Finding the Hidden Gangster
Annam Police Station, Major Crimes Division conference room.
Normally, it was a space that only filled up during training sessions, but today it was packed tight, not a seat to spare.
Only the occasional cough broke the heavy silence.
Clack!
Lieutenant O Man-seok, who had taken the podium, irritably set down a thick file and stared at it as if it had personally offended him.
His bristling beard climbed all the way to his chin, and his bloodshot eyes seemed to speak for the mood he was in.
Picking up the remote, O brought the slides up on the screen.
The title read: Organized Crime Trends Related to Annam City Redevelopment.
The chief of detectives slowly swept his gaze over the conference room with a grave expression.
Under that leaden pressure, the detectives who met his eyes one by one straightened in their chairs.
The chief, holding the microphone, began in a mild tone.
"The situation right now is anything but ordinary."
He pressed the remote again, and the screen changed.
A map appeared, with the confirmed redevelopment district in Annam City outlined in red.
"As you all know, the government has officially announced the Annam NewCore urban renewal project. The budget runs into the trillions of won, which means the land included in it has become pure gold. The problem is that once money scented the air, flies started swarming in. More than we expected, too."
A red laser pointer tapped the areas slated for demolition.
"A job this big means money at every stage—construction subcontracting, demolition crews, waste disposal. For gangsters, it's nothing but a feast."
The screen changed again.
Photos appeared one after another.
It was a chart of the Annam Sikgu Family, the gang that had its fingers in everything in Annam.
"Familiar faces, aren't they? Those locals from the Annam Sikgu Family caught wind of it early and had their hands in the pot three months before the redevelopment announcement. They've taken shares in three demolition companies, and apparently they’ve even started working the pre-sale rights. Safe to say they’ve already set the board."
"Anyway, that bastard White Pig has a damn nose for money."
One detective from Violent Crimes Team 2 let out a dry laugh.
He was the same man who had once put handcuffs on the wrist of Baek Ok-chul, boss of the Annam Sikgu Family.
"Still, that much was within our expectations. When a sugarcane field gets overrun by insects, the flies aren’t exactly going to ignore it."
When the next slide came up, the room grew noticeably heavier.
More precisely, everyone saw a list of gang organizations from other regions, and the mood soured at once.
"The problem is, that honey jar was too sweet to just walk past. Outside gangs backed by construction companies are rushing in to stick their spoons into it. The detectives out on the street are probably already feeling it."
The detectives nodded as if they agreed.
There had been an unusual spike in violent crimes lately.
The chief of detectives advanced the slide once more.
Photos of shattered bars, burned-down shops, and floors smeared with blood lined up across the screen.
"The mugging at the Annam District Office intersection last Monday night, and the fire at the construction workers’ cafeteria in the redevelopment zone three days ago at dawn—there’s strong reason to believe those were all done by gangsters from out of town."
"They're making a show of it. Like they want to carve up the meal together."
"That’s probably what’s happening. But what gang in its right mind would sit still while outsiders start stirring up trouble in their own territory?"
"They absolutely wouldn’t. Those bastards would rather die than lose face."
"Right. Exactly. Which is why we’ve now received intelligence that the Annam Sikgu Family is preparing something big of its own."
"Preparing something like...?"
"Seems they’re short on numbers, so they’ve asked a gang organization in Chungcheong for help. Baek Ok-chul has ties over there, after all."
"Makes sense. I heard he used to be thick as thieves with the local boss there back when he was in prison."
"They're apparently loading up every tough guy they can find into vans and sending them into Annam. Estimated numbers are over fifty."
At that, the air in the conference room turned icy.
At that scale, this was no longer a simple neighborhood brawl.
One wrong move, and there could be a major casualty incident.
"Picture it: dozens of gangsters swinging knives in the middle of Annam City. If even one innocent civilian gets hurt? It'll be all over the news in no time, and from the commissioner on down, every one of us is going to be stripping off our uniforms. Got it?"
The room fell completely silent.
