Reclaim
I stood in a vast darkness, with no idea where I was.
No— it wasn’t darkness at all. It was only that dark.
A low ceiling hung overhead, and a single lamp in the corner flickered weakly, lighting the briny night air.
Probably some inn in the late pre-dawn hours. Someone was sitting across from me.
“So you’re saying you won’t follow the family’s orders?”
Even after my question, he only smiled from the other side of the table.
Instead of the black mask of Dok-ryeong, he wore the blue training robes of Namgung Family.
I warned him that danger was coming, but he just shook his head while looking out at the mist over West Lake.
“The tea at West Lake is milder than Sichuan’s.”
Thirty-Eight Shadows. Back in my Dok-ryeong days, he had been one of the few comrades—and seniors—I’d ever had.
He’d taken on a new name, “Yangwi,” where he’d stayed for infiltration, and had grown drunk on the warmth that name gave him.
Even as the armies of Manmajeon were about to swallow Hangzhou whole, he remained serene.
“Seven Shadow, you should go back. I’m staying here.”
And the very next moment, the splendid pavilions of Hangzhou were consumed by flames.
Amid the screams and the fire, the final words he left behind never reached me.
When I stretched out my hand to grab him, all I could catch was hot ash and the stench of blood.
And then…
***
I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of the rundown one-room apartment.
How long had it been since I’d dreamed like that? I lay there for a moment, then forced myself upright.
“Ungh…”
A groan slipped out of me on its own.
Sunlight was already spilling in through the window.
I checked my phone. 10:00 a.m.
I’d been out cold for just over five hours.
I could hear Marcus breathing in the bed.
Slow, steady breaths. He didn’t seem to be in immediate danger.
The antibiotics and painkillers I’d forced on him last night seemed to be doing their job.
“Let’s see…”
I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead and felt a slight fever.
It might have been the early stages of infection, or it might simply have been the body beginning to recover.
For now, all I could do was watch and wait.
I washed my face in the sink with cold water.
When I looked in the mirror, I was a sight. Dried blood was caked all over me.
On top of that, I still felt nauseous from overextending my internal energy.
Even the slightest movement sent aches through my muscles, and the tips of my fingers trembled faintly.
“Ha… somehow this feels familiar…”
Las Vegas suddenly flashed through my mind, and I let out a dry laugh.
After a short sigh, I grabbed my jacket and searched the inside pocket.
It was the old phone that had been delivered by courier the day before we left for Hong Kong.
It had come with a prepaid SIM already inserted, and there was exactly one saved contact.
Obviously, it had been given to me for emergencies.
At this point, this definitely counts as an emergency.
I held down the call button for the one stored contact.
Before long, the ringing went on and on, and the call connected around the fourth tone.
A brief silence.
I could hear, very faintly, the sound of someone steadying their breathing on the other end.
“…Lee.”
Elena said my name in a low voice.
After a moment’s hesitation, her first question was simple.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“What about Marcus?”
“He’s alive. He took a gunshot to the shoulder, and a few of his ribs are broken. Fortunately, the bullet passed cleanly through, and I’ve already handled the urgent first aid. He’s asleep now.”
A short breath slipped from the receiver.
I couldn’t tell whether it was relief or a sigh.
“…Then report the situation.”
I started from the beginning.
Marcus had gone in alone to the meeting place, and soon after, gunfire had broken out. I told her we’d been attacked by a third party, and that everyone on the Yee Hing Tong side was dead. The goods had already been stolen. We’d shaken off the Triads and were now hiding in a safe house. I finished by saying there had been about two attackers, and that they’d moved with clear planning and professional discipline.
Elena listened to the end without interrupting me once.
A brief silence followed.
“I’m sorry.”
It was only one line, but the complicated feelings packed into it were obvious.
A little guilt. Maybe responsibility. Something along those lines.
