Delta Force Dad and American Muscle
Money that suddenly falls into your lap in America has to be spent carefully. Especially if it's not earned through your own effort, but something like lottery luck. What the hell am I rambling about all of a sudden? "Ah."
With nearly 5 trillion won in cash, blowing 100 million wouldn't even make a dent. So, to test my abilities amid this chaotic market, I threw 100 million into some day trading. And how'd that go?
Too bad, right?
"Shut up, will ya?" That's how it went. No matter how carelessly I throw money around these days, taking a 30% loss snaps you right back to reality.
"Do you think I can recover from this?"
No.
"Damn, you're blunt."
What can't be done can't be done. You wouldn't have made this choice without me, but it looks like ETFs are more your speed, Master.
Yeah, it sucks, but it's true. Losing 30 million or 100 million doesn't really matter. Still, it pisses me off, and there's no shaking that.
"If I ever pull this crap again, shoot me."
I'll chalk it up to a brief lapse and tuition paid.
"Phew... I need something to take my mind off this."
Right then, a profile of a white guy I'd never seen before pops up in my vision.
"What's this?"
This is our first contact. Bodyguard candidate number one.
"It's all in English. Translate it for me."
The sudden English assault makes my head throb twice as hard. I can handle English fine, but no need to read it in the original when I can get a translation.
Jacob “Ronin” Blackwood, former Delta Force A-Squadron Master Sergeant (MSG, Master Sergeant).
The name alone reeks of human weapon.
"His face looks like it could fold me in half. You think I should just walk up and say, 'Hey, wanna work for me?'"
We have our ways. He has a son with DIPG, a rare disease.
"DIPG?"
Never heard that term in my life.
Yes, in Korean it's called diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma—a mouthful. Simply put, it's a tumor in the brainstem that controls heartbeat and breathing.
Just hearing the explanation is horrifying.
"What happens if you get it...?"
Paralysis, vision loss within 6 to 12 months, leading to death. Modern medicine can't cure it because of the blood-brain barrier.
"That's insane. But can you treat it?"
Yes, my nanobots can cross that barrier and eliminate only the malignant cells.
"But just killing them won't fix everything, right?"
Of course. Even after destroying malignant cells, functional deficits from the voids can occur. But we can reconnect damaged neural networks artificially and stimulate stem cells to regenerate.
A parent whose kid is about to die? They'll accept any demand to save him.
"So this Jacob guy's son has this disease, and that's our in?"
Pretty much. After his son collapsed, he's sold his house, assets, pension for a lump sum, even put his medals on the black market—desperately scraping for experimental treatments.
"How'd he leave the military?"
Delta Force is elite even in the US; his country wouldn't let him go easily.
He requested indefinite leave, but the government denied it. So he discharged immediately and is even dipping into illegal gigs to raise cash.
Conditions are perfect. If Athena can cure him, loyalty is a given.
"All good. But if I mention curing his kid to his face, won't he just shoot me?"
I'll handle the talking; you just watch. Even if it turns violent, I can control your body to win—though there'll be fallout, no worries.
"Me beat Delta Force?"
My body's not bad, but it's average. A regular guy like me beating a pro killer?
You'd be bedridden for months, but yeah, we'd win.
"Easy for you to say since it's not your body."
I don't feel pain.
If we actually win a fight, it's bar story material for life—no loss there.
"When can we make the nanobots and drugs?"
Factories start tomorrow, so we'll produce immediately and head to the US.
US-bound within two days max, and I'm shaking like crazy.
"Even heading to basic training wasn't this daunting."
Winning or not, dealing with a former spec ops guy over his son's life has cold sweat dripping. -_-_-_
As soon as day broke, I headed to the JSRL Bio factory in Siheung, Gyeonggi-do.
"Drugs producing okay?"
Yes, production started. You'll have them when you arrive.
"Nanobots somewhere else?"
Nanobots at Kyungjoong Precision in Ansan. Production started there too—hit Siheung first, then Ansan.
Tighter schedule than expected. After 50 minutes driving, a sleek biotech factory appears.
"Tour later. How much time does this Jacob guy's kid have?"
Medically, he could go anytime.
"This is nuts."
Less time than I thought. I dash inside, grab the packaged drugs, and race to Ansan.
"This one's bigger."
Biggest facility. Boss gambled, but yeah.
"Let's go in."
High-tech, so procedures are complex. Nanobots prepped—grab and go.
An industrial robot hands over a box.
"You controlling this?"
Yep. Want a wave?
"Nah, time's tight."
All set, back home.
"Flight's tonight, so some time. Anything to pack?"
Just clothes. Atlanta layover to Charlotte, North Carolina.
Never imagined my first overseas trip this epic.
"Rent a car there?"
Yes, reserved.
She's thorough as hell.
"Kinda excited for first class. But can I carry this on?"
Yes, looks like personal items and meds from outside.
"Okay. To Incheon—better leave now?"
Go now, plenty of time for the lounge.
Hour and a half later, massive Incheon Airport Terminal 2 looms.
"Did Gimpo for Jeju, but Incheon first time."
Customs done, into the Korean Air lounge I'd only seen on YouTube.
Damn, huge. Like a hotel lobby.
Rest here, then US—halfway done.
Lounge tour, snag some food—time flies.
Boarding: seats worlds apart from Jeju economy.
One ride like this, no going back to coach.
With your money, coach is off-limits. Bet after this flight, you'll beg for a private jet?
I'm young. Ten-odd hours won't break me.
Wanna bet? I win, you do US immigration alone.
Deal. I win, you recover that 30% stock loss. Cool?
You're on.
Cocky start, but 8+ hours in, boredom hits hard. Seat's comfy, no physical discomfort, but not my space—can't fully relax.
Fine, you win.
Told you. Private jet, and you'd be belting songs, going wild.
Got it. Buy one. But help with immigration?
US customs infamous—extra tense.
A bet's a bet. You lost—solo it.
Chatting, watching Athena's videos kills time till US arrival.
Phew. Tourist. English-illiterate tourist.
Self-hypnosis to customs, but surprisingly just purpose and destination—waves me through.
No secondary room? Weird.
No "business" or such, Koreans sail through. Plus, pricey watch screams no suspicion.
Overthought it.
Lucky that officer wasn't strict.
True—he could've nitpicked plenty.
Short wait, transfer to Charlotte, North Carolina.
"Finally... America."
Torturously boring flight ends; stepping on US soil brings emotion surging.
"Rental ready? Where to?"
Taxi booked. Hop in.
As Athena speaks, a car speeds toward me from afar.
"That it?"
Yep. See what I rented—you'll freak.
"Don't scare me."
Taxi ride, rusty English with driver—rental spot sooner than expected.
"This it?"
Yes, that building.
"Your turn. Used up my daily English on taxi."
...Fine.
Hand control to Athena, watch first-person view. My hand takes keys from staff.
Athena? Why's there a pony on the key?
No idea.
You booked it.
Pleading the fifth. B section.
No response after. "Gonna lose it."
Expected comfy sedan, but this screams that car. Signs to B, press key—beep.
Turn: black Mustang waiting.
"Not the 2.3, right?"
I'd walk before renting some poser ride.
"Fair. American muscle needs that glorious V8."
Wished they'd discontinued it—electric muscle cars are a crime.
Slide into driver's seat, fire up: same 8-cyl, but raw exhaust unlike Panamera.
"Whoa... chills."
Rev a few times: 5,000cc V8 roars.
"Buying one in Korea ASAP. Real men need a muscle car."
Get all three Big Three muscles.
"Genius?"
Why just one? All three means triple joy.