"So starting today, everyone goes on emergency alert."
Short groans rose from all around the room.
"The detective teams will thoroughly track the movements of the Annam Sikgu Family’s leaders. Share everything in real time with Intelligence."
"Yes, sir."
"The intel unit is to begin a full audit of the funding flow for all redevelopment-related companies. Make absolutely sure to check the routes where outside organizations might be slipping in."
"Understood."
"Lastly, if the violent crimes teams spot a bunch of guys in black suits hanging around the streets, stop them for questioning first and worry about the rest later. Use it as preventative policing—strengthening stops for crime prevention. Don’t let those punk bastards run wild, got it?"
At the chief’s threat, one detective muttered under his breath, loud enough to be heard.
"I mean... they don't exactly walk around with GANGSTER written across their faces, so how the hell are we supposed to identify every single one..."
The chief of detectives slapped the table with his eyes blazing.
Bang!
"Who the hell’s arguing with me!?"
"C-cough, no, sir."
The chastened detective shrank back into his chair.
Then another detective cautiously voiced his concern.
"Even so, sir, they're not going to cooperate willingly."
"That's right. To be honest, these punks know damn well we can't just go around roughing them up, so they're going to get crafty as hell."
Yanking his tie loose, the chief of detectives growled like an animal.
"I've already worked it out with the chief. If they disobey orders or act threatening, don't hesitate—just hit them with the Taser."
"R-really?"
"Yeah. I'll take the blame, so whatever happens, don't let those gang bastards run wild. You hear me?"
He set the microphone down and roared, his voice echoing through the room.
"Let me say this again: even if it causes a bit of noise, preventing a war is the top priority. The point is to make damn sure those bastards know the police are watching them with eyes wide open, and if they try any bullshit, we'll put them down immediately. Just like the War on Crime back in the '90s! Everyone understand!?"
"Yes, sir!"
The air in the conference room tightened like a drawn wire.
"Good! Team leaders will pass along the detailed instructions. Everyone dismissed."
Someone pushed back their chair and stood, and the others began to rise and move.
Unlike usual, there were no half-baked jokes, no idle chatter.
They all understood exactly how dangerous the situation was.
It was well past 1 a.m., but Seongrak-dong, Annam City’s largest nightlife district, was as hot and heavy as a furnace just coming into full blaze.
Red, purple, and blue neon signs flashed and strobed as if competing for attention, while music spilled from speakers all down the street and tangled into a dizzying racket.
"Ah, shit! I should've gotten that girl's number earlier!"
"Go get it now, you idiot."
"Some other bastard just snatched her up. Fucking hell."
"Moron."
Every time a bar door opened, a blast of cheap perfume and rowdy shouting spilled out into the street.
Along the roadside, it was common to see drunken customers staggering around, and one man was clinging to a utility pole while vomiting up a foul, thick stream of liquor.
"Ooooh~ Oppa~ don't be like that, come play with us. Mm?"
All over the district, women in short skirts hooked their arms into passing men and tried to reel them in, and the men they caught pretended to hesitate before letting themselves be dragged into the shops.
Then a coarse string of curses rang out, loud enough to shake the street.
"Hey, you fucking bastard! What did you just say!?"
"I said, why are you looking at me like that, you worthless shit?"
People passing by naturally turned toward the noise.
In the middle of the plaza, in the space between a bar and a karaoke sign, a circle had formed.
Inside it, two men in their twenties were grabbing each other by the collars.
Their faces were both red from drink, their pupils unfocused and hazy.
Their friends were trying to pull them apart from both sides, barely keeping them separated.
"Hey, cut it out!"
"Ah, hyung! Let's just go."
"No, fuck, that bastard keeps glaring at me. What kind of worthless little prick is he?"
"You're the one making a scene. You tiny little shit. You want to die or something?"
The two drunk men spat curses at each other, spittle flying from their mouths.
They twisted and strained as if they were about to launch themselves at one another any second, and the friends holding them back were wobbling too.
