Chapter 44: A Vicious Dog Should Be Locked in a Cage!
Chapter 44: A Vicious Dog Should Be Locked in a Cage!
My prediction, built on years of working at a motel, was accurate.
Starting exactly at 5 p.m., a flood of short-stay guests came in, and the rooms filled to capacity.
After the recent terror and shooting incidents had left the motel deserted, a warm breeze finally returned to business.
The male cleaning team made up of Isu Gang juniors couldn’t even think about cleaning strictly by the manual, and the female cleaning team—experiencing a day this busy for the first time since being hired—had no time to rest.
I organized the parking lot, made checkout calls, and guided waiting guests into rooms in order. We had more guests than on a typical busy Saturday.
The small motel lobby was packed with waiting guests, all with flushed faces from drinking during the day. Even couples who normally hated running into others in the lobby were smiling brightly at each other today and chanting for the Republic of Korea.
Business was this good.
Even 2002 probably wasn’t this good.
In Room 102, Bella’s room, Cheolmin, Bella, Seorin, and Lauren were having chicken and beer, and Cheolmin was still so moved that he kept tearing up.
He was a hard-to-understand guy.
“Chan!”
At that moment, the owner and the manager, each dragging a large suitcase, tried to enter the motel but were startled by the lobby full of waiting guests.
“Oh, you’re here? I’m busy right now! Please process the next waiting guest’s payment and head to Room 307.”
It was obvious the manager and owner had been at Incheon Airport since morning or last night. They hesitated, put their suitcases in the office, and then disappeared somewhere.
It looked like they were going out for a drink.
Meanwhile, silence filled the U.S. Pentagon.
“There’s a report saying it’s highly unlikely the telekinetic user is Choi Cheolmin.”
“How does that make sense? Then who on earth is it?”
“As initially suspected, it’s increasingly likely Choi Cheolmin is a member of a secret organization hiding in Korea. During the real-time China–Korea West Sea clash, he reportedly watched the news in extreme excitement and enthusiasm. There were no signs of him controlling missiles with telekinesis.”
“So you’re saying it’s the work of a Korean secret group that slipped past our surveillance?”
“Yes. But it’s also certain he’s connected to them.”
“Putting that aside—what we saw today, is that even realistically possible? That’s power beyond a nation’s military!”
“That’s correct. If you look at this footage, South Korea’s Hyunmu-4 ballistic missile, weighing up to two tons, flew to China without any propulsion. In other words, any country’s missiles—including America’s—could be picked up and thrown at will. Meanwhile, China’s attacks never inflicted meaningful damage on Korea. Missiles fired from the Chinese mainland and even naval gunfire all either missed or turned back and struck their own side.”
Seeing what they had only considered a possibility happen in reality was hard for the Pentagon to believe.
And it wasn’t just the U.S.
From China, which declared sudden surrender, to Japan, European nations, and Russia—everyone was shocked by what they witnessed today. They agonized over how to respond to Korea’s incomprehensible asymmetric power.
“If I’d known this would happen, we shouldn’t have pulled our forces back. If we’d stepped in fully, we’d be the victorious nation.”
The U.S. president smacked his lips in regret.
“But then they might not have revealed their power. Because we pulled out, there’s a high chance they showed themselves fully. We should consider confirming their existence a success.”
“What’s the chance that group or individual holds a grudge against the U.S. for pulling back right before the war?”
“It’s possible, but unlikely they’d become hostile over that alone. According to agents attached to Choi Cheolmin, he feels pride in his country after today’s victory and gratitude toward the U.S. as a reliable ally.”
“Good. Then plant as much pro-American sentiment in Choi Cheolmin as possible. And push harder to recruit him—use honey traps or lobbying if needed.”
“That’s already the top priority for our embedded agents.”
Inside the Pentagon, the leadership of the world’s strongest nation desperately hoped Choi Cheolmin would quickly hit it off with a U.S. agent.
That unknown power—or asymmetric force—they possessed was too tempting.
“And since military force won’t work, tell analysts to draft a strategy to bind Korea with economic sanctions.”
The U.S. president spoke coldly.
“Given the civilian casualties in China far exceed expectations, we can leverage that angle.”
“Good. A vicious dog should be locked in a cage or put on a leash!”
“Hahaha! What did I say! I told you not to worry!”
The president, who had been pale and trembling all morning, now boomed confidently at the cabinet.
With wavering policies, suspicions of Chinese lobbying, complaints about losing North Korea to the U.S., and the black mark of insisting just hours before a nuclear threat that nothing would happen, his approval rating had hit rock bottom.
He was on the verge of impeachment.
But from today on, his ratings wouldn’t fall.
In fact, it was certain he would surpass any previous president’s approval.
He was the first South Korean president to achieve victory in war.
He might be recorded as a great figure in history books for hundreds of years.
If reunification followed, he might be remembered like Kim Yu-sin of the Three Kingdoms unification.
It was the greatest achievement of his political career.
