Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Those Rising from the Shadows (6)
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A massive officetel construction site on the southern outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, a bit southeast of Bundang.
One building with 350 units each, from Building A to D, totaling a whopping 1,400 units.
The enormous square concrete masses were waiting for the glass tiles that would soon be attached. A skin to cover their ugly innards.
"Hoo, those bastards. They sure build it flashy. I hear they don't use red bricks anymore these days?"
Wearing a white hard hat that didn't suit him, Joo Gwae-yul was inspecting the site here and there. He pointed at the building's exterior with his finger and peppered Nak-gu with questions.
"Now even officetels have fancy brand names like apartments?"
"Yes, Hyung-nim. We have to use the Ammunition Infra skin for now. That officetel brand name is..."
Nak-gu paused to recall for a moment before remembering the packaging name.
A name that might draw a chuckle, somewhat ridiculous.
"Uh... Flame. Flame Suite Home, Hyung-nim."
"Flame? The building's named Flame? Ha ha ha, damn. If I were the Ammunition Group Chairman, I'd burn alive the guy who came up with that name first."
Joo Gwae-yul laughed heartily after his vicious line.
The technicians gathered in small groups smoking nearby didn't even register in his eyes.
Nak-gu confirmed his boss was in a good mood and didn't forget to chime in.
"That's proof that Ammunition Infra doesn't give a damn about their domestic division."
"True. If they were as meticulous as those SA Group or T Group pricks, we couldn't even pull this off. And..."
Joo Gwae-yul had now stepped outside the construction site.
He winced at the distant noise hurting his ears and spoke in a somewhat bored tone.
"Someday, I need to get another washing machine instead of this dusty bullshit."
One step, one step.
With each footprint, the construction noise faded further.
And like the dust clouds that had now dissipated entirely, Nak-gu's lips remained silent in the quiet.
"......"
Nak-gu, the gangster proving his worth through the guise of construction.
At Joo Gwae-yul's mention of getting another washing machine, he recalled the conversation he'd had with Hoon-i a few days ago.
* * * *
"Hyung-nim, Nak-gu Hyung-nim. Take a look at this."
"What's the fuss in the middle of eating?"
Click, click. Hoon-i scowled, clicking the mouse with his pot-lid hands.
Nak-gu, who'd stood up mid-Jjajangmyeon, went over and checked the monitor. A screen with a red lock and a countdown clock.
-oops, your files have been encrypted!
"What the hell is this red screen?"
"Sigh... Ransomware again. Those hackers tapping away at their keyboards—I oughta chop off their limbs with an axe."
Ransomware had recently started rampant against companies.
They'd just wired 5 million won in crypto to hackers not long ago, and here it was again.
"Damn, another few million down the drain. But... Nak-gu Hyung-nim."
"Yeah, what? Don't look at me like that over some pocket change. Just pull from the slush fund. Be more careful next time."
Nak-gu brushed it off nonchalantly. Even though Hoon-i had screwed up, it wasn't a big loss, no need to crush morale.
But... Hoon-i's next words.
"That's the thing. It's Bitcoin or whatever. The hackers are demanding it."
Money laundering through construction. Nak-gu's very purpose to Joo Gwae-yul.
That offhand remark from Hoon-i was enough to make Joo Gwae-yul reassess Nak-gu's usefulness.
"Look, perfect for our crew's washing machine, right? No traces, not complicated, no need to grease any officials."
"......!"
Bang. Nak-gu's fist slammed the table, shattering the brief silence.
Anxiety was the perfect catalyst to amplify misunderstandings. Ideal for faking unnecessary rage at Hoon-i.
"You punk... shut your trap with that useless crap! Hackers just suck dirty money through their noses—what's that worth anyway!"
"Oh... right?"
"Don't think stupid shit! Focus on the job. We got enough on our plates without your dumb ideas!"
Bitcoin.
That cryptocurrency threatening Nak-gu's position must never be known.
Especially not to Joo Gwae-yul, who was now loosening the strap of his white hard hat as he walked.
* * * *
"Hoo, Nak-gu, you punk. What're you thinking so hard about? Why no answer when I call?"
"N-No, Hyung-nim. I was just calculating costs for a sec..."
Nak-gu calmed his startled heart at Joo Gwae-yul's call.
His half-assed excuse worked; luckily, Joo Gwae-yul hadn't noticed the subtle emotional shift.
"Hoo, even if we take a hit on construction costs, it's fine. That's just part of money laundering. The real key is..."
He raised a finger again.
