Global (2)
Busan was preparing to welcome tourists with early beach openings this year as well, thanks to its forest of parasols and record-breaking heat. We had been gearing up to sell our goods accordingly, but the government's declaration of a state of emergency forced us to go underground. Meanwhile, the small-time merchants who still had to make a living were getting hauled in for doing exactly what they did every year.
I was receiving real-time reports from Director Jo. We had eyes and ears on the movements of the narcotics task force in every major district, gathering intelligence. At this scale, we were clearly short on manpower. Once this blew over, I'd have to send them a bonus—maybe a nice cut of beef.
Even the traditional demand zones—Gangnam, Itaewon, and Myeongdong—had frozen solid, as if hit by an unseasonal frost in early summer. In Incheon and Bucheon, the Chinese organizations that had been trying to expand during the chaos were immediately picked up once we handed them over, neatly packaged. Timing was everything. If they showed up now, what were they thinking?
We hadn't escaped unscathed either.
"Sales Division Three took the heaviest hit. I didn't expect the informant handler to know that much."
Executive Director Ha, Director Jo, and I had formed an emergency response committee and were handling developments as they came. After about two weeks of media hammering, the investigative net tightened. We had thrown the informants some bait to chew on, but it only made things worse. Whether the informants saw an opportunity or were trying to earn immunity, they sang like birds.
The sales network was used to operating with its guts hanging out, so losing people was expected. But the logistics side got gutted. Yeoni's name hadn't come up yet, but the warehouses and ledgers had been seized. We immediately sent her, Min-cheol, and Min-cheol's wife—who had just had a baby—on a family trip to the Philippines.
The moment we heard from the informants, the internal investigation team put surveillance on them, but there must have been a gap somewhere.
"The ledgers are for incoming and outgoing shipments. If they dig into those, it'll be tough. I think we should just hand everything over."
"Director Jo, what if we stage a fake operation? Make it look like product went in, then actually move it out?"
"Where to?"
"The Philippines. Deputy General Manager Seong, who was reviewing the coin project last time, apparently knows a technician setting things up over there. We can send them together."
Connections really did keep forming.
"Are they school alumni or something?"
"I'm not sure about the details, but there's some kind of community for people in that line of work. He said the programming style looked familiar, so they must know each other."
"Alright. Do it that way and cut the tail. And be careful."
"Yes, sir."
I was reminded once again why people say every situation has its pros and cons. With so many people getting picked up, Sales Division One's Manager Yun's line grew stronger. Fresh blood had been transfused, and they were operating more aggressively. Whenever product got seized from outside, they would pull strings to divert it back to the organization. So I ordered them to trace the seized goods this time and recover whatever they could.
What had they said again? Inside the organization, they didn't need pure stuff or crack—whatever they could get their hands on was good enough. They were also proving useful as informants. With connections even inside the detention center, we could keep tabs on the informants' movements. I was still debating how to handle them.
"We can't leave them alone. They'll only get bolder."
That was Director Jo, one of the emergency committee members. Executive Director Ha beside him didn't object. So it was majority rule.
"Understood. Handle it. But not now—add interest first."
"Yes, sir."
Two weeks later, I received the war report. The media coverage was identical to what had happened with Chief Sun, but experiencing it firsthand felt different. There was a world of difference between cutting ties on your own terms and being forced to take the hit.
"Good evening, this is Park Cheol-jong, anchor for Chosun TV."
"Recent drug-related incidents involving prominent figures in society have been making headlines."
"According to the prosecution, they have achieved significant results in dismantling a drug syndicate with nationwide organizational reach."
"For more details, let's go to social affairs reporter Park Hyun-sung."
"Reporter Park, last month saw a string of celebrity drug scandals, prompting the government to announce countermeasures, correct?"
"Yes, that's right. The government prepared a response, and as a result, investigations were launched into organizations operating in the shadows. Many drug offenders have been apprehended."
"Do you think this opportunity could finally rid our society of drugs?"
