A Good Deal (1)
"Huuu... haa... huu... haaak..."
"..."
Yuri watched Cheol-woo breathe in ragged, irregular gasps, then let out a sigh and drew the curtain shut.
She'd done everything she could. The surgery was over, the bleeding stopped, the wound stitched up. Whether the bleeding had truly stopped or just slowed because he was dying, she couldn't tell—but that was how it was. Now all she could do was hook up the blood pack and IV and pray he woke up.
Yuri's hands were trembling.
"Ha..."
The image of her hands still caked in blood was vivid in her mind. The scene of prying open the hole in her brother's gut with chopsticks instead of clamps was crystal clear. Blood gushing out in endless spurts, Cheol-woo groaning like he was on death's door... It had been a nightmare.
Her eyes welled up red. The thought that her brother might never wake up made her chest tighten unbearably. Just then, her head snapped to the side.
"Who the hell are you? A doctor?"
"Not a doctor... more like a nurse..."
Until three years ago... Mi-young mumbled, her voice trailing off like she wanted to crawl into a hole.
Mi-young felt like she was choking. That woman's eyes were already hunting for someone to blame if the guy died. Lovers? Had to be. The venom in her gaze was terrifying. And whether it was habit or not, she kept sliding her knife in and out—shring, shring—nonstop, sending chills down Mi-young's spine. If he didn't wake up, she'd probably slit her throat on the spot.
"A nurse performed the surgery? Do you even know human anatomy?"
"W-when I was in North Korea, I served as a nurse officer. I've pulled bullets from the right abdomen a few times, so... roughly..."
Mi-young added in a tiny voice: I don't know much about other areas—people shot there usually get hauled in, but shots elsewhere go straight to the morgue.
"Roughly? Roughly?"
"I-I did my absolute best. With the shitty equipment and conditions, stopping the bleeding is a miracle, isn't it?"
"Cut the bullshit. You bitch. If he dies, you're done. You have to save him somehow."
"No, it's not bullshit. No. Ah..."
Mi-young felt insanely wronged. Did she want to do that hack-job surgery? The psycho forced her! She wasn't even a doctor—just a short stint as a nurse in China before three years slinging drinks at a counter in Korea. And yet the woman was relentless. When she'd first heard "extract that thin capsule five centimeters inside the abdomen," she'd nearly fainted. Reopening a gut that had already been shot, dug out, and sewn up? That was insane from the start. They say hitting the same spot twice hurts the most. Even in a top facility with a genius surgeon, survival wasn't guaranteed. It all depended on the patient's own recovery power.
"It was a tough surgery, so... probably..."
"Hey!"
So, could he pull through? Mmm... Mi-young was skeptical. If he recovered from this, he'd be less human, more monster. Promising he'd definitely live was easy. The fallout was the problem. With that knife-sliding bitch, would it end nicely? She had to choose words she could live with, even if it twisted her mouth.
"Promise you'll save him!"
"I'll do my best..."
"You bitch."
Tears brimming, Yuri grabbed Mi-young by the collar. Mi-young, collared and all, just felt numb. Why the fuck are you taking it out on me? Shouldn't they have just skipped the surgery altogether? Why the hell did he run off and carve open his own gut like he was splashing around in the River Styx?
These idiots can't think straight.
These two—she recognized them now. They'd blown up Seoul lately and still hadn't been caught. Proof of their skills right there. So why run when they could waltz back to GeumMyeong Group and get treated like kings? Mi-young couldn't wrap her head around it.
"I swear, ha... If Cheol-woo dies... Ah..."
Yuri's vision blurred with despair. Helping with the surgery had blanked her mind to pure white—no thoughts, just following orders. Now that it was done, her head spun with chaos, driving her mad. What if Cheol-woo died like this? She'd trusted only him to get this far—what the hell was she supposed to do? Her breathing grew ragged, hands shaking violently. Tears were about to spill down her cheeks in streams.
"What are you two doing? Let's go."
"...?"
Shwa— The curtain flew open, and Cheol-woo stepped out clutching his gut.
Was this guy on his last legs squeezing out one final bluff? No—his color was way too healthy. Peeking behind the curtain, the blood pack and IV were still more than half full. What the hell? Was that even human? Mi-young was dumbfounded.
"Why the eyes?"
"Wiping off smeared makeup."
What? Hadn't that woman been bawling her eyes out moments ago? Now she wiped them clean, expressionless, and casually fell in step beside him like nothing happened.
"How long was I out?"
"About an hour. Aftercare's done, so don't worry."
"Let's bounce first. Lingering's bad."
Cheol-woo hurriedly packed. He'd removed all trackers, but it was way too early to relax. He'd thought Team 2 and Team 1 were barely communicating, basically split—but Park I-sa had phoned Jeong Gwa-jang to warn him, so not quite. The Western Mainline shootout was in a quiet spot they could cover up, but downtown this time? No news articles anywhere. Instead, the internet and SNS were buzzing about some movie prop in Dura-Han makeup wandering around.
"What now for you?"
"I-I... want to go back to the president..."
"Do what you want. I'll drop you."
"But the president might not like it..."
"Why's that?"
"We parted on bad terms at the end..."
After hearing Mi-young's whole lament, Cheol-woo nearly spat out this crazy bitch but swallowed it.
