Incheon Port (1)
Kim Sa-jang swept back his balding head and squeezed his eyes shut.
Shot from below? Min Cheol-woo wouldn't have jumped out of a moving car to fire like that. It made more sense that Team 2 had betrayed them.
"Find Yu Sil-jang at the crash site."
"Yes, sir."
"And what's the status at DongYang Department Store?"
"The assault's been halted. They've just laid down a ton of smoke, and both sides are in a standoff."
"Get Park I-sa on the line."
The losses were catastrophic. Things had been going swimmingly until they trashed the Oriental Shipping Seoul branch. How the hell had it come to this? Who could've predicted a single department store would blow up into this mess?
Kim Sa-jang's head throbbed.
Time to cut his losses.
"Kim Sa-jang, you fucking prick. You think I'm the easy mark? Fuck, seriously. Team 1 always shits the bed, and I'm the one cleaning it up?"
Park I-sa spewed curses nonstop as he headed toward the smoke billowing from DongYang Department Store.
Choi Team Leader was dead, Yu Sil-jang had crashed and gone radio silent, so you want me to clean up the department store mess? Was that a fucking order or a fart?
They'd already trashed the place beyond repair—how the hell was he supposed to fix that? If he fucked up the cleanup, it'd all fall on him anyway.
Ever since he'd become an executive, it felt like nothing but thankless responsibility with zero perks.
"Aigoo, you fucking idiots. What the hell is this mist shit?"
He arrived to find the front and back entrances of DongYang Department Store shrouded in smoke. Not a single gunshot echoed; they were just scrambling to tend to the wounded, blood dripping everywhere.
At this point, wasn't it basically a ceasefire?
Half their forces had already been shredded, from what he'd heard. Total clusterfuck.
Park I-sa bellowed at the roughly twenty troops who'd managed to regroup neatly.
"Who's in command right now?"
"I'm handling it temporarily, Director."
"I'm taking over now. Relay my orders."
"...Does Director Yu know about this?"
"You little shits. I'm Yu Sil-jang's boss."
Look at these assholes. He'd dragged his ass here on Kim Sa-jang's orders, and they all looked like they'd eaten shit.
Was this how the company was supposed to run?
"Give me a quick rundown of the situation."
"28 dead, 24 wounded. We'd gathered the rest for a push through the front entrance."
"Well, shit. Losses are half our guys? And you're gonna charge in like that? If you all get wiped, we won't have enough hands to haul the corpses."
"They're nothing special. If we breach now, we can take the store and grab DongYang's president."
Had they lost their minds? Over fifty mangled bodies staggering or dead, and they thought twenty guys could do shit?
"No. I know you suicide-squad types love that crap, but under my command, knock it off."
"This is our chance without Min Cheol-woo! We basically got wrecked by that one guy, so without him, twenty or even ten of us could handle it!"
"How do you know he's gone? You confirm he escaped?"
"Not exactly, but we loosened the perimeter for wounded pickup—and to let him slip out. He's long gone by now."
"You fucking morons. You deliberately eased the encirclement? Are you shitting me? Who the hell authorized that?"
"If we'd kept squeezing, we'd lose both Min Cheol-woo and the department store prez. Gotta catch at least one rabbit, right? Let Min go, nab the prez. They won't call for Team 2 backup if we do. Approve the breach, sir—we'll grab her now."
"Keep dreaming. Think you can take her without Min Cheol-woo? Fat chance. Quit grandstanding and clean up the bodies."
"..."
Not only was assuming Min Cheol-woo was gone a wild guess, but thinking they could breach that fortress without him? Had the whole team popped blue pills or something?
No matter how much they begged to charge in, Park I-sa ignored them.
Yu Sil-jang called the shots when she was around, but with her MIA, he was in charge.
Was he crazy? Feed his men into the grinder on his watch?
Park I-sa was firm; Team 1 seethed in frustration.
"Roadblocks will lift soon. Time to wrap this up."
"Sir! We can still fight!"
"Shut the fuck up! You think I became an exec to bicker with you grunts?"
They handled cleanup and retreat fine on their own—that's why they'd sent him. The assault was toast, so truce up, dust off, and bail.
It pissed him off to handle the humiliating negotiations himself, but the grunts kept yapping about finding Yu Sil-jang and ignoring his orders. His head boiled.
We hit first with a surprise attack, but it's not working, so let's call it even—think that'll fly? No way.
Park I-sa slamming his head wouldn't end it. Might need an exec to take the fall.
And who would that be?
'Me, probably. Fucking Kim Sa-jang.'
Fuck this cushy GeumMyeong Security gig. With the boss leading the internal backstabbing, no end in sight.
How to wrap negotiations without losing his head?
As Park I-sa pondered, an unknown number called.
"...Who is this?"
"..."
She knew he was in command? She had to know about Choi Team Leader's death, but the helicopter crash and him coming to clean up? That meant she knew GeumMyeong Security's internals inside out.
This sly bitch...
"That's right. I'm in overall command."
"Huh..."
Surrender? And her voice sounded so damn confident?
Park I-sa let out a disbelieving chuckle.
