A Reward Without Regret
DongYang Department Store. Amid the endless procession of body bags being hauled down the emergency stairs, President Han Si-rin sighed and headed toward the back of her office.
Her hand caressed the DongYang Department Store logo before pressing firmly on the yang character. With a weak push, it clicked with a jolt—clunk—and the wall began to rotate with a low rumble—rrrrr.
As the wall swung open, a cramped space cluttered with tangled communication lines came into view. Han Si-rin yanked out the small apricot-colored earbud from her ear and tossed it aside.
"What the hell is this? You said if I followed your lead, there wouldn't be any problems! It's all fucked now!"
President Han Si-yeon, headset dangling from one ear, just gave a wry smile without a word. She'd claimed that if Han Si-rin just parroted her real-time instructions, they could convince Min Cheol-woo. Yeah, right. Convince my ass—Min Cheol-woo had been bored and indifferent the whole damn time.
"Didn't work out. I figured he'd flip at the offer to get him out of Korea. Does he have another route besides us?"
"As if. Of course not. But we're acting all shady, hiding stuff, so he sniffed something off and bolted!"
It was an offer, sure, but they'd left out all the important details. "Go to Hong Kong and do one job"—without spilling what the current Hong Kong situation was or what that job entailed. Basically, they'd told him jack shit. Sis should've fed her the details on Hong Kong and the job through the earbud, but she'd slacked off, so all Han Si-rin could do was vaguely mutter that security was kinda iffy. Best she could manage.
"What the hell is it? You gotta explain the situation for me to make the offer or not. What am I supposed to do?"
"Tell you, and you die. It's classified—no leaks."
"I know that. You think I'm an idiot? Spill company secrets to an outsider? If you'd tipped me off, I could've skimmed the sensitive bits and fudged it vaguely. But with zero info, what the fuck am I supposed to say? And straight-up lying? If that blows up later, we're screwed."
Knowing nothing meant she couldn't even bullshit convincingly to reel in Min Cheol-woo. If it were some random chump, she could've fed him sweet lies and hooked him easy. But not this guy. GoldMyeong Group was struggling against him, and if the lies came out later and he turned on Oriental as an enemy, could they handle that fallout? No way—considering the backlash, sweet-talking him was off the table.
"This secret? Same rules for you—no leaks."
"What? What the hell does that mean?"
"Moment you hear about Hong Kong, it's either you come with to Hong Kong or you die. Pick one."
"..."
Han Si-rin's face went blank. Hong Kong's internal situation had been top secret since the lockdown, but she'd assumed a company president like her had access. Nope. Turns out, even Han Si-yeon wasn't supposed to know.
"That building I acquired? Think HQ didn't know it was GoldMyeong Group's and ordered me to buy it anyway?"
"They ordered you to off yourself."
"Right. Spot on. So why off a president who was running the shipping line fine?"
"..."
"She learned shit she wasn't supposed to. Right before I hit the highway out of Seoul, HQ dropped the order: Shut up and die at GoldMyeong's hands, or go to Hong Kong and rack up results. Pick one. So I turned the car around and came here."
Ah—fuck—shit— Han Si-rin clutched the back of her neck. She'd figured sis must've done something to get dumped, but nope—just snagged one forbidden secret. Hearing about Hong Kong would put her in the same boat? All her lingering questions about the incident vanished in a flash. Better to live ignorant than face that death-or-Hong-Kong ultimatum.
"Then why not negotiate yourself? Why push me out front?"
"Hey, three days ago we were shooting at each other. You think with his temper, he wouldn't plug me if I showed up? You brokering kept him in check. This flop? No biggie. He knows now we have a way to get him out of Korea. As the noose tightens, no matter how good a shot he is, he can't hold out forever. Ammo runs dry, he's done. Then, suspicious or not, he'll come crawling to us."
Made sense on reflection. No need to rush or spill info to convince him. Time was on their side—he'd slink to Hong Kong eventually. Fine. Great. Send both him and sis to Hong Kong, never see 'em again? Win. They succeed and return? Free buildings. Zero risk, pure upside.
Thirteen guards dead? Pfft—pocket change. Han Si-rin smirked inwardly as her little sis cackled softly.
"Switch to the screens."
Hearing the radio, her little sis fired up the terminal. The external CCTV showed black vehicles pulling up, disgorging a swarm of men in black suits. In seconds, suits blanketed the front entrance, back door, and parking lot access. What the fuck were they doing? The suits checked every customer exiting the store, forcibly stopping anyone whose face was hard to see for a clear look.
Finally, a sleek sedan halted, and a woman in sunglasses stepped out—Han Si-rin's breath caught. Yu Sil-jang, flanked by rifle-toting staff, strode boldly through the front entrance.
"Fuck! Hide again! Get in!"