So Han Si-yeon fed berserker drugs to her staff, used them as meat shields, and bailed alone? And one of those staff was alive here? Yeah, he'd be awkward seeing her face too.
Why the hell go back?
Per Jeong Gwa-jang, Oriental Shipping had lost all influence in Korea's black market. And with Yu Sil-jang trashing DongYang Department Store, Han Si-yeon was clearly cut loose and on the run. Desperately heading to Hong Kong to salvage it, probably. So wasn't she totally screwed? Why go back to that woman? Bizarre choice, but Cheol-woo didn't pry. Probably gaslit or something. No energy or reason to convince a crazy person.
"Back in the carrier, then."
"Pardon? Huh? Eek?"
Cheol-woo couldn't risk Han Si-yeon rejecting and returning her. Had to strong-arm the sale somehow.
***
DongYang Department Store president's office.
Han Si-yeon sat calmly sipping her tea—slurp—while Han Si-rin paced restlessly.
"Sit down. You're making me anxious."
"You're the one who nearly fucked us all, and you think my nerves are the issue? Be straight: any more trouble coming my way? Yes or no?"
"No. All my Seoul branch staff are dead."
"For real? No sudden survivors popping up?"
"For real."
Han Si-rin shuddered every time she recalled Yu Sil-jang's eyes. How could a person be that scary? Different breed from Min Cheol-woo. He sniped quietly in empty spots, but Yu Sil-jang showed up in a crowded store with a massive rifle? Disaster waiting to happen—nearly shut down the department store.
Anything that could give Yu Sil-jang leverage? Hard pass. She just wanted to dump anything sister-related in Hong Kong ASAP.
Here it was. Here here here. The savior to haul this headache to Hong Kong. Color bloomed on Han Si-rin's face.
"Headcount. How many?"
"Escort them inside and connect the call."
Familiar faces soon filled the laptop screen. They'd been shooting up Gangnam just hours ago, now hit again. Korea was getting too hot, so the Hong Kong offer must look sweet. Heh heh, welcome— Han Si-rin suppressed a blooming grin.
"Nice to see you both. Yu Sil-jang has it out for us, so it's risky outside—video call okay?"
"Thanks to you, we dodged a bullet. Looks like GeumMyeong Security's office is chaos—did you...?"
These psychos—Han Si-yeon's and Si-rin's mouths slowly gaped. Ambushed while fleeing, and they counter-raided to kill Jeong Gwa-jang? Of all people? Chills ran down their spines. No wonder Yu Sil-jang flipped and charged out.
"Ahem. Thanks. Oh, right—we promised compensation. How about 300 million won each?"
"Sure. We can settle in other ways besides cash."
Heh heh— A faint smile tugged at Han Si-rin's lips. Only one topic before haggling pay: Hong Kong details, leverage from saving her from Yu Sil-jang, renegotiate terms. 300 million in changes? Maybe unlock overseas arms routes. They seemed loaded with gear in the truck, but guns were consumables—parts and ammo always needed.
"Yes. Han Si-yeon, president of Oriental Shipping."
"Pardon? When did we..."
"..."
She owed him her life twice? Han Si-rin gawked at Han Si-yeon, who forced a relaxed smile.
"...It's politically dicey, yeah. But you're desperate too, no? Thought blasting guns and bombs would scare them off, but they're hounding harder. How's that noose tightening feel, day by day?"
"Know this? Kim Sa-jang first had eyes on you. Nominal GeumMyeong Security president now, but one of the founders of GeumMyeong Group. Pissed off someone like that? Now you get it. This is child's play. Kim Sa-jang will churn through every GeumMyeong Security employee, burn Seoul to ash to capture you alive. Hell, if the company folds, he'll start a new one to hunt you. Give up on Korea like me. Head to Hong Kong with me for a short gig. Pay separate after. Negotiate daily rate on the way... Anything else bugging you? Ask away."
Yes—good—keep going— Han Si-rin cheered inwardly. She couldn't lie herself, so held back from "ask anything." But sis handling it meant sis ate the fallout. Hong Kong's safe—then sis gets pulped by enraged Min Cheol-woo? Not her problem.
"A deal?"
"...?"
Riiip— On screen, Cheol-woo unzipped the carrier, flipped it belly-up, and opened it. Inside: a woman gagged, blindfolded, limbs bound. Han Si-yeon, peering closely with a turtleneck hunch, widened her eyes.
Wasn't that the counter girl? Didn't give a shit if she lived or died—what the hell to trade for her? Han Si-yeon let out a baffled ha—.
Cheol-woo dangled a bag of blue drug close to the laptop cam and shook it.
"What's th—"
"S-still—"
"..."
Han Si-yeon's face soured.
"...How do you want to adjust?"
"..."
Bad math. Trade a disposable counter drone for top-secret Oriental HQ files? No "must go to Hong Kong after" clause. Hear it first, decide later. Terms could worsen anytime. Problem: they knew she couldn't go without them. Cheol-woo had shaken pursuit, could last weeks or months. She needed out yesterday.
"You sure? My mess is all because of that intel. Leak caught, HQ sends assassins for us both."
This guy's a total psycho? Branded by GeumMyeong Group, not scared of Oriental too? Useless counter girl for intel that could cost her head. Absurd, but no choice.
"Fine. Deal."
Han Si-yeon squeezed her eyes shut and agreed. Somewhere, teeth ground—crunch.