Triangular Flight (4)
Every member of my organization, from the executives down to the lowliest grunt, owed me at least one life. Their own, a loved one's, or the life of an enemy they could never share the same sky with. My organization and I had resolved the problems that morality, law, and even God wouldn't touch. I'd fed their starving families and avenged grudges so deep they seemed mortal. In return, they agreed to pay with themselves. A life for a life—that was the deal.
So I had the right to order my subordinates to die.
Suyeon was the sole exception.
Ten years ago that summer, she'd shown up at my office, knelt before me, and declared she'd inherit her dead brother's debt. Back then, she was still a high school girl who hadn't quite shed her childish air. Good talent is rare. If I saw potential, I'd take in even a kid and raise them—but only if a deal could be struck. As a creditor, I rejected joint liability then, and I still do. Debts like that can't be collected that way.
So the debt she'd vowed to repay had vanished with the death of the one who'd incurred it. Even if it was illness that took him, his loyalty until the end settled the score.
"No debt... I never imagined I'd hear those words from you after all this time."
Suyeon's face was a mix of emotions as she spoke.
"Was there something lacking in me?"
"As if."
I'm not sloppy enough to keep someone inadequate close.
"Then why...?"
"Don't misunderstand. I'm not casting you out. I'm giving you a chance to rethink your position."
The situation had changed a lot since I first took her in.
"My answer is already set."
"Always so hasty."
"I'm sorry."
She didn't look sorry at all.
"Listen."
I snapped my fingers to refocus her attention.
"If the age of magic really returns, my mentor's old comrades will end up under the protection of state power. Hell, by the time I'm ready to fight, they might be the power itself. What do you think that means?"
"..."
"To rip out those old bastards' black hearts, we'll have to strip away the shell called Britain first. Scatter their military, paralyze their policing and administration, leave their imperialist stronghold defenseless at the critical moment. Make sure nothing protects them but their own strength. And to do that, I won't hold back on means or methods."
"Does that mean... terrorism?"
"Terror beyond terror. If it's possible and necessary, I'll smuggle in a nuke and detonate it. In a city of nine million, no less."
Of course, it was a low-probability scenario. But it drove my resolve home. Something like a dirty bomb might actually come into play. For sowing social chaos and draining national response capacity, the cost-performance was excellent. Easy to procure or make, and just five or six blasts would plunge all of Britain into solid disorder.
The chaos didn't even need to last long. Just long enough for a hit-and-run. I wouldn't kill indiscriminately. But I wouldn't go out of my way to minimize collateral just to lower my odds against such unforgiving foes.
"No debt to me means—"
I gave her time to chew it over before continuing.
"Unlike the others, you have the right to get off the train before it goes off the rails. You could take a safer role, one that won't dirty your hands anymore."
My chief of staff position was a fast track to senior executive. Like a subsidiary president or VP in a corporate analogy. For her, it would just accelerate a promotion that was practically guaranteed by a few years. She had the talent for it.
"...I understand, but my answer remains the same."
Suyeon's gaze was polite yet stubborn as she met my eyes. The resolve I'd tested once before, ten years ago. I remembered her crawling back to headquarters on her knees, no matter how many times I dragged her away. Threats didn't faze her; slaps didn't change her expression. I left her alone out of curiosity about how long she'd last, and she stubbornly refused water until she passed out from dehydration. Even my men watching started to waver.
Her dead brother had a good reputation in the organization. He was a shoo-in for chief of staff. That's why I accepted her. She would've died otherwise, and with that kind of determination, she seemed usable. Plus, sharing his blood, she'd overflow with talent. And she had lived up to every expectation.
"Hyungnim."
After a brief silence, Suyeon nailed it down in a calm voice.
"If you command it, I could grab a knife right now and stab every visible person—children and adults alike. So this kind of consideration is unnecessary. Even if my brother were alive here, he'd say the same."
"Suhyuk would've, sure. But he wouldn't have wanted his little sister living like this."
"...My brother's dead. And for ten years, I've been living for myself."
"I see."
"Yes."
"Fine. I won't bring it up again."
