I'll Kill Them All For You (3)
"Ha. Fucking insane."
Click-clack. Cheol-woo shoved the freshly oiled guns into their cases, swallowing his rage. He'd thought his sister had finally grasped the situation, but no such luck. He'd figured the electric shock had snapped her out of it, but that was just a temporary jolt. Come to think of it, it was ridiculous to expect some ordinary civilian suddenly dragged into this shitshow yesterday to adapt in a single day.
Maybe he should slap a pet collar with a GPS tracker and camera on her from now on. Cheol-woo seriously mulled it over.
Kidnapping? Or did they really just want to make me an offer?
His phone buzzed relentlessly, but Cheol-woo didn't even glance at it. Answering wouldn't change a damn thing. If he picked up and his sister calmly explained it wasn't a kidnapping? He couldn't rule out a knife to her throat forcing her to read from a script, or voice modulation. If he heard sawing sounds and her screams? That'd be all the reason he needed to storm in right that second.
Either way, he'd have to crash the place and see for himself. No point wasting time on the phone and stressing out.
If it really was a kidnapping, the leak had to be inside GeumMyeong Group. With all the explosions he'd set off, it was weirder if rumors hadn't spread. They must've thought a gunslinger fleeing enemy forces would be easy to lure in gently. Futile bullshit. He'd bolted to put down his guns in the first place—what difference did it make if his affiliation switched from Korean to Chinese?
Even if it wasn't a kidnapping, nothing changed much. The ones who'd fucked up first by messing with someone else's sister were in the wrong. He could sweep the place clean until they begged never to touch another man's family again, then hear the offer.
"Fuck if I know."
Thud. Cheol-woo slammed the case shut and shot to his feet. No need to stew alone—just go and shoot until answers came.
"Uh, could you maybe call again...?"
"I've been calling nonstop. No answer."
"Ah..."
Han Si-rin's face drained white.
Oriental Shipping again? That's what she'd said? Right— this bitch had been shooting at us with GeumMyeong Security. Yuri squeezed her eyes shut as realization hit. Technically, it was her sister's company gunning it out with GeumMyeong, while they stuck to raking in department store profits, but who gave a shit about technicalities?
With Han Si-yeon taking the reins, Yuri had no ground to cry foul.
"Whew. Actually, this works out better. He's coming here himself. I wanted to talk anyway."
Han Si-rin fanned her face, cooling off. What? Clear out the customers 'cause he's coming to kill everyone? If Yu Sil-jang had said it, it'd be tense, but from this runaway newbie? Kinda cute. Probably just super close with her brother, Yuri figured.
"Your brother's pretty pissed. How about we swap numbers and part ways for today? Talk later when he's cooled off?"
"No need. Bring him here, clear up the kidnapping misunderstanding, loosen the mood, and chat."
"That's why I'm saying it won't go smoothly."
"Don't rush. Sit. I'm not doing this with bad intentions—it's a real good offer."
Yuri gave a wry smile. This woman clearly didn't know Cheol-woo at all. The guy who lobbed grenades at the slightest tail on a normal street walk—did she think he'd hold back in a department store full of customers? Best move was for Yuri to bolt out before he drew. But this stubborn bitch showed no sign of letting her go.
Not kidnapping, but it sure felt like it now. Yuri could see the shitshow coming, so she just shut her eyes and braced.
"Bolster security on the first floor. I've sent his profile to the terminals—ID him, disarm, and escort to my office."
Han Si-rin casually transmitted Cheol-woo's name and face across the company network. Did all Chinese lack any concept of privacy? Yuri was floored. Korean personal info might be fair game, but swapping it openly in front of her? Absurd.
"..."
"Why's that all? The rest not responding?"
Han Si-rin's hand trembled on the radio, teeth grinding. Had she hired security too sloppily? Ignoring the boss? Anger bubbled, but the eerie silence cooled it. They should've been groveling by now.
"First floor. What's going on?"
"What...?"
Han Si-rin's jaw dropped as she checked her terminal. CCTV showed a guard slumped in the corner, blood dripping from his skull. Others rushed to hide the body from customers. Screens flipped rapidly.
Now jewelry store front. Patrol guard stopped a man in a baseball cap, grabbed his radio.
