Tying Up Loose Ends
When I opened my eyes, it was daytime.
I had no idea how long I’d slept.
The last thing I remembered was arriving at the safe house, getting patched up as best I could, and then collapsing on the spot.
The light slanting through the crack in the window told me it had to be afternoon by now.
“Ghh…”
As always, every part of me hurt.
Especially the side where I’d been cut by the knife, and the forearm the Russian bastard had smashed.
Seeing my own body in such a wreck made a dry laugh escape me.
“A few more business trips like this and I won’t have a single limb left in one piece.”
There was a faint noise outside the window.
Cantonese voices drifting up from the alley below, the low hum of an outdoor air-conditioning unit.
It was peaceful, as if nothing at all had happened overnight.
My head still foggy, I pushed myself up, and Marcus came out from the kitchen.
He was limping, and in his hand was a pot.
“You’re awake.”
His voice was as flat as ever.
For a man with broken ribs, he was getting around surprisingly well.
I’d told him to stay still until we could get him to a hospital, but he’d stubbornly been pacing around anyway.
“You weren’t moving, so I thought you were dead.”
With that, Marcus ladled porridge into a bowl and set it in front of me.
I stared at the steaming bowl for a moment, then took a spoonful.
It was just rice porridge, but it was good.
“...That’s unexpected.”
“What is?”
“This. It tastes good.”
Marcus shrugged.
“I make it for myself a lot.”
That was the end of our chat.
I didn’t bother saying anything else and just ate in silence.
The events of the previous day flashed briefly through my mind, but I forced myself not to dwell on them.
I’m alive. That’s what matters.
While eating, I asked him casually, “Now that we’ve found the goods, that’s the end of it, right?”
Marcus set down his coffee cup. “Hm. There is one thing left.”
A short silence.
Then he added in the same flat tone, “The money bag. Ours.”
That jogged my memory.
The big duffel bag Marcus had been carrying when we first went to the exchange.
Come to think of it, the guys who raided the scene had taken it.
Marcus pulled out a slip of paper.
At a glance, it looked like an address somewhere on Kowloon Peninsula.
“I got it from Luo Qing. One of the mercenaries ran off with the money. He’s still on Kowloon Peninsula, hiding out for now. In a few days, he’ll be completely out of Hong Kong.”
Marcus gave me a sidelong look.
“So? Interested?”
The way he said it sounded a little strange.
“Interested?” I repeated.
Marcus’s mouth curved slightly.
I’d never seen that expression on him before.
“The headquarters have already written that money off as gone. And originally, it would’ve gone to Luo Qing. If that idiot mercenary hadn’t gotten greedy and broken his promise to him, that is.”
It turned out the mercenary had been a hacker who passed Luo Qing information on the goods and his comrades.
In exchange, he’d been promised MSS protection and a cut of the money in the duffel bag. That was all in the past tense now.
Marcus took a sip of coffee and continued.
“Thanks to that, Luo Qing handed it over to us. We find it, half goes to Luo Qing, and the other half goes to us. So? More interested now?”
That was unexpected.
I hadn’t thought Marcus would make an offer like that.
No, maybe only a veteran of his caliber could.
“...How much are we talking about?”
I asked before I could stop myself.
Can this even be okay? Won’t this cause problems later?
My head was already tangled with those thoughts when Marcus bared his teeth in a grin and answered.
“Five million dollars.”
“......”
My spoon stopped midair.
I looked at him with a somewhat stupid expression and said, “I’m in.”
***
An alley on Kowloon Peninsula.
Just two blocks off the tourist street, Hong Kong suddenly felt narrow and cramped.
Old buildings leaned against one another, and between them hung laundry lines like spiderwebs.
There were weathered shops and peeling signboards. Even in broad daylight, the alley looked dim.
I walked down it with my hat pulled low.
Somewhere ahead came the savory smell of something frying.
Every step sent aches through my body, but it was bearable.
He said he was a hacker.
Luo Qing had said he probably wasn’t much of a fighter.
Well, even if he could fight, he wouldn’t be on the level of the other two.
