Chapter 127
Chapter 127
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: Great Escape (2)
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Blue House main building, Presidential Office.
The president lounged obliquely in a chair beneath a pair of phoenixes carved from a solid chunk of gold.
“Hoo, look here, Policy Secretary Park. Is this even something that could happen in reality?”
He didn’t hold back on his exclamation of awe, holding a single report in his hand.
A report drafted by the coalition of intelligence agencies dispatched to China, led by the National Intelligence Service.
“Just hearing it with my ears and seeing a few photos, it feels so vivid—like watching a movie.”
“…Even for me, there are parts that are hard to believe. Especially that section you’re looking at right now.”
Policy Secretary Park Dong-hee cautiously covered the part where the president’s gaze lingered with one palm.
There, an image showed a vigorous young man pulling out some kind of baton and controlling over 3,000 people.
Alongside images of Chinese personnel beaten half to a pulp by Ammunition Group’s security team.
“To think he even anticipated the betrayal by the local collaborators… That was beyond my expectations.”
“Exactly. Our dispatched agents all ended up looking like fools.”
The intelligence coalition had already known that the cooperative forces overseeing the local peddlers would betray them.
Even after receiving that report in advance, the president hadn’t issued any other orders besides to observe until something decisive happened.
Half of that was to slap a big leash on Ammunition Group’s neck during any potential cleanup afterward.
The other half…
Was simple curiosity about the unpredictable responses of one individual: Han Seo-jun.
And now, of those purposes, only the latter had been fulfilled.
“He’s got guts, that one. You think so too, don’t you? Having danced in the palm of his hand yourself.”
“Ahem, Your Excellency…”
“Ha ha ha. Come on, not that again. Not that.”
Policy Secretary Park Dong-hee fidgeted awkwardly. The president seemed to find it amusing, grinning like a mischievous kid.
“Anyway, enough teasing you. So, about that at the end of the report.”
The intelligence coalition’s report had reached its final page.
Attached was a photo of semiconductor precision equipment, disassembled down to the screw, smuggled to Hong Kong and now being loaded onto a ship bound for Korea.
The president tossed aside his reading glasses and pointed at the photo with his finger.
“Instruct the Customs Commissioner to clear the import declaration immediately, no pesky procedures. And give them some leeway.”
“Yes, understood, Your Excellency.”
“And don’t forget to classify it as a confidential document so the next administration can’t nitpick. Oh, and one more thing.”
The president grabbed Policy Secretary Park Dong-hee, who was bowing and about to leave.
As if recalling something he’d forgotten, he posed a question.
“What was the word on Beijing’s movements? Regarding that Kra Canal and the Belt and Road Initiative.”
“Well… For now, they’re shouting their heads off in Zhongnanhai. That old Zhang fellow.”
“Shouting?”
The president tilted his head.
He knew the Beijing old monster called Zhang wasn’t the type for explosive temper.
It didn’t sit right that a sly, cunning old raccoon like him would roar like a lion. Sensing the president’s puzzlement, Policy Secretary Park Dong-hee quickly elaborated.
“Yes, Your Excellency. Here’s what happened…”
* * * *
“You idiot! Failing because you couldn’t even keep an eye on Ammunition Group’s bastards properly!”
-Thwack!
An inkstone as dark as pitch black, engraved with twin dragons at the edges.
The inkstone, which had held ink in its center, flew through the air and struck the head of the man seated before him squarely.
Not satisfied with the flowing red blood, it let the black ink pour down as well.
“Don’t you want to live?”
“…….”
Drip, drip. The dark red liquid trailed down James Wang’s executive director’s hair.
Faced with his utterly humiliated figure, Beijing’s old monster growled in his characteristically grating voice.
“Beijing’s pro-Qing prison! You want to end up in that place for dead political prisoners?”
Zhang’s fury raged like a guttural roar.
Yet, the fists of James Wang, head bowed before him, showed not the slightest tremble.
Because Beijing’s old monster’s performative rage looked utterly artificial, like processed material.
‘Disgusting old freak. Desperate to pin the blame on me.’
In truth, Zhang bore the responsibility for overseeing and controlling the Fuzhou Party Secretary process.
Interpreting his contrived outburst in political terms meant:
‘Don’t make me take the fall—hurry up and give me a way out of this mess.’
That’s why, even in this oppressive atmosphere, James Wang could calmly gather his thoughts.
Wiping the dark red liquid from his hair, he slowly opened his tightly shut mouth.
“I always have a contingency ready, Elder Zhang.”
“…If it’s nothing substantial, there’ll be a fitting price to pay.”
“No need to worry. It’s merely an extension of the ‘kill the donkey once it’s hauled the grain’ plan you devised.”
