Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: Those Rising from the Shadows (1)
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An early dawn with autumn frost settling on the grass blades. A single black sedan was parked in front of the rusted iron gate of Anyang Prison.
A man immediately stepped out of the car. With an appearance reminiscent of a bear, he lit a cigarette and clamped it between his lips.
As the gray cigarette smoke scattered several times in the biting autumn wind, the iron gate creaked open with the sound of metal hinges grinding.
The man approached the gate and handed a block of white tofu to the person emerging from inside the walls, greeting him.
"Congrats on getting out, Hun-i."
"Thanks for watching over me all this time, Nakgu Hyung-nim."
"Between family, we live by loyalty. Just like how you took all the heat for our Ilsung Faction title."
Nakgu flicked the ash roughly from the tip of his cigarette with his fingertips. Tak, tak.
He opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat, staring at the steering wheel engraved with a large triangular star emblem.
"Get in."
"Yes, Hyung-nim."
Foreign luxury car, high-end watch on his wrist. His spending had clearly ballooned to a level incomparable to before.
The changes were palpably felt. Though Nakgu was the hyung-nim he'd served, he'd transformed dramatically in just a few years.
As Hun-i silently marveled at all these changes, Nakgu, watching him, spoke first.
"Six years is a long stretch. You did well."
"Thanks for acknowledging it, Hyung-nim."
"Kid, you got any plans for what you're gonna do now that you're out?"
"A guy like me becoming a thug? What else is there besides extortion?"
Hun-i dropped his scarred face downward and spoke with a sigh.
Seeing this, Nakgu lit another cigarette and immediately scolded him in response.
"What bullshit. You think that psycho Detective Park's just gonna sit back and let you do extortion?"
Through the hazy fog, the red light at the intersection faintly came into view.
In the empty early dawn, the car, which had been cruising smoothly, came to a stop there.
Tick-tock, tick-tock. In the space filled only with the sound of the turn signal, Nakgu broke the silence first.
"Detective Park, that bastard. You know he slaps cuffs on any gangster just for pissing on the roadside?"
"......"
"After you took the fall for a big case and did hard time like that, you can't just go back to slugging it out in the southern Gyeonggi underworld like old times."
The bar owner who'd refused protection money. Hun-i had sliced the tendons in his ankle with a butcher knife.
It was to establish the prestige of the Ilsung Faction, the organization he belonged to, and tighten discipline among the merchants in southern Gyeonggi.
Of course, Hun-i had shouldered all the blame alone, cutting off the tail.
"Whew, then I guess I can't squeeze protection money from those bar bitches like before."
"Yeah. And anyway, the family's been out of that petty shit for a long time. It's outdated business now."
Hun-i's eyes widened at the news that the organization had quit the protection racket.
Nakgu merged onto the highway, flooring the accelerator and swaggering with full arrogance, like some big-shot entrepreneur painting a grand picture.
"Business... you mean, Hyung-nim?"
"The times have changed. While you were locked up, Hun-i."
Nakgu casually flicked his cigarette butt out the window.
He didn't bring his arm—tattooed with a carp—back inside the car.
He just extended his finger outward, pointing at something in the distance, and spat out a single confident word.
"The big hyung-nim who went to Thailand came back to Korea last week. Came back a huge success."
"The big hyung-nim? For real?"
"Yeah, you punk. All this we're enjoying now is thanks to the big hyung-nim."
Only then did the pent-up questions seem to resolve, as Hun-i's pupils shook in his bulky, Dol-san-like frame, mismatched with his tough build.
Nakgu, finding Hun-i adorable like that, puffed up even more and continued.
"When you've made it big in this world, you gotta run the washing machine hard at least once. And that washing machine? It's run by us Ilsung Faction family."
"Washing machine... you mean?"
"Yeah. So, Hun-i."
The pungent smell of dirty money, suspicious as could be.
The illegally earned cash, even if it was on the edge of existence, was pulling out all stops to enter the realm of legitimacy.
Enough to upend the lives of these two gangsters root and branch.
"You join me on a big score."
Nakgu's smile reflected in the rearview mirror.
Hun-i analyzed the meaning behind that odd grin with his deeply scarred eyes.
As always, when Nakgu lied, his lower gold tooth would sparkle exposed outside.
But this time, it wasn't visible. Meaning, at least Nakgu wasn't deceiving Hun-i, even if he himself was being played.
Having made up his mind, Hun-i immediately submitted to him.
"If I can't accept the pull you're giving me, what else can I do? If Nakgu Hyung-nim vouches for it solid, I'll follow without question."
"You punk... your eyes are still sharp. Not dulled yet, fresh out of the slammer."
"Thanks, Hyung-nim!"
Nakgu roughly ruffled Hun-i's shaved head.
Hun-i cautiously asked Nakgu one question, unsure what his own future held.