“...This is the place.”
The building Marcus had pointed me to stood at the far end of the alley.
A three-story structure with rusted outdoor AC units bolted to each floor.
The entrance was barely worthy of being called a lobby.
An old man was dozing at the front desk beside the stairs.
Just as I was about to go in—
Thud thud.
Movement came from the alley beside it. Quick footsteps.
A small man was hurrying into a back lane, clutching a large duffel bag to his chest.
There he is.
He kept darting glances around like a man on the run.
He looked suspicious as hell from every angle.
“......!”
Maybe he saw me, because he suddenly picked up speed.
I hurried after him as he slipped into a narrow side lane.
It was hard to run in such tight quarters.
I dodged a trash can and squeezed past an old woman crouched down and trimming vegetables.
The man used his small frame to dart through the cramped gaps with impressive agility.
He was quick. Clearly used to running.
“You little bastard.”
But that was all.
At the bend in the alley, I grabbed the back of his neck.
“Agh!”
A short yelp.
I yanked him straight up and shoved him against the wall.
He thrashed wildly, but there was no strength in it at all.
I chopped down sharply with the edge of my hand at the point where the base of the skull met the nape of the neck.
Whack.
He went down without any drama.
His eyes rolled once, and then the strength drained out of him all at once.
I caught him with one hand as he slid against the wall and laid him flat on the ground.
Don’t kill him.
Remembering Luo Qing’s warning through Marcus, I pressed two fingers to his neck.
There was a pulse. He’d just been knocked out.
He wouldn’t be getting up for a while, but he’d live.
“Sleep well.”
I picked up the duffel bag lying on the ground.
It was heavy. Way heavier than I’d expected.
I unzipped it a little.
Ziiip—
Bundled dollars came into view first. Hundred-dollar bills.
Mixed in between were stacks of euros. Five-hundred-euro notes.
What mattered was that the bag was packed full of those bundles.
“Wow…”
Seeing that much money left me dazed.
It looked like something straight out of a movie.
I pulled out one bundle and weighed it in my hand.
One hundred hundred-dollar bills. The weight sat heavily in my palm.
The sharp scent of fresh ink rose from the notes.
Would I ever, in my whole life, hold this much money in my hands again?
For one brief moment, a stray thought flickered through my head.
Ha. What if I just run off with it? Or maybe pocket a little on the side?
I considered it for a moment, then shook my head.
It had originally been CIA operating money, and now it was money Luo Qing had already marked with his saliva.
I didn’t feel like thinking about the trouble that would follow if I got greedy.
“Oof.”
I zipped it up quickly and slung the duffel bag over my shoulder.
It had to weigh at least twenty kilos. So this was what money felt like when it was heavy.
I left the mercenary lying in the alley.
He’d figure out how to run once he woke up.
He’d be broke, but still.
***
The place Marcus and I headed to was a noodle shop in Sham Shui Po.
The same place where I’d first met Luo Qing. It was just as narrow and run-down as before.
The smell of oil and broth drifted between steaming bowls of noodles.
Luo Qing was already there, sitting at a table in the back.
Just like last time, he had a thermos and a bowl of noodles in front of him, wearing a polo shirt with a stretched-out collar.
He looked like some neighborhood uncle who’d come out for lunch.
“Ah Cheng, you’re looking a little better today.”
Luo Qing raised a hand in greeting when he saw Marcus.
Marcus set the duffel bag down beside the table and sat across from him.
“Thanks to you, things worked out nicely.”
“Heh, glad to hear it.”
Luo Qing slurped up a mouthful of noodles and glanced at the bag.
He didn’t even open it. He just nodded toward the man sitting beside him.
At once, the man took the bag and stood up.
Just like that, twenty-five million dollars vanished.
“Hm…”
Luo Qing sipped his oolong tea and looked at me closely.
This time, though, he felt a little more measured, a little more appraising than when we’d first met.
After a moment, he spoke to me in fluent English.
“You’re more frightening than I expected.”
He meant the events from dawn, I supposed.
I looked at him for a moment, then answered in halting Mandarin.
