Chapter 217
Chapter 217
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 217
Chapter Title: Ransomware(1)
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Jo Teacher.
On the third floor of Anyang Prison, Lee Jo Seok-gu was the boss of the left corridor, and his life story was too wild to sum up with just the word "dynamic."
He ruled the Jeolla region with a single blade, expanding even into parts of Chungcheong and Busan as the leader of an organized crime syndicate.
"I'm Jo Seok-gu! You bastards who wanna drag me out and chop me up!"
With brutal knife work that knew no mercy, Jo Seok-gu unified the gangs in his turf one by one.
He grew his power so fast that he started sniffing around local politics, but there was an emptiness inside him that nothing could fill.
Maybe it was closer to fear.
"Damn it, I hope I never have to smell human blood again... Eventually, I'll end up looking like one of these corpses myself."
A shadowy life where everyone devoured and was devoured.
He couldn't fully trust his seniors, juniors, peers, or even himself.
And then... the feelings that hit him every time he looked at his young son. The hollow title of leader in the criminal syndicate Snow Faction, something that couldn't even be passed down as inheritance.
On top of that.
"What's the point of swinging your sword a hundred times a day at your gut? One shout from the prosecutors, and your skull cracks open anyway."
As his organization grew, the noose of investigation tightened around his neck.
Prostitution in the red-light districts he'd seized from rival gangs. Illegal gambling with his same-age peer from the same region, Joo Gwae-yul. Even drugs smuggled in the soles of shoes by Chinese peddlers.
The underworld business always felt like walking barefoot on the blade of a guillotine.
"Damn... Can't even breathe properly. If I quit this gangster life, what the hell do I do? How do I launder all this dirty cash?"
Then came the opportunity that streaked in like a comet: finance.
After the financial crisis, he acquired a couple of failing local savings banks and barely clawed his way into the legitimate world.
Sure, he couldn't dodge every prosecutorial blade and ended up with a four-year sentence for minor charges, but Jo Seok-gu had already changed.
Into a legitimate gangster wearing the mask of a businessman.
"Heh heh heh, now if I can just get out, it's all over. I'll be the lord of the Jeolla underworld!"
Dreaming of becoming the border lord of Jeolla through his savings banks.
That's how Jo Seok-gu, counting the days until his release from Anyang Prison's third floor, now had another opportunity shining down like a beam of light.
Not just lingering as some border lord on the outskirts, but a real shot at the heart of the center.
"Lemme see... Our Han Hwa-gi headquarters director called me too?"
In the empty warden's office at Anyang Prison.
Slouched on the sleek black leather sofa, Jo Seok-gu eyed Han Hwa-gi and exhaled a long plume of gray cigarette smoke.
"You ain't callin' me out just to brag about Chairman Joo gettin' out early and taggin' me along."
"For an ex-gangster, you sure get to the point quick. I like that."
"Heh heh heh... Damn right! Feels fuckin' great! Love it!"
At Han Hwa-gi's response, Jo Seok-gu let out a wild laugh like a madman, his eyes lighting up.
His senses, honed to the extreme for survival alone, picked up the thick stench of money.
Not some piddly local savings bank—this was the smell of devouring a massive conglomerate.
Leaning forward, Jo Seok-gu flashed a bloodthirsty grin at Han Hwa-gi and opened his mouth.
"Alright then, I'll ask. What'd you call me here for?"
* * * *
Click. The metal lighter flipped open three times, and soon the warden's office filled with thick cigarette haze.
Han Hwa-gi tapped ash carelessly onto the glass tray on the table. His furrowed brow from raised eyes creased deeper as he spoke to Jo Seok-gu and Joo Gwae-yul.
"No need for long stories. Straight to the point. Parole looks possible. Hell, it's practically certain."
The last ember of a cigarette butt ground out roughly on the table's edge.
Han Hwa-gi's eyes gleamed.
That gaze... was just like a viper that had locked onto prey. The kind that wouldn't be satisfied until it swallowed everything whole, even if it meant sacrificing his own mother's life as bait.
"Someone left a parting gift on their way out for good. Looks like March 1st release."
"Parole, huh. Congrats for now."
Joo Gwae-yul crossed his arms and responded indifferently to Han Hwa-gi.
Was he deliberately trying to get under his skin?
He sank back deep into the sofa, crossing his legs as he continued.
"But you didn't call us to brag about a perfect score on a test. You must want something."
The wall clock ticked away, stretching the tension in the silence taut.
After rubbing his graying stubble several times, the parallel stares between the two men finally shattered with a crack.
"And that... has gotta be about your nephew. That dog you wanna rip apart alive."
"Ha! You catch on quick."
"But look, I'm not the type to move on revenge alone."
