Chapter 229
Chapter 229
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 229
Chapter Title: Money Lord (4)
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-Vroom-vroom-vroom!
August 14th. The night before Liberation Day, and biker gangs were racing around wildly, full of excitement.
The young hotshots who lived for their motorcycles were putting on impromptu stunts right in front of the K Hotel in Yeouido, playing cat-and-mouse with the cops.
Ten minutes or so after that frenzy died down, Han Seo-hu rode the elevator up to the top-floor VIP lounge.
“Hey! You made it, you made it? Man, what’s with the busy schedule? Haven’t seen your face in forever.”
“Phew, shut up and get me a drink. No, not you, Kim Beom-ho.”
Han Seo-hu flopped straight onto the sofa. He shook his head at Kim Beom-ho, who was grabbing a bottle, then pointed at one of the women with a raised finger.
“You, the bob-cut. Sit next to me and pour.”
“Oh, Han Seo-hu’s still alive. Thought you got properly neutered in Nigeria!”
“Shut your trap, asshole. Cheers! Clink!”
Maybe he was exhausted, because he started chugging the whiskey hard. Kim Beom-ho watched those signs of heavy drinking closely, then muttered under his breath, just loud enough to be barely audible.
“That temper of his is just like his old man’s. Or maybe Han Seo-jun’s got the same bite—guess it’s a family trait of the Ammunition Group Hans.”
Kim Beom-ho, who had all sorts of bad blood with the Ammunition Group.
He sipped his milder drink and recalled the conversation he’d had not long ago in the chairman’s office at Ammunition Group HQ.
‘So, what info am I supposed to get out of Han Seo-hu?’
‘After a few rounds, he spills fast.’
Thud. A small rectangular metal device placed on the table.
‘A recorder…?’
‘Record everything and bring it back.’
It was clearly a pro-grade recorder, the kind used by intelligence agencies. Its purpose was straightforward.
‘Why he went to China, who he met and how. And… the scale of the funding they’re lining up—everything.’
‘What if Seo-hu clams up?’
‘Make him talk. By any means necessary.’
Do it or else—no endless explanations, pure Ammunition man style.
Remembering that bulldozer of an order left Kim Beom-ho with no room to complain.
Sure enough, Han Seo-hu wiped the liquor from his mouth with his sleeve and looked at him.
“Ugh, but it feels good to wrap up work and come here.”
“Heard you went to China? Got back this afternoon.”
“Yeah… something like that.”
Kim Beom-ho had killer instincts for these things.
Seeing Han Seo-hu wasn’t in the mood to chat, he pulled out Plan B.
He shot a sidelong glance at the woman sitting next to Han Seo-hu, giving her the signal.
“Oppa, you look so tired.”
The trainee idol suddenly climbed on top of him and hugged him tight.
“Hey, what the hell are you—!”
“Just relax like this, oppa. Nice and easy. Okay?”
After four years living like a monk in the Nigerian jungle.
The sudden rush of her skin and scent shattered Han Seo-hu’s already booze-weakened self-control.
“Ahem… I’m beat, but this for a bit should be fine.”
“Good boy, my oppa.”
Han Seo-hu grinned happily in that position. Kim Beom-ho wore a different kind of happy grin as he refilled his glass.
“Wow, Ye-rin must really like you, Seo-hu.”
“Shut up.”
“No, seriously. Who else in the Ammunition Group has your kind of grit? Coming back from the Nigerian boonies like some flashy resurrection!”
“Why the ass-kissing today? You on something?”
“Nah, it’s just I see a bright future for you, Seo-hu. And…”
He rummaged in a paper shopping bag and pulled something out.
A pure white, ice-like crystal appeared on his palm.
“Not saying I didn’t do any, heh heh heh.”
“Hey, hey! Is that real drugs…!”
Kim Beom-ho watched Han Seo-hu freak out and thought to himself.
His life was on a leash from the Ammunition Group anyway—might as well go all in, tie up loose ends proper, and earn Han Seo-jun’s trust.
‘Screw it. Any means necessary, right? I’m just following orders…’
Thud. He split a chunk in half, slipped it under his tongue, and let it melt.
His eyes went wide, and a euphoric smile spread across his face like he’d become a new man.
“Perfect, hits just right… Barely any side effects, refreshes you like crazy. See? Not so bad.”
“Y-Yeah…?”
“It’s not a hallucinogen. Clears your head sharp—like you’re fully awake. Especially…”
Tap-tap. With a playful grin, he pointed between his legs.
“Great for guys. No words for it.”
“…….”
Feeling the vibe, Kim Beom-ho wrapped his arm around the model beside him.
“Anyway, have fun with Ye-rin. The rest of the stuff? Up to you.”
Creak. The door shut.
Han Seo-hu stared at the baggie of drugs.
Maybe all the pent-up urges from four years snapped at once. Without thinking, he reached for it.
“Screw it.”
“Oh my, oppa. If we’re doing it, together.”