Crackle. Drop. The guard crumpled from nowhere. Anemia? Stroke? Nothing there, then sudden collapse. Two follow-ups dropped before drawing pistols. Baseball cap stepped casually over bodies.
Crackle— Screen switched. Cap faced CCTV, signaling to watch, then slapped a big wad of brown dough on the wall, jammed in a skewer wired to an old flip phone.
That—that's what I think it is?
Han Si-rin's pupils shook wildly.
Crackle— Screen showed a steel emergency door ripped clean off. Han Si-rin stared blankly, then stumbled up with an "Ah—ah—."
That door led to her office stairwell.
Bang! Rat-tat-tat! Boom! Gunfire and explosions rose from below, drawing near. Her sister's warning resurfaced: Wiped out half of Team 1, made Park I-sa eat shit? No way that's possible...
Impossible, yet happening now. Han Si-rin snatched the radio.
If she didn't want all her staff dead, she had to heed Yuri.
"E-emergency stair guards, all surrender! Drop weapons, hug the wall. No resistance to the climber."
Gunfire stopped. Footsteps thudded closer, then boom! The door blasted open in smoke. It wasn't even locked— Han Si-rin teared up.
Yuri sighed with an I told you so look.
"You Han Si-rin?"
Cheol-woo, who'd sprinted 20 floors, clutched his right side, panting. Guards were half-assed, so he'd shot them guilt-free, but their surrender eased it. The boss bitch was slow but not brain-dead.
Space behind feels off. He scanned the office, sensing discrepancy. Building layout suggested more room; this felt cramped. Hidden space behind that wall? Blast it? He held back for her late cooperation, but stayed alert toward the suspicious wall.
"...Yes. I'm Han Si-rin, president."
"Cheol-woo. I'm fine."
"Yeah. Looks it."
Cheol-woo's cold gaze raked Yuri top to bottom, then glared. Knowing she'd fucked up, she bit her lip, avoiding his eyes. Food that good out here?
She got the look, nearly quipped hell yeah, but clamped shut.
Cheol-woo grabbed a table napkin, wiped blood from his SMG.
"I'm here, so turning back's awkward. Let's hear this good offer."
"Pardon?"
"Good offer. You said."
He sat casually by Yuri. This fucker kills my staff then chats like nothing? Fetching sister separate from business? Zero personal grudge, just sprayed? Han Si-rin deflated. No normal psycho.
Sis'll like him... Staff deaths sucked, but deal not totally fucked. Silver lining?
She cleared her throat, weird sob-groan escaping. Thud— bloody napkin tossed back; she stifled a hiccup, feigned calm.
"There's Oriental Shipping, same HQ as DongYang Department Store. Korean branch president is Han Si-yeon, my sister. She wants to work with you. Might annoy you, but we background-checked a bit. You wanna leave Korea, right?"
"..."
Cheol-woo went silent, face unreadable. Listening? Ignoring? Hands steadily loaded mags: click-click-click.
Han Si-rin pushed on, nerves fraying at the sound.
"Han Si-yeon has a route out. Ship to evade GeumMyeong Group, safe exit. But first to Hong Kong. You know the mess there?"
"..."
News was Hong Kong chaos: Protests clashed with police laced with mainland cops, outrage led to violence, blockade. Seaways, roads cut; undersea cables severed, net down. Post-visit reporters muzzled—no one knew real status.
"Security's shit, fully blockaded. While Han Si-yeon handles business in Hong Kong, just bodyguard duty. Done? Passports and IDs for free entry/exit. Deal?"
"Passports and IDs first?"
"Can't. Guarantee you won't kill her, us, steal the ship?"
"Thanks for the great offer. Pass. Sis, let's go."
"Yeah."
"Ah, wait!?"
Cheol-woo grabbed Yuri's hand, rising; Han Si-rin gaped soundlessly.
To him, she hid piles: Hong Kong real sitch? Si-yeon's task? DongYang-Oriental link? Outright sucker treatment—no point staying.
"ID—IDs first! We can do that—"
"Sorry for the rudeness."
"This...?"
Clunk. Cheol-woo dropped a big remote-like device.
Han Si-rin eyed it fearfully: What? He smirked.
"Detonator. That's five more besides CCTV ones. Disarm carefully."
"...!?"
They vanished down the stairs. Han Si-rin cradled the detonator like treasure to the table, collapsing onto the sofa. Should've listened to sis. Tears welled.