Cotton and Saebyeol
The building's ownership transfer had been cleanly completed under the name of a corporation run by the cover identity Terrence Williams.
Late that same night, Yeon-woo and Han Hae-un met on the fifth floor of the newly purchased building.
"This will be our base of operations from now on."
"Congratulations on becoming a landlord, Team Leader."
Yeon-woo snorted a quiet laugh and looked at Han Hae-un.
"Landlord, my ass."
"By the way, that realtor was solid. Fast, precise, and sharp enough to clock exactly what a client wants."
"He handled the purchase of my house pretty well too. Did you get the blueprints?"
The Mokhwa Building was old enough that finding the original design drawings had been difficult.
"Fortunately it was completed in '96, so the plans do exist."
South Korea had begun managing building status drawings at the national level in 1995. But the architectural plans Han Hae-un had obtained weren't proper blueprints — just simple floor plans for each level.
"Did you look up the designer listed on the building registry?"
"Yes. The firm went under, and the designer is already dead."
"Nothing we can do about that. Let's hope our guess is right."
Yeon-woo glanced behind him and gave the order.
"Before we start work, shut down the elevator so nobody can come up."
"Understood."
Han Hae-un unlocked the elevator control panel and cut the power. Meanwhile, Yeon-woo studied the building's walls.
"Hand me those floor plans."
At Yeon-woo's request, Han Hae-un pulled several sheets of paper from his bag.
"You might not notice it from inside, but the sense of space is definitely different compared to the other floors."
Yeon-woo drizzled cooking oil he'd brought over the first- and fifth-floor plans. As the paper absorbed the oil, it turned faintly translucent. Then he layered the two sheets on top of each other.
"Look at this. The length-to-width ratios don't match. A design where the columns don't line up is nonsense."
A building's load-bearing skeleton simply could not be misaligned like that.
"We'll need to take actual measurements."
Han Hae-un pulled a laser distance meter from his bag.
Beep—
"Yeah, it doesn't match the records. The building's depth is short by a solid three meters."
Yeon-woo nodded and walked to the far end of the left-hand wall he'd only seen on screen, examining the joint. Where the dark gray finish continued, he found a section that abruptly shifted to a pale concrete color.
"The finish color is different. This is definitely a false wall put up long after the building was finished."
"We'll have to break through and see what's inside."
At Han Hae-un's words, Yeon-woo rolled his shoulders and stretched. To check the building's plumbing and other systems without drawing attention, the only options were to tear into the framing by force or heat the pipes and shoot them with a thermal camera. If they wanted to uncover this building's secrets without anyone knowing, they had no choice but to trust their instincts and go.
"Guess it's time to swing a sledgehammer again."
Han Hae-un grinned.
"Team Leader. What century is this that you're talking about sledgehammers?"
He pulled a concrete demolition hammer drill from his bag.
"This'll tear it down in no time. Put on a mask and stand back there."
"What else are you going to pull out of that bag? I'm starting to think of a certain blue cat character."
"Come on, that guy's got a front pocket."
Yeon-woo stepped back, and Han Hae-un fired up the electric drill.
Whiiirrr—
Drrrk—
The drill bit bit into the wall and began pulverizing concrete.
"The wall really is thin."
Dust flew almost immediately, and through a fist-sized hole the dark space on the other side came into view. If this had been an exterior wall as the blueprints claimed, it never would have been this thin.
"Maybe I'm just bad at this, but my arms are going numb."
"Switch."
Yeon-woo took the drill and started it up again. He set it at a slight angle and drove the massive bit deeper into the concrete, working the recoil to gradually widen the opening. After a long stretch of demolition, a hole large enough for a person to pass through had been punched in the wall.
Whiiir—
He cut the power. Yeon-woo and Han Hae-un stood before the opening.
"Let's go in."
"Yes, sir."
Han Hae-un switched on a lantern and checked the floor first, stepping carefully inside in case the foundation was compromised, then sweeping the surroundings.
"Clear."
Yeon-woo followed, lantern raised, scanning the walls.
"There's a distribution panel over there."
"Got it."
Han Hae-un approached, opened the panel, and flipped the switch.
Click—
Light flooded an interior space that looked unused for anywhere from several months to several years.
"Yeah. Just as I thought."
Inside stood a single table, and beyond it an elevator and an emergency stairwell. This had almost certainly been a VIP-only secret room back when the place ran an illegal gambling den. Judging by the flickering ceiling lights, the space had sat idle long enough that the whole electrical system would need repairs.
"We should have the elevator inspected first."
"Then let's take the stairs down and see where they lead."
"Yes. Let's go."
Creak—
Yeon-woo and Han Hae-un opened the emergency stairwell door and started down. With no exit doors onto the other floors, it seemed that from the first through fourth floors — aside from the stairwell and elevator shaft itself — there were no secret spaces like the one on the fifth.
"So we can use just the fifth floor and lease out the rest."
"That actually makes for better cover. Our people only need to move through this passage."
"Was there a secret exit on the first floor, though? I didn't see one when we looked around earlier."
Han Hae-un nodded at Yeon-woo's words.
"I didn't see one either."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and sure enough, there was no exit on the first floor.
