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Chapter 23: To Hwanggumpyong
TL: Enuma ID
At first, I'd planned to head back to Wang Chunsam's Eatery.
But now that I'd secured Jin Hao, the Chongqing Society's Dandong branch chief, there was exactly one place left for me to go.
"Whew. Now I feel human again."
Stepping out of the shower, it felt like the blood smell soaked into every inch of my body had finally washed away.
Ѐ n̄ u m̀ a . і́ d
I threw on the clothes laid out in a corner of the bedroom and looked out the window.
Maybe because this was the penthouse floor of Dandong's finest hotel, the whole city spread out below me in a single glance.
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'Did they remodel again already?'
I knew the Chongqing Society's men had torn the place apart inside and out just days ago, yet somehow it looked untouched.
Suddenly feeling I could use some water, I stepped out of the bedroom.
"Enjoy your shower?"
Е̌ ǹûḿ а́.ї d̂
As if she'd been waiting for me to finish, Yang Mi-ryeong sat on the sofa, legs elegantly crossed.
"Yes. Nice and hot. I finally caught my breath, thanks to you."
Half a dozen bottles of water happened to be sitting on the table.
I cracked one open, wet my parched throat, and settled into the seat across from her.
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"Aren't you hungry? Room service comes up fast."
"No. Mind if I just have some of these?"
Ě n̂u m ӓ .іd
"Help yourself."
A whole tiered tray of appetizing refreshments sat stacked in the center of the table, so I started picking away at those.
Munch, munch.
Then Yang Mi-ryeong, who had been quietly observing me for a while, leaned toward me at an angle.
Her hair spilled down, brushing softly over her shoulder.
A sweet fragrance drifted out from between the strands.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"While you were in there washing up, Dandong probably got turned upside down two or three times over."
"Did something else happen already?"
"That's what I want to ask you. I did some digging, and everyone inside the Chongqing Society hideout was massacred to the last man. What on earth happened out there?"
I picked at the refreshments while choosing my words.
I didn't particularly feel like boasting that I was the one who'd shot most of the assassination squad dead.
"Good question."
Е̃n ü m ӓ .і d.
"...That's your whole answer?"
"Yeah. Well, like you said, the Chongqing Society and the assassination squad wiped each other out. Very amicably."
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"Then how exactly did you spirit Jin Hao out of the middle of that battlefield? With both of you without a scratch on you, no less."
"Just got lucky. They were busy shooting and blowing each other up, so I just scooped him up while the getting was good."
"...."
"It was quite the ordeal."
Е̃n ũm̂ å . і̂ d̆
At my indifferent answer, Yang Mi-ryeong's brow pinched into a frown.
Her eyes bored into my face as if she meant to see straight through me.
"Funny how you get lucky every single time. You said the exact same thing when you abducted So Se-hyok. You're really never going to give me a straight answer?"
"I've never been much of a talker."
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At my shameless reply, the corners of Yang Mi-ryeong's eyes twitched, her expression that of someone dying to say something.
She looked desperate to know just what kind of magic I'd been working.
W̌ е̃ b́ ǹ о̄v̈ӗl̀ Ё nǔm̃_а
But judging that I wasn't about to answer, she let out a small huff through her nose.
"In any case, thanks to you bringing Jin Hao in intact, the upcoming negotiations with the Chongqing Society should go very smoothly."
"Negotiations, meaning...."
"I intend to hold Jin Hao hostage and deal directly with the Chongqing Society boss. To take over the Society's remaining business interests in Dandong, I'll need a certain degree of cooperation from the main house in Taiwan."
I tilted my head without thinking.
"Was Jin Hao really worth that much?"
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"Oh my. You didn't know? Jin Hao is the Chongqing Society boss's second son."
"Huh."
Last night he'd done nothing but cower and tremble in the car seat, and I'd wondered what his deal was. Turns out he was the Chongqing Society boss's own flesh and blood.
Now I understood exactly why Yang Mi-ryeong had insisted I take him alive.
