A Good Deal (3)
The next morning at DongYang Department Store.
In the end, there had been no contact from the siblings all night. Now it was about time for the department store to open, so Han Si-rin grabbed her coat and headed out of the president's office. Her sister, Han Si-yeon, who had pulled an all-nighter, looked utterly wrecked as she dozed off in front of her laptop and phone, head nodding.
"Sis. Get some sleep first. I'll wait for their call from now on."
"Got it. Haa..."
Han Si-yeon's hair was a tangled mess. She looked one step away from losing it completely. Leaving her chair, she staggered to the sofa and collapsed onto it, while Han Si-rin took over the seat.
Just in case, Han Si-yeon lying on the sofa pulled a communicator from her pocket but set it back down. "Ah. Fuck."
Incheon Port was still ignoring their calls. Contact with the Hong Kong lab had been completely cut off for nearly a month now. And headquarters... No point even trying; it was obvious they'd have nothing good to say.
The longer the delay, the more dangerous it got. Hong Kong was already totally isolated from the outside world. If those on the outside didn't know what was happening inside, that meant whatever bullshit was going down in there wouldn't reach anyone's ears.
With news of a new resource discovered in Hong Kong, undercover agents and mercenaries had probably swarmed the place. Now that the curtain was down, those bastards were turning into special forces overnight. Disarmament? Bullshit. The whole damn place was crawling with drug addicts, so gunfire was practically default mode. Only the port and a few areas were under Hong Kong government control; the rest was basically lawless anarchy.
If time dragged on like this, wouldn't the uncontrolled zones get gobbled up by Anglo-American and European operatives staking their claims? Or worse, if the lab itself fell into their hands? Then they'd really be fucked.
"Fucking hell. Why's that bastard taking so damn long to decide... Oh! They're calling!"
"They're calling!?"
Han Si-yeon shot up the instant the phone rang.
[Hong Kong. We're going. And the agreed compensation—bump it from 300 million to 500 million.]
"Yes. Do that. No problem."
[Then let's meet to discuss future plans. Dinner together?]
"That's tricky. GeumMyeong's forces are lurking outside the department store right now. The second I step out, I'll be tailed."
[Then we'll link up on your way out.]
Ever since Yu Sil-jang's raid, the department store had been on high alert. And it was the same outside. The area around DongYang Department Store was thick with tension, like a shootout could erupt at any moment.
If they poked their heads out now and shit hit the fan, the whole plan would go up in smoke.
[How about a remote dinner?]
"...Pardon?"
It was a phrase she'd never heard before in her life.
Soon after, word came that Min Cheol-woo and his group had picked up Kim Mi-young from the safehouse and arrived at a restaurant in Majang-dong. Han Si-rin flipped open her laptop, and the screen filled with the view of a private room in the restaurant where they were already grilling meat.
Gulp. Han Si-yeon and Han Si-rin's swallows echoed in unison.
Ah—should we have them send up two portions from the restaurant downstairs?
The sisters' eyes met as the same thought crossed their minds.
"Have you reviewed all the materials?"
[Yeah. Bottom line: mutants, humans, whatever—nothing a 7.62mm round can't sort out. That's all that matters.]
"..."
That's all that matters? Half of Hong Kong's population wiped out, monsters swarming the city center, black ops from every country armed to the teeth—and that's his takeaway?
If he'd gone through all the docs, he'd seen the on-site photos too, right? And yet here he was, chowing down on meat like it was nothing. How ironclad was his stomach?
The Han sisters were dumbfounded.
[By the way, got any decent swords worth using?]
"Swords? You mean something like a longsword?"
[Yeah. Something sturdy, good for long-term use.]
"I'll check when we hit Incheon Port."
[Thanks. And four more servings of sirloin...]
"Ah, yes, yes. Four sirloin... "
Damn, he could eat. Plates piled up on the table like a mountain. Starting with ribs, then foreleg, chuck, tenderloin, sirloin—they were devouring it all. At this rate, they'd order the entire menu.
They ate like they hadn't had a meal in a month. Word was, this was their routine every damn meal. Kim Mi-young sweated bullets beside them, flipping meat nonstop without a break, but they didn't give a shit.
[So, Oriental Group's lab in Hong Kong—no contact, so you need us to go in person and grab the data?]
"Yes. Feel free to call it the recipe. Can't be sure how far the research has progressed since comms went dark, but it's got China's top researchers and equipment. Plenty of samples to work with too, so I'm betting they've cracked the blue drug's molecular structure and synthesis method by now."
[And what're you gonna do with that recipe?]
"Make a deal. China wants to swallow Hong Kong and mass-produce the blue drug for export, but if a synthetic recipe leaks worldwide, that's a problem. So I'll trade it for destroying the recipe with the Chinese authorities."
[Regaining your president position that way, huh.]
"Yes. You could see it like that."
It was a grand plan. But after destroying the recipe, would China really meet all her demands? No leverage left—wouldn't they just ditch her?
Cheol-woo had his doubts, but he decided not to waste time worrying. She was a sly fox. She'd probably stashed copies as backup for emergencies.
"We'll go by sea. Airport's shut down. Port's basically closed too, but I have connections there, so no issue."
[Ship out from Incheon?]
"Yes. Incheon Port's harbor police and customs are on our payroll—"
[Sis, you eat some too. Tenderloin's delicious.]
[You eat your fill. I'm gonna grill all this and order more.]
[Ah. Okay.]
"—on our payroll, so once we're in Incheon waters, we can sail out safe."
Hmm. But GeumMyeong Group had Incheon locked down tight. Just Incheon? Probably Busan, Ulsan, and every podunk port besides. He'd already dropped over 30 of them, and they still had manpower to spare?
