Hidden Talent
"You little bastard, are you seriously screwing with me?"
Smack!
"Guh—!"
Mun Jeong-pal was kicked in the stomach and rolled across the floor.
"Say that again. What did you say?"
Forced to his knees after scrambling upright, Mun Jeong-pal confessed his crime.
"I-I... failed to bribe the detective. I’m sorry, boss."
"No, forgetting the failure for a second—where’s the money? That’s what I’m asking you!"
"T-that..."
Watching Mun Jeong-pal fumble for words, Baek Ok-chul’s eyes sharpened into a vicious glare.
"You bastard."
As Baek Ok-chul approached, Mun Jeong-pal flung himself flat on the floor.
"I-I donated it."
"What?"
An awkward silence fell over the office, where a murderous atmosphere had hung moments before.
"You did what? Did I hear that wrong?"
"To an orphanage... I donated it..."
"How much?"
"A-about twenty million..."
"Why? Did you decide to quit being a thug and become a charity angel?"
"Boss, you need to listen carefully to what I’m about to say..."
"Just die."
Thud. Thud.
"Ghk!"
Fury boiling over, Baek Ok-chul stomped Mun Jeong-pal like he meant to kill him.
Before long, Mun Jeong-pal was a wreck, crawling along the floor like an insect.
The other executives looked on with mocking sneers.
Serves the bastard right. Acting all high and mighty just because he went to college—I knew he was trash from the start.
Realizing he was going to get himself killed at this rate, Mun Jeong-pal grabbed Baek Ok-chul by the trouser leg.
"B-boss! We were tricked by that detective too. We planted a man whose identity wasn’t exposed, and he still figured out he was one of our people."
"And you think that’s an excuse now, you son of a bitch?"
Smack! Smack—
"Kheh!"
Having been beaten senseless for daring to add another word, Mun Jeong-pal finally blacked out mid-bashing and went limp on the floor like a boiled frog.
"Huff, huff... I’m the idiot for trusting a bastard like that."
Breathing hard, Baek Ok-chul spread two fingers, and one of the executives hurried over, set a cigarette between them, and lit it.
"Hoo..."
After blowing out a stream of white smoke, Baek Ok-chul let out a bitter laugh.
"Donate it... Ha! Thanks to that bastard, our organization’s got one more business line now. Charitable work. You motherfucker. Ptooey!"
He spat a thick glob of saliva onto the floor, narrowed his eyes, and spoke in a low voice.
"I know you’re conscious, so get up. Unless you want to be buried where you stand."
Mun Jeong-pal’s body jerked at once, then he flattened himself to the floor again.
"B-boss! I’ll fix everything."
"How?"
"F-first... we go to that orphanage and kick up a scene, demand they give the money back..."
"You stupid little shit!"
Crash—
"Ugh!"
When an ashtray came flying at him, Mun Jeong-pal ducked in a panic.
"Do we look like lowlife street punks? The cheapest bastards on earth are the ones who take back what they’ve given."
"S-sorry."
"And for fuck’s sake, if there’s a detective backing them, messing with the place could screw us all. Maybe that detective was hoping exactly for that."
"I-I didn’t think it through."
"Tch... And this Song Tan or whatever his name is—he doesn’t seem like an ordinary kid either. Damn it, one cop is enough to deal with, and now this shit..."
Just then, one of the executives checked his phone and his face hardened.
"Boss. I don’t think now’s the time to worry about some kid."
"What are you talking about?"
"The Dongbaek gang has caused trouble in our territory again. There was a clash with our guys, and one of ours got his leg mangled."
"What? Those fucking bastards really think I’m some joke..."
Baek Ok-chul’s face twisted like a demon’s.
The Dongbaek gang was a violent organization based in eastern Gyeonggi Province, and sometime ago they had started showing up in Annam City. Now they were openly picking fights.
"Yong Seong-cheol, you motherfucker... You think Baek Ok-chul is some cock you can piss on?"
The reason the Dongbaek gang, from another region, was swaggering around Annam despite having no ties there was obvious.
"You think I’m gonna split that honey pot with you? Baek Ok-chul would rather have his head cut off than do that."
A rumor had spread that redevelopment was about to begin in Annam City, a place that lagged behind other cities in many ways.
Wherever a big windfall was coming, money would come sniffing around.
