Gyeollo (5)
It had the tag on the back, but that was all bullshit. Kang Jaeha let out a quiet sigh when Lee Chanhoo showed up, dropping his voice as if he’d been born wearing a suit. Did that bastard even like women? Maybe not. Or maybe he had, once.
Jaeha couldn’t remember for sure.
He’d never poked into his mercenary subordinates’ private lives in the first place. Still, now that he thought about it, Lee Chanhoo’s reaction when Ha Yeonji had come up had been a little strange.
Jaeha smiled faintly, waiting to see how Chanhoo would react, and Chanhoo—apparently oblivious to the tag—looked at Ha Yeonji and gave her a thin smile.
“Why are you so surprised?”
Quit lowering your voice already. As Jaeha muttered to himself, Ha Yeonji gave Lee Chanhoo a slow scan from head to toe. Then she narrowed her brows.
“What, you came over too?”
“Yeah. I came over. I’m the number one, the first one to meet the commander.”
Ha Yeonji lightly shoved Chanhoo’s shoulder.
“Could you back up a little? You’re kind of close.”
“We’re not even that close. Don’t be dramatic.”
“Honestly, I was a little excited, but it’s a shame the first one I ran into was you. Are there no other guys?”
“Don’t act like you’re not glad to see me.”
Ha Yeonji let out a sigh as if she were already tired of the conversation.
“Is that what you normally wear? Why are you in a suit?”
“It’s my battle uniform, in my own way. Better to look sharp than be as comfortable as you are.”
“What are you even talking about?”
It was impossible to tell whether they were close or about to start a fight. But Ha Yeonji wasn’t letting her guard down around Lee Chanhoo.
He’s pretty much the same wherever he is. Even now he looks harmless, but if he goes to war his eyes go dead and he runs wild. Maybe he’s the most dangerous type of all.
Just then, Jaeha’s low voice cut in between them.
“Sit down, both of you. If you’re going to fight, do it outside.”
The first to move was Lee Chanhoo.
“Who’s fighting? We’re not kids.”
Then Ha Yeonji followed.
The three of them took seats at a six-person table, with Ha Yeonji across from Jaeha. After glancing at him, she looked around the MEG office.
“So this really is the hideout, huh?”
“Close enough.”
“Oh—what kind of place is this, then?”
“Too early to tell you that. I don’t know what you’re thinking yet.”
“Yeah, fair enough.”
“Got any questions?”
“Of course I do. If I ask, will you tell me?”
“Depends.”
“Hmm—”
With a grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes, Ha Yeonji spoke again.
“Kim Hoyeon came over too, right?”
“He did.”
“Figures. He lost his mind, and the commander took him out.”
“Not necessarily.”
“······”
Still wearing that faint smile, Ha Yeonji stared at Kang Jaeha before speaking again.
“That woman’s voice I heard when I met the commander. Is that real? The thing about dying if you break ‘Absolute Obedience’.”
“It’d be more certain if you tried it yourself, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“So Kim Hoyeon mouthed off to the commander and got himself killed. What are you planning to do with me?”
Jaeha crossed his legs.
“I’m not planning to do anything in particular. It’s your choice.”
“My choice?”
“Yeah. If you’d rather not see me anymore, wave goodbye and leave. You can live a quiet life from here on out. I won’t touch you.”
“And if I want to keep seeing you?”
“Then you’ll have to do it properly. As one of us.”
He meant it. Just like when he’d first met Lee Chanhoo, if Ha Yeonji wanted freedom, he’d let her go. Of course, he was also sizing her up at that very moment—her gaze, her bearing, the air she carried.
If her eyes had already gone rotten like Kim Hoyeon’s, I’d have to clean it up.
Fortunately, Ha Yeonji was rational. She wasn’t the type hungering for blood.
She might actually be adapting even better than Lee Chanhoo.
That was probably because, back in the mercenary group, Ha Yeonji had been part of the scout unit, where her work centered on reconnaissance rather than slaughter. But even if she hadn’t been a scout, humans instinctively chose survival when the environment changed. Unless they were an aberration like Kim Hoyeon, murder wasn’t exactly an efficient way to survive in this world.
“Ha Yeonji.”
When Jaeha called her name, she clutched her head with both hands.
“That’s weird. It’s weird hearing the commander say my real name. It kind of tingles. This feeling is just strange.”
“I’m building something here. It’s still at the foundation stage, but I’m looking pretty far ahead. In the end, it won’t be that different from the other world.”
“Keep going.”
“Obviously there won’t be any bloodbaths or wars. Instead, money and power will be the focus. That sort of thing. The world we’re living in has changed.”
“So you’re saying you’re putting together a new mercenary group here. Taking care of the ones who came over.”
“You could see it that way.”
Jaeha uncrossed his legs and asked her quietly, “Are you in?”
What would Ha Yeonji do? Ask him to let her go? Unexpectedly, her answer was sharp and immediate.
“Of course. Don’t leave me out, or I’ll follow you.”
This time Lee Chanhoo cut in, sounding oddly like he was mimicking Jaeha’s way of speaking.
“Be sure. If you’re only thinking about it halfway before joining, it’d be better to just leave.”