Her little sis frantically triggered the fire alarm, shoving her sis into the secret room. Shit was hitting the fan hard. With every exit sealed, they knew Han Si-yeon was here and were storming in. Secret room or not, they'd smash everything to confirm. How the hell to handle this? The office hideout wouldn't stay hidden long.
"Fuck, seriously...!"
Her little sis whimpered, snatching her phone.
"Hoo... Ah... Hiss, kuh-haa..."
Company hospital, private room. Park I-sa, barely squeezed into his suit alone, bubbled and frothed like he was boiling alive.
A few broken ribs? Four, was it? Without the vest, he'd be shredded rags right now. Team 1's sniper cover had chased off Min Cheol-woo, or he'd be dead.
"Hey, that Team 1 sniper. What's his name?"
"Uh... I'll check."
"Find out, and tell him to transfer to Team 2. With my card."
"Yes, Director."
No one in Team 1 was clueless about Yu Sil-jang gunning for him, yet she'd saved his ass anyway. Green light for Team 2? Transfers welcome anytime.
"Hoo. Pull staff from Teams 2 and 3 for a task force. Around 30 strong. Objective: capture Min Cheol-woo alive. Alive."
Park I-sa sighed heavily. Too many losses already—men and face. To recover, killing him was out; had to flip him.
"I'll compile a list of top performers and submit in 30."
"No. Pick desperate ones over skilled."
"Got it."
Skill mattered only if not trash. Guys dying to join his line, ones he could grip with dirt—loyal and tight-lipped. His secretary nodded and left.
Park I-sa hadn't felt Team 2's leaks before. But now leaks to Oriental and the Agency fucked everything; even President Kim chewed him out. Why poke Team 1 when they'd handle it? Lost the Oriental Shipping prez, Agency swarming HQ—an hour of grandpa yelling.
A bit late, but time for a leak-proof direct unit. That's why Yu Sil-jang keeps Team 1 so closed off. Felt it now. Past leaks? Fine. But if even the doc's intel spilled, catastrophe. Bringing it to him instead of her? Smart guy. Not just a good doc—too good for hospital rot. Anyway, seize this chance, lock down security.
"Director. Team 1 sniper wants in."
"Slot him in the task force. He joins the op. Once roster's set, gear up and send to Future Hotel—no waiting. Across from DongYang Department Store."
"Yes, sir. You commanding personally?"
"Damn right. What choice?"
Can't you see me stuffed in this suit? Park I-sa glared irritably. No other way to fix this—lead the task force himself and nab Min Cheol-woo.
Lean roster shrank numbers, but intel-wise, he still crushed Team 1.
"Lee Team Leader as squad lead?"
"Perfect. Yeah, him."
Park I-sa nodded vigorously. Lee Team Leader, that faithful dog. Cover mom's hospital bills, he'd wag and obey till death. Others loyal to money; Lee to the hand that paid. Safe.
"What the—"
Park I-sa grabbed his beeping phone, firing up the tracker app. Alert for over 1km from last ping. Future Hotel dot had jumped to a distant road. Where the fuck was this guy going? Then he spotted the familiar building and froze.
Team 1 office.
"Fuck. Patch me to Team 1 office. Now."
"Team 1 office, sir?"
"Yes! Hurry!"
"Nothing you like? Ankle monitor?"
"You nuts? I'm a sex offender now?"
"This ring's pretty."
"You wear it. What, I'd jam a king-sized marble on my finger?"
"Choker style too."
"This one's... kinda nice."
Yuri checked the mirror, slipping on the tracker-chip choker. Cheol-woo's haul was all dog-shit gadgets, but this? Decent. Only one that passed as fashion.
"Suits you."
"You just thought 'dog collar,' huh?"
"N-no."
"Asshole."
Irritating as hell, but ditching it wasn't an option. This time, DongYang let them pass peacefully—no hostility from Cheol-woo. Next time? No guarantee. Chase her down with endless calls? Tracker was safer.
"So we're ghosting their offer completely?"
"Yeah. Too cocky. Treating us like free labor."
"Agreed."
Cheol-woo hadn't ignored allying with Oriental from the start. Enemy of GoldMyeong—maybe some help? But their bare-minimum bullshit? Not worth talking.
Better punch through Jeong Gwa-jang's side. Best defense is a good offense, right? If so, ports and airports locked. Bust the blockade needed a big swing.
Then Yuri's phone rang sharply—rrrring. Newly saved number: Han Si-rin.
Cheol-woo answered.
"What?"
Calm tone, but her voice trembled faintly. Chase off Yu Sil-jang? Have them attack her crew with guns? Her direct unit dwarfed Jeong Gwa-jang's Team 1—no sane reason to poke that hornet's nest.
Tough break—safe travels—he nearly hung up, but paused.
Ah. There was one way.