't you supposed to wrap an incident up roughly according to the original plan?"
Fresh's point had some merit.
"Even if there's something regrettable, you've got to know when to let it go. The underground facility wasn't something we anticipated, and my gut is screaming that it's dangerous."
"Hmm..."
At the mention of his gut feeling, everyone reacted with grim seriousness. Except for Potion and Montage, most of them had been through a lot alongside Won-goo. They knew all too well how sharp his instincts were.
"Taking out about half the executives should be enough."
"You're thinking this much is enough to make running the shelter difficult, right, Hyung-nim?"
That was Sapiens.
"Nope. Getting it back up and running won't be any trouble at all. There's such a thing as know-how. These bastards aren't complete idiots — you think they can't do it again?"
That was Ah-bal, her neck freshly reattached.
"Ah-bal's right. They'll have racked up plenty of know-how by now. But here's what we can't overlook — with a business like this, once word gets out that it's been hit once, recovery becomes extremely difficult. And then there's the Ganjeolgot Coalition. They haven't even gotten a proper taste of our hand yet."
"Now that you mention it, there was Ganjeolgot too."
"Besides, aren't we hauling off all the facilities down here anyway?"
"Then them bastards that ran off could come circling back outside, couldn't they?"
"Aigoo, Dr. Woo. Things like that, you'll have to handle individually on your own. What do you want us to do, hand out street justice too?"
"It ain't exactly ordinary street justice, now is it?"
"You're getting ahead of yourself. That's a problem for later. Let's wrap things up here and divvy up the spoils. Like we all agreed — whatever you personally bagged, you keep. As for the facilities up top here — you all know the drill. Bad people with a lot of sins tend to hoard things carefully. There's bound to be a decent haul when we dig through them. Now then. The biggest prize of all — the tank lorry here. Who wants to claim it first?"
Loot distribution was one of the processes most likely to spark a fight. Things went smoothly often enough, but the more teams gathered in one place, the more often the split turned into a bloodbath of shouting. There was an old saying that the loudest voice won, after all. Plenty of survivors lived by the belief that if you didn't shout loud enough, you'd be the one getting beaten down.
Even survivors classified as Named were no exception.
It never escalated to actual bloodshed, but the words were getting uglier and the voices louder by the minute. The atmosphere was turning heavy — and the man who flipped that current in a single stroke was Gong Won-goo, the one who had planned the whole operation.
And once again, people found themselves reconsidering just what kind of ability this man possessed. Potion and Montage felt it more keenly than anyone.
The trouble over the loot had started the moment the tank lorry — the single biggest prize — came up. Anyone could see it was the largest haul of the entire operation. The only problem was the argument over whether the thing counted as one-and-a-half shares or two.
If it was pegged at 1.5, then the remaining trailers would be divided on that same basis. If it was assessed at 2, the standard shifted, and everyone's share of the trailers changed accordingly. Since the tank lorry effectively set the benchmark, neither side could afford to back down.
Won-goo watched the situation quietly, then intervened at precisely the right moment.
"Alright! Everybody, quiet down for a second. Keep this up and more blood's going to spill before the loot's even divided. Let's set aside the question of how many shares this thing is worth for now."
"Then what? What's your play?"
That was Fresh. He was every bit as fired up about the loot split. If it had been just him and Won-goo working a job, he never would have pushed like this. But this time, a whole crowd of crews had come together for the operation. He couldn't afford to be branded a sucker. If he gave off that impression, next time they'd try to skin him for even more.
Fresh was a veteran who'd been through it all. And on top of that, this time he had a justification he couldn't back down from. He'd pulled in a massive chunk of his old connections to get them involved in this operation, and the involvement had cost casualties. Which meant he absolutely had to walk away with his proper due — that was the only way to keep his standing in this world intact.
