Chapter 67
Han Jeong-woo's mind had been tangled for days after rejecting China's proposal.
"Looking at the proposal, the other side seemed to have a pretty strong sense of national pride... I can't predict what kind of response we'll get."
Putting aside the part about traditional Chinese medicine—which he couldn't for the life of him figure out why it was even included among the three conditions—the terms were actually fairly reasonable from what fairly reasonable from what China might propose. A joint venture with a state-owned enterprise, leaving aside the impossible demand to disclose the formulation recipe, was actually a pretty solid option when considering entry into the Chinese market.
Of course, since they had no plans for a global launch whatsoever, they would have rejected it regardless of what conditions were offered.
Knock knock knock.
Three knocks echoed, and several people entered. The executive office team and key personnel who steered the ship called Cheonmun Group.
"Good morning, everyone. It's already been three days since we sent our rejection. Any movement from the other side?"
When he asked the most concerning question, the chief of the executive office met Han Jeong-woo's gaze directly.
"No direct movements yet. Since we don't have any business within China, I think it's still too early to jump to conclusions."
Han Jeong-woo pondered for a moment after hearing the chief's answer, then spoke.
"This is just my personal opinion, but based on the proposal they handed over, I'd say there's a high probability it was an arbitrary and reckless offer."
Common sense would say it's hard to believe that a business venture involving massive profits would proceed based on one individual's independent judgment—something close to a miscalculation. But considering China's nature as a country, and the fact that the world doesn't always run on common sense, it was entirely possible.
"There's been no additional response, but our ampoules have probably already been handed over and analyzed by now."
Hearing Han Jeong-woo's murmur, which was close to a mutter to himself, the head of strategic planning flipped through his tablet.
"We estimate that a significant number of ampoules were smuggled overseas through unofficial channels. There's evidence that quite a large quantity flowed into China through brokers and cargo carriers. We're currently establishing a response protocol assuming the worst-case scenario."
When he came to his senses, they were already inside the eye of the storm.
Beijing, China — National No. 1 Life Science Research Institute.
Equipment worth tens and hundreds of billions of won, electron microscopes running nonstop—the white-haired research director pushed open the door and walked in.
"What are the analysis results?"
When the white-haired director asked irritably, the lead researcher pointed at the monitor with hollow eyes./p>
"Director... it's a bit strange. The moment we applied heat to separate the molecular structure using the mass spectrometer, the ampoule's components completely collapsed."
The director's face naturally twisted at the lead researcher's answer.
"What the hell does that mean? Are you saying the ampoule exploded or something?"
"No, it's just that the chemical structure collapsed... the contents turned into nothing but water, gel, and common amino acid residue."
The director's face completely contorted at those words.
"That's absurd! It's just a chemical product made by a tiny company in a tiny country, and it—"
"It's not complete, but we tried to extract the components and replicate the formula..."
The lead researcher's voice grew quieter, like an ant's. The director glared at him and asked irritably.
"And?"
"Forget achieving the targeted hair loss treatment—the moment you apply It, the scalp burns, causing severe dermatitis and turning into a poison that causes even healthy people to lose their hair."
The researcher, his throat apparently parched, took a sip of water from a cup and continued in a trembling voice.
"At this point, reverse-engineering that ampoule is impossible. It's like trying to find a single grain of sand in an endless desert..."
Hearing that, the research director stared blankly at the transparent ampoule sitting inside the incubator.
"Do you know what happened to Director Wang?"
Director Wang, who had ordered them to reverse-engineer the ampoule, the ampoule, hadn't been seen for days.
"...I don't know."
Hearing the lead researcher's answer, the director let out a deep sigh.
"The Central Commission for Discipline Inspection dragged him in. He was stripped of his party membership too."
"What? Suddenly why—"
"Like I'd know the internal affairs of the Party. I don't know the details, but he must have done something the Party didn't like. So he's gone."
Without even glancing at the lead researcher, the director had been staring at the ampoule in the incubator. He turned his gaze to look at him.
"Continue the research. Those are orders from above."
He resented the higher-ups for throwing this impossible task at him, but he was just a lead researcher—he couldn't refuse.
"...Understood."
Same time, underground interrogation room on the outskirts of Beijing.
Summer was fully approaching, and the weather in Beijing was warm. But in the basement, where an opposite chill hung in the air, Wang Weilun, Wang Weilun was bound to a chair, haggard and disheveled.
"It's a misunderstanding! I swear, I was only acting for the benefit of the nation and the Party, to bring the invention of a small country into China's embrace—"
Wang Weilun desperately protested his innocence, but the investigator sitting before him only looked bored.
"You counter-revolutionary elements are all the same with your excuses."
Counter-revolutionary element? He'd thought he was dragged in because he'd acted arbitrarily without higher approval and caused problems. But what was this?
"C-Counter-revolutionary?!"
At a word far more lethal than personal incompetence, Wang Weilun shouted in panic.
Tch.
Scoffing and dismissing Wang Weilun's words with a sneer, the investigator dropped a thick stack of documents in front of him.
