Settle the Score While You're Alive
The first lie had worked. That fact showed up not in the comment section, but first on the map.
Rat Merchant's terminal screen. On the outdated map of Guro District 12, small dots were moving. Temporary contractors registered in the Black Dog subcontracting network. Those who had clicked the settlement link. Those who had confirmed the advance payment. And those who, until just moments ago, had been trying to enter Warehouse 12.
The dots were slowly splitting apart. Toward the lower southern overpass. The northern abandoned parking lot. The western drainage entrance. The three outer settlement zones I had designated.
The Rat Merchant stared at the screen and muttered under his breath.
“It worked.”
There was more anxiety in his voice than joy.
“The ones who got the money are moving. They’re suspicious, but they’ve taken the first step. The words ‘advance payment’ are disgustingly effective.”
I looked at the dots on the terminal. Dots. Numbers. Location data. That was all they were right now. But each one of those dots was a person. Subcontractors Black Dog had tried to herd in as prey. People who had come to collect their money, only to nearly die without even realizing what kind of game they had stepped into.
I pointed at the area behind Warehouse 12 on the map. The spot labeled 12-B Closed Alley. A dead-end logistics alley shaped like a square bracket, enclosed by the warehouse’s outer wall, an old factory building, and the collapsed walls of a shopping district. One entrance. Wide inside. No way out. If you drove people in and blocked the entrance, no one outside could see what was happening inside. It was the location Black Dog had chosen as the Slaughter Dog test site.
“How many have entered 12-B?”
The Rat Merchant zoomed in on the screen.
“Still twelve. No, three more just went in. Black Dog’s official personnel are pushing them from behind.”
“Even the ones who got paid?”
“Some are pulling out, but some can’t. When official Black Dog members point guns at their backs, the subcontractors can’t hold out. Money is scary, but a gun barrel is more immediate.”
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the subcontracting network’s comment section began to shake.
[Official personnel ordering movement to 12-B]
[Conflicts with the settlement notice]
[Does field order take priority?]
[Entrance blocked. Hard to retreat]
[Black Dog official members have guns]
The Rat Merchant’s face hardened.
“See? Black Dog noticed.”
“The settlement network manipulation?”
“They probably haven’t confirmed it yet. But they must have realized the subcontractors are moving in strange directions.”
The Rat Merchant opened another window. Black Dog’s internal control signals. The movement markers of official members were gathering toward the eastern approach to Warehouse 12 and the entrance to the alley behind it. Red dots. Black dog emblems. They were pushing the subcontractors back in.
Into the 12-B Closed Alley.
“Now I see what their original plan was,” the Rat Merchant said. “Gather the subcontractors behind the warehouse. Block the entrance. Release the Slaughter Dog. If anyone survives, clean them up under the pretext of site maintenance. Black Dog collects the data from the rear.”
“And pin everything on the subcontractors.”
“Unregistered subcontractors lost control and clashed. Internal dispute that occurred while tracking Copycat. If they frame it that way, by the time the Association arrives, there won’t be any ledgers or evidence left.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked down at the blueprint of the 12-B Closed Alley. The Rat Merchant’s guess was almost correct. No, it was too accurate. It matched the flow I already knew. The subcontractors die. The Slaughter Dog is ruined. Black Dog erases the evidence. The people who arrive late see only a blood-soaked alley and burned ledgers. That was how the incident was supposed to be wrapped up.
At least, until I intervened.
“Copycat.”
The Rat Merchant called me.
“You’ve got that face again. Like you know something.”
“I don’t know anything.”
I kept my eyes on the map as I spoke.
“I’ve just seen enough of how Black Dog uses subcontractors.”
The Rat Merchant stared at me for a moment but didn’t press further. Not because he trusted me. His expression said he knew there was no time to argue right now. He gritted his teeth and tapped the terminal.
“Then I’ll post the second notice. But it has to be short. If it’s too long, it’ll get caught in Black Dog’s verification net.”
“Short.”
I immediately dictated the sentences.
[Entry into Warehouse 12 interior prohibited]
[Survival report takes priority for settlement]
[If official personnel orders conflict with settlement network orders, settlement network survival report takes priority]
[No settlement for the dead]
The Rat Merchant’s hand stopped at the last sentence.