Once redevelopment was confirmed, there’d be demolition contractors, waste disposal, labor supply, lien enforcement agencies—money that could be made just by sitting down and waiting.
And recently, redevelopment for the Seongnak-dong District 3 area had actually been approved.
The total construction cost alone was over one trillion won.
For the Annam Sikgu Family, it was the kind of money worth betting their lives on—a lifelong cash cow.
But as always, filthy bugs were bound to crawl all over a sweet pot of honey.
Out of nowhere, the Dongbaek gang had started getting involved in Annam’s redevelopment.
They’d latched onto a construction company pipeline.
After that, Dongbaek gang members kept stirring up trouble in the open, and quite a few of their own people had already been dragged into lockup by getting mixed up in it the wrong way.
"Those bastard dogs. They dare pull a knife on me, Baek Ok-chul, and in Annam of all places?"
Grinding his teeth hard enough to crack them, Baek Ok-chul swept his bloodshot gaze over the executives.
"What kind of land is Annam? It’s our turf, the ground we defended while bleeding from our bellies. And now those foreign barbarians think they can come here and pretend to be the owners."
BANG!
He slammed the table.
"From today on, make sure all the kids carry weapons. If you see anyone who looks like Dongbaek gang in Annam, don’t hesitate—crush them. Don’t think about what comes after. Got it? We’ll teach them exactly what happens when you piss off the Annam Sikgu Family."
The executives bent at the waist in half.
"Yes, boss!"
And so, in the once-quiet nights of Annam, cracks began to spread.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Today, Song Tan went not to Annam Police Station but to the Gyeonggi Southern Provincial Police Agency in Suwon.
He’d come to attend training as the representative of the Violent Crimes Unit at Annam Police Station.
Of course, in reality, he’d been dumped with the chore simply because he was the youngest.
Buzz, buzz—
The annex gym began filling with burly men.
Before long, detectives from across southern Gyeonggi who had a reputation for being a notch above the rest began to appear in droves.
"That guy over there. Isn’t he Inspector Park Tae-su from Anyang-Manan? The one who solved the Pyeongchon dismemberment murder case."
"Yeah, that’s him. Wow... he’s got serious presence."
"The Suwon Bulldozer is here too?"
"Who’s that?"
"You don’t know Lieutenant Lee Jun-hyeok? The guy who took down the Suwon Bukmun gang by himself?"
"Oh, that guy is that guy?"
Among the giant bodies so massive they were hard to tell apart from gangsters, Song Tan was tucked in with almost no presence at all.
A moment later, a man in black military-style training gear opened the door and walked in.
He wasn’t especially large or menacing-looking, but he carried a strange pressure that made the air feel heavier.
Without warning, silence settled over the gym.
"Let’s assemble."
At that heavy, blunt command, the detectives formed a semicircle around him.
"Pleased to meet you. I’m Kim Jong-gil, chairman of the Korea Krav Maga Association."
Clap, clap, clap.
"Today’s training is exactly what it sounds like: real-world response. Let’s imagine an assailant carrying a weapon—especially someone with a knife."
On the floor mats lay various protective gear and rubber knives.
The instructor picked up one of the rubber knives.
It was only made of rubber, but the shape and color were almost identical to an actual sashimi knife.
"You’re all field detectives, so you already know this. Real knife attacks aren’t like the movies. You don’t dodge neatly and subdue the culprit cleanly. If you get stabbed, that’s it."
The voice was calm, but because every person there had lived close enough to blades and blood to understand, the air grew cold.
The instructor glanced over the police officers surrounding him and called one man forward.
"You there, the one wearing a mask. Could you step forward for a moment?"
The man singled out went up reluctantly, an uneasy look on his face.
"Which unit are you with?"
"Lieutenant Jeong Han-sol, Criminal Affairs Team, Gyeonggi Southern Provincial Police Agency."
"Ah, I see."
Nodding, the instructor suddenly raised the knife and made a stabbing motion.
"Hup?"
The startled man fell flat on his backside.
"Scary, isn’t it?"
The man nodded, dazed.
"All of you knew this was a training knife. And yet most of you would still react like that. This is exactly why visual training matters."
The explanation, more realistic than expected, made the detectives even more serious.
"We’ll train in stages. First, a telegraphed attack. Then random attacks. As for the final stage... I’ll explain that when we get there."
After a brief pause, the instructor scanned the detectives again.
Then he pointed at one person.
"You there, the sturdy-looking one."
