Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Race Against Time
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Thud, thud.
The pot-bellied man walked with his hands clasped behind his head.
Right behind him, Kanghyeok pressed a pistol to his back. His urine-soaked feet squelched with every step.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
At the sight of the bodies and bloodstains Kanghyeok had left behind, the pot-bellied man apologized over and over like a man who had lost his mind.
“Don’t get any funny ideas.”
Kanghyeok said, pressing the pistol into the man’s spine, and the pot-bellied man nodded vigorously.
The position of the muzzle was terrifying.
Even if he was lucky enough to survive, a shot there would leave him paralyzed for life.
“Never, I’ll never do anything.”
“Then walk faster.”
Kanghyeok spoke with a chilling calmness, but the pot-bellied man could only walk slowly.
His legs felt like jelly, and he thought he might collapse at any moment.
“Ha-Hancock is down here.”
(Be careful.)
The pot-bellied man spoke from the far end of the counter, and Leila’s voice came over the radio as if on cue. But all Kanghyeok could see was a brick wall, with no sign of a door.
With a shelf full of liquor right next to it, it looked even less like a doorway.
Click.
As Kanghyeok pressed the gun to the man’s back and racked the slide, the pot-bellied man let out a scream that was almost a shriek.
“I’ll open it, I’m opening it! Really!”
The pot-bellied man, his hands trembling pitifully, pushed on a brick that was noticeably darker than the others.
Grind.
The hidden door, camouflaged with cut bricks, swung open, revealing a dark space.
“Turn on the light.”
“W-wait a moment. I have something to say to Hancock.”
When Kanghyeok didn't respond, the pot-bellied man hastily continued.
“I’m not going to try anything funny! I’m just, just going to tell him to shut up and stay put. That’s all!”
(Are you going to trust him?)
“We’ll see.”
Kanghyeok muttered under his breath and nodded at the man. The pot-bellied man, who had barely managed to turn his head slightly, saw the gesture and raised his voice toward the darkness.
“Hancock! Dammit, it’s me!”
Kanghyeok pressed the muzzle harder against his back, as if to say he’d pull the trigger at the slightest wrong move, and the pot-bellied man screamed even louder.
“Don’t do anything stupid! Don’t do anything! Just lie flat on the floor or the desk! If you so much as lift a finger, you’re dead!”
Idiot.
The pot-bellied man was so ridiculously terrified that Kanghyeok almost swore unconsciously.
“Light.”
The pot-bellied man hastily reached for the wall inside the doorway,
Click!
and flicked the light switch.
The darkness receded, revealing a brightly lit basement.
There were stairs with no railing, bare concrete walls and ceiling, a floor covered with a tarp, and rusty metal shelves pushed up against the walls.
Kanghyeok’s gaze fell on a desk against one wall.
A skinny white man was lying flat on it, just as the pot-bellied man had ordered. He had to be Hancock.
(Did you find the laptop?)
Leila’s question came through, but Kanghyeok couldn’t answer.
There are times like that.
(Kanghyeok?)
Times when, even when pressed, the words just won’t come.
Times when a sense of foreboding grips your lips, making it hard to speak.
He tried to ignore it, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the shelves were sparsely filled.
“Hancock!”
The pot-bellied man approached Hancock as if he’d found his savior, roughly grabbing his shoulders and forcing him upright.
“The laptop! Where’s the laptop the kid brought in this morning?”
Hancock was clearly a drug addict.
The red needle marks on his forearm, sunken cheeks, and dark circles under his eyes were all classic signs of a junkie.
Whether he’d heard the commotion upstairs or was coming down from a high, Hancock just trembled without opening his mouth.
“Hurry! Where is it!”
“Uh, uh, uh.”
“What!”
The pot-bellied man demanded an answer as if he were Kanghyeok, and Hancock pointed a pale, twig-like finger at the shelves.
“Gone.”
“Dammit! Why is it gone!”
As the pot-bellied man glanced at Kanghyeok and yelled, veins popping on his neck, Hancock giggled with vacant eyes.
“Gone, gone. They took it all.”
“What?”
“Collection day! Today, collection day!”
