Pursuit
The back alleys of Tsim Sha Tsui.
In the cramped room of an old guesthouse, cigarette smoke mingled with the stench of sweat.
Of course, none of the men inside cared. If you wanted to do this kind of work, you had to give up a few basic comforts. Smell was a small price to pay.
“Hoo...”
Marek leaned against the window and looked down at the street.
A cigarette was pinched between the index and middle fingers of his right hand.
He hadn’t lit it. He was just holding it.
Because once it’s lit, that’s the end of it.
He liked that moment right before the flame caught, that instant when nothing had happened yet.
It was one of Marek’s habits.
On the room’s only table sat two bags.
One was a large black duffel. The other was a heavy hard case that looked like military equipment.
The thing inside that case was the target of this job. Hand that over to Viktor, and it was done. After that, it was none of his concern.
Marek checked his watch.
Forty-five minutes until departure.
“Not bad.”
Across from the table, Sergei muttered in Russian.
He had opened the duffel bag, pulled out a bundle of bills, and was stroking the money with his fingers.
Every time his thick fingers slid over the notes, the corners of his mouth lifted. He even sniffed them.
“Easy money, and good profit. Let’s do this more often.”
Marek didn’t answer.
The first time he’d met Sergei was three years ago in Belarus.
A former Alpha Group soldier from Russia. In handling heavy weapons and explosives, he was the most skilled, most professional man Marek had ever seen.
The problem was everything else.
Back in his service days, he’d been caught skimming supplies and selling them on the black market. When his superior pressed him on it, Sergei had nearly beaten the man to death and been discharged in disgrace. In the end, he’d even done time in prison—a completely uncontrollable lunatic.
He was competent in one thing only, a beast faithful to his instincts. The kind of man who lost all reason the moment money appeared.
Exactly the sort of person Marek distrusted most.
On the bed in the corner sat the other team member, Tau, staring at his phone screen.
The blue glow washed his face pale, but his expression didn’t change.
He checked something, then quietly set the phone down.
Tau, a hacker and driver from a triad background.
In this job, he was responsible for planning the overall route and securing the escape path.
He did his work cleanly, but he was impossible to read.
A man you can’t trust.
Marek flicked the cigarette from his fingers into the ashtray.
Last night’s job at the herb warehouse had been too easy.
Go in, shoot, take it, leave. There hadn’t even been real resistance.
Times like this, he sometimes missed his days in GROM.
Night raids in the mountains of Afghanistan. The rush of a bullet slicing past his ear.
Those moments when every cell in his body seemed to realize that he was still breathing.
“Ha...”
Marek wasn’t doing this job for money like that simple-minded Russian idiot.
He wanted a battlefield that was more dangerous, more thrilling. Without that, living and being dead were basically the same thing.
In that sense, this job was the worst.
Easy, short, and boring.
“Sergei.”
Marek finally spoke.
“Go out first and circle the area. If everything’s clear, we move.”
Sergei gave the duffel one last regretful look, then picked up his jacket.
“I’m taking the package myself.”
Marek jerked his chin at the metal case and fixed him with a look that made the meaning clear: don’t touch it.
This was the item to be delivered to Viktor. Everyone here knew very well what greed beyond necessity could bring.
“Yasno.”
Sergei shrugged and left the room.
The door closed.
Marek looked back out the window.
Beyond Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong’s night skyline stretched in long reflections across the water.
***
The alley across from the guesthouse.
I pressed my back to the exterior wall of the building and steadied my breathing.
The cold feel of concrete came through my back.
Unfortunately, Marcus had decided to stay at the safe house.
He was injured and could barely move in the first place, and the enemy already knew his face.
This time, I moved while Marcus backed me up.
“Hoo...”
I checked the old walkie-talkie inside my jacket. It was something Marcus had brought from the safe house.
He said it was an old model, but as long as the channel matched, it would work fine.
It was a good one, and invisible to the MSS surveillance net.
He really likes old-school stuff.
At this point, it just felt like Marcus’s taste.
I looked at the guesthouse where the men were holed up and slowly settled my breathing.
Then the energy that began in my dantian flowed along my meridians and spread through my body.
A heavy, slow pulse. My senses sharpened bit by bit.
At the same time, the noise in the Tsim Sha Tsui back alleys peeled away as if a veil had been lifted.