Cheol-woo's head spun.
[Jeong Gwa-jang's caught, so bulldoze past checkpoints? With armored vehicles, maybe we could manage.]
"No way. Am I crazy? How would we bulldoze through?"
[...]
They're holding checkpoints and digging in, and she wants to ram through? Han Si-rin was horrified. After smashing Jeong Gwa-jang and Park I-sa, did she see them as total pushovers? Her threat assessment was as broken as a kid's sense of money.
"And if they find out I'm partnering with you, Cheol-woo, my sister staying in Korea gets offed by Yu Sil-jang. We need to slip in quiet and covert. Plan's to take a yacht from Yeouido Marina, exit the Han River, and head to Incheon."
[All the gear fit on a yacht? Roughly under a ton.]
"Hmm... It's just to Incheon, so we charter a big one. You can take all your gear straight to Hong Kong, and I'll make sure it's usable on-site."
[White phosphorus smoke grenades too? Those work?]
"That... let's discuss it together?"
Han Si-rin answered with cold sweat. Fair enough—too flashy. Cheol-woo reconsidered. Blasting around noisily would draw foreign agents' eyes, whether in Korea or Hong Kong. Quiet and covert was key.
[Can you slip past GeumMyeong from Yeouido?]
"Korea's full of rich folks. On a clear day, yachts are out in numbers. We blend in and go. Load gear at dawn under cover of night."
[Hmm...]
The plan sounded solid. But would it really work? Seeing Han Si-rin so confident only made Cheol-woo more uneasy.
When uneasy, fill the belly more.
"Yes. Let's do that. Two more foreleg servings."
"Two more strip loins too."
"Make it four strip loins."
"...?"
Didn't you just order that? Why more? Rounding the menu twice?
Han Si-rin's mind reeled. Mi-young's arm was going numb, sensation fading.
What? A hundred? A hundred twenty...?
Seeing the bill on her phone, the Han sisters' eyes bulged. No booze, and this price? More like, two cows already—and it all fit in those bodies?
The meal was already costing more than the gifted pistol and ammo.
GeumMyeong Security headquarters.
Yu Sil-jang lounged back in her chair, tablet in hand, playing the footage.
Elevator doors open, dummy grenade bounces off the wall and lands right in front of Jeong Gwa-jang. He whooshes away, some stain-like blur bursts out of the elevator.
"Fuck—told 'em to install high-frame cams—" Too low res; it didn't capture shit properly.
"Hah. Monster bastards."
Jeong Gwa-jang crossed ten meters in a second and slipped into the office. Min Cheol-woo chased, guns blazing. Jeong was juiced, fine—but what about Min Cheol-woo? That punk enhanced too? Performance screamed yes, but who'd watched someone mutate from the blue drug up close and still touch the stuff?
Anyway, neither seemed human. Could she keep up sandwiched between them? Hmm... Doubtful. Get within three meters, and she'd be shredded by their gunfire.
"Huh?"
Pause at Min Cheol-woo tossing the grenade. Did I see that right? Rewind, replay. Slow. 0.5 speed.
Eh? Rewind again. 0.25 speed.
"Pulls the pin with his thumb on the grenade hand? Kid!"
"Y-yes?"
"Fetch me a grenade."
"Right away."
Min Cheol-woo gripped his pistol in one hand, aiming at Jeong, and yanked the pin with the thumb of his other—grenade hand. Possible? Yu Sil-jang had a subordinate deliver one, gripped the safety lever tight, wedged her thumb on the pin, and pushed.
Ah? Wouldn't budge. Not finger curl strength—extension power to yank the pin meant grip strength... what? She out-gripped buff dudes easy, and this topped that?
So this is his baseline performance—pre-drug.
Senses, muscle—way beyond human norms. What if he took the blue drug? If he didn't mutate, jackpot.
Her samples: mutators were trash; survivors like Jeong had promise. Innate superhumans tended not to warp. If her theory held, Min Cheol-woo wouldn't mutate either.
Pre-drug like this—what post-drug? Heh heh.
"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh..."
Ah, driving me nuts. Thrilling. Drool.
Yu Sil-jang's lip split in a grotesque grin, weird laugh bursting out.
"What's got you so amused? The doctor's tracker fell off—we've lost him completely."
Kim Sa-jang finally snapped, unable to stand it. He'd hinted to fix her slouchy posture, but no dice.
"Just... doesn't the existence of monsters like him in our line of work excite you? All tingly. Stimulating."
"..."
Not even a little. No thrills or stimulation—Kim Sa-jang preferred smooth, uneventful peace.
Yu Sil-jang bored to death on easy jobs, thrived as crises piled higher. At her level, she'd manufacture crises if none came?
Suspicion brewed.
"And games are long-term plays. Can't make him ours now doesn't mean never. You never know when paths cross again—that's human bonds."
"You little... You could've killed him but let him go on purpose, right?"
"Haha. No way."
Jeong and Park botched fieldwork; post-Min Cheol-woo escape, she hadn't even glimpsed him—why gripe at her? Touchy lately? Menopause? Age fit. Poor guy, thumping his back with a groan—Yu Sil-jang tried to empathize.
"By the way, President."
"What."
"No thoughts on challenging for chairman again?"
"Chairman stays with Myeong Hoe-jang. I focus on smoothing external noise. That's our division—ancient history. Why bring it up now?"
"For real. No interest in screwing over Myeong Hoe-jang at all?"
"..."
Look at this bitch. Finally cracked? She knew Myeong and Kim were ANCB buddies—some lowly manager boldly suggesting this? Joke? But Yu Sil-jang's eyes were dead serious.
Kim Sa-jang chuckled dryly. Her instincts were too damn sharp.