Won-goo knew that too, which was why he didn't actively stop him. He and Fresh had already finished the math on this whole arrangement behind the scenes. One word from him and he could have shut Fresh down. Instead, he let him run with it — giving him time to hammer home the impression that Fresh had fought hard enough and long enough.
"So here's what we're doing. First, hear me out. Nobody's got a problem with me taking this tank lorry, right? Nobody's going to grumble about this one. Right?"
Everyone felt the pull of greed, but none of them could bring themselves to actually demand it. Even this lawless world had its unwritten basics: the planner of the operation, the one who led it, took the biggest prize. And everyone could see the tank lorry was the biggest prize here — it alone was worth several trailers. On top of that, it was the place where the shelter's boss was presumed to have stayed. Crack it open and there was bound to be plenty inside.
"Right, no argument here."
"Director Gong should take that one, aye. So then..."
"Dr. Woo, that's enough. Stop. We're deciding ownership before we weigh anything. Montage Hyung-nim."
"Wha'?"
"You two can work that out between yourselves and split it, can't you?"
He tipped his chin toward Potion.
"Well, wouldn' see why not."
"Then take the tank here."
At that, everyone's eyes went round as saucers.
"You're all about to tear each other's heads off over this thing, so let's just pass on it and start from there. Weren't we fighting over whether this counts as one-and-a-half shares or two? Montage Hyung-nim. How about it? Good with you?"
"Hah. Wha's there to hate? Me, I take whatever's given when it's given."
"And you? Fine with that?"
"Yes. Let's do it that way."
"Then it's settled. Doesn't matter anymore how many shares this thing counts as — it went to the team from outside, and you two can hash it out yourselves. So now the rest of us split everything except this. No more reason for anyone to get their hackles up. Right?"
Not a single person mobilized for this operation was a rookie. Everyone's math was fast.
The only one who'd fallen short of her assigned role was Ah-bal. Everyone else had handled their targets without fail — which was probably why Ah-bal didn't voice any real complaint about the split this time. They all knew exactly what a nightmare she became once she started acting up. With her staying quiet, everyone kept things civil and stopped at a reasonable line.
The split was settled at three trailers per team, with another three added on for any team that had taken down an executive. Where multiple teams had worked a target together, they agreed to divide that share among themselves.
Once the settling was done, the departure went off without a hitch. Each team had already chained up the trailers from their assigned zones and readied them for transport.
"Hyung-nim. What about the trailers left over there?"
"Seokbong's taking those."
"To Black Shelter?"
"That's right."
"Even for a guy like that..."
As Sapiens spoke, a faint kill-glint passed through Won-goo's eyes.
"Hey. Didn't I just give you a hell of a scare?"
"..."
"Cracks start with the small stuff. He cooperated to the max and did real work — that's a fact."
"Well..."
"Don't make a show of it. You look after Seokbong from now on, got it?"
"Fine... if you say so, Hyung-nim, I'll do it. But Hyung-nim... isn't that guy a different case? A bastard who's been welded to Black Shelter..."
"Think of it as history between us. I don't trust him all the way either. But that bastard has never once stuck a knife in my back. He grates on my nerves, sure, but when it counted, he came through. And this operation's going to hit him hard too. So you take care of him. Isn't that how it should be?"
"That part's true..."
"You still haven't shaken your old habits. Separate friend from foe, clean and clear. As few enemies as possible, as many friends as possible. Maybe not a lifelong bosom buddy, but at least someone who won't grumble. Besides, every business outfit around here is about to see their income climb off the back of this job. What are you being so greedy about?"
Sapiens couldn't really argue back.
If the unsanctioned Black Shelter disappeared, people would naturally flood into the official shelters. Even those blacklisted from the official ones would still need supplies — they'd just go through brokers to get them. Obviously, that was nothing but good for the shelter's business. It had been true before the apocalypse, and it was true now: the money flowing in was tied directly to power.
"Won-goo Hyung-nim!"
