Chapter 148
Chapter 148
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Living and Dying by Loyalty (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Dark night. No, a time closer to dawn.
In the pitch-black darkness that had settled coldly, a small flicker of light leaked out from the glass window of the dimly lit office with the lights off, then quickly vanished.
“Damn… you scared me. What’s with this light?”
The rustle of a fabric curtain being drawn, followed by sweat drops hitting the floor.
Nak-gu, with a flashlight clenched in his teeth, was rummaging through Joo Gwae-yul’s office in search of something.
“That’s right… Big Brother. No, no. A snake like Joo Gwae-yul would be the weird one if he didn’t have at least one secret safe.”
A landscape painting from the Song Dynasty.
He pulled the entire framed painting off the wall, and a faint gap caught Nak-gu’s eye.
With a creak, he wedged a plastic card into the gap and yanked hard. A dull thud echoed as the outer door of the secret safe swung open.
“Found it. Get to work quick, sir investigator.”
“Let me see… Ah, an old mechanical safe. Standard security setup, nothing too tricky. Should take about twenty minutes, so keep watch.”
“Please make it fast. You’re not even doing this with an official warrant, sir. Let’s wrap it up and get out.”
“Shut your trap and stay back. You’re distracting me.”
A prosecutor’s investigator dispatched unofficially at the order of Prosecutor Park Eun-ji, a man with four kids.
Nak-gu crossed his arms, watching as the man, stethoscope in his ears, fiddled away with clicks and clacks.
Then his gaze drifted to the severed stump of his pinky finger, now throbbing with a dull ache where it brushed his forearm.
Gripping the icy, painful tip, Nak-gu blankly recalled the events of a few days ago.
The incident at that seafood restaurant by Incheon Port, with the salty sea breeze blowing in.
* * * *
‘Nak-gu, was it? It’s nice to talk face-to-face like this… with the sea breeze clearing my head.’
That day, at the Incheon Port seafood joint, the voice that reached Nak-gu’s ears. The Ammunition Group chairman, far younger than he’d imagined.
Yet his voice carried none of the bravado or arrogance typical of men his age.
Instead, he spoke with the careful precision of placing stones on a Go board, gradually tightening the noose around Nak-gu.
Was it that pressure?
His patience worn thin, Nak-gu blurted out his prepared speech, ignoring the context.
‘Drinking on a construction site. You’re right, we failed to manage it properly. That’s why we’ve brought an alternative solution…’
‘No, no. Sorry to cut you off, but you’re under a misunderstanding right now, Mr. Nak-gu.’
Something felt off from the start, like a button fastened wrong.
A chilling premonition settled at his fingertips. Slowly lifting his head, Nak-gu’s tension snapped.
The man’s next words proved he saw through everything.
‘Heukryong Construction.’
‘……!’
‘You think I don’t know it’s a mob money-laundering front and called you here anyway?’
‘How did you…’
‘I know it all. The Iljeong faction based in southern Gyeonggi, illegal private gambling sites, and so on.’
Mobsters. Money laundering.
Everything Nak-gu had hidden deep in the shadows… all dragged into the light in an instant.
Nak-gu trembled like a leaf. His eyes fixed on the Ammunition Group chairman, who downed the liquid in his glass and furrowed his brow.
He made it look like he was drinking liquor instead of water.
‘Ugh, well, we’ve got mountains to discuss, but right now, this seems most urgent for you, doesn’t it, Nak-gu?’
Casually, the Ammunition Group chairman held up two fingers in the air.
Just moments ago, he’d exposed Nak-gu’s dirty secrets: mob ties and money laundering. And now… he was dragging up the abyss even deeper, something Nak-gu couldn’t breathe a word of to anyone.
‘Joo Gwae-yul and Hoon-i.’
‘……!’
‘The two plotting to put you in a stew pot. Am I wrong?’
No mistakes.
Crystal clear, the words carved into Nak-gu’s chest like a dagger.
So he kept his head bowed in silence for a long while. He only looked up after a woman sitting beside the Ammunition Group chairman, who’d been listening quietly, spoke.
‘Heh heh heh. You’re screwed, you squid bastard. Here, no matter how bundled up you dress, they strip you bare.’
‘Hey, it’s Nak-gu, not squid.’
‘Squid or Nak-gu, whatever. With that face like a grub worm, what’s the difference? Anyway, heave-ho.’
The bewildering conversation reaching Nak-gu’s ears.
But what followed was even more shocking.
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji yanked the plastic name tag from her chest lanyard and tossed it at Nak-gu.
‘Ugh, kid. Sis is that kind of person. Read the room. Okay?’