The trainee idol snatched the drugs from his hand and dumped them in her mouth.
She pocketed the recorder, then kissed Han Seo-hu, melting the sticky goo onto his tongue.
“I’ll show you heaven. Up on the clouds.”
* * *
The next day, Liberation Day evening. Incheon Airport.
“Ugh, my head’s killing me.”
Han Seo-hu waited in a suit at the arrivals hall.
“But honestly, this stuff’s side effects aren’t bad. Just a bit of a memory blur.”
Waiting for Yan Long from Shanghai Capital, he rubbed his temples and pieced together yesterday.
‘I’m the guy! Who dragged in a 1-trillion deal from China!’
Fragmented memories.
‘Drinks with Director Yan Long! Sauna with James Wang! Did it all!’
High on drugs in front of a girl, he’d blurted out key details without a care.
“Sniff, might’ve bragged a bit… and said some dumb shit.”
He was a little worried, but brushed it off.
Just some cheap slut he looked down on. And they’d done drugs together, so she probably didn’t remember much.
If not for the recorder in her back pocket.
“Sigh, whatever. New bosses come first. Oh… there he is.”
Right then.
The airport arrivals gate slid open.
Prominent cheekbones, narrow eyes. The short-haired man in a black suit walked straight toward Han Seo-hu.
His name was none other than.
“Welcome, Director Yan Long! I’m here to pick you up!”
“And Honorary Advisor Han Hwa-gi?”
“He’s waiting at home. Hop in. Oh, those guys back there…?”
Dozens of rough-looking Chinese men behind Yan Long.
Yan Long eyed the scarred, tattooed thugs like hunting dogs from home, replying flatly.
“Hwa-gi’s got a lot of worries, huh? Since we’re mixing in Korean gangsters.”
“Ah…!”
Safe.
Han Hwa-gi and Han Seo-hu, father and son, now fully safe from threats by the paroled gangsters.
With vague hopes this could go well, Yan Long got in the car and ordered.
“Let’s roll. Time to tear the Ammunition Group to shreds.”
* * *
Ammunition Group HQ, Chairman’s Office.
Kim Beom-ho stood at attention before me. I plugged in my earbuds deep, sank into my chair, and started the recording.
The cleanup was bigger than I’d expected.
“Phew, what a disaster waiting to happen. Our big bro Seo-hu.”
With my tired sigh came Han Seo-hu’s slurred voice.
‘James Wang says he’s short on cash right now! Thought we’d really get knifed by gangsters and die with Dad!’
Seemed my savings bank bombing hit them hard.
Dried-up funds. Even Shanghai Capital wasn’t fully rebuilt, short on cash.
But.
‘Those North Korean pig bastards’ secret accounts—urk! Says we can borrow some?’
A variable I never saw coming.
The Kim family’s secret Macau accounts in North Korea. They’d reached further than anyone thought.
‘Chosunjok and Chongryon together… private equity fund, heh heh heh.’
Zzzzt, the file glitched—battery dying.
Still… I knew now. How all my enemies would come at my throat.
After the full recording, I fixed Kim Beom-ho with a cold stare.
“Anyone else know about this?”
“Just me and Ye-rin. Swear it!”
Kim Beom-ho gestured wildly, pleading innocence.
I tossed him a card loaded with 10 billion won.
“For the extra trouble.”
“Thanks!”
“Ye-rin, right? That trainee would probably love a proper debut through Nuclear Weapons Entertainment. Anyway, this job.”
I glared at him clutching the card, raising one finger to my lips.
“Mess it up… you know what happens?”
“Hell no, I ain’t going back to jail. Nigeria’s a hard pass. Dream’s to be a punk till I drop.”
Grinning like an idiot, he bolted out.
Kim Won-cheol, watching from beside me, picked up a chocolate and spoke.
“Kim Beom-ho reeled in a monster. What’s the occasion?”
“Tell me about it. Beyond expectations. Didn’t think he’d use drugs…”
EarBuds back in.
Listening to messed-up Han Seo-hu, I frowned.
This… way more headache than I thought.
“Keywords alone tell the plan. Shanghai Capital’s cash shortage, North Korea’s secret accounts, private equity.”
“Ugh, a real pain. Good news is, they can’t move fast?”
“Laundering’ll take months. Track the funds, we time the counter.”
“That’s our deadline. Need defense funds till then.”
From Han Seo-hu’s keywords: Chosunjok and Chongryon.
They’d use their networks to launder North Korea’s Kim family slush funds in Macau.
To hit me, tied to the president, timing would be…
December. Election time. About 5 trillion won needed by then.
5 trillion, North Korea… North Korea?
“Huh? What? You got an idea?”
Kim Won-cheol read my face, his googly eyes on me.
Not sure if it’d work… but just maybe.
For rookie supreme leader Kim Jong-un, fresh in the top seat, it might.
Collecting my thoughts, I spoke.
“Something that popped up thinking about North Korea…”