“What’s with the lowered voice? And if I did it halfway, I might die, right? You think I’d make some lazy choice then? Honestly, in this world, you’re dangerous too, sure, but the most dangerous one to me is the commander.”
“···If you betray him, or even do something close to it—”
“You don’t do it either. Besides, if you betray him or rebel, you’re screwed anyway, right?”
“Hmph.”
Lee Chanhoo let out a low hum and narrowed his already thin eyes even more. It meant he’d be watching. Ha Yeonji snorted and turned her attention back to Jaeha.
“To be blunt, whether it’s your world or this one, the commander is scary. You’ve even got that ‘Absolute Obedience’ thing hanging over people and all.”
“But?”
“Honestly, both the other world and this one feel similar to me. Being with the commander gets my blood pumping. A little fear is good too—it keeps me sharp. So let me in too.”
Jaeha made his decision just as quickly.
“Fine, then.”
“Yes! So I’m an early member too?”
“You’re a founding member.”
Interest and excitement lit up Ha Yeonji’s eyes almost at once. Seeing that, Jaeha asked her again.
“What’s your ability?”
At the word “ability,” Ha Yeonji looked back and forth between Jaeha and Chanhoo. Then her smile deepened.
“I can smell whether someone’s lying.”
And then she explained her ability in detail to the increasingly curious Jaeha and Lee Chanhoo.
“Mm—if the other person’s telling the truth, it smells sweet. If they’re lying, it smells rotten. Not in every conversation, though—if I activate the ability when I want to, it works like that.”
She can smell lies? Then she must’ve had that ability back in the other world too, like Lee Chanhoo. Jaeha folded his arms, already deciding that her ability was useful as well.
“What are the conditions?”
“Conditions? Well, first, I need physical contact with the other person to use it. Just once is enough. And—ah! It’s not like I can smell truth or lies forever. I use the ability when I want to, and then after maybe two or three exchanges, that’s it.”
“How many times a day can you use it?”
“Once a day, per target.”
The conditions felt similar to Lee Chanhoo’s Search. Ha Yeonji shrugged.
“It’s not that amazing, is it?”
“No, it’s plenty useful. Just being able to discern lies can change a situation in an instant. You can read an opponent’s strategy, prepare ahead of time, and build countermeasures.”
Depending on how it was used, Ha Yeonji’s ability had limitless potential, just like Chanhoo’s. Jaeha stroked his chin.
Separate, these abilities are useful. But the real thing is when they all gather together.
They already possessed powers ordinary people didn’t have, and once those powers came together, the synergy would be enormous. So far there was only Chanhoo and Ha Yeonji, but the more subordinates he gathered, the more destructive force they’d accumulate.
And of course, the one commanding them, the one giving the orders, would be their commander, Kang Jaeha.
Then Lee Chanhoo asked Ha Yeonji, “What do you call your ability?”
“Why would I call it anything? It’s just an ability.”
“You never named it? Then I’ll name it for you. Smell—how about Smell? Since you smell lies.”
“What, that’s lame. Call it whatever you want, then. But what’s your ability called?”
“Mine’s Search.”
Lee Chanhoo gave her the rundown on his ability. Ha Yeonji’s already large eyes widened even more.
“Hey, you used it on me too, didn’t you? That Search thing or whatever.”
“I did. I had to investigate you.”
“···If you do it again, I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t use it again from now on, but if the commander tells me to, what am I supposed to do?”
“Take the tag off your jacket, idiot.”
“What?!”
Only then did Chanhoo realize it and hurriedly take off his suit jacket. Ha Yeonji looked at him with deep disgust, then suddenly leaned in close to Jaeha. He caught the hint of her scent and the sparkle in her eyes.
“But, commander. To be honest, I used my ability the moment I saw you.”
Chanhoo, who was removing the tag, cut in.
“Call it Smell already, if it’s that easy.”
“Damn it, fine. Smell.”
With a brow still furrowed, Ha Yeonji shot Jaeha a sidelong grin.
“I used Smell on the commander, but why doesn’t my ability work on you?”
The answer came from Lee Chanhoo, who had shoved the removed tag into his pocket.
“Because he’s the commander. My Search doesn’t work on him either.”
“······”
After staring at Chanhoo for a moment, Ha Yeonji asked, “You just bought that suit recently, didn’t you?”
“No. I already had it. I bought it a while back—I just never took the tag off.”
Ha Yeonji pinched her nose, her face twisting up.
“Gross. So you did buy it new and you’re lying about it.”
“Ah.”
Chanhoo flinched as he remembered Ha Yeonji had shoved his shoulder earlier. The first physical contact. That meant the condition for her ability had been met. Narrowing his eyes, he muttered meaningfully, “If you’re going to do that, I might have to watch you shower.”
For a brief instant, he could see not only her location but that exact moment, and Ha Yeonji got goose bumps all over her body.
“You bastard. Try it for real and you’re dead.”
The war between them broke out. After a bit of conflict, they reached a tolerable compromise and settled down again. Then Ha Yeonji clung to Jaeha and said,
“But, commander, you’re seriously insane, you know that? Our abilities don’t even work on you.”