"I never dreamed you'd just deliver Jin Hao before you'd even formally accepted the job."
"I wasn't expecting to close that contract last night either."
Е̊ n̆ úm̀ а̌ . і̀ d
"Anyway, I'll have the agreed payment ready soon."
Come to think of it, right.
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Pull it off, and she'd compensate me handsomely with a sum I'd never touch in a lifetime; I vaguely remembered hearing something like that over the phone.
'How much is she planning to pay, to get my heart racing like this?'
Tempted in spite of myself, I was just debating whether to come right out and ask the figure when...
"And one more thing. You said one of the North Korean assassination squad's squad leaders escaped alive?"
Е n̆.ǔṁa . ї d̂
"...Don't tell me."
"I found out where he's hiding."
Tension gathered back into my body, which had gone fully loose after the shower.
I couldn't fathom how she'd found that out in the short time it took me to wash up.
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'I can't even begin to guess how deep this woman's reach goes.'
A moment's thought gave me the answer.
Е̌n̈ům̂а
Right after confirming Crane No. 13's death, Yang Mi-ryeong had pulled information out of China's intelligence agency, the MSS, and established that the North Korean assassination squad numbered fifteen in total.
It seemed she'd used the same channel to secure the squad leader's location this time as well.
"He's hiding on Hwanggumpyong right now. The Hwanggumpyong Administration Building, to be exact. You know where that is, don't you?"
I nodded absently at her words.
Hwanggumpyong.
Fused to the Dandong landmass and blocked off by nothing but a wire fence, yet strictly speaking, sovereign North Korean territory.
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"I know it well."
Come to think of it, there was no more perfect place for the remnants of a North Korean assassination squad to lie low.
It let him dodge the Dandong Public Security dragnet while giving him the perfect escape route, back across the Yalu River to the homeland at a moment's notice.
Since there was every chance he'd bolt for North Korea, I had to move fast.
'First, a gun.'
Even if I wanted to leave for Hwanggumpyong this instant, the problem was I had nothing on me.
W̄ е̊ b nоv̈еl̄ Ѐñ um̃ ӑ
I could walk in empty-handed, sure, but I needed to at least look the part.
'It'd be a long detour, but the Rabbit Hole should have something.'
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Then it suddenly hit me that I'd never once properly said a word of thanks to Yang Mi-ryeong.
From the So Se-hyok abduction all the way to Crane No. 13's death.
Every way she'd helped me flashed through my mind in an instant.
Our eyes met, and she tilted her head.
En ū ṁ а̌.і̀ d
"Thank you."
At my abrupt thanks, Yang Mi-ryeong's eyes went round.
"Thank you? For what, all of a sudden?"
"For recovering the body of my senior, Crane No. 13, for all the help you've given me personally. For all of it."
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"Hmph. Thanking me now, of all times."
Yang Mi-ryeong, who had been listening quietly, gave a small snort.
Ē ń u ḿ а̃ .і̄d̆
For all the bite in her words, the smile playing at her lips didn't look the least bit displeased.
"I'm the one who should be thanking you. For avenging Crane No. 13."
"Ah."
"He died on foreign soil under an identity no one could trace, but at least his body gets to go home. Because of you."
The bitter smile lingering at the corner of her mouth nagged at me.
If I had to guess, the two of them had probably shared the same era inside the NIS, as senior and junior.
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When I kept staring at her, Yang Mi-ryeong cleared her throat and reset the mood.
"Anyway, you've got a long way to go, don't you?"
"That I do."
Stopping by the Rabbit Hole and then getting to Hwanggumpyong was going to take a good while.
'If I could just shave down the travel time from here to the Rabbit Hole, that would be perfect.'
Then a good idea struck me.
E n̄ u ṁ ӓ.іd
I shamelessly puffed out my chest.
"I know I literally just finished thanking you, but it looks like I'll have to impose a little more."
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"What is it this time?"
"Before I go deal with the last surviving squad leader, I was wondering if you had a spare pistol I could borrow."
"Ah."
"Otherwise I'll have to take the long way around, all the way to the Rabbit Hole."
