Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator : M.N 1391
Chapter: 49
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Kim Jun couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief as he watched Gaengwan close his eyes even before takeoff. Truly a weirdo, there was no other weirdo like this one.
Passengers boarded. Even though it was a flight bound for Korea, not only East Asians but also white, Latino, and Black passengers came in. It seemed Korean Wave tourism was rising as Korean culture spread worldwide.
When the plane took off and flew over the Pacific Ocean, when everyone was either asleep to adjust their jet lag or ignoring it completely while watching in-flight movies.. something happened.
“Freeze!”
“Kyaaaah!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Tom, who had been taking turns staying awake to watch Gaengwan, urgently shook Kim Jun awake with a grave expression. Because of that, Gaengwan, who was stuck between them, woke up too and frowned.
“Ah shit, what is it.”
Even when Gaengwan asked in a half-asleep mumble with his eyes closed, the two pressed their heads together in front of his chest and whispered something in English.
Gaengwan sighed and asked again in a detached, enlightened tone.
“What is it, seriously.”
“Uh.. Mr. Gaengwan.. I’m not sure if I should say this but...”
“But?”
Kim Jun lowered his voice.
“I think it’s a hijacking.”
“? What’s that?”
Since Gaengwan didn’t understand, Kim Jun sighed and explained.
“Airplane kidnapping.”
“Hm.. what are you going to do?”
“It’s a difficult situation.”
It really was difficult. If this had happened four months earlier, it wouldn’t have been so bad. Back then, multiple agents had been assigned to watch and subdue Gaengwan in case of emergencies.
But as trust built up, and with confidence that Gaengwan wouldn’t screw up the beneficial trust relationship he gained, the surveillance and management had recently been reduced to just Kim Jun and Tom, and now something like this happened.
Could the two of them really handle this alone?
Gaengwan asked.
“Did they like seize the cockpit too, enough to crash into a building?”
At that, Kim Jun’s expression hardened. It wasn’t only offensive, he also couldn’t say such a possibility was impossible. The 9/11 terror attack left a deep scar in every American’s heart.
Since Kim Jun didn’t answer, Gaengwan sensed the situation could be serious. So he said:
“We should hurry then.”
After everything he’d lived through, dying in an airplane terror attack? No thanks. Spare him from ridiculous jokes.
Kim Jun nodded.
“Let’s assess the situation as fast as we can.”
Then a gunshot rang out.
Bang!
“Kyaaaah!”
“Don’t move!”
Things were getting worse by the minute.
“How the hell did they pass security?”
While Gaengwan complained in disbelief at the gunshot, Kim Jun slowly lifted his head to look ahead.
“Sit down!”
A hijacker yelled when he saw Kim Jun looking up, and Kim Jun quickly ducked his head.
“It’s a plastic gun.”
“That works?”
“It’s unreliable, but the killing ability is real.”
A plastic gun made with a 3D printer could be designed in many ways. It could be modular, and if it didn’t use regular casings, it could be made toy-like enough to pass security. In such designs, smuggling the metal bullet itself was easy, since a lone projectile wouldn’t be suspected as a weapon.
Kim Jun continued.
“Judging by the shape, four shots is the limit. But they probably have more than one gun, and the number of hijackers I can see is at least three.”
Assuming each had at least two plastic guns, that meant 2x4x3, up to 24 possible shots.
Gaengwan asked:
“We don’t have weapons?”
“Unfortunately...”
“What! Aren’t you American? You don’t even carry a gun?”
“Korea is a no-gun country.”
Also, as mentioned earlier, they had evaluated the scenario of Gaengwan stealing their firearm, and the conclusion was that it was safer not to carry one at all when escorting him to Korea. So Kim Jun and Tom came without guns.
But to Gaengwan, it sounded absurd. Since when did an American agency not carry a single gun?
Gaengwan summarized the absurdity in one sentence:
“Unbelievable.”
Kim Jun responded:
“Korean police don’t carry guns either.”
“At least they carry tasers.”
“I do have an expandable baton.”
“Give me that.”
“.. Why?”
“I’ll draw aggro from the front, so hurry up and subdue them. If we just sit here and wait, they’ll take the cockpit, kill the pilots, and crash into a building yelling ‘Tenno Heika Banzai!’ Then will you take responsibility?”
“.. They’re not Japanese though?”
“Whether it’s ‘Tenno Heika Banzai’ or ‘Allahu Akbar’, crazy is crazy either way.”
“···.”
To hear a crazy man calling someone else crazy, what a refreshing experience.
“Anyway, just give it here already.”
After exchanging looks with Tom, Kim Jun nodded. But they said they couldn’t give him the baton, Tom, with his big belly, needed a weapon too.
Even if plastic guns were unreliable, they were still guns, and facing them with an expandable baton was a shitty situation. Still, better than empty hands.
“Oh, Mr. Lee, Tom says the idea of you drawing aggro is a good one.”
Seeing Kim Jun translate Tom’s comment, Gaengwan looked unimpressed. Tom flashed a grin and gave him a thumbs-up as if cheering him on. Even in danger, that relaxed attitude, must be veteran experience.
