The Phantom Shipment
One or two days of visiting was fine if I was careful, but living together felt different. Commuting between Noryangjin and this place didn’t feel like running two separate households either, and with the kind of work I did, there were plenty of nights I couldn’t come home at all. I hadn’t racked my brain this hard in a long time. What should I say? I needed to buy time.
“Why all of a sudden? I’m fine with it, but I’m curious about the reason.”
I deflected instead of refusing outright, worried she might get hurt.
“After everything that happened this time, I thought it would be safer if we were together.”
Safer even if I’m not around?
“Sorry. I guess I haven’t earned your trust yet.”
“No, it’s not that. I’ll have to move out on my own once my internship starts anyway.”
That was a solid excuse. A decent idea came to me.
“That’s true. Still, let’s talk to your family first and get their permission together.”
In my opinion, they probably won’t allow it.
“I’ll just tell them I’m moving out on my own.”
“I don’t like that. You felt it yourself after what happened this time—trust matters. Trust with your parents matters too.”
“Okay.”
Her answer sounded convinced, even if her face didn’t show it. I gave her a light kiss, told her I loved her, then turned and left. This was bad. I needed to go see my household’s chief strategist, Madame Lee, and ask for advice. These days plenty of parents gave their blessing if the couple was happy together.
When I got home, Madame Lee came out with a sleepy voice, as if she had just woken up. She didn’t seem in the mood to talk, so I greeted her and went upstairs to wash up and lie down. Before sleeping, I logged into Skylight to gather the latest information and noticed a post with high views. The title was “Our Money Is Burning.” Out of curiosity I clicked the link inside, which took me to YouTube.
In the middle of what looked like a sports field, a pile of seized drugs was being set on fire. Anyone breathing that smoke is going to get high. The background narration sounded like news, though it was in English. It was footage of the local government in Yangon, Myanmar, burning confiscated drugs—twenty-five tons of them, worth 2.5 billion dollars at street value. They proudly announced they had incinerated billions and vowed to continue fighting drug trafficking and distribution. No matter how many times I watched, I couldn’t see eradication actually happening. There was a reason that region was called the Golden Triangle.
Still, it was a waste. The comments mostly agreed it was a shame, and some speculated a lot of people must have died over it. Meanwhile, the number of Skylight users had grown. The residents of the 36.5°C and 36.6°C boards had increased noticeably. Whether the app was being advertised or demand had simply risen, business was booming. Even 36.7°C users appeared from time to time. It would be convenient if there were regional communities, like a secondhand marketplace. I searched the boards to see if anyone else had the same idea about temperature-based regional groups, and sure enough, someone had. The comments explained why it hadn’t happened: one wrong word and the DEA would come knocking. The last time I worked with the LA guy, he could cover it because of the quota system.
I was about to put my phone down and sleep when a message arrived from our Mexican magnate, Gonzales.
Not “how’ve you been,” more like “time to sleep.”
I’d rather not. I’m trying to keep the organization low-profile these days.
I had to at least hear the details. This old man’s jobs always came out of nowhere.
What was he talking about? I asked for more details and he explained. Two years ago this shipment had been sent from Suriname to the United States. Both the sending and receiving organizations got raided by the DEA, so the cargo was left floating. Since both sides were taken down, the goods were never recovered. The ship had crossed the Caribbean, passed through the Pacific, and circled through Japan and Korea multiple times. In other words, it was lost cargo.
This isn’t Mexico. The original owners are still out there, and if that organization holds a grudge, I could end up dead.
From years of experience, nothing free ever came without problems. I needed more information. Time to use the magic words.
You do it.
Listening to him, it sounded like the cargo was about to be turned into ash right here in Korea.
If it’s an old friend, why don’t you know the exact amount?
That shut everything down perfectly.
When I woke up in the morning, the information had arrived. The ship’s name was White Galaxy, fifty thousand tons, Supramax size—pretty large according to a quick search. Nationality: Singapore. Main cargo: ore. Location of the goods: sea chest. Another search told me it was a seawater intake channel used for ballast or cooling. Basically a tank. And it was submerged below the waterline. So the cargo wasn’t being carried on deck. How the hell was I supposed to retrieve it? I needed to back out.
Not really. Ah—maybe in the security team.
“Chief Kim, any navy veterans among the new hires?”
She must have been looking at her phone, because she replied immediately.
“Yes, we have one. UDT.”
Eureka.
“Meet with him at the welfare center this afternoon. I have an operation that could use his help.”
“Understood. I’ll see you there.”
I messaged Executive Ha and Director Jo that I was heading to the welfare center and explained the meeting. They said they weren’t experts in that field either, so it worked out well that I had someone to introduce. After getting ready and coming downstairs, I found Madame Lee preparing breakfast. The three of us ate together, and I told her I’d be going on a short business trip. She wished me a safe journey, and somehow her words carried a sense of stability. Maybe that was why Executive Ha had recommended her. I also felt like things would go smoothly.
Traffic was heavy, so it took three hours to arrive. Executive Ha, Director Jo, and a short young man were already there. Short in stature, but his face looked youthful. Who was he? The person they wanted to introduce?
“Chairman, you’ve arrived. Please come in.”
“Everything been all right? Nice weather today.”
We exchanged brief greetings and entered the conference room. I sat in the middle with Executive Ha and Director Jo on either side. Then they pointed to the young man by the door and introduced him.
“Greet the Chairman.”
“H-hello, sir. I’m Go Youngwoo.”
Wow… he stutters pretty badly.
“Nice to meet you. Who are you exactly?”
“You mentioned wanting to build a stable wholesale line last time, remember? He’s the one we’ve been grooming since then.”
The next-generation ace, apparently. But why introduce him now?
“To be honest, things have gotten too difficult for me, so I’d like to hand over assisting you to this young man.”
Is he submitting his resignation? What haven’t I done for him? That’s disappointing.
My expression must have shown it.
“Haha, no need to look so hurt, Chairman. It’s just that there’s too much work.”
“Did it show that much? You’re not actually quitting, are you?”
“Will you let me go?”
Not a chance. If Executive Ha gets arrested, I go down with him—we’re in this together.
When I asked his reason, it actually made sense.
“Just receiving reports from everyone already takes up my entire day.”
“And whenever an order comes down from you, the whole organization grinds to a halt.”
That’s because I made it that way. The moment anyone starts making independent decisions on our side, they end up in prison.
“What about the department heads?”
The moment I said that, Executive Ha’s face twisted with genuine disappointment.