Е̂ n̈ üm а
"Heh. Shameless, aren't you."
Maybe it helped that I'd gotten my thanks in first.
Even at my brazen request, Yang Mi-ryeong only smiled softly and gave an easy nod.
"All right. Follow me."
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She rose from her seat and led me to her own room, deeper inside the penthouse.
Doing my best to ignore the sweet scent filling the room, I headed further in and found something like a walk-in closet.
Е́n̊ ù m а̄
"Take whatever you need."
"Oh."
Inside, firearms of every type stood arrayed in rows, from throwing daggers to pistols, rifles, even sniper rifles.
I marveled for a moment, but honestly, there wasn't much here worth taking.
I pulled out the one thing that fit my hand, a Glock 17, along with a few spare magazines.
I racked the slide; it had been oiled silky-smooth.
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"Will that do?"
"Yes. This is plenty, but... you wouldn't happen to have a Claymore, would you?"
"...Excuse me? A Claymore?"
At my question, Yang Mi-ryeong's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"Why on earth would you want to bring something that horrifying?"
"Well, you know, just in case...."
Wе̂ b̃ n̂ öv̌ е l Ѐnu m̀а́
"Of course I don't have one."
I deflated.
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It would have come in handy in all sorts of ways. A real shame.
'I should do a tour of the Rabbit Holes one of these days.'
I fixed the pistol, holster and all, to my belt and stepped out of the room.
"How are you planning to get to Hwanggumpyong?"
Е̇n um̄ а̀
Yang Mi-ryeong caught me lightly by the collar and stopped me.
"I was going to call a taxi or something."
"Don't bother. Come this way."
Yang Mi-ryeong led me onto the elevator once again.
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We arrived at the Kowloon Hotel's VIP parking garage on basement level two.
Amid rows of gleaming top-end sedans, Bentleys and Maybachs, we headed for one particularly out-of-the-way corner.
Е̄ nu m̊ а . i̊d
"Can you ride a motorcycle, by any chance?"
"Yes. Did a lap of the whole country on a 300cc once, back in the day."
"Good."
She yanked away the cover draped over something in the corner.
What emerged beneath it was a cruiser-style motorcycle.
An air-cooled V-twin engine.
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A Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight painted matte black.
"Take this."
"Ohh."
My reaction came out a little too big, despite myself.
Yang Mi-ryeong chuckled at the sparkle in my eyes.
She wore the expression of someone watching a child in a toy store.
Ӗ_ǹ u m̀ а̀
"A certain Communist Party cadre pawned every vehicle he owned to make the rounds of the casinos, and went home penniless in the end. I managed to sell off all the cars, but this one thing was left over. As far as I'm concerned, it's been a white elephant I couldn't get rid of."
"But what if I ride it hard and end up wrecking it...."
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"Whether it sits here gathering dust or you smash it up riding around, it makes no difference to me. Take it and use it however you like."
The key was already sitting in the ignition.
I planted myself on the seat by pure reflex and fired it up.
Puh-duh-duh-duh-duh.
Ѐ ñù m̂ а̃.ǐ.d̊
That signature hoofbeat exhaust note, seeming to shake the entire underground garage.
A grin escaped me before I knew it.
Just as I was about to set off in that perfect mood, Yang Mi-ryeong poked me in the side.
"Don't die."
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Something about her soft, lingering gaze set my chest trembling.
This trembling, no doubt, was just the engine's vibration.
Ê nu m̌а . і d́
"Don't worry. I won't get so much as a scratch."
"Good. Come back safe."
Only once I'd answered did Yang Mi-ryeong step out of my path.
I cranked the throttle wide open, just because, and in moments I was clear of the garage.
Puh-duh-duh-duh-duh!
The rushing wind raked cool and sharp across my cheeks.
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*****
Mouse clicks, keyboard clatter; the situation room was full of nothing but stray noise.
The only thing passing back and forth in the silence was a round of uneasy glances.
Everyone kept their mouths firmly shut, watching, reading the room.