The distant sound of a taxi passing by, a door shutting somewhere, water running through drainpipes.
When I focused on hearing in this state, I could pick up three or four times more than an ordinary person.
Still, inner energy was gradually consumed, so I couldn’t maintain it for long.
I closed my eyes.
Sounds caught inside the three-story building.
Three breathing patterns.
One was heavy and slow, a rough breath that was almost a snore.
Another gave off the feeling of someone rustling around and touching things.
The last was almost inaudible. The type who suppressed even his breathing. Probably the leader.
The languages were mixed together.
Russian dominated, with Cantonese slipping in now and then.
I couldn’t understand much of it, but one word kept repeating.
A pronunciation that meant time.
And one word that sounded like a place name.
I immediately pulled out the walkie-talkie.
“Marcus. Sounds like they’re moving at 2 a.m. I caught something that sounded like a place name...”
After I passed along the pronunciation, Marcus’s voice came back a moment later.
The connection was rough, cutting in and out, but the message was clear.
— It’s an old pier on private land west of Hung Hom. Not the sort of place a regular passenger ferry would dock, so it’ll be a smugglers’ boat. Looks like Luo Qing was right.
I checked my watch. There were still forty minutes until 2 a.m.
Then the guesthouse’s front door opened.
A Westerner came out.
My first impression was that he was absurdly big.
When he stepped through the doorway, his shoulders were almost brushing the frame.
Short-cropped hair, a flat nose, a thick neck.
His back was so broad that the jacket strained around him, and he looked close to two meters tall.
On top of that, his muscles were visible even through his clothes. He wasn’t just big for the sake of it; his body had been trained to move efficiently.
So that’s the Russian mercenary Luo Qing mentioned.
I didn’t particularly want to imagine what would happen if that physique came charging at me.
But now that he was separated from his teammates, this was my chance.
I pressed the walkie-talkie.
“Marcus, one’s come out. He’s alone. I’ll take him out first.”
— Got it.
Marcus answered briefly.
Then, instead of pointless worry or nagging, he tossed me a different piece of information.
— I leaked to Yee Hing Tong that the men are carrying the item. Lau Chi-sing’s been hunting us like a dog that won’t let go, so he’ll definitely show up at the pier. He won’t come alone, so I can at least stir up some chaos for you.
Exactly what I needed while moving solo.
That was reassuring, at least.
“Understood. I’ll be there soon.”
I checked the time again and pressed myself against the wall.
The giant had stuffed his hands into his pockets and was walking deeper into the alley.
***
Where the streetlights broke off.
At the bend in the alley.
The giant stepped around the corner and headed into the inner stretch.
He swept his eyes along both sides, looked up, then forward again.
It was the kind of habit that comes from being meticulous about checking the surroundings, the way a scout does it almost by reflex.
But fortunately, he never looked behind him.
He didn’t seem to think anyone would be coming up on his back.
I closed the distance with my footsteps completely erased.
Two meters. One meter...
And when I got close enough.
I clenched my right middle finger so that the second knuckle stood out sharply. It took the shape of Bong-gwon, the Phoenix Eye Fist.
The point I was aiming for was Cheonchang, the spot where the area beneath the ear meets the jawbone.
If you hit this place, where the carotid artery and nerves cross, the blood flow to the brain can be cut off, and the target either blacks out instantly or, if they’re unlucky, dies.
If he dies, he dies.
This wasn’t a gentle situation.
With that thought burning in my head, I drove my fist in hard.
Throwing my weight into it as if I were leaping forward, I extended my arm toward his neck.
Thwack!
I felt the sharp knuckle of my fist land squarely on his Cheonchang point.
And yet the enormous Russian mercenary didn’t go down.
“Ghk—”
He clutched his throat and staggered.
His face flushed red in an instant, and thick veins bulged in his neck.
For one moment, the steel-hard muscles writhing in his throat came into view.
This monster was holding on purely through muscle and superhuman willpower.
What the hell kind of lunatic is this...
Slowly, he began to turn his body.
It felt like watching a giant wall move on its own.
As that massive frame rotated and his arm swept out, I, who had been pressed right up against him, was shoved back too.
I braced myself and tried to resist, but the force coming off that huge body was beyond anything I could control.