“Congratulations, Mr. President. This is the result of your wise leadership.”
A ruling-party cabinet member fawned while rubbing his hands.
Other ministers gave bitter smiles but didn’t object. They too had thought the situation was hopeless and hadn’t expected it to resolve this well.
“What is China saying?”
“They’re proposing reconciliation in exchange for war reparations—about 200 trillion won. They ask that further military threats be refrained from.”
Two hundred trillion.
An enormous sum, but the president thought this was the time to be greedy.
“What nonsense. War reparations are a given! Tell them to return territory from Mount Baekdu to Gando! Otherwise, they’ll face a rain of fire!”
“Pardon? Gando territory?”
The foreign minister’s eyes widened.
Recovering Gando was a massive demand.
“You saw how the Chinese president looked on broadcast! Go big. Even if we don’t get it, we push now. And use the media to promote our stance!”
Then the defense minister stepped in.
“Your view is excellent, Mr. President. But we must address one point first. It wasn’t our military that struck China.”
“What do you mean? They said Hyunmu missiles hit the Chinese mainland!”
“That’s true, but we didn’t fire them. They lifted on their own, like a ghost grabbed them, and flew to China.”
“A ghost? That makes no sense!”
The president frowned and snapped.
“It must be U.S. technology. Remember when a nuclear missile headed for Seoul flew into space? It’s the same situation.”
“The Americans ran once the war started. U.S. Forces Korea and those in the North all evacuated outside artillery range. Why would they do this?”
“Exactly. They pretended to pull out, then struck China with new technology behind the scenes. Likely to deny involvement later for diplomacy. Regardless, today’s Chinese civilian casualties are astronomical. Even initial estimates exceed several million. The Battle of Stalingrad had about two million dead, the largest in history—but today’s clash may surpass that. Global condemnation will be severe. The U.S. handed us the villain role for image management.”
The president thought for a moment, then spoke decisively.
“If the U.S. is stepping back, we’ll take the villain role! Demand Gando and 300 trillion won in reparations! Give them three days. No answer in three days, and we resume attacks!”
“But that’s…”
All the cabinet members showed discomfort.
What the president proposed was bluffing—something for a casino, not international diplomacy after a war.
But after fighting a war, what was a little bluffing?
A born gambler, he knew how to push when holding strong cards.
“Push too hard and it may backfire. A cornered rat will bite.”
The president looked at the foreign minister like he was pathetic.
“Have you ever seen a cat afraid of a rat? How can you run a country with such small guts?”
The room froze under the ruler’s cold words.
Bella’s room, occupying Suites 101 and 102.
A chicken-and-beer party was in full swing.
Choi Cheolmin, who had been crying and laughing repeatedly, was moved again by a breaking report.
“Breaking news from the presidential office. As part of ending the war with China, our government demands the return of Gando—our former territory taken under Qing oppression in 1908—and appropriate war reparations. China has not yet issued an official response!”
Cheolmin’s eyes widened, and he silently cheered.
He seemed too shocked to speak.
“Hm… Gando is a reasonable demand. The timing is perfect. I thought the Korean president was a petty man just seeking his own survival, but he’s incredibly lucky.”
Lauren said this while tearing into a drumstick and wiping grease on her sleeve.
“I truly have no regrets even if I die today. As a citizen of the Republic of Korea, I’ve never had a happier day.”
Cheolmin’s eyes welled up again.
Lauren watched him closely. She had subtly criticized the president earlier, and since he didn’t react badly, she judged he wasn’t a ruling-party supporter.
“Still, I never knew Korea’s military was this strong. An overwhelming victory over China—it’s unbelievable.”
“That’s because you don’t know Korean history. Our peninsula always shows several times its strength against China. Japan too. I saw online recently—do you know how many times foreign powers invaded us? Whenever the country was in danger, all citizens rose up.”
“I know Korean history. I’m talking about modern military power. Korea ranks high globally, but the opponent is China. I can’t understand such a gap.”
Cheolmin spoke proudly.
“They say Korea built up the ‘Pobangbu’ for a day like this. I saw it on YouTube last night. They said our Pobangbu has insane power. That’s why we can fire missiles to the Chinese mainland!”
Lauren watched him with a cool gaze as he gave his excited speech. No matter how she looked at it, this man wasn’t the one behind it.
“Ah! Master Seorin, please have more! I ordered three more fried chickens.”
For Seorin, who quietly ate only chicken skin, Cheolmin had ordered three more. Since yesterday, Chae Seorin had become his swordsmanship master. She was picky with food—she didn’t eat the meat, only peeling and eating the fried skin.
Seorin nodded once at the drumstick he offered, then skillfully peeled and ate the skin.
“It’d be nice if our juniors and the room maids could eat together, but they must be really busy outside. Especially a shame Chan can’t join us.”
Cheolmin, wanting to share this joy with everyone, said.
“Chan’s having the time of his life right now. Leave him.”
Bella said this while popping the chicken meat Seorin peeled into her own mouth.