God of Blackfield

Chapter 233.2: I’m Sorry, Channy (1)

Oh Gwang-Taek’s office.

“I’ll just call you Hyung-nim, all right?” Oh Gwang-Taek asked politely.

Kang Chul-Gyu simply glanced over at him in reply.

“I apologize if you don’t think it’s respectful enough given your age, but I’ve lived this way my entire life. The title ‘Director’ just won’t stick to my mouth, and I can’t do anything about it. You have that look in your eyes anyway, so just let me call you Hyung-nim,” Oh Gwang-Taek added in an attempt to persuade him.

Pft.

Kang Chul-Gyu couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

“Even though your faces are completely different, your expression, gaze, and even your laugh are exactly like Kang Chan’s. It’s strange. We should seriously look into this when we can. Do you think he’s a distant relative?” Oh Gwang-Taek asked.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never even met him,” Kang Chul-Gyu answered.

“So strange. Even your tone of speaking is the same.”

“Tae-Jin also said the same thing. Do I really resemble that guy? I heard he isn’t even 20 yet.”

“I am a hundred percent sure that he’s completely like you. That man is a total monster. If he had decided to be a gangster, I would have retired a lot earlier. Best to just quickly leave than embarrass myself by getting my ass kicked by him. I was surprised when he managed to take down the parking lot gang’s Park Ki-Bum all by himself, but I still didn’t expect him to be this much of a beast back then.”

Seeing the doubt in Kang Chul-Gyu’s eyes, Oh Gwang-Taek chuckled as he continued, “Hyung-nim, I’m feeling parched. Why don’t we—Oh, right! You don’t drink alcohol, do you? Why don’t I tell you a bit more about this story over something nice and refreshing instead,” Oh Gwang-Taek suggested.

Kang Chul-Gyu only chuckled again in response. Hence, Oh Gwang-Taek nodded and pressed the button for the intercom.

“Hey! Get me a pint of beer and a pint of juice,” he ordered.

Kang Chul-Gyu looked at Oh Gwang-Taek in disbelief.

***

“Colonel Park Chul-Su,” Park Chul-Su greeted.

“Kang Chan,” Kang Chan said in response.

Park Chul-Su had the physique of a wrestling athlete. He was very well-built and was around one hundred seventy-five centimeters tall. What remained of his nearly-gone left ear made Kang Chan sure that he was a wrestler at some point.

Park Chul-Su saluted Kang Chan first, then held out his hand before Kang Chan could salute back. He gripped his hand tightly. When Kang Chan returned the favor, surprise flashed in his eyes.

“Why don’t we go somewhere we can sit down for now?” Park Chul-Su suggested.

“The office is better for meetings like this,” Kang Chan replied.

This open space only had one table and two desks, one of which was in the corner of the room.

Park Chul-Su was wearing black jeans, a collared shirt, and a bomber jacket. His posture remained straight as he sat down at the desk. When Lee Doo-Hee brought them some tea, Park Chul-Su glanced at him and nodded in a short greeting.

“I understand you’re busy, but I wanted to meet with you before you left for Mongolia, so I begged Manager Kim to give me the opportunity,” Park Chul-Su began.

“I wanted to go to Jeungpyeong as well, but my schedule is so hectic right now that I can’t find the time to,” Kang Chan responded, his voice filled with regret.

“No, I understand.”

Park Chul-Su’s tone and actions were stiff and curt, just like a soldier who had just entered the military.

“Do you smoke?” Kang Chan asked.

“Can I smoke in an office like this?” Park Chul-Su sounded surprised.

“You look like you would like nothing better than to smoke here,” Kang Chan replied with a grin.

Park Chul-Su smiled from ear to ear as he pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his bomber jacket’s pocket. Kang Chan couldn’t help but think that even the man’s smile had a stiff angle to it.

“Here,” Park Chul-Su said. He offered him a Korean cigarette—the priciest one on the market.

Kang Chan took no time to accept it. He then lit up Park Chul-Su’s and Kim Hyung-Jung’s cigarettes for them.

“We came here because Colonel Park said he has something important that he wants to tell you,” Kim Hyung-Jung said.

“It’s fine. I’ve been meaning to meet him as well,” Kang Chan responded.

After some tea and puffs on the cigarette, the awkwardness died down a bit.

“I have a favor to ask,” Park Chul-Su said after folding and extinguishing the cigarette firmly in the ashtray. “The only reason why I decided to take the special forces in Jeungpyeong is because I know what General Choi Seong-Geon would have wanted.”

Kang Chan didn’t know what Park Chul-Su was trying to say. Since Park Chul-Su hadn’t made his point yet, he didn’t really know how to reply.