“This is too blatant.”
“It’s the words subcontractors understand best.”
“Meaning they won’t get paid if they die?”
“Exactly.”
“You really have no mercy.”
“That’s why they’ll believe it.”
The Rat Merchant couldn’t argue. Subcontractors trusted crude settlement notices more than polite rescue requests. Because that was exactly how Black Dog had trained them. If you die, you don’t get paid. You have to survive to settle the score. It was brutal, but in this game, it was the sentence that moved bodies the fastest.
The Rat Merchant pressed the send button.
Beep.
The second notice went up. The reaction was faster than the first. Because the money had already been deposited.
[Reconfirming prohibition on interior entry]
[Conflicts with what the official guys said?]
[If survival report is priority, we should pull back to the outskirts, right?]
[No settlement for the dead lol So typical of Black Dog]
[Are the ones blocking the entrance really official personnel?]
[If we go inside 12-B, we definitely won’t get paid?]
The comments were chaotic. But that chaos itself was necessary. There was no need to give them certainty. We just had to stop them from lining up and following Black Dog’s orders into the alley.
I held one Joker Card between my fingers. The cold texture of the paper clung to my fingertips. The Swindler’s smile from the shielding room faintly crossed my mind.
People believe what they want to believe. So you just have to offer them what they want to believe at the most expensive moment.
What the subcontractors wanted to believe right now was simple. That they could still get paid without entering that dead-end alley. That they would be settled as long as they survived and got out.
The Rat Merchant frowned when he saw my hand.
“You’re going to layer a voice again?”
“Text alone isn’t enough.”
“Black Dog will hear it immediately this time.”
“That’s why it has to be short.”
“How short?”
“Ten seconds.”
“Can you come up with words that will move people in ten seconds?”
I sat in front of the microphone.
“I’ll make it work.”
The Rat Merchant twisted his lips but opened the channel.
“Local subcontractor network. Only the outskirts of District 12 and the area around the 12-B entrance. Don’t speak long. Cut it before they trace the transmission point.”
I nodded. The Joker Card trembled faintly at my fingertips.
Swindler's Joker Card is reacting.
A fake voice overlays the communication noise.
Fragment resonance maintained.
My voice went out through the microphone. But what was layered over the network was a different voice. A low, dry male voice. Cold like someone who held the money. A voice that looked at people like ledger entries.
“This is a notice to all settlement recipients in the District 12 subcontractor network.”
The subcontractor network fell silent for a moment. I immediately pushed the next sentence.
“Those who enter the interior of Warehouse 12 will have their hazard pay withheld. Priority settlement will be given to those who submit a survival report.”
The Rat Merchant held up his fingers to show the remaining time. Five seconds.
I threw the final sentence in a low voice.
“We don’t pay the dead. Report while you’re still alive.”
The transmission cut off. A short silence fell over the communication room. The Rat Merchant immediately checked the comment section. The reaction was instantaneous.
[Voice confirmed]
[Is that really the settlement officer?]
[Pulling back to the outskirts for now]
[If we report while alive, we get paid]
[Don’t go inside 12-B]
[How are we supposed to get out when the official guys are blocking us]
[Aren’t those Black Dog bastards pushing us in?]
The moment they saw the last comment, the corner of the Rat Merchant’s mouth lifted ever so slightly.
“The direction of suspicion has changed.”
“Toward us?”
“No. Toward Black Dog.”
That was enough. There was no need to make them completely believe us. Once the subcontractors started doubting Black Dog, the line of control would waver. Black Dog hadn’t bound the subcontractors with money alone. They had bound them with fear as well. If even a small crack appeared in that fear, the subcontractors would look for a way to escape.
But Black Dog wasn’t slow either. A warning sound rang from the Rat Merchant’s other terminal.
Beep-beep-beep.
Red markers swarmed toward the entrance of the 12-B Closed Alley.
“Damn it.”
The Rat Merchant zoomed in on the screen.
“Black Dog’s official members are blocking the entrance. They’re holding the subcontractors back at gunpoint as they try to get out. The ones who made it to the outskirts are safe, but the ones who went inside are the problem.”
“How many?”
“Seventeen right now, including the injured. More could go in.”
“What about the east?”