The idea wasn’t hard to understand. Better to let a criminal like Gaengwan take the risk, cleanup would be easier afterwards. He himself would have done the same.
And it wasn’t bad for Gaengwan either. Whether he got shot or not, if it was packaged as “Inmate on furlough stops terror attack!”, he could get sentence reduction or rewards.
Not that he was doing it for the reward. He just didn’t want to be forced into shouting Tenno Heika Banzai alongside fanatics.
“Fine. I’ll draw aggro, so do the rest yourselves. If anything happens, I’m not responsible.”
“Then shall we draft the scenario?”
The three quickly prepared a plan. It took less than five minutes, mainly because Gaengwan agreed to everything Kim Jun and Tom proposed.
The main idea was simple. First, Kim Jun or Tom would go to the bathroom. While Gaengwan drew attention, the one coming out of the bathroom would whack the hijackers on the back of the head with the baton.
It was a clumsy plan, but hastily made plans were always like that. Sometimes speed mattered more than sophistication.
They began before the hijackers reached the cockpit.
“Sit down!”
Kim Jun carefully raised his hands and stood up. One of the masked hijackers pointed a plastic gun at him. The gun looked like a rectangular box, four plastic barrels, each with its own hammer. To shoot, you had to pull back the hammer for the barrel you wanted, then pull the trigger. Surprisingly intricate.
Definitely not a standard ammo-using gun.
After checking the structure, Kim Jun spoke nervously.
“To, toilet. Please.”
The hijacker frowned but flicked his gun as permission.
Then Tom raised his hand.
“Me, me too.”
“Shit!”
The hijacker scowled but allowed Tom as well. The problem was the third one.
“Me too!”
When Gaengwan stood up raising his hand, the hijacker snapped:
“Fuck you! Sit down!”
It wasn’t that he hated the MeToo movement, it was simply that being asked for the bathroom three times in a row felt like he was being mocked or underestimated.
Gaengwan protested in awkward English:
“I need toilet!”
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Sit down! All die!”
As the hijacker aimed his gun, Gaengwan spoke while unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper.
“I really need toilet! I will show you!”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you!”
The hijacker cursed nonstop. No wonder, Gaengwan had pulled his underwear down too and began peeing on the floor.
At this point, was he insane or just insulting him?
Murderous intent flashed in the hijacker’s eyes.
“I will kill you!”
Then Gaengwan lifted his hips and forced his bladder. Proving the vitality of his youth, when he’d famously sent call girls flying to Hong Kong all night, a strong urine stream shot straight into the hijacker’s face.
“Oh shit!”
Bang!
The hijacker, his eyes and face struck by the hot urine, shut his eyes and covered his face. While blindly pointing the gun toward where Gaengwan was and pulling the trigger.
But by then, Gaengwan had already lowered his torso and sprang forward like a frog, rushing toward the hijacker.
Of course the bullet missed. Plastic barrels were inaccurate to begin with, and with his eyes closed, there was no way he’d hit the crouching Gaengwan.
While the hijacker tried to regain his senses, Gaengwan powered forward with his legs, planted both hands on the floor, drew his legs again, and launched toward the hijacker like a predator hunting prey.
His lower half flapping wildly because he hadn’t pulled his pants back up.
“Fuck!”
Gaengwan grabbed the hijacker’s wrist. There was a brief struggle, but the hijacker’s movements were far too weak to keep up with Gaengwan’s martial arts honed through infinite regress.
Gaengwan twisted his arm like a Japanese jujutsu move and slammed him down, then stomped on his jaw.
Crunch!
With a chilling sound, the hijacker passed out. The fact he didn’t die of shock from the shattered jawbone was a miracle.
Only then did Gaengwan pull his underwear and pants back up, grab the plastic gun, and turn to see the other hijackers charge toward him.
“Kill him!”
The plastic gun seemed to have poor effective range, so the hijackers ran instead of shooting. But Kim Jun and Tom, slipping out from the bathroom, struck the backs of their heads with their batons, knocking them out instantly.
Kim Jun and Tom took their weapons, tied them up with the help of the crew and passengers, and rushed toward the cockpit.
As expected, two remaining hijackers inside were holding hostages and threatening the pilots to open the door.
“Open up! Or she will die!”
A flight attendant already lay bleeding on the floor. But the pilots couldn’t open the door easily. After 9/11, airlines had revised their manuals, losing the cockpit meant catastrophe.
“Fuck!”
One hijacker guarding the rear spotted Kim Jun and Tom approaching and hurriedly fired. But Kim Jun’s shot was faster and more accurate.
In a sitting-and-shooting stance, he aimed directly for the head. All four hammers of the plastic gun struck the primers, the four bullets fired almost simultaneously, and three hit the hijacker’s head, spraying blood and brain matter.
As expected from a Korean, long-range DPS, the bloodline never lies.
“Kyaaaah!”
The hostage with blood and brain matter on her face screamed.
The last hijacker, who had been threatening the pilots, turned around and cursed.