James Wang had no intention of shouldering the blame and boarding the bus to a political prison.
Facing the old monster whose facial muscles twitched impatiently, he continued.
“Replace the Islamic warlord leadership in the south with pro-China puppets, have them seize the Kra Canal, and everything resolves itself.”
“Hah! Anyone can spit out fancy words. Give me the concrete details!”
Thwack, thwack. Beijing’s old monster slammed his gold-leafed fan on the table.
Though his angry voice didn’t subside easily, both men in the room knew.
Everything moving forward hinged on what James Wang would say next.
“Malaysian intelligence agencies. Set up a meeting with them.”
“What?”
Elder Zhang’s eyebrow arched at the unexpected third party. Confirming the fan had stilled, James Wang pressed his argument.
“Once the Kra Canal opens, Malaysia—straddling the lower shipping lanes—will inevitably feel threatened.”
“Ahem…”
“So, it’s fitting to install their puppet faction as the head of the rebel nation.”
Beijing’s old monster stared impassively at the man presenting the solution.
In the brief moment water filled and emptied in the garden bamboo tube, he completed all political calculations and posed a question to James Wang.
A formal one, though he knew the answer, to clarify responsibility.
“Can it be done?”
“I’ll make it happen.”
Heh, only then did Elder Zhang reveal the sly smile hidden beneath his mask.
Ringing the bell on the table to summon an attendant, he had a document brought and scribbled a name on it with his fountain pen.
“Very well. I’ll slot you as deputy envoy for the upcoming Southeast Asia tour.”
“…I can only express deepest gratitude for your boundless grace, Elder.”
“Gratitude? Spare me the empty words.”
Elder Zhang rose. He patted the shoulder of James Wang, who feigned submission, and strode off.
No longer even pretending to hide his own desires.
“Now deliver results. Or the dog going into the pot will be you.”
* * * *
Hong Kong at night.
Hong Kong’s nightscape, still untouched by the Chinese Communist Party’s influence, was utterly free and beautiful.
Of course, even more free and beautiful than that dazzling view were the second straight day of nonstop drinking by me, Uncle Kim Won-cheol, and Aide Yoo Se-na.
“Aide Yoo Se-na? Will you… marry me?”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol, with a goofy expression, twisted a bottle cap into a ring shape.
Then, oblivious to pitch, he hummed the wedding march as background music and presented the bottle-cap ring like a proper proposal.
“I love you~”
“Oh, come on! Secretary Kim, please!”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol’s drunken antics forcibly recalled yesterday’s booze-up with the Fuzhou Party Secretary.
Aide Yoo Se-na’s sharp reaction drew a satisfied belly laugh from the balding uncle.
“Kee hee hee. Man, holding back the laughs that day was killing me.”
“I was just struggling to keep it together?”
The two of them—or perhaps just Aide Yoo Se-na’s noble sacrifice—had smoothly wrapped up yesterday’s drinking session.
That’s why, after arriving in Hong Kong, I hadn’t rushed back home but stayed a bit to rest.
“Anyway, you both did great. Especially you, Aide Yoo Se-na.”
I portioned some well-roasted duck leg meat onto the plate before her.
A fresh bottle of maotai vanished in no time.
“For now, the semiconductor factory risk in China is gone as of today. That alone is worth celebrating.”
“A bit of a shame, but no choice. Let’s roll with it.”
“The Kra Canal opposes their Belt and Road strategy from the start. Better to ignore the CCP as much as possible going forward.”
I knocked back a shot of maotai with Uncle Kim Won-cheol.
The slightly musty sting hit my nose. This Chinese liquor, drinkable only here for the foreseeable future, I probably wouldn’t taste again anytime soon.
“Whew, but hey. You think the ChiComs will just sit still?”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol pointed beyond the nightscape toward mainland China.
Beyond the twinkling lights lay the dark expanse we could no longer set foot in.
“That Belt and Road thing—it’s their grand strategy, right? They won’t just take it lying down like chumps.”
“No way they’d sit idle. They’ll probably… play their final card. The strongest one, hardest to overturn.”
Aide Yoo Se-na, listening to our exchange, seemed gripped by unease.
She cautiously voiced her concern.
“Then… what do we do next? We can’t even predict what move they’ll make.”
“I—and we—can’t predict that.”
Aide Yoo Se-na drooped her head at my firm denial.
But you’ve got to hear people out to the end.
I shot up from my seat, straightened my necktie, and continued confidently.
“But I know someone who can predict whatever move they make.”
“Chairman…?”
“Time to head out. We’ve got a long flight tomorrow morning. To meet that prophet fellow.”