Stroking his rough grayish beard, Joo Gwae-yul turned back to gaze at the site and spoke.
"Those bullet shields whose names we'll slap on the concrete orders. Fill their headcount first."
"I've already prepped over 1,000 kids with clean records, Hyung-nim."
Hoon-i's hometown underlings, student council presidents from Yeongnam universities.
They'd diligently gathered meat shields for laundering. Foolish meat shields who couldn't imagine their credit ratings tanking.
"Good. Then... Ammunition Infra side, no issues?"
The final variable in this laundering op: Ammunition Infra's construction division.
If the bullet shields couldn't pay for subscriptions, Joo Gwae-yul's [Black Dragon Construction] would acquire those rights.
"They'd have to be crazy for any problems there."
Of course, this assumed Ammunition Infra wouldn't get stuck with the dud rights.
A precondition no normal profit-driven company would accept.
"Ammunition Infra's domestic business division... they're all bureaucrat-wannabe salarymen in mindset, Hyung-nim."
Shadows lengthening in the sunset glow.
On that somewhat chilly evening, walking the rough concrete ground, Joo Gwae-yul patted Nak-gu's shoulder.
Smacking his lips over his blood money, soon to be dragged from those pitch-black shadows into the light.
"Got it. You'll handle it fine, Nak-gu. Day's awfully short today. Let's head out."
* * * *
-Smack!
"Ow! Why'd you hit me!"
"Kim Beom-ho, you punk... missed your noona that much?"
Top floor of Yeouido K Hotel, Kim Beom-ho's lounge bar.
Kim Beom-ho wailed as she grabbed a chestnut-sized lump—Chungcheongnam-do Gongju specialty, chestnuts.
Next to him sat a woman who hit first and asked questions later.
A square plastic case dangled from her choker necklace. Inside: a badge with a clear Prosecutor's Office emblem.
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji.
"Seriously. Keep hitting and I'll call my lawyer—like I said last time..."
"Shut it! This ain't hitting... it's, uh, therapeutic equipment. Physically reforming criminals."
During the old Seo Yun-ji case investigation, whenever stuck, she'd whack Kim Beom-ho's head with file folders.
To her, who bit first without thinking, chaebol brat heirs were just re-education targets.
"Anyway. I didn't do shit today, so drink the booze I set out. Smoke my noona's cigs if you want. Whoa... hold up!"
"Fine by me. You're deflating."
Kim Beom-ho, prepping snacks, turned at the chill. Park Eun-ji, skirt hiked with feet on the chair, had a cigarette in her mouth.
Not her cheap smokes, but Kim Beom-ho's prized Cuban cigar.
"Ah! My cigar! That's rare! Imported, not available domestically!"
"Share a bit, you cheapskate. Don't know Anabada?"
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji twisted the Anabada slogan—save, share, reuse, recycle.
Did she have a shred of conscience?
She ignored Kim Beom-ho's grumbling that followed.
"Damn... you're not a prosecutor, you're straight-up a thug."
"Quiet. So, T Group corruption docs?"
"Ah, about that. Actually, not exactly..."
Zap. Laser beams shot from Prosecutor Park Eun-ji's eyes.
"You lying to me now? To me?"
A far cry from the Kim Beom-ho who'd lured her here by phone.
Behind the T Group bait-hooked Prosecutor Park Eun-ji loomed a massive evil spirit.
"Beom-ho, punk, seen movies? Lie and your hand flies off."
"Ah, wait, wait. Prosecutor Park—no, Eun-ji noona. Hear me out. There's a reason!"
Had his temple visits and merits paid off?
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji halted right at Kim Beom-ho's spread palms. At least one last excuse.
"See... some crazy bastard. No, some guy dying to meet you. Wants to date a woman like you. He's pretty handsome, I swear?"
"Ahem, why didn't you say so sooner? C'mere, my pretty Beom-ho."
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji suddenly stroked his hair.
Her prickly temper kept men fleeing, so his bullshit excuse delighted her plenty.
'This... works? For real?'
Ignoring his inner thoughts, she now ruffled his hair wildly.
Satisfied with the affection, she bombarded the seated Kim Beom-ho.
"So, how old's this handsome guy? What does he do? When's he coming?"
"Hold still. Said he'd be on time... ah, there."
Kim Beom-ho pointed to the lounge bar's dedicated elevator.
The lit red elevator display climbed from 1 upward.
"Figures, can't even be late. Coming right up."
-Ding dong! Doors opening.