"While the prosecution and police's efforts won't completely eradicate drug crime, they are playing a meaningful role in prevention and deterrence."
"Thank you. First, please convey our appreciation to the prosecutors and investigators for their hard work, and could you walk us through the investigation process?"
"Of course. The prosecution began its investigation based on tips and information obtained from interrogating arrested suspects. They first targeted direct suppliers, then—without making immediate arrests—followed the trail up to secondary and, in the case of larger organizations, tertiary suppliers. In the process, they also succeeded in apprehending logistics managers, financial handlers, and even top bosses."
"In one case, they narrowed the net all the way to the tertiary supplier and even reached the logistics manager, but were unable to apprehend the boss who had supplied the drugs to that manager."
"Quite meticulous."
"Yes, but thanks to their outstanding investigative work, they were able to arrest over a hundred drug offenders nationwide."
"Thank you for your insights. We hope for a safer society free of drugs. That concludes today's news. Have a pleasant evening. This has been Park Cheol-jong for Chosun TV."
The media said over a hundred, but when we tallied our own numbers for the month, roughly eighty people—including rank-and-file members—had been lost. It seemed they had specifically targeted those they believed belonged to our organization. Sales Division Three, where the informant handler had been, was cut in half. Divisions One and Two each lost about twenty people. Most of the casualties were at the employee level because they hadn't followed orders, but they were still our people. I felt sorry.
By the time the second semester began, society had moved on, as it always did. Not a single mention of drugs appeared in the news anymore. That summer had come to an end.
This morning I came to campus because I had registered for a class. After two years, school was starting to feel tedious. The lectures were interesting enough, but when they were online, I usually left them playing in the background without really listening. This was an in-person major course. When I walked into the classroom, the Ocean World team was already there. I wondered if they ever got tired of seeing the same faces for four semesters straight.
The class president and Myung-jae were preparing for military service. They said they wanted to finish the year working before enlisting. I told them that was fine and asked where they were planning to go. After seeing the security team in action last time, UDT had looked appealing. Both had applied for KATUSA positions. I was a little disappointed but wished them luck.
Yunjeong said she wanted to recruit juniors to keep things running. I told her to hire three more. The second-year students' eyes lit up at that.
The transaction records Flag Man had sent showed that even the third batch had already moved. I had tossed the third batch list aside without reading it to avoid drawing government attention, but orders had come in mixed with the first and second batches. I laundered the money and deposited it into the corporate account. Flag Man received dollars; I paid in won.
There were interviews that afternoon. This semester it was the opposite of last time—three men were hired. The class president and Myung-jae looked miserable. Even I suspected the selections had been made purely by looks. I gave them a warning anyway: this was their responsibility. Suddenly, a sense of duty appeared on their faces.
When I got back from school, Secretary Ko came in and said the orphanage had called. The typhoon had passed, so it was time for repairs. Of course we had to help. People who had something had to keep living. Let's stay strong. Getting hit by a typhoon left your head ringing.
The next morning, Secretary Ko, Cheol-min, and I set off for the orphanage. A cool autumn breeze greeted us. Maybe to lighten the mood, Cheol-min played music as we drove down.
I'll keep running without stopping, baby~ I want to show you that blue sky over there, baby~ Will you hold my hand tight, baby~
It was a travel song, but the singer seemed to be the only one enjoying it. I realized we didn't have to live like this every day. I just smiled.
Cheol-min spoke up from the front.
"Chairman, you should smile more often. It suits you much better."
He must have felt the pressure too. Secretary Ko in the passenger seat had the same expression.
"Yeah."
A leader's attitude really did set the tone for the entire organization. With that thought, I dozed off for a while.
"Chairman, we've arrived."
Cheol-min's voice jolted me awake. Ah, I had fallen asleep.
"Have you been well?"
Remembering my earlier resolution, I greeted Executive Director Ha and Director Jo with a smile. My bright greeting seemed to lift the heavy expressions on their faces. They had been matching my mood.
"You worked hard avoiding the typhoon. People who have something should live happily, shouldn't they? Smile."