“It would be a lie to say I didn’t anticipate some risk. But truly, I never intended to send you somewhere dangerous. It was supposed to be a very simple deal, and even if it went wrong, we had a backup plan in place. That probably sounds like an excuse now.”
Elena stopped there for a moment.
When she spoke again, her usual cool, precise tone had returned.
“From here on, I’ll take command. Return to Korea immediately with Marcus. One of our people will meet you at Hong Kong International Airport. We’ll handle the rest of the necessary arrangements there.”
The decision came faster than I expected.
So there really had been contingency plans if the deal failed.
“And the goods?”
My question was met with a brief silence.
“It would have been best to bring them back safely, but now there’s nothing to be done. You don’t need the details, but… most of our branches in East Asia will probably be withdrawing for a while. That’s all you need to know.”
Branch withdrawals across East Asia.
Elena had glossed over it as if it were nothing, but it sounded like a much bigger deal than she was letting on.
“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”
“And… Lee.”
Just as she was about to hang up, Elena called to me again.
She hesitated for a moment, then added quietly,
“I hope you make it back safely. See you in Korea.”
Then the line went dead.
I took the phone apart, pulled out the SIM, snapped it in two, and tossed it down the drain.
I dunked the rest of the handset in water as well.
While washing my hands, I stared up at the ceiling.
Most of the branches will be withdrawing.
That line kept circling in my head.
Then Marcus came to mind.
The way he’d been talking with the old man in front of the fruit stand in Sheung Wan.
The way he’d sat like a regular at the seafood restaurant with no sign out front.
The way he’d lifted a hand in greeting to the old barber on Pottinger Street.
Going by Marcus’s own words, didn’t that mean all those people were now in danger?
Then I heard rustling behind me.
“…So you talked to Burns.”
Turning around, I saw Marcus had opened his eyes.
***
“You awake?”
Marcus didn’t answer. He only stared quietly toward the window.
I didn’t bother asking whether he’d heard the phone call. His face already gave me the answer.
“Thanks. You saved my life.”
He tossed the words out bluntly, then slowly tried to sit up.
He must have been in considerable pain, because his eyebrows twitched faintly.
“Better not. If you move now, those stitches I just put in might tear open again.”
Marcus ignored me halfheartedly.
He gritted his teeth, hauled his upper body upright, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Cold sweat ran down his forehead, but his eyes were sharp.
“…You’re pretty skilled. Clean stitching.”
He muttered that while groping at the bandage over his shoulder.
I shrugged.
“I am a doctor, after all. A traditional one, but still.”
At that, Marcus barked out a laugh and immediately winced.
“Anyway… Burns told you to come back?”
“Yes. Not just us—the vast majority of the East Asia branches are pulling out too.”
Marcus nodded.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of surprise on his face.
“I see. From headquarters’ point of view, that’s the obvious call.”
He picked up one of the painkillers left in the first-aid kit and swallowed it without water.
Instantly, he grimaced from the pain.
“Hey, Marcus. What the hell is that thing, anyway? Why is everyone making such a fuss over it?”
Marcus looked at me.
He stayed silent for a while, as if he were weighing something, and let out a long breath.
Then, with a heavy sigh, he finally spoke.
“HSM. Hardware Security Module. Put simply, it’s like a master key that can access the lists of our people, communications network, and classified data in East Asia.”
So that was what it was.
Now I understood why Marcus had insisted on getting it back so desperately.
“Headquarters has been dealing with a lot of chaos lately, in one way or another. And somewhere in the middle of that mess, this thing leaked out. Pretty obvious what happened, isn’t it? Someone sold it for money. Headquarters must’ve already been preparing for the possibility that this deal would fail. Like I said, risk is something you manage and prepare for.”
Marcus looked out the window.
“But this isn’t such a simple matter.”
He murmured it in a low voice.
It wasn’t his usual blunt, stubborn tone.
“If we withdraw completely from here, the balance in this city will break. Things will get messy for a while. And everyone who’s worked with me for the past twelve years will get dragged into the chaos too.”