‘Seoul Central District Prosecutors’ Office… Prosecutor!’
‘Heh, don’t freak out, boy. Now you get how things work here. So our little squid just runs one errand for us.’
Satisfied with the shock? Or pre-arranged? She jerked her chin toward the Ammunition Group chairman beside her.
‘Well, just as the prosecutor says. One simple task.’
The Ammunition Group chairman tilted his small liquor glass briefly.
After sufficient buildup, he tossed something to Nak-gu and spoke.
‘All the info on Joo Gwae-yul’s private gambling site. Exactly where in Thailand, what they’re doing, how they launder money, organizational structure, etc.’
‘…….’
Nak-gu felt utterly exposed.
Han Seo-jun and Park Eun-ji. They knew everything.
Where the organization’s funds came from, how they raised and laundered them into clean money.
‘Hand it over neatly organized with solid evidence to Prosecutor Park Eun-ji and me here.’
Only then did Nak-gu notice the green passport.
Blank as if urging a fresh start, with a single ticket slipped inside.
‘Incheon Port to China ferry. With this, no more fingers getting chopped off, right?’
* * * *
Seongnam old town, officetel building.
Hoon-i in a van with windows painted black. Unlike usual, he had a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Pulled-low baseball cap, hoodie zipped to the neck. Red-painted work gloves and a fabric mask.
Knock knock knock!
Just as the car filled with acrid smoke, a light tap on the window.
“Big Bro Hoon-i, all clear.”
“Can we get in? Escape routes checked?”
A mobster who seemed to be Hoon-i’s underling nodded through the window crack.
“Security geezer’s the only one left besides us. Old man’s beat, snoring away in his chair.”
Hoon-i checked his watch: 3 a.m.
Nodding, he grabbed the toolbox from the passenger seat and stepped out.
A meat cleaver with its handle wrapped in black industrial tape, and bags of large plastic pouches inside.
“Whew… Let’s do this. Finish in five minutes, cleanup too.”
“Yes, Bro.”
Nak-gu’s place was on the fourth floor.
Hoon-i and his trailing mobster climbed the stairs swiftly but silently.
“…….”
Sweat beaded on the hand gripping the toolbox tighter.
A few days ago, Joo Gwae-yul heard about Hoon-i’s new money-laundering method: Bitcoin. He assigned Hoon-i oversight of the organization, saying:
‘Nak-gu knows too much. Excess knowledge breeds something. The twin brothers: silence and betrayal.’
‘…….’
‘Usually, silence doesn’t come easy. Same for Nak-gu.’
Joo Gwae-yul, flashing his trademark affable smile laced with chilling menace. Pointing to the wooden box with the severed finger, he added:
‘That poor finger gets lonely at night. Begs for its owner to join it. You’ll have to grant the wish, Hoon-i.’
Then he vanished, hands behind his back.
Like chasing that ghostly shadow, Hoon-i now ascended step by step.
Finally, the door came into view.
“404. Here, Bro.”
“Wrap a cloth around it so the door lock doesn’t beep.”
His underling’s trembling fingers punched in the code.
The blue glow from the lock mesmerized like will-o’-the-wisp.
Hoon-i already clutched a cleaver from the toolbox.
“Let’s make it clean… you bastard Nak-gu.”
Shoes on, Hoon-i strode inside.
Normally, Nak-gu would have the living room TV on, half-reclined on the sofa.
But.
“Bro Hoon-i… Not in the bedroom either. Bathroom doors all open.”
“Could be hiding like a cornered rat kid. You check the closets?”
“Yeah. Empty inside. Clothes gone… Looks like Nak-gu the slippery eel bolted after sniffing it out.”
Forced to flip the lights, the scene was obvious.
The impeccably tidy, empty apartment. Hoon-i sighed in frustration.
“That slippery bastard Nak-gu…”
“Better pull back first and report to Big Bro, right?”
Suppressing rising anger, Hoon-i agreed.
Nak-gu couldn’t easily escape the Iljeong faction’s net while on Korean soil, so he calmly followed the advice.
“Hm? What’s this, all these missed calls?”
Back in the van. Hoon-i’s phone tossed on the passenger seat. It had rung off the hook—dozens of missed calls, battery half drained.
-Missed Calls: Joo Gwae-yul (23)
“Something big’s gone down for sure.”
Right then, the phone lit up.
The screen glowed red with unease: Joo Gwae-yul calling for the 24th time.
“Yes, Big Bro. It’s Hoon-i.”
-Where are you! What the hell are you doing, Hoon-i!
“Came down to southern Gyeonggi to clean up Nak-gu… Was just about to call. What’s up?”