As the words tumbled out of Hancock’s mouth along with a long string of drool, the pot-bellied man’s face turned white.
He then silently prayed to God, though it didn't seem like it would do him much good.
Kanghyeok was still pressing the pistol into his spine.
As the pot-bellied man trembled like a leaf in the wind, terrified that Kanghyeok’s gun might go off at any second, Kanghyeok sucked in his lips.
Then, looking at Hancock, he managed to force out the words.
“Where to?”
“Don’t know.”
Kanghyeok shoved the pot-bellied man aside.
As the pot-bellied man prayed again, pressing a hand to his pounding chest, Kanghyeok placed the pistol squarely in the middle of Hancock’s forehead.
“Last time I’m asking. Where to?”
“D-don’t know.”
Click!
As the gun was cocked, Hancock’s dazed eyes cleared slightly.
“Th-th-the, the sea.”
“The port?”
“Y-yeah, yeah.”
Slam!
Kanghyeok slammed Hancock’s head onto the desk and shot a fierce look at the pot-bellied man.
Tell me everything you know. Now.
The intense gaze made the pot-bellied man swallow hard before he opened his mouth.
“I-I wasn’t trying to trick you…”
“Shut up and talk.”
“T-today’s the transaction day. I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you! I was just so flustered that I forgot. Really, I swear!”
“Transaction day?”
The pot-bellied man answered, nearly in tears.
“The goods, they’re collected. And then, they go… overseas…”
Kanghyeok bit his lower lip.
Of all the rotten luck.
If what the man said was true, the laptop wasn’t here. It had already entered the sales route, and once it went overseas, it would be virtually impossible to find.
“What time is the deal?”
“Wh-what?”
“The time of the deal!”
“5 PM!”
Kanghyeok pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time.
It was only thirty minutes until 5 PM. The port was a fifty-minute drive, even at top speed. No matter how fast he went, he couldn’t make it in time.
These guys always finished their deals quickly.
The process of handing over the goods, checking them, and paying took ten minutes at most, even being generous.
It was probably a similar psychology to how criminals on the run always seemed to inhale their food.
Grind!
Kanghyeok glared at the time on his phone and clenched his jaw.
‘Dammit.’
What the hell did I do all this for?
Upstairs on the first floor, there were over thirty bodies.
All of them killed by Kanghyeok.
They were untrained thugs, sure, but he had faced them with subpar equipment, his body still stiff, a full year after his retirement.
So what if he wore a bulletproof vest?
A bullet to the head would have been instant death, and he had actually faced that very danger.
And now the laptop isn’t even here?
As Kanghyeok gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles bulging, the pot-bellied man could barely breathe, and Hancock let out a bizarre, high-pitched moan.
Grind!
Kanghyeok ground his molars, his jaw working.
He could accept, grudgingly, that the laptop was gone, but there was one thing he couldn’t understand.
Why did a part of him feel… relieved?
It sent a shiver down his spine.
It felt like he was rejecting the life he’d built solely around that laptop.
‘No, I have to find it.’
The Bitcoin on that laptop represented a massive fortune, even at current market prices.
It was an asset that would grow exponentially over time, bought with Kanghyeok’s retirement money.
He wasn’t foolish enough to give up on it now.
Kanghyeok spoke into the communication device in his ear.
“Start the engine.”
(It’s already running.)
Leila’s strangely calm voice seemed to soothe his turbulent emotions slightly.
Kanghyeok turned and headed for the stairs, and the pot-bellied man collapsed to the floor.
It was then.
Freed from Kanghyeok’s grasp, Hancock’s face contorted with shame and rage.
“Eeeeeee!”
He pulled a pocketknife from the desk drawer and lunged at Kanghyeok before the pot-bellied man had a chance to stop him.
Normally, there would have been no need to stop Hancock.
Kanghyeok had his back turned, and having known Hancock for a long time, the man was well aware of how dangerous a crazed junkie could be.
But having seen with his own two eyes what kind of man Kanghyeok was, the pot-bellied man couldn’t help but picture what would happen to Hancock.
Thwack!
Just before the vicious tip of the knife could plunge into the crown of his head, Kanghyeok spun around and blocked Hancock’s wrist.
“Huh?”
