Fishing Boats
The sports drama for which Director Kim Han-su had taken the helm seemed to be progressing smoothly.
Word had come that Writer Choi Mi-hyeon—who had handled Summer's Closet—had begun adapting the amateur basketball synopsis Yeon-woo had reviewed last time.
That project was originally based on a webtoon too, so Choi's ability to take someone else's idea and rework it is already proven enough.
In four days, Saebyeol Media would host a meeting with the key cast—including Dong-ha and Jin Yu-han—and the production staff. Of course, they still had a long way to go before a full script reading or production announcement.
The drama's story was little more than bare bones with almost no flesh on it, so before diving into detailed scripts, they planned to exchange ideas and help Writer Choi settle on a clearer direction.
Normally, most producers cast by hunting for the actor who best fits a role. In this case, though, the major roles were already locked in, which meant they could shape the characters to fit the actors instead. And among those confirmed cast members were no fewer than three men who could carry the male lead in any drama.
Come to think of it, that's the same combination that went viral from the stills on Star Beyond the River.
The photo of Son Jin-uk with his arms slung around Yeon-woo and Jin Yu-han, all three grinning wide, floated up in his mind. These were actors with real mileage in both film and television; sitting down together to bounce ideas around could only enrich the story.
Which means I need to push the Okinawa operation as far as I can in the four days I have free.
That didn't mean he had to rush. Reconnaissance was the kind of work where you tapped the stone bridge two or three times before crossing—erase every trace, move with absolute caution.
Yeon-woo watched the feed of Kim Su-hyeok's point of view shared on the monitor, then sent an address to Han Hae-un.
"Tell Kim Su-hyeok to start here."
"Understood. But where is this address? The intel was so thin I was still debating where to send him first."
Yeon-woo huffed a quiet laugh at Hae-un's question.
"It's the best ramen shop in that area."
"Excuse me?"
"Kim Su-hyeok. Better he eats something before he starts. He just spent a full twenty-five hours on a boat—he's probably seasick."
It had been more than ten years since Yeon-woo last set foot in Okinawa, but a quick search confirmed the place was still open in the exact same spot. The ramen was made with a rich, long-simmered special meat broth; a bowl of that soup would settle Su-hyeok's churning stomach.
"Team Leader, do you know what this is?"
"What?"
"I think you're a tsundere."
Yeon-woo's brow twitched at the voice coming through the headset.
"...Stop talking nonsense and just send the address."
"Ohhh. So you know what a tsundere is?"
Hae-un had fully expected Yeon-woo to ask what that even meant; the fact that he understood was a surprise.
"After the variety show shoot last time, I decided I needed to keep up better with songs and new slang, so I've been studying."
"Hmm, calling 'tsundere' new slang is a bit of a stretch..."
"It's current intel to me."
While Yeon-woo and Hae-un bantered, Kim Su-hyeok rented a car and headed for the address. Once he arrived and stepped out, he looked from the location on his phone to the shop in front of him and tilted his head.
"Alpha-Beta. Is this the right address?"
Hae-un opened the channel and answered with deliberate weight. His voice was low, mid-register, completely stripped of emotion—dry as dust.
"You're probably feeling seasick by now. Wouldn't it be better to settle your stomach before the operation starts? That's the best place in the area."
"Ah... Yes. Thank you."
The unexpected consideration, delivered in that flat Alpha-Beta tone, seemed to touch Su-hyeok; he sounded genuinely grateful. Listening in, Yeon-woo snorted.
"Well, well. Why the voice and the tone?"
Hae-un's reply came right back.
"Pardon? I copied your past-life speech patterns exactly."
Yeon-woo scratched his cheek.
"Huh. Did I really sound like that?"
The longer he lived as Ryu Yeon-woo, the more the edges of his previous self blurred. Even the opera and musicals he had once enjoyed as a hobby only lasted until his seventh year in the overseas division. After that, the final stretch of years had ground his mind down until, at some point, he had become something like a machine—thinking of almost nothing that wasn't mission-related.
Baek Yu-hyeon, Hae-un's past life, had probably been assigned around then.
After a moment lost in the past, Yeon-woo spoke again.
"A lot really has changed, hasn't it. Have most of your past-life memories come back? If the headaches or the dreams are still giving you trouble, I know a pretty good hypnotist..."
He was thinking of the uncanny acting therapy Jeong Cheol-min used to do with candles lit.
"Hypnotist? I'm fine. Most of it has come back now, and the headaches are almost gone."
"Good. Glad to hear it."
In the meantime, Kim Su-hyeok had ordered ramen and started eating. Come to think of it, after the commercial shoot the rest of the members had gone out for a team dinner, but Yeon-woo had made an excuse about the Okinawa op and come straight home—so he was running on empty himself.
"Hmm. Watching him is making me hungry. You eat yet?"
"I already have."
"Then I should order some ramen for delivery too."
Hae-un sounded startled.
"Team Leader, you know how to use a delivery app?"
"...Just how low do you think I am?"