“Good rain knows its season; when spring comes, it falls just right and brings the shoots to life.”
The sudden quote made Marcus look at me with a strange expression.
Then Luo Qing on the other side let out a snort, followed by a burst of laughter.
“You’re an interesting one. Hahaha.”
I just shrugged without answering.
Luo Qing nodded, clearly pleased.
“Du Fu, was it? I like that. Good, good.”
Then he looked at Marcus.
“Ah Cheng, where did you find a friend like this?”
Marcus replied flatly, “I’m not entirely sure either. I just… got lucky.”
“Lucky, huh.”
Luo Qing nodded and twisted the lid off his thermos.
“I can’t tell whether you’re lucky or cursed.”
He took a sip of tea and asked lightly, “There was quite a ruckus at dawn yesterday.”
“I do apologize for that.”
“What good is an apology when the police are needed, my friend?”
Luo Qing laughed softly, though his eyes certainly weren’t laughing.
Then, in a calm voice, he said, “I’ve taken care of the Yee Hing Tong side. Now that Lau Chi-sing is dead, they’ll be quiet for a while too. In that sense, you two should keep your heads down for a bit. It might be a good idea to leave for a while.”
Marcus nodded.
“He’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Wise.”
Luo Qing got to his feet and patted my shoulder lightly.
That warm, genial smile was still on his face.
“Young man, I’ll see you again. I’ll remember your face.”
Then he picked up his thermos and left the noodle shop.
Luo Qing disappeared naturally into the crowd of Sham Shui Po.
I stood there for a while, watching his back.
“...What a strange man.”
His share alone had been twenty-five million dollars.
He’d taken it as casually as if he were just stepping in for a bowl of noodles, without even bothering to open the bag.
Marcus picked up his chopsticks and said, “Don’t think it’s a shame, and don’t think it’s strange. This is just how things work in this world.”
He didn’t explain further. I didn’t ask any more questions.
I didn’t really have anything to argue with anyway. That was, in fact, how it worked.
Marcus nudged a small bag from under the table toward me with his foot.
It was the portion he’d set aside from the duffel bag earlier.
“Half of twenty-five million. Twelve and a half million dollars. Your cut.”
Twelve and a half million dollars. Nearly 1.8 billion won.
It was so much money that it didn’t feel real. It was like I’d won the lottery.
I’m seriously rich now.
For a moment, the thought struck me that this might actually not be such a bad line of work.
Wow. If I did this a few more times, I could coast through life forever.
Marcus set down his cup and added, “You might feel a little dirty about it, but keep it first. You’ll definitely need it someday. I guarantee it.”
I grabbed the bag at once.
Of course I had no reason not to take it. It was 1.8 billion won.
“Oh, and if you want, I can put it into a shell company account in Singapore. It won’t be under your name, so there’s no risk of it being traced, and you can withdraw it whenever you want. Clean and simple.”
Shell company. It was a term that had never seemed like it would have anything to do with me.
When I stayed quiet and just stared at the bag, Marcus’s eyebrows twitched.
“I have to ask, just in case—you weren’t stupid enough to think of carrying that onto a plane as is, were you?”
He was right, but I decided to play dumb.
I shook my head quickly and answered, “Of course not. Please take care of it.”
At my answer, Marcus nodded and stood up.
His expression as he looked at me felt a little different from usual.
There was a hint of mischief in it, something oddly cheerful.
“Good. Then let’s go.”
“Go where?”
At my question, Marcus replied, “You said we’d have a farewell dinner.”
***
The restaurant Marcus took me to had a tiny sign and an even tinier entrance.
It was a place with only five tables, run by a single kitchen auntie.
When she saw Marcus, she greeted him with a few words in Cantonese.
Marcus answered briefly. He seemed to be a regular.
The menu was, of course, all in Chinese characters.
Marcus ordered everything himself.
I didn’t even ask what he’d picked.
I didn’t need to.
“Trust me. This is the best restaurant in Hong Kong.”
The food came out soon enough.
And sure enough, as Marcus had boasted, it was delicious.