“Marcus…”
“Withdraw? Sorry, but I have nowhere to go back to.”
His voice sounded almost like a growl.
With his jaw clenched tight, he went on pouring out the words.
“I’ve been here for twelve years. What exactly would I have left? A home? Family? Hell, what am I supposed to do if I go back to Langley? Sit in a vacant office writing reports and watch this place collapse? No, I can’t do that.”
Silence hung between us for a long while.
I just watched Marcus. His face was pale, his bandages soaked with blood, sweat cooling on his skin.
And yet his eyes still burned bright.
Then the face from my dream flickered through my mind.
Yangwi and Marcus, both smiling with their backs to the burning streets of Hangzhou.
Ridiculously enough, the two faces seemed to overlap somehow.
“Haah…”
I had always hated men like this.
In my past life, and now too.
“So what are you planning to do?”
At my question, Marcus narrowed his eyes.
“You’re not just being stubborn without a plan, are you? There’s a way to get the thing back, isn’t there?”
“…Yeah.”
Marcus answered at once.
“There are things I haven’t reported to headquarters. When you work in a place like this, you naturally keep ties with other people. First, we need to find the bastards who attacked me yesterday. They had their faces covered, but judging by their build and bone structure, they weren’t East Asian.”
“Hmm. If they weren’t East Asian, that narrows it down.”
“Right, which helps. There are plenty of groups moving around this board right now. We can’t figure this out by chasing it on foot, and we can’t count on headquarters for support either. We’ll have to look through other channels.”
Marcus glanced at the old landline phone in one corner of the safe house.
“Fortunately, there’s someone who’ll know exactly how things are moving right now.”
“Good. Then let’s go see that person first. Together.”
Marcus froze at my words.
Then he stared at me for a long moment.
“…You’re serious?”
“Does it look like I’m joking in this situation?”
Silence passed between us. Marcus’s expression eased by a fraction.
He didn’t say thank you. Instead, he picked up the receiver.
“Let’s make the call first. If I’m right, he should help us.”
Marcus started making calls in Cantonese, dialing various numbers one after another. Every time he set the receiver down, his expression changed.
It seemed like information about the current situation was coming together.
I leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.
If we just went back to Korea like this, everything would be over.
No more trouble. No more risk.
Really, I went out of my way to make life difficult for myself.
Still, I had a near-certainty that if I left this stubborn old man here, he’d be dead before long.
And even knowing that, I didn’t exactly feel great about getting on a plane alone.
One such experience in my past life had been enough.
They did say my service time would be shortened depending on performance, didn’t they?
Then how much would a missing master key count as?
If this went well, I’d find out soon enough.
***
The place Marcus led us to was an old noodle shop in Sham Shui Po.
The paint on the signboard was half peeled away, and the shop sat deep in a narrow alley.
Thick smells of broth and frying oil drifted out from inside.
A middle-aged man was sitting alone at the table by the window.
He had the sort of face you’d find in any neighborhood in Hong Kong—just an ordinary uncle at first glance.
He was in his mid-fifties, with a slight belly and so little hair left that he looked almost pitiful.
A stretched-out polo shirt and a cheap jacket that looked like it had come from a market stall.
From the battered stainless-steel thermos in front of him came the strong aroma of aged pu’er tea.
When the middle-aged man saw Marcus, he raised a hand in greeting.
“Hey, Achang. You’re still not dead yet.”
He spoke in Mandarin.
Thankfully, it was within the range I could at least half understand.
“Almost was.”
“Looks like it. You’re a mess.”
The middle-aged man laughed heartily and glanced over Marcus’s bandaged shoulder. I sat down too.
He called something in Cantonese toward the kitchen. Not long after, three bowls of wonton noodles and a plate of char siu were brought out.
“Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”
The middle-aged man slurped down a mouthful of noodles first, then spoke as if nothing were unusual.