It was the instant before a real fistfight, when all it would take was one hand flying loose.
Then, all at once, the crowd’s murmur split apart like the Red Sea.
Someone had pushed through the onlookers.
Shoulders wide as the Pacific, upper-body muscles impossible to hide even through his T-shirt, and a thick neck that seemed almost fused to his torso.
That overwhelming presence, like a Kodiak bear in human form, opened a path naturally before him.
Anyone whose eyes met his instinctively lowered their gaze and stepped back without even thinking.
The man walked into the middle of the fight.
The two men who had been hurling obscenities at each other snapped their mouths shut like mute idiots.
The man looked from one to the other and said in a bored voice, "Why'd you stop? Go ahead and finish what you were doing."
Hic-
One of the men hiccupped, then clapped a hand over his own mouth in a panic.
As if he’d committed some terrible crime.
"What, you weren't going to hit each other or something?"
"N-no, sir?"
"No?"
When the man glared, the two hurriedly explained themselves.
Their drunkenness had vanished without a trace, and they spoke with painfully clear enunciation.
"No, it's not like that. We just had a small misunderstanding and were talking it out, right?"
"Y-yeah, that's right. It's nothing serious at all. We already worked it out. Ha ha..."
The two men threw their arms around each other's shoulders in a rush.
The man watched them silently.
The two swallowed dryly.
"I thought I was about to catch a mutual assault case and slap cuffs on you both."
The man clicked his tongue as if disappointed.
Then he clapped his hands with those wok-lid palms of his.
Clap clap—
"Well, if you've settled everything, let's disperse quickly. Hanging around in a group like this means you'll have to come with me to a bad place."
At the man’s threat-like invitation, the crowd rapidly scattered.
Having cleared up the situation, Lee Joo-seok scowled fiercely.
People walking toward them on the opposite side of the street flinched and veered away.
"This damn neighborhood never goes a day without a fight."
Song Tan, who had come up beside Lee Joo-seok, gave a subtle thumbs-up.
"Good work, senior. Clean as always."
"Hah. I shouldn't be spending my nights breaking up kids' fights. Where the hell are those gang bastards? Did they catch the scent and all go on vacation or something?"
"Looks like the information leaked already. The way they're laying low, it seems likely."
"Hah... Some rat's probably taking money from the gangs and feeding them info. No matter how many we root out, more keep crawling out. They're just cockroaches at this point."
Looking worn out, Lee Joo-seok flopped down onto a bench by the roadside.
"Ahh, my legs. Let's rest a bit before moving."
He leaned back and stretched his arms and legs out wide.
"Yawn, I'm so tired I could die."
Even as he rolled his neck from side to side, his eyes were busily scanning the surroundings.
Couples walking hand in hand, college students coming out with convenience store bags, drunk men staggering along while laughing, salarymen waving for taxis.
On the surface, they were all just ordinary people.
Lee Joo-seok's face twisted more and more.
"Dammit, how the hell are we supposed to pick the gangsters out of this crowd? We can't just start detaining people at random, and if we get hit with a mountain of complaints over it, we're the ones who'll get fucked."
He grumbled as he rubbed both hands over his face.
"And upstairs is just yelling at us to bring in gangsters already... Jesus, I'm losing my mind."
He tipped his head back and stared at the night sky, continuing his complaints like a man talking to himself.
"We're detectives, not fortune-tellers. How the hell are we supposed to know from their faces whether some bastard is a gangster or not? And let's be real—gangsters these days don't run around with buzz cuts and black suits like they used to."
At that moment, Song Tan, who had been sitting quietly beside him, answered in an even tone.
"I think I might know."
".......What?"
Leaving behind Lee Joo-seok's dumbfounded stare, Song Tan slowly stood.
Then, without another word, he started walking.
The direction of his gaze was the convenience store across the street.
At an outdoor plastic table, four men were each holding a can of beer and having a calm conversation.
They looked to be in their thirties. As plain and ordinary an appearance as you’d ever see on the street.