It wasn’t the kind of Hong Kong food tourists came looking for.
It was just what people who actually lived here ate every day.
Fried rice with a sheen of oil, soup with bones still in it, stir-fried vegetables I couldn’t even identify.
Drip—
He poured Shaoxing wine into a small glass.
Seeing the dark amber color, I figured it was a decent bottle.
“......”
As always, it was a farewell dinner with very little talking.
Halfway through the meal, Marcus set down his glass and asked, “Hey, Lee. You said you do this because the conditions are good, right?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Looking a little more relaxed than usual, he nodded.
Then, in a tone unlike his usual one, he gave me some advice.
“I still don’t know exactly what you do, but there’s one thing I do know. You’re a rookie who hasn’t been in this game very long. That’s why I’m saying this. If you want to survive here, there are two things you need to remember no matter what.”
I paused with my chopsticks in the air.
“When you do this work, always leave your emotions outside. If you don’t, they’ll definitely drag you down.”
He wasn’t wrong.
In fact, because I agreed with him, I stayed silent for a moment.
“And always keep your guard up around people. You have to draw the line first with everyone. Remember that.”
At that, I couldn’t help but snort.
This old guy was saying all this when he wasn’t exactly following a single word of it himself.
“...Let’s keep seeing each other.”
I didn’t bother answering.
Marcus didn’t say anything more either.
Instead, we just raised our glasses. That was enough conversation for the night.
Cheers.
The glasses met once more.
The sweet aroma of Shaoxing wine slid down my throat.
The hot, damp night air of Sheung Wan slowly seeped into the restaurant.
“Ah, right…”
As the meal was winding down, Marcus seemed to remember something and pulled out his phone.
Then he opened something and slid the phone over to me.
“Let’s stay in touch after you go back. You use SNS, right? DM me.”
It was an Instagram account. He had quite a few followers.
When I stared at him, stunned, Marcus shrugged.
“It’s the twenty-first century. I know how to use the internet too.”
Then he added, “And don’t send me anything useless by DM. Eyes and ears are everywhere.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t hold it back.
An analog purist who only ever hunted down old street stalls for food, and yet he wanted to keep in touch on Instagram.
What an absolute riot of a man.
“Mind if I look through your photos?”
“Knock yourself out.”
I scrolled through his gallery.
Every single photo was of Hong Kong.
Narrow alleys, old signboards, laundry hanging in windows, fish stalls at the dawn market, old men dozing beside stairways…
Nothing polished, nothing staged—just the everyday life of this city.
Then one photo caught my eye.
The stone steps of Pottinger Street.
It had apparently rained just before, because the streetlamps were blooming across the wet stone.
Just from that one shot, I could feel how he looked at this city.
And more than that, most of the photos were clearly taken with care over a long period of time, with affection.
Twelve years.
That was how long Marcus had stayed in this city.
I thought I could understand, just a little, what that time meant to him.
Drip—
He filled my glass once more.
After a few more drinks, a thought suddenly came to me.
“Oh, right. But is it really okay not to contact Elena?”
At my question, Marcus answered flatly, “I already did.”
“What’d she say?”
Marcus paused for a moment.
Then he shrugged.
“She was surprised.”
He set down his glass and added one more thing.
“Ah, and she was pretty angry, too.”
His gaze shifted to me.
“You handle that.”
I had just brought my glass to my lips when I froze.
“...Me? I wasn’t the only one involved.”
“But I’m staying here. You’re the one going back.”
Marcus gave a slight smirk as he answered.
He looked strangely entertained.
This old man really does love pushing things off on other people.
I drained my glass.
The sweetness of the Shaoxing wine lingered on my tongue for a moment before fading away.
When we stepped outside the restaurant, the night of Sheung Wan spread out before us.
Neon signs poured their light across the ground from both sides of the narrow alley.
Somewhere nearby, radio music drifted through the air, and the familiar smells of oil and flowers mingled together.
Marcus started walking first.
Even with his limp, his pace was fairly brisk.
I followed one step behind him.
Not bad.
It was my last day in Hong Kong.