"Ahem. I wasn't looking down on you, exactly..."
Any further talk would only hand Hae-un more material to tease him with, so Yeon-woo turned his attention to his phone and placed the order.
Meanwhile, in a ramen shop in Okinawa, Kim Su-hyeok was quietly marveling with every bite. He came across as taciturn, but that was only because he was bad at showing it.
Ohh—the rich, hot meat broth sliding down my throat and into my stomach is calming the queasiness bit by bit. This place is incredible. I have to remember it.
Unexpected consideration paired with food that lived up to it left Su-hyeok feeling full and oddly at ease, even though the operation hadn't even started.
Wait—did Alpha-Beta plan even this? To maximize my efficiency...
Every time he reviewed the manuals during an op he felt it, but the small arrangement hidden inside a bowl of ramen made him admire the foresight all over again. And the architect of that foresight was currently in his Seoul apartment, heading out to collect the food a delivery driver had left at the door without a second thought.
Once his stomach was settled, Kim Su-hyeok's next destination was the coastal road that figures presumed to be Baeksol personnel had all commonly passed through.
Using satellite imagery and tourist photos, Han Hae-un had already identified a small harbor where local fishing boats launched, but Su-hyeok was heading there to confirm it in person.
He had arrived in Okinawa at dusk; by the time he finished eating, full dark had fallen. The coastal road had no streetlights, and without the car's headlights the night was pitch black.
On the monitor Hae-un and Yeon-woo were watching via screen share, Su-hyeok's position marker moved across the map. They cross-checked it against the points they had marked during the earlier research. As Su-hyeok drew close to the area where they expected the harbor to be, Hae-un spoke.
"GPS puts you right around there. Park somewhere suitable and check it yourself."
"Understood."
Su-hyeok pulled into a makeshift parking area on the shoulder of the coastal road and got out. The darkness was total, but that only made it better for moving unseen.
Dressed entirely in black, he advanced toward the coordinates Alpha-Beta had sent.
"The sun only just went down, but out in the countryside it's already this dark. Switching to night vision."
He activated the device; the transmitted feed shifted to green, lighting up the shadows. After walking along the shore for some time, a small pier came into view.
A modest dock finished in gray concrete over stacked brick held six fishing boats moored side by side.
Watching the feed, Hae-un spoke.
"We're seeing six right now, but there are probably more boats that use this harbor, right?"
"Possibly. Still, the marine forecast for these waters says the waves will be high tonight, and dense sea fog is expected before dawn. Most of them won't put out."
Su-hyeok's voice came through.
"What next?"
"First, thoroughly confirm no one is nearby, then examine the exterior of the moored boats."
"Understood."
Hae-un closed the channel and turned to Yeon-woo.
"Do you think one of those is the boat they use?"
"Hmm. That's what I'm turning over right now."
The ultimate goal of the operation was to uncover what Baeksol was doing in Okinawa. To do that they needed the location of their base, which meant finding the boat those people used came first.
While Yeon-woo thought it through, Su-hyeok climbed onto the roof of a wooden bus shelter near the harbor and used a thermal camera to confirm no one was within a two-hundred-meter radius.
"Perimeter clear. No people, no surveillance cameras. Beginning boat search."
Then, with footsteps so quiet they barely registered, he boarded each of the moored vessels in turn and examined them carefully. He worked through every boat the same way, but nothing of note turned up. Whether Baeksol or ordinary fishermen, no one left logs or other materials lying around carelessly on a boat.
Watching through the monitor, Yeon-woo rested his chin on his hand and sank into thought.
Hmm. What's the real difference between a fisherman and Baeksol? Whether they catch fish or not, most likely.
Fish...
After turning it over for a long while, Yeon-woo cast his mind back to the days he had infiltrated Okinawa under cover. At the time he had been posing as someone shooting a documentary on marine ecosystem pollution, so he had actually needed to produce results.
When I took a fishing boat out a little farther that time, I'm sure...
Something clicked; a faint smile touched his lips.
"Hae-un."
"Yes."
"Years ago I rode a fishing boat near Okinawa. The fisheries in these waters have one distinctive trait."
"...Why on earth were you on a fishing boat? And what trait?"
Yeon-woo kept his eyes on the boats filling the monitor and continued.
"The fish commonly caught around Okinawa all share one thing—lots of silver scales."
It was a region thick with grouper called mībai and skipjack tuna—katsuo.
"Whether it's a fixed net or a gill net, once you haul them up they thrash and scrape against each other and dump silver scales all over the deck. Eventually you need a broom to sweep them up."
"Ah! So the storage holds where they put the catch, or the cracks and corners of the boat, would have scales and residue stuck in them."
Hae-un grasped it immediately and relayed the order to Su-hyeok.
"Check around the storage holds on deck and in the corner crevices for fish scales."
"Understood."
If the boat belonged to them, it would be used purely for transport—or for moving drugs—so the odds were high it would be clean.
After searching for some time, Su-hyeok spoke.
"I think I've found it. Of all these boats, only one is completely clean."