A thick, booming voice rang out. It was Joce, under Montage's command. They'd exchanged formal greetings at the drinking session after the Coin Exchange incident — Won-goo being the elder, the two had settled on a big-brother, little-brother arrangement. Montage's people kept iron discipline about that kind of thing, and Joce extended the same courtesy to Won-goo, walking over and bowing at a full ninety degrees again.
"Joce."
"Yes, Hyung-nim. Could I borrow a moment..."
"Before that — you haven't properly greeted the man here, have you? This is Sapiens. He's got the entertainment side of our neighborhood shelter all locked up."
"Ah, is tha' so? I did see him las' time."
"A proper greeting's different all the same. Do it formally."
Sapiens was no man to miss a cue. He squared himself up and offered the greeting right away.
"Just call me Dong, the representative. Comfortable and easy."
"Sapiens works fine too. Right?"
"Well... yes."
"This here's Joce. Strong as an ox and a hell of a fighter."
"An' I got lungs full of courage too, Hyung-nim."
"That you do. Well, you've seen it, but when it comes to Montage — that hyung over there is the absolute best at reading traces, tailing people, all of it. Even with all the years I've put in, I'll say it straight: his skills are the best. So Sapiens, when trouble finds you, call on this side."
"If you're vouching that hard, that's all the guarantee I need. Understood."
"So, Joce — what is it? Trouble with the goods? You wrapped up with the two tank lorries, didn't you?"
"Our work's done, aye. But we found somethin', so I came to say."
"Found what?"
"Well, it's..."
"Just say it. Everyone here already knows everything worth knowing."
"We... found some kiddies."
"Kiddies? You mean children?"
"Yes, aye. Looks like they were kiddies born right here in this place."
Won-goo's eyes turned razor-sharp.
"Of course. Scum like this never stops at just one evil. Where?"
"This way, aye."
Inside a trailer, a group of about ten children huddled together. Their faces were all different, their ages hovering around three or four — and some were younger still.
Won-goo's face soured at the sight. The other crew members looked no better.
"This is... this isn't even an IS situation... Is that all of them? There have to be mothers around somewhere?"
Montage and Potion both shook their heads. The answer wrote itself: either the executives had taken the women with them, or they hadn't been found yet.
"That's a bone-deep nasty one. Haah. For now... Ttugi!"
"Yes, Hyung-nim."
"Hand out something to drink and eat. And keep a close eye on them."
"Understood, Hyung-nim."
"And Montage Hyung-nim."
"Wha'?"
"Take a look with me."
"Wha' is it now?"
"While you were working the site, you didn't happen to see any tattooed bastards, did you?"
"There were tattooed ones, aye. But wha' about 'em?"
"Not just any tattoos. Guys covered head to toe in ink."
"Didn' see any."
"Tch. Figures."
Won-goo's goals included gutting Black Shelter's power, but taking out the Seal Collectors was part of it too. The fact that they hadn't shown their faces meant one of two things: they'd slipped out far earlier, or they'd fled underground alongside the executives.
Tight enough with the executives to run with them... that makes it even uglier.
Unsettling — but for now, there wasn't much he could do about it.
"Director Gong. What are you planning to do with the children?"
Mu Beob-sa came over and asked. Won-goo stood there in silence, already lighting his second cigarette.
"Already decided. I'm handing them over to Baek Seol."
"Baek Seol. Is that an acceptable part of the plan?"
"It's the best option there is. With Baek Seol, they won't go hungry."
"Still..."
"They'll be working in the factory, but... given the situation, that's better than most."
"That place is hardly an ordinary factory, is it not?"
"You got a better idea? Kids that little aren't going to be given real work anyway. They'll just run odd jobs."
"..."
"But at Baek Seol's place, they'll be safe. Fed properly, too. Right now, I can't see any other answer."
It sat heavy on Mu Beob-sa's chest, but there was nothing more he could say. He didn't have a better proposal to offer either.