"Cryptocurrency transfers totaling 34 million US dollars from your Swiss shell accounts to the Xinjiang Uyghur separatist armed group over the past several years. One thousand two hundred encrypted emails exchanged between the leadership of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region Liberation Front and your personal IP address. And draft declarations of independence for Free Taiwan, the Uyghurs, and the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region, secured from your personal cloud storage."
With every word that came out of the investigator's mouth, Wang Weilun's pupils trembled as if an earthquake had struck them.
"Wh-What are you talking about! Xinjiang Uyghurs?! Taiwan?! I never sent such emails! I never funded those bastards!"
Wang Weilun desperately shouted that he was an individual who had done nothing wrong, but the investigator was no longer interested in anything coming out of his mouth.
"You must have been thorough for years, but recently got impatient."
Near the end of the materials the investigator pushed forward, it was written how Wang Weilun's tearful acts of minority independence were discovered.
Due to a series of recent events, an impatient Wang Weilun had made a mistake in the encryption process, which got caught in the surveillance net, leading to his arrest.
"You know what my favorite thing is? The moment when people like you—no, pieces of shit like you, independence activists—when your spirit breaks and you confess everything. That's when I have the most fun."
Having become a minority and Taiwanese independence activist from a corrupt official overnight, Wang Weilun screamed no, tears and snot streaming down his face. But the investigator didn't even blink as he stood up.
Clang—!
The sound of an old iron door opening echoed, and two sturdy men in uniform entered the interrogation room.
"Take him away."
Hearing those words, which were effectively a death sentence, Wang Weilun screamed until his throat was raw.
"It's a misunderstanding! If I have any sin, it's taking money under the table, but I never gave a single penny to those counter-revolutionaries! Please, please listen to me!!"
He screamed desperately, but the investigator just straightened his hat while organizing the papers scattered across the desk.
"He's gone. How sad."
Of>
Of course, I felt not a shred of sympathy.
> Don't you think being a shadowy independence activist is cooler than being a corrupt official?
"Rather than the word 'independence activist'... wouldn't something else be better? That title's way too good for a bastard like him."
The guy was about a million years removed from a noble independence activist. It just felt wrong.
> To be honest, even without my intervention, he was a man destined for self-destruction sooner or laterp>. He was already on the internal list for the next purge.
"If you're both both incompetent and corrupt, there's no way the Chinese higher-ups would look kindly on you."
We took out a guy they were going to throw away anyway, so the Chinese government might even owe us thanks.
> His wife died of cancer three years ago, and he has one daughter—already married and living abroad for a long time. He's going cleanly alone.
"There's no real harm coming to the people in Xinjiang or Inner Mongolia, right?"
If innocent people got caught in the butterfly effect, my dreams would be pretty restless.
> I fabricated cooperation with organizations that have already disappeared, so practically no one will be harmed.
"Then that's a relief. And... let's start preparing, step by step."
> What do you mean?
"Something to ram into when problems come up. I'd like to have about fifty of them, China-style. As a-style. As a long-term project, let's get started early."
> Understood. I'll start preparing right away.
"You know, I really don't get it. There are so many places reaching out to us, asking to get along, so why would anyone choose that path..."
Not realizing their own greed would be the rope around their neck about blinded by immediate profits, walking straight into a pit of fire—it was truly pathetic to watch.
Perimeter of the Siheung Bio Center.
"Yawwwwwn."
2 AM. A yawn escaped from Sam of Team 2, who was on standby near the deserted Bio Center in the dead the dead of night.
"This is fucking boring."
Team 2 had been temporarily assigned to security duty due to the possibility of a physical seizure attempt, parked nearby and waiting in their vehicle./p>
"Boring is good. We're not about to have a firefight in Korea, right?"
They were chuckling and exchanging idle banter when a woman's voice came through their in-ear comms.
[Black minivan approaching from the opposite road.]
As the briefing rang out, the inside of the vehicle went silent in an instant.
"...Some son of a bitch had to say it was boring."
Chris shot Sam a resentful look, then straightened his posture, ready to go to work.
"I wonder where these fuckers are from this time~"
Sam adjusted his gear, patting his pockets, and stared at the stared at the approaching minivan with cold eyes.
Over the past few days, there had been plenty of suspicious people and vehicles lingering nearby, but this was the first time anyone had tried to enter so blatantly.
Shhhhhh—
The minivan's door slid open, and five burly men in tactical gear, their faces covered and wearing caps stepped out.p>
"Are they out of their fucking minds? Here to shoot a movie?"
Chris clicked his tongue at the sight, picked up his rifle loaded with tranquilizer rounds, and prepared to snipe from the vehicle.
They walked to a spot not captured by nearby building CCTVs anddifficult for people to see, then expertly set up a signal jammer and climbed over the fence.
[Confirmed 5 hostile intruders. Hacking attempt detected on the internal CCTV system.]
"Stupid bastards.Don't even realize they're walking right into the tiger's jaws."
His team members chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the situation. James, Team 2's leader, finally opened his tightly shut mouth.
"Should we neutralize them?"
[Yes. Take them all alive, please.]