She clearly read their desperate scramble to wrap up, yet she was bending first? Unless she was mocking him, this was a green light.
A green light to stroke his ego and save his neck.
Fuck. What a ballsy bitch. Even now, trying to poach an enemy exec—total madwoman.
Accept or not? Park I-sa's mind raced.
Too reckless? Clutching his gut, Min Cheol-woo grimaced and limped across Yeouido Park.
Gurgle-gurgle. Heave-heave. His stomach rumbled, body temperature dropping.
Maybe jumping five stories was overkill. The stitches must've ripped.
"Ah. Tsk. Haa..."
The Marina came into view. The familiar black car idled; gear unloaded from the trunk entered his sight.
Good, not too late.
Spotting him hobbling over, Yuri's face crumpled as she rushed to support him.
"No pursuers?"
"None. Let's go."
"Hop in. Stitches need doing? Mi-young inside can handle it."
"You got staff coming along?"
"Yeah. The one you brought."
"..."
He'd meant it was surprising she'd stick through hell with her boss. Cheol-woo gave up explaining and boarded the large cruiser.
Kim Mi-young fidgeted inside, glancing around nervously.
"Re-stitch me."
"Y-yes? Huh?"
"Threads popped. Sew it back."
"I tied them tight—how'd they rip...?"
What am I supposed to say to that? Cheol-woo silently lifted his shirt.
Blood oozing from his sister's abdomen was never easy to stomach; Yuri whipped her head away. Mi-young stammered before starting the sutures.
Simple procedure—done quick.
Mi-young shot him a pleading 'Please be careful this time?' look, but Cheol-woo ignored it and headed topside.
The Marina was already pulling away.
The chugging engine cut; sails billowed, slicing cleanly through the Han River.
He approached Han Si-rin at the helm.
"Sailing solo?"
"Yeah. Rest below."
"Yachts need crew for lines and sail adjustments, right?"
"Helps, but this big one's got electric winches. All remote. Why, wanna help?"
"Might as well learn. I'll pitch in if you're beat."
"Usually costs for lessons... Stay neutral."
Han Si-rin grinned and handed over the wheel.
She explained basics, parts, functions. Soon Cheol-woo handled the yacht smoothly.
"Right. Tack left around that island? Ease lines. Watch the boom. Trim sails taut, rudder neutral. Good job! Call if tired—I'll swap."
"How long to destination?"
"Incheon New Port... bit over 100 klicks. Eight hours at this speed. Sunset arrival."
Yacht took longer than expected. Could they evade GeumMyeong Group for eight hours? Worrying.
No chopper noise—helicopter crash must've been the last.
Prickling gazes from both riverbanks made his head snap left-right.
Every stare felt like a threat.
"Rest below. You look wiped."
"Yeah. Will do."
"And fetch my staff. No clue, glued to the cabin while I'm steering."
Below, the two women huddled miserably.
He sent Mi-young up, handed Yuri a water bottle.
"Seasick? Better topside watching the horizon."
"Ugh, no. Wind's too harsh on my skin."
"Worrying about skin now? Impressive."
"Yah! Who dragged us here?"
"Take seasick pills and crash. Won't arrive till sunset."
The modest cabin had bunks with pillows and blankets. Yuri clutched her gray sword, burrowing in.
As she closed her eyes, Cheol-woo turned to leave—her hand caught his.
"Cheol-woo-ya..."
"Yeah."
"I thought I'd gotten used to it. Seen tons of bodies, killed some myself. Don't know if it's right, but had to survive. Thought I was adjusting... but I really have."
"..."
"Slicing throats, no thoughts. Just 'who's next?' No thrill from blood or death. Is that okay? It scared me. Know what hit first after gutting that tough bastard at the end?"
"..."
"Thrilling. Lusted after this blade on sight—wielded it, cut better than dreamed."
Yuri had never seen kendo as killing art. Lifetime of bamboo swords made it pure sport. But real steel turned her body into a murder machine.
Bones parted like tofu, armor like paper. Each cut zapped primal joy through her brain.
Adrenaline and dopamine surged; her lips twitched into a grin.
Hence feeling like a psycho killer.
"You... too...?"
Did Cheol-woo feel it? She blurted, heart sinking.
Craving his 'Yeah, thrilling' for comfort? Mistake. Awful question.
Backpedal? She glanced up anxiously—a big hand smashed her head into the pillow.
"Eek."
"Sleep deep."
Eye mask slipped on from somewhere; he released and left.
Page-turning nearby—he hadn't gone far.
Not tired, but Yuri plunged into dreamless sleep amid the rocking cabin.
"We there?"
"Almost. See the big cranes? That's Incheon New Port."
Sunset darkness over Incheon front sea. Past Incheon Port, yacht slowed near New Port.
Wind died; Han Si-rin fired the engine.
"Docking. Toss ropes when I signal those guys."
"Got it."
Three figures emerged to assist.
As the yacht reversed slowly to the berth, Cheol-woo's brow furrowed deeper.
'Those fuckers. Something's off.'
Their presence felt wrong. Allies?