Bang!
My back slammed into the alley wall.
The air burst out of my lungs. My vision flashed white for an instant.
“...Ya tebya ublyu, melkaya yobanaya obez'jana.”
He muttered something in Russian.
I couldn’t understand a damn word of it, but weirdly enough, I felt like I knew exactly what it meant.
That he was furious, and that he wanted to kill me.
Then a huge hand came flying for my collar.
Whoosh—
His hand scraped past my chin.
I dodged by a hair’s breadth. My heart felt like it shrank in my chest.
Shit, if he catches me, it’s over.
I hastily widened the gap. He came after me in a blur.
The alley was too narrow to slip aside anywhere.
He filled the cramped passage with his massive body and pushed in like a charging rhinoceros.
Then his fist came flying.
For someone that large, the speed was explosive.
There was nowhere to evade. I twisted my head and barely dodged it.
Crash!
The fist that grazed past me buried itself in the brick wall behind.
I could feel dust scattering over my shoulder.
Is it even normal for a punch to make that sound when it hits a wall?
He didn’t stop. He lunged again.
This time he lowered his waist and drove in. Grappling.
His weight was balanced perfectly. If a gorilla charged straight at you, maybe this was what it would feel like.
But I moved forward instead, stepping in harder.
His elbow brushed past my ear. I could hear the air tearing.
Sliding into his body, I drove my fist into the side of his abdomen, where the liver sat.
Thunk!
This time, too, the impact landed with a satisfying thud.
The sensation of shock punching through the thick muscle and reaching the organs came straight to my fingertips.
His breathing stopped for an instant. But then, with a face twisted in pain, he swung his arm wide.
I can’t dodge that.
I hurriedly crossed both arms to block.
The moment that log-like forearm came crashing down, every bone in my body screamed.
I was lifted off my feet and thrown to the ground. My side burned as if it had been seared by fire.
“Kh, hhh...”
Grinding my teeth, I got back up, and he was already on me.
His footsteps were mechanical. Even though he was fully worked up, his pace kept a steady rhythm.
I got chills. This was a man whose fighting style had been welded into his body.
There’s no way I can beat him just by trading blows.
He reached out his huge hand again, trying to grab my collar.
This time, too, I stepped half a pace forward and let his wrist slip inward.
At the same time, I raised the second knuckle of my right middle finger and struck the bundle of nerves inside his elbow dead on.
“Aaaagh—!”
For the first time, a scream burst from his mouth.
In the instant his right arm lost strength and went slack, I swiftly hooked his wrist with my left hand, twisted the joint in the opposite direction, and dumped all my weight downward.
Crack!
With a horrifying sound, the wrist bent at an unnatural angle.
At the same time, the giant body that had seemed invincible lost its balance and lurched forward.
The instant he crashed to the ground, I drove my knee down into the back of his neck.
Bang!
The man slammed into the floor and clawed at the ground, trying to get back up.
I climbed onto his back at once, locked my arm around his throat, and compressed the carotid artery.
I drew on all my inner energy, and the veins in my arm bulged while my muscles started to scream.
“Grrk... gghh...”
With that enormous frame thrashing around, it felt as if the ground itself was shaking.
I gritted my teeth and held on, and at last I could feel the strength slowly bleeding out of his body.
Only when his movements had completely stopped did I finally loosen my arm.
“Haa...”
I rolled away from his back and collapsed flat onto the alley floor.
My whole body ached like I’d been beaten to pieces. Both of my hands were trembling badly.
“What a monster.”
He was the most terrifying opponent I’d fought so far.
Honestly, he’d been harder to deal with than the eight triad members I’d taken on before.
I reached out and put my fingers to the wrist of the man sprawled on the ground.
There was a pulse. He was still alive. But he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
So this is a mercenary... yeah, he really is different.
If the others were at this level, restraining them barehanded was going to be difficult.
That didn’t mean I could shoot them, so I’d have to use another method.
Good thing I brought some coins.
The instant I slipped a hand into my inner pocket and heard the faint jingle of metal, a sharp sound rang out in the distance.
BANG!
A gunshot.
And not a suppressed one—the raw crack of a live round.
That’s the pier.
I felt like I might die, but there was no time to rest.
I slowly pushed myself to my feet.
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