Civil War (8)
"Alright. I bought a ton of ingredients, so make us some food."
"Pardon? Food? Here?"
The basket full of various groceries thudded onto the floor, and Mi-young's eyes went wide.
We're in a hotel room? Cook here...?
"Yeah. Hurry up. I'm starving."
"But... there are plenty of restaurants outside..."
"Outside's crawling with parasites. How could I trust food made by those things?"
"That's true, but... the kitchen facilities here are pretty basic..."
"And besides, your cooking's delicious. I might not be satisfied with anyone else's from now on."
"Oh, really? Then I'll do my best!"
She'd been grumbling nonstop, but suddenly her face lit up, and she dove right into prepping the ingredients. Yuri snorted.
This girl's a pushover.
I liked how a few compliments got her working diligently without backtalk. No doubt that's how she ended up with Han Si-jang—got swept up by the initial kindness, devoted herself body and soul, only to get discarded like trash.
The type drawn to slightly bad guys? Susceptible to gaslighting? Something like that?
Come to think of it, Cheol-woo could be a real asshole too. Anyone could see he was older, but he acted like the boss from the jump, spitting casual speech left and right. Treating Mi-young like some machine for cooking, laundry, and chores instead of a person. She was consistent in her taste for the people she served, that was for sure. Otherwise...
"No way. Right?"
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"It better not be."
"W-what are you talking about... Don't look at me like that, it's scary..."
No way she likes Cheol-woo?
With anyone else, I'd dismiss it outright. But considering Mi-young's twisted tastes, I couldn't help suspecting. It was obviously not the case—of course she'd never dare dream of it—but you never know. She seemed perfectly normal on the surface, great at cooking and housework, prime wife material. But her background? Defector from North Korea, Chinese nurse, ethnic Korean gangster company? Shake my head. Instant disqualification.
Remembering how I'd let Cheol-woo date that gold-digging snake bitch because he liked her, only for it to blow up in his face? Yeah, I needed to play filter right from the start.
Ah, that fucking flower snake bitch—gets me pissed just thinking about her.
Anyway, Cheol-woo had zero eye for women. Her fault for deceiving, sure, but the idiot who got duped was just as bad.
"I trust you won't do anything stupid in a professional relationship."
"O-of course not..."
Just don't get any funny ideas and do your damn job properly.
Mi-young stiffened, tense. Was I crazy? With these two employers who'd probably hunt her to the ends of the earth and dismantle her limb from limb if she bolted, who'd dare entertain delusions? Maybe they were extra wary because she'd betrayed and crossed over once before. Mi-young felt wronged. She was fine anywhere as long as her ship wasn't sinking...
If they'd just let her, she'd curse out Kim Jong-un, that bastard! Xi Jinping, bastard! Han Si-yeon, bastard! Whatever.
"Hmph..."
Yuri finally withdrew her suspicious glare and turned away. Only then could Mi-young exhale in relief.
She pulled back the blinds with a whoosh and peered outside.
A perfectly ordinary small-town scene unfolded—no anomalies in sight. Cars passing occasionally, people walking and laughing together, folks biking home from work...
Most of them aren't even human—just monsters pretending to be.
Even in Hong Kong, the infection rate hadn't been this bad. Or maybe there just weren't as many to begin with. A chill raced down her spine, her whole body itching like mad.
They could turn any second...
Smiling and chatting like humans now, but one day they might snap, faces blank as they hunt us down. That's why she'd stocked the hotel room with food and checked her weapons.
But if hundreds of thousands of parasites rampaged through this city, could she protect Mi-young alone? Without Cheol-woo, everything felt hopeless.
"Huh? What's that?"
Then she spotted a convoy of trucks clogging the road, and Yuri's eyes widened.
An endless line of semis hauling massive trailers. Australia was vast with huge trucking operations, sure, but in Darwin—a city of just 150,000—this was downright bizarre. And it wasn't incoming; they were leaving. No major cargo ship had docked recently—what the hell were they hauling out?
Yuri snapped photos, a bad feeling gnawing at her.
***
"Okay. Sis is fine."
Cheol-woo checked the tracking app and sighed in relief. True to orders, she hadn't strayed far from the hotel, holed up in the room like he wanted. He'd wondered if she'd ditched the choker and wandered off, but the position shifting slightly every so often suggested otherwise.
Should've gotten one with pet cam...
Location visible was great, but it left him wanting more. A remote cam would've eased the frustration.
As Cheol-woo grumbled inwardly,
"David Min. We've got 150 combatants assembled, divided into 15 teams of 10, standing by."
"On my way."
He entered the dark room at the summons.
One-way magic mirror: they couldn't see him, but he could them. Ten men stood at attention—Secret Intelligence Agency agents yanked in without explanation.
Cheol-woo scanned their eyes one by one, gave the pass signal, and they filed out. Next group in.
"Number 3's a parasite. Rest pass."
"Number 3... Understood..."
Filtering parasites left 120 agents. Considering only 30% at headquarters were human, that was an impressive yield.
"Then we're set with 120 combat agents for the Secret Intelligence Agency surgery op. Jason, Deputy Director—mind handling the briefing?"
"Gladly."
Their mission was high-risk. Not just executing trained Black agents, but confirming parasite status first via X-ray head scans. If targets caught on during the process, fights would erupt, spiking difficulty. Many of these 120 might get hurt or die.
Still, they couldn't ignore infected Black agents—ones who controlled local police and intel networks. Perfect for sabotage strikes.
"David Min, can you judge infection from video footage, eye contact via media?"
"Let's see."
The director shoved a tablet forward; faces flickered across the screen.
At first uncertain, but patterns emerged. Unnatural gazes, subtle eye glitches. This one's infected. This one isn't.
As Cheol-woo swiped through, the director's face hardened.
"My God. Even the PM and spokesperson... Over half the MPs, top prosecutors, most judges..."
The rule-of-law state's power structure was fully compromised. Realizing the gravity, the director hyperventilated.
No legal path to restoration. Clean house the cabinet? Parliament strips powers. Executive orders? Courts reject. Had to gut cabinet, parliament, and courts simultaneously—impossible without detection. One MP touched becomes news; hundreds quietly? No way.
"Sequential hits are impossible time- and manpower-wise. So we target the next joint session—both houses gathered."
Next session: ten days out. Audit team incoming to Secret Intelligence by then, but Security Intelligence could stall formation. Ten days gave time for the strike teams to return. Then full force from both agencies to paralyze cabinet, parliament, courts, military. Unprecedented, insane difficulty—but doable. Agencies meant to check each other pulling a deliberate coup? Bound to succeed.
Feasible?
This could work. Ample time, realistic plan.
Cheol-woo nodded—
Ding—
His phone rang.