Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Events in the West (4)
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James Wang Director's voice, which I was hearing again after a long time, was hoarse. Like scraping something with an iron shard—a heavy, resonant tone.
“This is our first time meeting in person, Chairman Han Seo-jun.”
Not over the phone, but seeing James Wang Director in the flesh.
His expression was calm.
Like glimpsing a cold wolf hidden beneath the rugged exterior of a rough man.
A wolf crouched on a low hill, patiently waiting for its prey to move, then charging down the moment the time was right.
As if he had already marked this as prime hunting ground, James Wang Director approached me slowly and extended his hand.
I gripped that hand, thick with bulging veins, without a moment's hesitation.
“Pleased to meet you. Though it's our first time with Director James Wang... it feels like we've known each other for over ten years.”
The long years accumulated even from my previous life.
I stared straight into his jet-black eyes.
Before regression, he had clawed away only the juiciest parts of the shredded Ammunition Group and flown off across the sea.
His claws were still sharp as ever. He had merely caught his breath from the rough exertion, then picked up new weapons to target me again.
“Ten years, huh. In a relationship where we're both dying to stab each other in the back, that tracks. But...”
James Wang Director applied excessive force to our clasped hands.
A crushing pressure transmitted as if my grip might burst, but it didn't faze me in the slightest.
I simply tightened the noose a bit harder than the strength he exerted.
“The wild beast called Ammunition Group, drunk on excessive ambition, tried to swallow whole chunks of meat it couldn't digest.”
He continued in a low, growling voice.
He had... apparently chosen this place—the UN headquarters where the flags of all nations fluttered in the wind—as his battlefield.
A battlefield where he was assured of the high ground, one where he could win.
“Even knowing full well that the bones attached would fiercely pierce the inside of its own throat.”
“Wild beast, you say. Director James Wang, it seems you fancy yourself the hunter.”
“I can shoot down rampaging beasts from the frontier with arrows anytime, so hunter fits well enough.”
With brimming confidence. Or perhaps a tone where he had to convince even himself, speaking as if affirming it to me.
Suddenly, a fierce wind blew in from the nearby river. Amid the flags whipping like coastal waves, his final words were a declaration of war in themselves.
“Especially if it's a young deer not just roaming its own eastern turf, but venturing as far as this southern land.”
“In that case... we'll see it through right here today. You or me.”
Our gazes, locked in midair—mine and James Wang Director's—had reached an irreversible point.
Just as the battle of wills between us reached a stalemate. James Wang Director's finger pointed toward the massive screen in front of the UN headquarters building.
On the screen was the Chinese ambassador standing before a podium wall pieced together from green stone slabs.
“Looks like it's starting. The opening shot announcing Ammunition Group's downfall and your defeat, Chairman Han.”
The Chinese ambassador adjusted his glasses, on the verge of sliding down the bridge of his nose. From the tinny speaker came his dull voice, slowly flowing out.
And at that very moment... as if claiming victory from the high ground, James Wang Director grinned at me.
“Watch it closely from this spot. In this game over the Kra Canal and the South, victory goes to my side.”
* * * *
“Sniff, huuhuhuu.”
In Pyeongchang-dong, where grand mansions lined the streets.
There sat someone letting out a mournful wail, like a cat fresh from neutering surgery.
In the study of Ammunition Group's empress, Seo Taehu, the man barely holding onto his wandering soul.
Kim Won-cheol, slumped over the desk like a spread-out slime, opened his mouth to Director Seo Myung-hee in a deflated voice.
“Ugh! Whew, it's all set. With this controlling stake, no more headaches for you, Director.”
“Hmm, let me see it here.”
Seo Taehu donned her silver-framed glasses and stroked the documents with wrinkled hands.
After rereading several times, she soon spoke to Kim Won-cheol with a satisfied expression.
“Well done. See? When it really counts, does a guy who folds when pushed ever flap his beak thirteen times like a duck's?”
“Ah, then our Chairman's off to New York with Aide Yoo Se-na for some haha-hoho fun. Wouldn't it be sad not to tag along?”
Kim Won-cheol recited his list of burgers he was dying to try in New York.
Gazing at him, Seo Taehu lobbed a single ice-pick word at Kim Won-cheol.
“Honestly, even past fifty and still so childish. It was better when that Park Ja-ok was by your side.”
Flinch—his shoulders, slumped like a coil spring at the mention of his divorced ex-wife, snapped upright.
“What a horrific thing to say. You know my wandering ways are all because of Ja-ok.”
“Excuses. Enough idle chatter—hook up the TV screen already. That UN thing.”
Kim Won-cheol grumbled but never forgot to do his tasks properly. Watching his retreating back, Seo Taehu vaguely recalled her late eldest son, the former chairman of Ammunition Group.
Kim Won-cheol, who had always stuck to her eldest son's side like a shadow, never shirking the role of advisor. Beyond their boyhood friendship, to Seo Taehu, he was undeniably trustworthy.
