I Quit
"Am I just spinning some ridiculous conspiracy theory?"
Min Cheol-woo rubbed his throbbing temples. Time to lay out the conspiracy theory one more time. GeumMyeong Security teamed up with KM Games from the start, scheming to screw me over. They hired some drugged-up honey trap to stash drugs in my apartment, blowing my contract to hell. Suddenly, I'm drowning in debt and forced to join the company the boss recommended...
"Does that even make sense?"
Looking at it laid out like that, the pieces fit too perfectly—but it still felt forced as hell. Would they go to all that trouble just to recruit me? What was I, some prodigy? Just because I had quick reflexes? Hell, by that logic, GeumMyeong Security could fill a truck with talent they'd manipulated into joining.
Separate from whether it made logical sense, Cheol-woo couldn't shake the doubt gnawing at him. Click-clack—click. He kept racking and releasing the pistol slide, the repetitive motion soothing his frayed nerves.
"Tch. Screw it, I'm done."
Cheol-woo made up his mind and let out a relieved sigh. His sister had nagged him not to do anything that'd prick his conscience, but he'd brushed it off. Dirty work or not, make bank, pay off the debt quick—problem solved. But now? Getting backstabbed into this job changed everything. What guarantee did he have that the bastards who knifed him once wouldn't do it again? He was tangled up now because of debt, but next time it could be something far dirtier chaining him down. He'd heard mobsters hooked people like that—reeled 'em in until they couldn't escape the criminal underworld even if they wanted to.
If he was getting out, better do it now.
"You little shit! You call that a brag-worthy report? You should've been out searching everywhere instead!"
"Yes, sir! I'll deploy the team and hunt her down!"
Jeong Gwa-jang's bellow sent Kim Team Leader scrambling out of the office. Once the door clicked shut slowly behind him, Jeong pulled out his phone and tapped the screen until it rang.
"Director Yu, we lost Han Si-yeon. As of 3 a.m. today, she's completely slipped the net."
A deep sigh crackled through the line from Yu Sil-jang. They'd barged in yesterday only to get counterattacked and flee, and now she'd vanished entirely. It was enough to make him jump out of his skin.
Fine, getting counterattacked? Whatever—the target had responded as a mutant, armed only with pistols. Losing Woo Team Leader and a few staff wasn't surprising. But failing the pursuit? Were the grunts slacking? His own team? Both?
Yu Sil-jang clenched her fist, barely holding back the urge to chew him out.
"I wasn't at the scene."
"The rookie did."
"No. Stuck the pistol right in its eye socket and fired."
Right in the eye socket? Into the eye of a mutant ripping and tearing everything in sight? No way he hit a moving target like that—had to jam the muzzle in close and pull the trigger. And he walked away unscathed after getting that close? Without knowing what a mutant even was, if it was human or not, or its weak point? All that judgment in a split second?
Yu Sil-jang suddenly gasped. The rookie was the real deal. Sure, the world was full of skilled shooters—guys who emptied a revolver in two seconds at competitions, hitting blind. Marksmanship was lousy with monsters. But the guts to hesitate-free gun down a human-shaped thing in a life-or-death pinch? That wasn't common.
"Maybe he didn't expect this kind of job, got spooked, and is freaking out. I'll handle it so he never mentions quitting again."
"The rookie's got a sister. Seems they lost their parents and have been leaning on each other. If debt won't control him, I'll target her."
"..."
The call cut off abruptly. Jeong Gwa-jang squeezed his eyes shut, a chill crawling up his spine.
He exhaled sharply to shake it off and flung the office door open.
"Huh?"
Was the door supposed to feel like that when it opened? It hadn't fully latched before. Meaning... soundproofing wasn't perfect.
"Sir, please accept this. I'd like to resign."
"..."
Panting, Cheol-woo shoved his resignation letter at Jeong Gwa-jang as he jumped up from his seat. Jeong met his clear-eyed stare and clicked his tongue. Did he overhear...?
"Why the resignation, kid? Because of the team members who died? That was a freak incident—no more death risks ahead. Don't worry."
"No, it's not that..."
"Then what? Wanna do honest work you can brag about? Hey, you know what they make you sign first at a big corp? NDA. Even in a brag-worthy mega-company, you can't tell your family shit about your job. Same deal here or there, right?"
"..."
"Think it over. No one else pays you like this."
Laid it out nice and sweet. Get it now? Fuck— the kid's face said no. Looked dead set on quitting.
Definitely overheard.
No choice now. "Sleep on the resignation. Give it to me next week if you still want out. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"And pull some overtime tonight. Help Kim Junior with those docs—short-staffed."
"Huh? I'm fine actu—"
"Nah, you'll be needed. Prep next meeting materials by tomorrow too."
"Got it. Guess overtime it is."
Cheol-woo's eyelid twitched at "overtime." Caught on? So what? Jeong clapped his shoulder and headed out to clock off.
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
Ring, ring—ring, ring—
The endless tone had Cheol-woo pacing like a madman, anxiety spiking. Why'd his sister come up? "Work some angle" on her—what the hell?