"Hmm. The wall markings say this is the first floor, but it looks like it connects underground?"
Yeon-woo shook his head.
"No, not underground. It connects to the back of the building. There's a pretty significant grade difference between the front and rear."
"Ah — there was a slight downhill slope along the side of the building."
At the foot of the stairs stood a gray door.
"We don't know where it leads, so open it carefully."
"Yes."
Yeon-woo pulled on a cap and mask. Han Hae-un took the lead, unlatched the bolt, and eased the door open — revealing the kitchen of what looked like a shuttered restaurant.
"Where is this?"
Hearing Han Hae-un's whisper, Yeon-woo pointed ahead. A menu board on the wall read Mokhwaru.
"Looks like the failed Chinese restaurant behind the building."
"Mokhwa Building, Mokhwaru. Same original owner, then."
Yeon-woo stroked his chin at that.
"Hmm. Mokhwa — cotton flower. The original owners had a sense of humor."
"Sir?"
Yeon-woo grinned and went on.
"Doesn't 'mokhwa' make you think of Mun Ik-jeom?"
The Goryeo scholar-official who, while on a diplomatic mission to the Yuan dynasty, had smuggled home cotton seeds — a banned export — hidden in his ink-brush case. Of course, modern historians debated whether Yuan cotton had even been a prohibited item, and the records from the late Goryeo and early Joseon periods simply said he had "obtained" the seeds, leading many to call the brush-case story a fabrication. But Mun Ik-jeom and his cotton remained a famous tale that nearly everyone knew.
Han Hae-un clapped his hands at Yeon-woo's words.
"So we're the cotton seeds sneaking in and out of the building?"
"Something like that."
Mokhwa Building and Mokhwaru.
"We're going to have to acquire this Chinese restaurant building too."
The purchase of the Chinese restaurant building was left to Han Hae-un, who in turn directed the three operatives to clean up the fifth floor that would serve as their base.
Meanwhile, Yeon-woo stood at the second-floor office window of Theater Group Saebyeol, letting the late-winter sunlight wash over him as he gazed absently down the quiet alley of Hyehwa-dong.
Watching him, Woo Seong-sik lifted his smartphone.
Click—
"Damn, that's a killer shot. Looked like a magazine spread."
Yeon-woo huffed a laugh at Seong-sik's words.
"You sound like some neighborhood thug uncle."
"Says the guy who's been an uncle since high school."
Yeon-woo shrugged. Hard to argue when he actually was one.
"Mind if I post this on my Byeolstar?"
"Knock yourself out."
"Okay. Follower acquisition time!"
Just then Kim Ju-hyeong pushed open the door and came in.
"Se-yeong unnie and Jae-hun sunbae are here. Want to start rehearsal soon?"
"Yeah. Let's head down."
Kim Se-yeong and Ha Jae-hun were actors sent over from the troupe Jeong Cheol-min ran. They'd joined the previous week and had already been a huge help.
Makes sense — they've got real theater experience.
In terms of pure acting ability, how many people in Korea could surpass Ryu Yeon-woo and Jin Yu-han? But experience mounting a play on an actual stage was something else entirely. From efficient blocking onward, the two of them were making a difference across every aspect of the troupe.
As Yeon-woo started to follow his friends downstairs, a man walking the alley caught his eye.
"Hm? That guy…"
The solidly built middle-aged man was someone Yeon-woo knew quite well. He called down the stairs.
"You guys start without me! I'll be right back — just stepping outside for a second!"
"Okay!"
Hearing the reply from below, Yeon-woo bolted out into the alley. By the time he got down, the man's retreating figure was already some distance ahead.
"Director Im!"
The middle-aged man stopped and turned around.
"…Huh? Yeon-woo?"
The man looking back was lighting director Im Seong-su — the director who had handled lighting on Summer's Closet. At a cast dinner once, Yeon-woo had found him passed out cold in a corner of the parking lot and carried him all the way home on his back.
"Man, how long has it been? Great to see you. Our Yeon-woo's a big star now. Every time you do well, it makes me so damn happy."
"Come on, big star? It's good to see you too after so long, Director. What are you doing around here at this hour?"
"Me? Looking for work. I pick up side gigs in Daehangno now and then. My daughter's starting college this year. My back's gonna break. Break, I tell you."
Yeon-woo's eyes lit up at Director Im's words.
"With a theater troupe? Lighting work, you mean?"
"Of course. That's how I put food on the table."
Lighting was critically important in theater. Depending on how the light fell, you could amplify an actor's presence or pull every eye in the house to a single point. At first they'd planned to train the troupe members to sprint over and work the board during moments they weren't onstage — but that had turned out to be far harder than expected.
And Im Seong-su, who ran lighting on major drama productions, was in fact one of the best in the business.
Having made up his mind, Yeon-woo nodded and looked at the director.
"Then how about working with me? I'll pay top of the industry."
"Work? Out of nowhere? You going into a project?"
Then he immediately shook his head. No way an actor would personally recruit a lighting director for a production he was joining.
Watching Director Im tilt his head in confusion, Yeon-woo spoke.
"Come handle the lighting for Theater Group Saebyeol. We're nothing special yet — but we're about to shake this country."