Thud. Joo Gwae-yul placed a single sheet of paper and a cheap ballpoint pen on the table.
Amid Jo Seok-gu's eerie chuckle from the side, he rolled the pen toward Han Hwa-gi.
"Business is business. Say we get out and snap Han Seo-jun's neck. So what do I and Jo Teacher here get out of it?"
"A whole lot. Enough to burst your bellies."
Han Hwa-gi snatched the rolling pen.
As if such formalities were beneath him, he gripped it hard, crushing the white plastic barrel as he spoke.
A line he could utter now precisely because it was something he'd once desperately craved but knew he'd never have.
"The right to devour Ammunition Group—not just the flesh, but down to the marrow."
Ammunition Group.
Not the chaotic one from the 2008 crisis, but the Ammunition Group soaring sky-high in 2012.
Drawn in by the savory meaty aroma, Joo Gwae-yul and Jo Seok-gu across from him let out involuntary gasps.
"Whoa...!"
"Heh heh heh. Man, you got some balls."
An offer impossible to refuse, like a serpent's temptation.
It came alive on the finished black-and-white sketch, colors bleeding in with each word from Han Hwa-gi, growing ever more vivid on their skin.
"Personnel decisions, subcontractor approvals, funding, audits—everything!"
Han Hwa-gi stood and extended his hand. His manic eyes burned with one thing alone... utter destruction that would consume all.
"Ammunition Group, fattened up like prime rib by that bastard Han Seo-jun you wanna kill. Let me carve it up with you. Once you're all free men."
* * * *
Must've dozed off for a bit.
After wrapping up urgent company business, he rushed straight to the VIP suite at Ammunition Medical Center.
Holding his grandmother's hand as she edged closer to death, he closed his eyes—and exhaustion crashed over him like a tidal wave.
His weary mind succumbed to sleep, only to jolt awake at Kim Won-cheol's voice.
"Whoa, thought you were headin' home, but here you are again? Our chairman's somethin' else, for real."
"Ah, you're here."
"Sigh, this is tough... Seein' someone in pain like this. Anyway."
Kim Won-cheol gazed at his grandmother with pity.
Reliving old memories from their long years together?
After a silent moment, he stepped closer, gently stroking her hand.
"Our Director's sleepin' soundly."
"Whew, let's step out for a sec. Got something to discuss."
Treatment details were largely delegated to Kim Won-cheol on the practical side.
He wanted her to suffer as little as possible, but Kim Won-cheol's view differed slightly.
"We should've gone with life extension. Aim's to keep her going as long as possible."
"Hmm..."
He shook his head, questioning the need for prolonging her painful life with extension therapy, when Kim Won-cheol waved his palms.
"Whoa, don't look at it that way. This is... Director's policy."
"Grandma's?"
"She knows better than anyone she needs to stay alive as long as possible to play the safety pin."
Safety pin role.
True enough. Her mere presence kept the paroled uncle from straying. Or at least from showing it outwardly.
"Plus, we're callin' back those two troublemakers."
The conversation shifted to Han Seo-ho and Han Seo-hu brothers.
Ordering them back to Korea was something he'd done using her name.
"Good call."
"Not sure if it was, honestly."
Kim Won-cheol scratched the back of his head in his usual habit, looking troubled as he continued.
"Feels like... we're keepin' givin' Han Hwa-gi more claws than he deserves."
"I'm giving them to him on purpose. So he can claw at my neck anytime."
"Huh...? What're you talkin' about?"
"I've been thinkin' it over. The uncle Grandma pulls out with her dying words—what'll he do next?"
Before regression, the uncle who'd kept him locked up for over a decade.
Ammunition Group torn to shreds. Clearly, the uncle had no intention of running the company properly from the start.
More interested in stuffing his pockets with every last penny than shouldering responsibility and overcoming crises.
"He's not one to sit still... but Ammunition Group's ballooned so much these past few years, right?"
And now, five times bigger than pre-regression.
Tossing a crumpled coffee can into the trash, Kim Won-cheol added his take.
"Baby elephant might be fair game, but a full-grown mammoth? No way he dares."
"Of course not. Uncle can't swallow Ammunition Group alone. That's why he'll smash it instead."
"......?"
"If he can't have it, better to shatter it and sell off the pieces."
"Whoa, hold up. Forget management rights or the group's future—he'll just break it up and sell?"
"If it's the uncle I've seen, absolutely. That's why... I called back Han Seo-ho and Han Seo-hu."
Thus, the cousins' return became not a choice, but a necessity.
To the uncle freshly out and gathering forces, his most trusted allies would be blood kin.
"Turnin' 'em into... ransomware. Two idiots who don't even know they're the ransomware."