"Um, Team Leader?"
"What? What. New report come in?"
W ӗb́ nȯ v е ľ Ė n̊ u m̀а̃
"N-no. It's not that...."
An analyst at the comms desk, oblivious to the mood, cautiously spoke up.
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"We just received contact on the Liaoning Provincial Public Security Department line. A Triad organization was massacred on the outskirts of Dandong, and they're demanding to know whether our headquarters is mixed up in the dispute. They say counterterror units have been dispatched to the scene...."
"What the.... Ugh, whatever. Tell them we don't know."
"Yes, sir."
"Why are they asking us about some gangster bastards' turf war? Tell them we know nothing about it. Not our problem."
Е̊ n u m̈ a
"...Yes, sir. Understood."
The analysts clamped their mouths shut, wary of getting swept up in his temper.
Choi Min-sik scowled and went on.
"And listen up. If Sparrow survives and gets picked up by Public Security, you deny him flat out. He is absolutely not one of ours."
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"Ah. But still...."
"But still, my ass!"
Е̇.n̂ ům а́
The NIS promotion system has a lot in common with the military's.
Just as frontline units have the best odds of promotion, field personnel get promoted first.
Which was why Team Leader Choi Min-sik, a management man from the day he joined, was now on his third shot at promotion.
"Let me make this crystal clear, right here and now. As of today, that kid is disowned. A prodigal son, you hear me? A prodigal!"
"U-understood, Team Leader."
Russia, the Middle East, the Northeast Three Provinces, Southeast Asia.
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Even within the Special Operations Group's overseas division, where Teams 1 through 4 battled for ranking every cycle, he was the Team 3 leader famous for his rotten luck.
The Northeast Three Provinces under his charge, in particular, were a daily walk across thin ice.
It had been only days since they'd popped champagne over a monumental, long-awaited success, and then a North Korean assassination squad had to come crashing in out of nowhere!
"Haah. When that kid dragged So Se-hyok in, I really thought this was it. This time I'd finally get promoted...."
Part of him wanted to grab a gun right this second, storm in, and shoot every last one of those North Korean assassination squad bastards himself.
Whether he died or flat-out croaked doing it, at least he'd get his promotion!
Ѐ n uṁ а̄ . і̊ d̃
"Fuck...."
He didn't need to be there to know how badly he'd get his ass chewed out at tomorrow morning's meeting.
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What a disgrace, they'd say. Can't even control a single one of your own men.
Just imagining the scene made his blood boil.
"Torching that magnificent achievement in a single night.... And because of that one punk, we're all dragged in here in the dead of night, busting our asses. For what?"
Frankly, if not for Sparrow No. 7, the report that the Dandong agents had evacuated to the safe house would have effectively closed out the situation, and he'd have grabbed a few more winks in the duty room.
Е̇ n̆u m а
Sleep clung to him like tar. Choi Min-sik squeezed his eyes shut and sank deep into his chair.
"Fuuuck...."
He was muttering curses under his breath, seething at the injustice of it all, when...
"T-Team Leader! Sparrow No. 7 is confirmed alive!"
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An analyst's urgent shout pierced the silence.
Welcome as the news was, Choi Min-sik opened only one eye and sneered.
E n ŭ mа. í d̀
"Ha. So he managed to stay alive after all. What's he saying? Took a bullet in the ass? Hiding in some sewer somewhere? Begging us to please come pull him out?"
"N-no. It's.... He's reporting that the situation is over."
Only then did Choi Min-sik blink both eyes wide.
"...The situation is over? Who the hell is he to tell us when the situation is over?"
"That's not it.... Of the fifteen North Korean assassination squad members inserted into Dandong, he has shot fourteen dead, and Sparrow No. 7 himself has exfiltrated the scene without injury."
"?"
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Maybe because he hadn't been dragged out for night duty in so long?
He must have still been half inside a dream.
He dug a finger into his ear.
Dug, and dug again.
*****
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Ẁе̂ b́ n̂ o v еl̇ Еnu m̈ á_
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