"Huh? Me?"
"You’re a detective, right?"
"Yes. Lee Jun-hyeok, lieutenant from Suwon Yeongtong Police Station."
"You look exactly like it. Step forward for a moment, please."
Lee Jun-hyeok strode out confidently.
"Would you like some protective gear?"
"No, I’m fine."
"Then try arresting me as if I were the suspect."
The words had barely left his mouth when Lee Jun-hyeok charged in ferociously.
He extended his arm, trying to subdue the instructor in a single move.
At that very moment—
Smack—
The rubber knife skimmed past his neck.
"Killed."
The instructor’s voice was flat.
"Again."
This time Lee Jun-hyeok moved more carefully.
He kept his distance, watched the timing.
But—
Smack—
"Exsanguinated in the abdomen. Dead."
The result was the same.
The gym went silent again.
"This is what happens. Even if you block a knife coming in, you’ll still take countless cuts. The goal of today’s training is to make sure the knife never reaches your heart, even if you lose a finger. All right, let’s do this for real now."
Teams were organized.
Two people to a team, one rubber knife each.
"Do it as realistically as possible. I’ll walk around and check on each of you."
From that point on, knife clashes and screams broke out here and there in fits and starts.
"Agh!"
"Jesus, that hurts way more than I expected."
The instructor moved around, correcting their stances.
"When attacking low, you have to crouch properly. That way you won’t take a knife to the stomach."
"Never, under any circumstances, extend your arm straight out toward a weapon. Unless you want every finger gone."
Before long, the training was nearing its end.
By the time the sour smell of sweat had soaked the entire gymnasium, the instructor walked out slowly among the detectives, all of them breathing hard.
"All right, everyone back to your spots. Let’s wrap this up."
The detectives formed a semicircle again.
The instructor glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, then raised one hand.
"Who here has the least seniority?"
As if by agreement, everyone’s gaze landed on Song Tan.
He looked obviously younger than the rest.
"I think that would be me."
"Step forward."
When Song Tan came forward, the instructor picked up a rubber knife.
"As I’ve been walking around and watching, most of you do this sort of thing."
The instructor slowly swung the knife and made a halfhearted blocking motion.
"Because it’s buried in your subconscious. This person is my partner."
At that sharp rebuke, the atmosphere turned heavy.
"Would a real criminal with a weapon attack you that way? Absolutely not. They’d be worked up, swinging without mercy, and your bodies would end up covered in blood."
The instructor tapped the tip of the rubber knife and looked at Song Tan.
"Your affiliation and name?"
"Song Tan, Police Officer First Class, Violent Crimes Unit, Annam Police Station."
"How many years in this year?"
"Three years."
Surprise flickered in the instructor’s eyes.
"Oh? You became a detective pretty quickly, then."
"I was lucky."
"Let’s see whether that luck holds up again. I’m the culprit, and I’ll stab and slash at you at random. Police Officer Song Tan, subdue me using what you learned today."
A murmur rippled through the room.
"Damn, he’s going to die."
"Yeah, seriously. That rubber knife hurts like hell."
"Look at this. I’m already turning purple with bruises."
Everyone expected it—the new detective screaming under the instructor’s merciless flurry of rubber knife strikes.
"Ordinary criminals hide weapons like this, walk up as if nothing’s wrong, and then suddenly do this!"
With no warning and no feint at all, the stabbing motion flashed toward Song Tan’s neck like lightning.
The detectives’ eyes widened.
The speed was incomparable to anything shown during training.
Song Tan’s head tilted back just slightly, and the knife tip skimmed past his jaw.
Without giving the slightest chance to breathe, the blade came again.
He retreated half a step, and the blade that was aimed at his abdomen sliced through empty air and brushed past the hem of his clothes.
The flustered instructor swung more and more wildly.
Rapid thrusts came rushing in.
Horizontal slashes scraped at his flank.
Even an upward stab from below.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
There wasn’t even the dull thud of blocks—only the wind-whistle of rubber knife blades cutting through the air again and again.
With movements bordering on artistry, Song Tan’s evasions made the watching detectives’ mouths slowly fall open.
In a flash, Song Tan slipped into the instructor’s guard, knocked the blade aside, and broke his center of balance.
The rubber knife flew far away and rolled across the mat.
"W-wait!"
Pinned to the floor with one arm twisted, the instructor frantically thumped the mat.