“I will stop any unjust orders coming from the higher-ups in the military. In return, I hope you keep managing the special forces team the same way as before, Assistant Director,” Park Chul-Su added.

What is he talking about?

Seeing Kang Chan look so confused, Park Chul-Su continued, “While I was part of the Third Airborne Forces, there was a time when I wanted to be discharged. General Choi stopped me back then. He said that a time would come when soldiers like me would be needed, and if the last fortress of our country couldn’t be protected because it had no soldiers like me in that crucial moment, General Choi, the special forces in Jeungpyeong, and I would all be sinning against our country. Now, I’ve found what it is that I have to do. That’s why I have taken command of Jeungpyeong’s special forces team.”

Kang Chan felt chills running down the back of his head, behind his ears, and on his neck—a testament to how powerful Park Chul-Su’s expression, voice, and eyes were.

“You won’t be able to find anyone to succeed General Choi Seong-Geon who knows his intentions as well as I do. He attempted to bring me over to Jeungpyeong about three times, but there was strong opposition from the higher-ups. They probably thought that if I was with General Choi, they would lose what little control they had left of his special forces team. They simply had no choice this time because no one else would take the position. Hence, as General Choi has done until he passed, I will be your shield. In return, please continue to lead the special forces team, Assistant Director Kang. That is all.”

As Park Chul-Su picked up another cigarette, Kang Chan felt as if he had woken up from a spell.

A chuckle escaped from him.

Why are there so many incredible men in this damn country?

Maybe it was because he now felt differently about this country than in the past, but he couldn’t help but be amazed.

“Colonel Park,” Kang Chan called.

“Assistant Director,” Park Chul-Su replied, quickly putting his cigarette on the table.

Kang Chan didn’t know if it was because of his position as assistant director or if it stemmed from the respect the man had for his accomplishments, but Park Chul-Su treated him as if he was his superior.

“If it wasn’t for General Choi, none of the operations that we’ve gone on would have been possible,” Kang Chan said.

This time, Park Chul-Su was the one who looked confused.

“If there wasn’t anyone to link the special forces soldiers so tightly together, they wouldn’t have gotten any golden opportunity that would have allowed them to join missions,” Kang Chan continued.

The smoke from the lit cigarette rose, and the ceiling sucked it all up.

“There will come a time when the special forces team has to take command of themselves. I would likely not be able to join them during their upcoming mission in Africa. If you speak as if you’re leaving the soldiers to fend for themselves, the soldiers won’t have anyone to rely on. If you’re in it, you’re in it, and if you’re not, then you’re not. That’s the kind of person General Choi was,” Kang Chan asserted.

Park Chul-Su grinned and put out his cigarette.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Park Chul-Su stated.

“I’ll leave the soldiers in your hands,” Kang Chan said.

“Leave it to me,” Park Chul-Su replied.

Kim Hyung-Jung, who was just quietly listening to the conversation, made the most satisfied smile that Kang Chan had ever seen him make.

***

“You really didn’t watch this?” Kim Tae-Jin asked Kang Chul-Gyu in disbelief.

“I told you. I was intentionally avoiding anything related to the military. I don’t even have a TV at home,” Kang Chul-Gyu replied.

They were now at Kim Tae-Jin’s office. Kang Chul-Gyu couldn’t take his eyes off the large TV that took up one side of the wall. Its screen was showing the battle that the South Korean special forces had in Afghanistan.

“That man is the one called Kang Chan, isn’t he?” Kang Chul-Gyu asked.

“I do not have the authority to confirm that,” Kim Tae-Jin replied.

Kang Chul-Gyu smirked in response. His eyes remained glued on the screen, refusing to look away for even just a moment.

He flinched as he watched Kang Chan put up quite a fierce fight. It was as if he would spring forward at any moment.

Kim Tae-Jin looked at Kang Chul-Gyu’s glinting eyes, the loose smirk on one corner of his mouth, and his tightly clenched fists. He had heard Kang Chul-Gyu had devoted three full years to rehab. Even now, Kang Chul-Gyu’s eyes flashed with the struggle to overcome his pain, but his well-built physique could convince people that he was still on active duty.

“That guy has quite the gut instincts,” Kang Chul-Gyu suddenly remarked.

Kim Tae-Jin glanced up.

“It’s the kind of thing that you just know. Your heart tells you. The moment you fall into a state where you can start to count your breaths, you become the perfect killing machine,” Kang Chul-Gyu said firmly.

Kang Chul-Gyu gritted his teeth as he continued to watch the fight on the screen.