Having served her late eldest son so faithfully, and now faithfully acting as chief aide to her grandson as well.
“Anyway, a guy who loves his grandson that much—why not show it more often? Always putting on such a grave front. And with that shitty pose to boot.”
“Quiet! If the TV's connected, turn it on already!”
“Yes, ma'am.”
After a few bursts of static, the screen stabilized, showing the center of the UN General Assembly podium.
The metallic UN logo shaped like a world map, and the green stone wall adorning the wall behind the podium.
Clack, clack—the sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the screen, and someone took position at the very heart of the world, where no one had stood moments before.
It was the ambassador from China.
“Huh? Looks like the jjajang crew's up first. Schedule must've changed.”
“Any issues?”
“No, not exactly.”
The changed order of speeches from the schedule. For whatever reason, the Chinese ambassador spoke with unusually brimming confidence.
-Therefore! China will actively cooperate with surrounding nations, including Malaysia, for the prosperity and peace of Southeast Asia!
Flowery words at first glance. But peeling back that thin shell revealed raw red flesh, exposing their own desires plainly.
-By actively and organically cooperating between Chinese civilization and the Islamic world, we hereby declare our intent to exert positive and benevolent influence across Southeast Asia!
And Kim Won-cheol, fully confronting that roar of ambition from his seat.
Was it because he possessed such a brilliantly sharp mind?
The words from his mouth, after swiftly calculating the complex power dynamics, were a deflated certainty.
A certainty brimming with trust in the much younger lord he served at his side.
“Hmm, maybe this is even better. The jjajang guys charging first and eating massive humiliation—that'll crush Yako hard.”
* * * *
At first, I thought maybe some equipment or a guy like Hahudon was up there.
The Chinese ambassador, built like a general from the Chu-Han era. He wrapped up his booming speech in his naturally thunderous voice and descended amid formal applause.
Especially... with support from Islamic nations in Southeast Asia, including Malaysia.
“I assume you've grasped the situation well enough?”
James Wang Director stepped closer to me, as if flaunting that he had orchestrated the whole thing, and opened his mouth.
“No matter how much you bustle east and west, Chairman Han... struggling in an unwinnable game is nothing but futile effort.”
The massive puzzle picture James Wang Director himself had drawn. With the final piece now slotted in, he seemed overcome with emotion.
His face flushed as he gazed at me, utterly convinced of his victory.
However....
“I don't fight in unwinnable games.”
“What...?”
My eyes fixed solely on the screen straight ahead, I spoke without so much as glancing at him.
I knew. The grand picture he had drawn, and every puzzle piece fitted to match it, was sounding alarms toward some grave error.
“Watch closely.”
I pointed at the screen with my finger.
From here on... I would dismantle the assembled puzzle chunks, reposition them anew.
My own grand picture, which might seem poorly drawn at a glance. I pulled a trump puzzle piece from my breast pocket and dangled it before his eyes.
-Saudi special envoy Mohammed here. And the little girl beside me... says she's from Uyghur.
The puzzle piece called Uyghur, touching the reverse scale of the entire Islamic world.
-Before my speech, we'll begin testimony on what happened in Urumqi, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region. First... let's watch this footage of Chinese public security massacring civilians.
* * * *
Beijing's Zhongnanhai, Minister Zhang's residence.
The usual roars that echoed whenever China's Minister of Public Security visited the old monster's mansion were absent today.
The circular ripples reflecting in the garden pond, the green mallards flapping their wings in surprise atop it—all silent.
“Well done. Looks like you've finally got some real sense for the job.”
“...I'm grateful to fill my shortcomings with praise.”
Instead, warm words of commendation from the old monster.
Having read the full report, Minister Zhang used a red pen to point out details one by one, sparing no praise.
“This point right here—I'd give it top marks. Using the abandoned military facilities first.”
Building internment camps took far too long. But a few renovations on existing abandoned military sites would suffice as temporary facilities.
“The key is locking them up first. Give people time to think, and they'll raise all sorts of stupid rebellions.”
“We focused on adult immediate family members of those arrested during the protests.”
“Well done. Rebel bloodlines run deep, after all. If there's anything to add...”
The old monster from Beijing ordered even underage direct family into the camps. The moderate-leaning Minister of Public Security inwardly agonized at the directives growing ever more brutal.
‘This way... trouble's bound to erupt later.’
And at that moment, the outer door burst open.
For some reason, the Minister of Public Security seemed possessed by a spirit today. The pale-faced secretary rushed in, spilling exactly what he had feared.
“M-Minister Zhang! Breaking news!”
“You insolent fool! What justifies such rudeness!”
The old monster from Beijing bristled with anger.
But it took little time for that red rage to turn to pale shock.
“The UN right now... it's blowing up over the Uyghur massacre issue!”