She gave him a thumbs-up.
“You’re like the ultimate predator.”
Jaeha snorted and had her sit properly before explaining a few things: what he was doing now, the direction MEG was headed, its relationship with Leon Entertainment, and the work currently underway.
“What about the mercenary group members?”
“I’m still looking.”
“And if another bastard like Kim Hoyeon shows up? Or someone worse?”
“Then I’ll deal with them.”
Ha Yeonji listened seriously as Jaeha gave her an order.
“For now, keep working as a reporter.”
“But as part of MEG?”
“Right.”
He meant for her to remain a founding member of MEG while continuing her work as a reporter. Jaeha had no intention of keeping all his subordinates glued to his side like Lee Chanhoo. It was the same as in the mercenary days. As long as they belonged to MEG, they could keep operating out in the world without issue. The more people he gathered, the more the number of MEG members would spread through the world.
Of course, if MEG gets bigger, I’ll have to call them all in eventually.
By then, Ha Yeonji could be given a title to oversee marketing, since she’d once worked as a reporter.
By the time she’d heard everything, Ha Yeonji’s cheeks were faintly red.
“Wow. This is already fun.”
At the same time, in a playground.
Because it was pitch-black night, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Only one person was there. A man riding a swing all by himself. If a passerby saw him, they’d be startled by his grim, rough face. It was Oh Jongman.
He was deep in thought. It was because of Kang Jaeha, the manager he’d met before. What he’d said over the phone had weighed heavily on him. That he should try being a writer instead of an actor. He’d thought about it for a long time after that, but Oh Jongman still hadn’t reached a clear answer.
The biggest reason was fear.
On top of that, his wife and child’s livelihood depended on him, so of course he couldn’t make a decision lightly. Even so, the word writer kept hovering in Oh Jongman’s mind.
“So I really do have to give up acting.”
His limits as an actor were painfully obvious. He hadn’t been able to let go of that dream easily. He’d been avoiding the truth all this time. But after Jaeha’s merciless advice, Oh Jongman was finally forced to see himself clearly.
Whether he turned toward writing or not, acting was over for him now.
In fact, every audition he’d gone to after speaking with Kang Jaeha had been a complete failure.
His choices had been narrowed down to retirement or writing.
Still grim, Oh Jongman stood up from the swing. Soon after, he entered a two-room apartment. The place was quiet, but his wife emerged rubbing her eyes.
“Honey, you’re home? You worked hard today too.”
She patted Oh Jongman on the shoulder as he took off his shoes. At that moment, emotion surged up in him, and he pulled her into an embrace. She didn’t ask him why. He held her for several minutes before finally speaking.
“I’m thinking of quitting acting.”
“······”
“And there’s something else I’ve been worried about.”
Oh Jongman told her what he’d been struggling with all this time, and what Kang Jaeha had said to him. A writer? His wife clearly hadn’t expected that at all and was surprised, but she calmed down quickly.
“Oppa.”
“Yeah.”
“I understand why you’re torn. But wouldn’t it be better to try?”
“···It might be harder than making a comeback as an actor.”
“Would it kill you? So what if it does? For the first time in ages, someone’s finally recognized you, hasn’t that manager of yours? You know better than anyone that there aren’t many people like him.”
His wife took Oh Jongman’s hand.
“And I liked actor Oh Jongman, sure, but writer Oh Jongman sounds pretty cool to me too.”
Then, several days later—day six.
The location was near Chungju Lake. A dozen or so members of the filming crew had gathered where the lake stretched into view. It was the Gyeollo team. Today’s shoot was mostly solo shots for An Jihee, while other actors like Yoon Dayeon spent most of their time waiting around.
But Yoon Dayeon, sitting in a folding chair, didn’t grumble the way she used to.
Watching her, Kang Jaeha smiled faintly without making it obvious.
Yeah. She’s holding it in.
Lately, Yoon Dayeon’s “crazy psycho” streak had calmed down quite a bit. She still snapped and bristled, but it was a big change.
Then—
Buzz, buzzzzz.
Jaeha’s phone gave a long vibration. A call. Checking the screen, he saw it was Oh Jongman. Jaeha walked a little away from the filming set and answered.
“Yes, Mr. Oh Jongman.”
There was strength in Oh Jongman’s voice over the phone.
“Manager. I’m going to try writing.”
Jaeha’s mouth curved slightly. He made plans to meet Oh Jongman, and the moment the call ended, he phoned Lee Chanhoo. Chanhoo answered almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting.
“Yes, loyal and faithful.”
“There’s a man named Oh Jongman.”
“Oh Jongman?”
Jaeha gave Chanhoo the essentials about him. Lee Chanhoo understood at once and asked back,
“Ah—yes. So?”
“Prepare the contract. We’re bringing Oh Jongman into MEG.”
“Huh? We’re taking care of him right away? But can that even happen? Isn’t Oh Jongman still signed to Leon? His contract period probably isn’t over.”
“It is. But that’s as an actor.”
Jaeha explained his thinking.
“Oh Jongman the writer signing with MEG is a separate matter. It has nothing to do with his acting contract.”
He was going to make Oh Jongman MEG’s first writer.