“Last night’s herbal shop in Sheung Wan. Four Yee Hing Tong men were killed, and the item went missing.”
He took a sip of pu’er tea.
“Lau Chi-sing from Yee Hing Tong blamed you two for it.”
“You know that’s a misunderstanding.”
“Of course.”
The man picked up a piece of char siu and smirked.
“The ones who attacked you were Eastern European mercenaries. A team of three. The leader’s a guy named Marek—former GROM, which means Polish special forces. The other two are one former Alpha Group man from Russia and one local driver-slash-hacker.”
He said it with the same casual tone someone might use to talk about the weather.
I stared blankly at him.
“We’re treating this as something the Russian SVR orchestrated. After all, it was SVR that originally tried to move the item through Yee Hing Tong. When the deal went sideways, they must’ve decided to take the item back directly. Sending mercenaries to sweep the board clean—that’s exactly the kind of thing those people do.”
“…Where are those guys now?”
“A guesthouse in the back alleys of Tsim Sha Tsui. They’re set to slip out on a smuggling boat bound for Macau tonight.”
The middle-aged man set down his tea and stared at me.
“Ah, so you must be the one I heard about. The fellow who turned eight of Lau Chi-sing’s men into half-wrecks.”
I stayed still with my chopsticks in hand.
I had no idea how to respond. The middle-aged man spoke calmly, without so much as a business card.
“My name is Luo Qing. Feel free to call me Mr. Luo. It’s easier than that stiff title of deputy director.”
“Ah, yes… just call me ‘Lee.’”
At my answer, he nodded with a strange expression.
Just as I was worrying he might ask more about me, Marcus cut in.
“Let’s stop the introductions there. Thanks for helping us.”
“Haha, considering our relationship, this is nothing. Whether you go after them or not, from here on out, do whatever you please. Repay your debts later, Achang.”
It was a warm smile.
But his eyes weren’t smiling at all.
“Ah, one thing, though. If you’re going to do something, keep it as quiet as possible. If you make too much of a fuss, even we’ll have trouble covering for it. You understand what I mean.”
He took another bite of noodles and added lightly, but unmistakably,
“And Lau Chi-sing from Yee Hing Tong is still after you. I’ll try to talk him down, but he seems pretty angry about what happened to his men. Be careful.”
Marcus slowly nodded.
“Thanks for the good information.”
Luo Qing closed the thermos lid and stood up.
“We don’t have much time. Tonight. Keep that in mind.”
He gave Marcus’s shoulder a light tap, then looked at me once more.
He smiled warmly.
“Young man, I hope we meet again. I’ll remember your name.”
Then he picked up the thermos and walked out of the noodle shop.
The middle-aged man’s back melted into the crowd of Sham Shui Po and disappeared.
As if he had never been there in the first place.
Smile while hiding a knife.
That phrase had been circling in my head ever since I first saw him.
He’d been smiling the whole time, but he was definitely not someone to take lightly. I could feel it instinctively.
“…That guy’s pretty damn slippery.”
Marcus shot me a sidelong glance.
After looking at me with that peculiar expression, he gave a small nod.
“He may look like that, but he’s a deputy director at the MSS. The kind of man who’d have a hundred foxes inside him. He sees right through things. He’d rather preserve the status quo than let our item fall into Russian hands and upset the balance.”
Marcus picked up a piece of char siu and went on.
“From the MSS’s point of view, if we succeed, they get to screw over the SVR without lifting a finger. If we fail, they don’t really lose anything either. Either way, it’s a profitable deal for them, so they’re willing to help.”
“And you’re using them knowing all that?”
“This kind of business is always people using each other while knowing full well what’s going on. Until someone stabs you in the back first.”
Marcus snorted and picked up his chopsticks.
“This place is pretty good. Eat first.”
Only then did I finally lift a bite of noodles.
He was right. They were surprisingly good.
Tsim Sha Tsui. Smuggling boat to Macau. Tonight.
We really didn’t have any time left.