"But Hyung-nim, what kind of business is it? The field?"
"Field? It's not gonna get you killed like extortion, so don't worry. It'll have even more face than before."
"Hyung-nim?"
Nakgu recalled all the petty gigs he'd done up till now.
Extortion, prostitution, hostess bars, illegal loans, even voice phishing.
But that small-time stuff had been gone from his life for ages.
A big score. Recalling the one that had flipped his gangster life in a single shot, Nakgu opened his mouth brimming with excitement.
"Real estate! From planning to execution, the whole thing. How 'bout that? Feels like your shoulders are getting puffed up, right?"
"R-real estate? How's a thick-headed thug like me supposed to do something that tough?"
"Just trust the big hyung-nim and do as he says. Let's head to the office first. I'll get you business cards printed right away, Hun-i."
And with that, Nakgu handed Hun-i his own business card. It bore the plausible title of "Team Leader," along with a pitch-black dragon sketched in one corner.
Alongside the unfamiliar company name [Heukryong Construction].
* * * *
'Gangsters. Korean organized crime syndicates that expanded into Thailand. Intel says their dirty money flows... are heading toward Ammunition Construction.'
After finishing his call with Prime Minister Inthak, those final words had echoed steadily in his mind like a refrain.
To a chaebol chairman of the Ammunition Group's caliber, gangsters were truly laughable riffraff not worth mentioning.
However....
"These petty bastards are the ones who grow into central heavyweights in about ten years."
Gangsters planning to rake in cash from illegal private toto lotteries. Or maybe already doing it now.
Catching them aggressively wouldn't bring me direct profit, even if I did. And if they weren't caught, it wouldn't cause me major loss either.
But.
"If Ammunition Construction is tangled in their money-laundering methods, it's got plenty of potential to cause problems down the line."
No matter how desperately they claw toward the sunny side of legitimacy, gangsters are gangsters. Even the tiniest connection with them would inevitably drag the Group into crisis someday—plain as day.
That's why... at minimum, chopping off their tails infiltrating Ammunition Construction knowingly or not is the right call.
I pressed the call button firmly and issued an order to the secretariat staff.
"Get Seong Won-sik, Headquarters Director... no, Seong Won-sik, President of Ammunition Infrastructure, up here."
* * * *
Ammunition Infrastructure.
Seong Won-sik was the president helming this behemoth company formed by merging Construction, Heavy Industries, and Shipbuilding & Marine.
Having fully proven his results in Thailand, he'd seized the inaugural presidency of Ammunition Infrastructure as desired.
"You called for me, Chairman?"
"Domestic construction status. From apartments to commercial buildings, officetels, and all the miscellaneous stuff—compile it all into a report."
"Yes...?"
Seong Won-sik looked flustered at my sudden order.
And rightly so. Lately, Ammunition Infrastructure's key projects were focused overseas, not domestic. Compared to the big fish abroad, the home front was still struggling to shake off the economic slump.
"Especially the dubious new subcontractors list. Pull everything—real owners, shareholdings, recent activities."
Seong Won-sik floated a massive question mark over his head. He seemed puzzled by my unusually intense reaction.
Well, of course. No one knew yet. How far these gangsters would grow, how massive their power would become.
And... I'd seen, heard, and felt their influence firsthand from inside the prison walls.
Illegal private toto. How solid the legitimate foundation was that they built with the dirty money from it.
'Hmm, damn it. They're really laying it on thick, total bootlickers. Once they flash that Ilsung Faction tag, even in prison they're like overlords.'
Was it around year eight of my sentence before regression?
The cell boss came back from outside labor, one cheek swollen puffy, fuming.
'Cell boss hyung-nim, what happened?'
'Hey, you punk. You stay low and out of sight from those rotten Ilsung Faction bastards too. They're crazier than crazy.'
Even in prison, the Ilsung Faction gangsters ignored the guards completely.
The new arrivals spent a while slapping around and berating cell bosses under the guise of enforcing order.
Of course, no one resisted their massive backers.
'Those flat-nosed bastards. Word is the top of their top brass flashes around some chaebol chairman's business card. World's gone to shit, gotten way too cushy.'
Somehow they'd laundered it, and the illegal toto funds came out sparkling clean.
As a result, the local southern Gyeonggi gangsters of Ilsung Faction snagged the shell of a mid-tier firm with a decent office building smack in the middle of Jongno.
One that could even wield big influence in central politics.
"Understood. I'll... compile it as ordered, but could you tell me the reason?"
Unaware of why, Seong Won-sik responded to my order with a quizzical counter-question, his voice full of doubt.
I answered him straight away.
An answer containing the reason why we had to nip it in the bud from the start.
"Ammunition Infrastructure—especially the domestic construction division—seems to be unwittingly serving as a washing machine for dirty money."