"Thank you."
Suyeon bowed deeply. I apologized over her head.
"Sorry if I made you feel slighted."
"Not at all."
She wouldn't deny it. Better to stay silent than lie—that was her way.
The conversation lapsed into awkward silence. She hesitated under my gaze, then shifted topics a bit unnaturally.
"Last night, reviewing what you said, I had a thought."
"What?"
"The world won't change overnight, so no need to rush preparations—but shouldn't we stockpile things domestically that are hard to procure in a pinch and limited in bulk? Things we can grab all at once."
"Like?"
"For example... weapons and ammo. We might not be able to get them at all later."
Spot on.
"Good point."
Telling Kyung-tae not to rush had been half because my mind was too unsettled for deep thought. On the black market, weapons and ammo were inelastic goods. Ammo especially. High priority for self-defense in a crisis. If nothing happened, we could dump them on yakuza or Southeast Asian rebels. The Philippine rebels, in particular, were buying more since their peace deal—trading disarmament for government concessions, where more guns meant more rights. Plus insurance against deal collapse. No losses in that high-margin market.
Suyeon spoke as I nodded.
"Shall I contact Daegu and set it up?"
"Yeah."
"Who should I send?"
"I'll go. It's important."
I'm the joker. My organization's ace card. No one else can negotiate while reading biosignals with their eyes like I can.
"Understood. When works best?"
"Tomorrow afternoon or the day after is fine."
"I'll check."
My domestic arms vendor was a U.S. military graft ring. We had other suppliers and in-house production, but the Yanks offered the best prices. They sold without cost concepts, and I had them near-monopolized. Started with general supplies and duty-frees, built trust over time to sensitive goods. Laundered dollars seduced NCOs and officers alike.
I waited for Suyeon to finish noting, then held out my hand.
"Let me see."
"Yes."
Her leather planner detailed my recent schedule and org ops. I knew it already, but outsiders would be lost in the slang, metaphors, personal codes, and twisted jargon.
First page had an SNS handle, burner phone, and someone else's selfie. "Please contact if found."
I glanced at the photo, handed it back.
"Your idea?"
"...Yes."
"Smart."
Suyeon pocketed it and messaged the Daegu site—minimal notice.
We discussed further investments. At 7, Kyung-tae joined, post-morning workout, text and knock.
"Morning, hyungnim. Sis is early today."
Room service again. No need for buffet with this suite's open living room. Only toast shops open now anyway.
Over post-meal tea, Suyeon asked casually.
"Hyungnim. How far should we spread the mana info?"
"Hmm."
I pondered.
"Open to those who know my secret. The rest, ease them in slowly."
"Got it."
More org members knew my oddity than you'd think. Plenty witnessed mysteries during grudges, and prepping for worst-case was core purpose. They'd block my mentor's old pals or their hunters—core forces ignorant of magic would panic. So warn them the 'real threats' might spike. No simple betrayers. Plus, futures trading needed Yeouido Kim informed—hiding from him was impossible.
Her phone buzzed. Suyeon frowned at the screen.
"Reply from the U.S. side. Fast. But..."
"But?"
"Doesn't match rank. Major Walker as lead, even after I said you'd come personally."
"That's fine."
I shrugged.
"Considering U.S. pride, a major's enough. Their majors aren't like Korean ones—different caliber."
"Still a cartel smuggling quartermaster."
"Poke that, and the deal's dead."
"..."
"Ignore the small stuff. Quick reply shows respect."
For my money, really. Surface ranks rarely match graft hierarchy—a major could be the real boss. Otherwise, why send him for me?
"Anyway, their proposed time and place?"
"Tomorrow, 6 p.m., usual spot."
"Lock it in."
"Yes."
Schedule set. On return, Incheon hotel then domestic flight ideal, but Daegu's low demand—no Singapore-Daegu direct, anyway.
I gave them half-day free till airport, killed time at the national library I'd eyed since yesterday. Late opening limited it, but the vast shelves brimmed with psychological comfort. Knowledge is power, a light in darkness—one of my core creeds.