Hancock, not expecting his attack to be blocked, let out a dazed sound as Kanghyeok slammed him against the wall.
Slam!
Hancock was thrown so hard that the metal shelves rattled violently, his face twisting in pain.
Kanghyeok pressed the pistol into Hancock’s chest as if to pin him down.
Crack! Crack!
With holes punched through his lungs, Hancock immediately coughed up blood.
It must have been hell.
Getting shot in the chest is excruciatingly painful, but worse than that, you can’t breathe. Like a punctured balloon that can’t inflate, a punctured lung can’t hold oxygen.
Instead, blood fills the lungs, and you effectively drown in your own blood.
“Gurgle, cough.”
As Hancock spewed dark blood, Kanghyeok’s lips twisted, and he unleashed his emotions, firing the pistol wildly.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The shooting didn’t stop even after Hancock had fallen.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Having nearly emptied the magazine, Kanghyeok looked down at Hancock and spoke.
“Ten hours.”
The pot-bellied man instinctively knew those words were for him. He was completely frozen, unable to say a word, as Kanghyeok continued.
“If I see you after ten hours, you’re dead too.”
There was nothing more to say.
Kanghyeok walked up the stairs, pistol in hand.
Creeak.
As the door closed, the pot-bellied man, still trembling, began to move.
The sole survivor of a building that was once full of people.
The best thing the pot-bellied man could do was exactly what Kanghyeok had told him: get out of town.
Slam!
As soon as Kanghyeok got in the car, Leila spoke.
“So you let him live.”
Kanghyeok glared at Leila as he ejected the magazine from his pistol. It was empty.
“Got any ammo?”
“Isn’t there something more pressing?”
“If you know, then drive.”
“Let’s make a call first.”
Kanghyeok, who was inspecting his pistol, moved only his eyes to look at Leila. She turned to him, phone in hand.
“William gave me his instructions. To help you, without reservation.”
Kanghyeok’s eyes narrowed.
It wasn’t a gesture of pure goodwill, but a favor meant to get him reinstated somehow. Still, he knew just how powerful a favor from the company could be.
Especially in a situation like this, it was as reassuring as finding a supply drop on the front lines.
“May I make the call?”
Kanghyeok met her gaze for a long moment before looking back down at his pistol.
“I’ll need ammo and a new gun, too.”
Leila smiled faintly and replied.
“I’ll get them for you as soon as I’m off the phone.”
Then she pressed the call button on her phone, the number already dialed.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
The call Leila made rang deep underground.
In a basement that didn't appear on any building blueprints, a concealed space inaccessible by conventional means.
There was a reason for such secrecy.
The employees here also handled matters outside the bounds of the law.
Assassination, reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, contracts.
They sometimes worked hand-in-hand with the government, but they also took on jobs that couldn’t be publicly acknowledged, sometimes resorting to illegal methods in the process.
On the surface, however, it was a legitimate company.
A mercenary company.
Though not large in scale, it was known to the world as a skilled mercenary company with a long history, but in reality, it was merely a means of recruiting capable agents.
They would secretly approach standout mercenaries and offer them different work. Only those who accepted were given a suit after rigorous training and vetting.
The same kind of suit Kanghyeok was wearing.
The suit was a symbol.
Combat was their job.
The battlefield, their workplace.
The suit’s cuffs, which indicated rank, served as their identification. Even a temporary-rank version was rare enough to be traded among collectors for astronomical sums.
Beep, beep, beep.
As the ringing continued, as if urging him to answer, a man wearing a headset moved his mouse and clicked the call button.
The caller’s identity was displayed on his monitor, so he didn’t bother asking for a name.
“What can I do for you?”
(I need assistance.)
The man glanced at Leila’s profile picture in the corner of his monitor and smiled.
“Is this about Mr. Kanghyeok?”
(Yes. Please confirm the location of the coordinates I’m sending and buy us some time.)
“What’s the deadline, and how much time do you need?”
(5 PM today. And indefinitely.)
Ding!
After reading the text message that came through, the man’s smile widened.
The request was to stop a deal between a gang selling stolen goods and drugs, and the buyers.
“I’ll take care of it right away.”
It was a simple and easy task.