His mind raced to the worst. He wanted it to be paranoia, but ignoring the signs now would make him the idiot.
Why overtime tonight of all days?
First day, they said no OT. Never seen other staff pull it. But one order from Jeong, and the whole crew's stuck.
Like someone wanted to pin him here...
Fuck. Why isn't sis picking up?
3 p.m. Other team members gone home. Sister's shoot should be wrapped. But no answer.
Calm down. If they're after her, it'll be tonight. No need to panic yet.
Boss kidnaps sister to hold him hostage? Hope it's all delusion.
Cheol-woo hammered the keyboard aimlessly, plotting escape.
"Grabbing coffee from the cafe. Want some?"
"Nah, delivery. Delivery."
"I'm hungry—gonna grab food, bring yours too."
"Delivery that too. Stay put."
"..."
Kim Junior kept glancing sideways. Cheol-woo shoved his chair back and strode out—Junior blocked him quick.
"Told you, no wandering on duty. I get chewed if you go."
"Got something at home. Be right back. If issues, skip my OT pay."
"Fine, but turn in your gun."
"Said we could take it home? Did last night?"
"Rules changed."
"..."
New rules overnight? No incident, my ass. Sweat beaded on Junior's neck.
Cheol-woo scanned the room—everyone pretending to work, eyes locked here. Team Leader Kang's right hand stayed in his pocket all day, itching his pit or whatever.
Suspicion hardened to certainty. Holding him here to hit his sister. Go loud now? Odds?
Sixteen heads. All watching—no surprise. Fifteen rounds...
Enough. Calculation done, he caught keyboard taps beyond the partition. Pistol out, aimed past Junior's shoulder.
"Yaaak—"
"Rookie!!!"
Bang!
The shot punched through Team Leader Kang's forehead as he drew. Junior whipped out a pocketknife and lunged—Cheol-woo backpedaled, gripped short and fired. Bang-bang! Holes bloomed in Junior's shirt; he crumpled howling.
"Guhk!"
Cheol-woo booted him aside. Bang! Bullet shredded the partition. Zing—thud. The phone-tapper collapsed, brains blown out the back.
Staff mobbed the gun locker—bang-bang-bang! Headshots dropped them limp.
Glance back: staff vanished. Feet shuffled under partitions.
"You dog-fucking bastard! Die! Guhk! Gack!"
Crash! Partitions splintered as staff charged from both sides. Cheol-woo shouldered the first like a sack, hurling him into the rest. Thud—like bowling pins.
He leaped gaps, popping headshots on the fallen. Bang-bang-bang!
"..."
At the locker, Cheol-woo's face hardened. Missing pistols. Then—click-clack, stiff from poor oil.
Bang! Rat-tat! Bang! A graze on his head—he dove behind partition base.
"Phone! Phone! Call the boss... Aaaagh!"
Bang! Hand reaching for phone flew off through the gap.
Reloading, a curious head peeked—bullet lodged, spine snapped backward.
"Fuck! Someone grab the phone!!!"
"Hraaaah!"
A pig charged thundering. Bang! Lung shot—no satisfying bite. Ricochet off vest flattened into his shirt.
What the—
Pig shielded face with arms, flailing. Bang! 9mm pierced one arm, then the other, slamming into his nose. Robot shutdown—crumpled.
Cheol-woo punted the corpse aside, flung his empty slide-locked pistol. Smacked one square in the face—nose exploded, snorting blood.
"Kraaak! He's dry!"
"Shoot! Fire!"
Bang! Tat-tat! Bang-bang! Heads popped up from cover, bullets flying.
Cheol-woo charged with vest-pig as shield—thud! One down. Knife out, stabbed ribs 3-to-6 left. One nicked heart—went limp fast.
"Cornered! Pile on!"
Staff swarmed the "fallen" Cheol-woo. He scooped his dropped pistol, hunkered behind pig, reloaded. Shield made it easy. Never appreciated this bulky vest till now.
After the barrage, only groaners left.
"Hee! Heek!"
Bang! No need for multiple mouths. One down, last trembling wreck got the barrel to his head.
Then—distant phone ring.
"..."
From Jeong. Cheol-woo fetched the bloody phone, jammed it to the staffer's ear. What now? Pleading eyes—no mercy. Switched to speaker, answered.
"Ah, uh. Huh?"
"L-Lee Junior, sir."
"Team Leader Kang stepped out..."
The staffer jerked his head up, trembling. Cheol-woo's blank stare met his—pupils quaked. No muzzle, but cold metal chilled his neck.
"Y-Yes, sir. Working hard."
"..."
Call dropped. Head turned—bang. Limp.
"Shitty gun."
Stepping over corpses, Cheol-woo ditched the crap Glock 26. Too small, hand hurt. Snagged his tossed P226, reloaded, holstered. Magwell sucked it smooth, oiled slide glided, compensator tamed recoil—my gun's the best.
Grabbed crowbar for the safe—
"Ah, fuck..."
Gurgle. Gut twisted. Cheol-woo's brow furrowed.