“Two more Black Dog vehicles are entering. At this rate, the 12-B entrance will be completely sealed.”
The dots on the map were shaking. Subcontractor dots. Black Dog markers. Dots fleeing toward the settlement zones, and dots trapped inside the dead-end alley. The limits of what could be shaken remotely were becoming clear.
Money moves people. Lies change their direction. But you can’t drag out people frozen in front of a gun barrel.
The Rat Merchant spoke quietly.
“Notices alone won’t cut it anymore.”
I thought the same. At that moment, Seon Woo-rak’s measuring device rang. He, who had been watching the sunspot stone shielding box from one side of the shelter, lifted his head.
“Han Bit-na’s reaction is rising sharply.”
The Rat Merchant’s third terminal simultaneously displayed a broken video feed. Inside the isolated area of Warehouse 12. The screen was shaking. Steel walls. Blood smeared across the floor. A shattered sonic controller. And a small shadow.
At first, it didn’t look like a person. It was too small. The shadow slowly raised its head. Unfocused eyes were visible between tangled hair. A broken control device hung from its neck. Bare feet. Torn combat uniform. Thin arms. Blood on those arms.
Han Bit-na. The fourteen-year-old Slaughter Dog.
At her feet lay the collapsed Black Dog monitors. Not one. Two. Three.
A torn voice flowed from the monitor channel.
[Control failure! Control failure!]
[The Slaughter Dog is—]
The words didn’t continue. The screen shook violently. The small shadow vanished, and in the next instant, blood splattered across the wall. The communication room fell silent. The Rat Merchant, Seon Woo-rak, and even Ghost Van were quiet for a moment.
I stared at the screen. Han Bit-na still hadn’t seen the subcontractors. But she had already seen blood. She had already torn people apart. The frenzy stacks of Bloodlust Frenzy had already begun to rise. I didn’t need to see the exact numbers to know. This child wasn’t getting stronger right now. She was breaking.
Her output rose in response to blood and killing, and that output tore her own body apart. Black Dog knew this and still gathered the subcontractors as food.
There was one more problem.
“She wasn’t released,” I said.
The Rat Merchant looked at me.
“What?”
“Black Dog hasn’t released her yet. She came out on her own.”
It didn’t take long for everyone to understand what that meant. Black Dog’s plan had been to drive the subcontractors into the 12-B Closed Alley, then release the Slaughter Dog and withdraw. But Han Bit-na had already broken free of control. Earlier than planned. Before the prey was fully prepared.
If so, the incident was now out of Black Dog’s hands as well. The isolation door behind Warehouse 12 would be destroyed. Han Bit-na would emerge into the 12-B Closed Alley. There were still subcontractors left there. Some would be bleeding. Some would be terrified. Fear, blood, and flesh. The perfect conditions to raise Bloodlust Frenzy. And in the middle of it all, a fourteen-year-old girl was breaking.
Ghost Van spoke briefly.
“Field movement required.”
I looked down at the Joker Card. There were only two left. The two cards stabilized in the shielding room. The deck was not yet complete. Illusions were short, fake voices were unstable, and shadows didn’t last long.
Still, I had to go to the scene. Remote control wasn’t enough. The Joker Card’s shadows and auditory hallucinations became clearer the closer they were to the scene. Above all, the subcontractors still left inside the 12-B alley were not dots on a screen. They were living people.
And Han Bit-na was a child who could not be allowed to end as the Slaughter Dog.
I looked at the Rat Merchant.
“Open the Yoon Taeha channel.”
He didn’t react immediately.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“The Association will have surveillance on him. If you send a message, Yoon Taeha will be in danger too.”
“There will be more people in danger if we don’t send it.”
The Rat Merchant gritted his teeth.
“I hate owing that hero bastard.”
“So do I.”
“Then why are you calling him?”
“To stop that child without killing her, we need Yoon Taeha.”
The Rat Merchant offered no further objection. A one-way emergency channel opened. A message window appeared. There wasn’t time to write much. Twenty seconds. A few sentences. I typed it myself.
Transmitted. Beep. The message disappeared. There was no sound for a moment. I didn’t expect a reply. A one-way channel wasn’t for conversation in the first place. Besides, there was no way to know if Yoon Taeha could move immediately. Association internal surveillance. Injury. Seo Mun-ha. All of it would be holding him back.
Still, I sent it. Yoon Taeha would come. I was certain. The reason was simple. Because that was the kind of guy he was.
“Ghost Van.”
When I called him, he was already holding the car keys.
“Car.”
“Ready.”
The Rat Merchant grabbed me as if to stop me.
“Copycat, wait. You’re really going yourself?”
“Yes.”
“I heard your explanation for why you have to go, but I still don’t like it. That place has the Association, Black Dog, and the Slaughter Dog.”
“And subcontractors too.”
“You think those subcontractors will thank you? Some of them will be thinking about your bounty.”
“That’s why the settlement officer has to show his face.”
“No matter how nicely you dress that up, it still means you’re walking into a place where you could die.”
I slipped the Joker Card between my fingers. The clown inside the card was laughing. Only two cards. A deck that was not yet complete. But it had to be enough for now. If it wasn’t enough, I would just have to go and make it enough.
“Rat Merchant.”
“What.”
“Maintain the three settlement points. Southern overpass, northern abandoned parking lot, western drainage. As soon as the subcontractors get out, deposit the money immediately.”
“I will. If I don’t put the money in, all the fraud we’ve done so far will collapse.”
“Add extra for the injured.”
“I know.”
“For the dead—”
The Rat Merchant cut me off.
“Funeral expenses. I’ll put it in even if you don’t say it. I can at least keep a ledger.”
I looked at him. The Rat Merchant deliberately stared only at the screen.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s your money anyway.”
“You did well.”
“Don’t compliment me. It’s weird.”
Ghost Van opened the iron door. The darkness outside the shelter was revealed. I took a step. The burned area on my back pulled tight. The Joker Card trembled coldly at my fingertips.
Seon Woo-rak spoke from behind.
“Kang Doyun.”
“What.”
“Bloodlust Frenzy reacts strongly to blood and killing. If you create too much of a blood scent at the scene, it may actually raise the stacks.”
I answered without stopping.
“Minimize the blood scent.”
“Heart sounds, footsteps, and command interference may be effective. However, calling the child’s name will likely have no immediate effect.”
“I’ll call her anyway.”
“Why?”
“So she can hear it later.”
Seon Woo-rak was silent for a moment. It was a rare moment of quiet from him. The Rat Merchant gathered his terminals and followed.
“Do I have to go too?”
“You can stay here.”
“If you die in the field, my money, my contract, and my safety all go up in smoke too. So I’m going. Don’t misunderstand.”
“I didn’t.”
“Good then.”
Ghost Van sat in the driver’s seat. The Rat Merchant squeezed himself into the space behind the passenger seat, and Seon Woo-rak picked up his portable measuring device and sat in the back. I took one last look at the shielding box inside the shelter. The sunspot stone was quiet. No. It was pretending to be quiet. That black resonance was always waiting somewhere.
Black Sun. The void. The Slaughter Dog. The subcontracting network. Everything was slowly connecting in the same direction. But right now, only one thing mattered.
Guro District 12. The 12-B Closed Alley. Han Bit-na.
I closed the car door. Ghost Van stepped on the accelerator. The vehicle slid into the darkness. The Rat Merchant looked at his terminal and said,
“Seventeen subcontractors inside 12-B. Over forty moving to the outskirts. Three Black Dog vehicles. Damage to the Slaughter Dog isolation door in progress.”
“Yoon Taeha?”
“No response.”
“He’ll come.”
“Where does that confidence come from?”
I looked at the black alleys outside the window. I knew what would happen if we were late. The subcontractors die. The Slaughter Dog is ruined. Black Dog cleans up the evidence. The people who arrive late see only a blood-soaked alley and burned ledgers.
This time would be different. It wasn’t too late yet. No. I was going to make sure it wasn’t too late.
“He’s a hero, after all.”
The Rat Merchant closed his mouth. Ghost Van’s car tore through the darkness of the closed zone. The two Joker Cards trembled faintly at my fingertips.
Black Dog was driving the subcontractors to the slaughterhouse. Han Bit-na was breaking out of that slaughterhouse. Yoon Taeha would come. And I—
If the dealer had opened the game, I suppose I should at least take the broken hand once.