God of Blackfield

The road was quite far away from the International Building.

Fortunately, they at least had police lines.

After making their way through the photographers’s camera flashes, the bright lights from the broadcast cameras, and the cheers of the onlookers, Kang Chan, Seok Kang-Ho, and Gérard finally got into the van of the special forces team.

Only when the van had left, its sirens wailing, did they take off their helmets.

“Where are the soldiers?” Kang Chan asked.

“They’re at the special forces training center in Hanam,” the agent in the passenger seat answered.

They couldn’t take off their bandanas yet since a lot of people were at the roadside.

The van drove into a back alley and then followed the one-way street, which barely had enough room for even one car to pass through. Once the van was out of it, another car immediately followed it and blocked the alley, preventing other vehicles from using it. Its objective was to ensure that other people wouldn’t be able to see the van go into the basement parking lot of the National Intelligence Service’s Samseong-Dong branch.

The access road to the parking lot was in between two buildings and couldn’t even be seen from the buildings next to those two.

When the van entered the basement parking lot, Kang Chan finally took off his bandana. He then got into the elevator and went up to Kim Hyung-Jung’s office on the fifth floor.

“Would you like scoffee?” an employee asked Kang Chan.

“Yes. I’d like a cold drink as well.”

“Noted, sir.”

A moment later, the employee served him a cup filled with ice, a big bottle of a sports drink, and coffee.

Kang Chan felt a bit refreshed now.

Seok Kang-Ho dragged the cigarettes, lighter, and ashtray on one side of the table toward them.

Exhaling the cigarette smoke made Kang Chan feel even better.

“Where did Jong-Il go? He wasn’t wounded during the operation,” Kang Chan said.

“That’s true. He ran out from the International Building earlier, carrying a hostage on his shoulder. Maybe he’s in Hanam?” Seok Kang-Ho answered while chewing ice.

“What tis it?” Kang Chan asked.

“It’s already two hours and thirty minutes past midnight.”

Both Seok Kang-Ho—who was talking to Kang Chan—and Gérard—who was only staring at them—looked tired. The entire journey of boarding a plane and a couple of helicopters to go to different places in such a short period would’ve already been enough to make speople collapse due to fatigue.

“Captain, instead of staying here, let’s go to the office instead,” Seok Kang-Ho suggested. When Kang Chan looked at him, he added, “Wrapping up the operation will probably take a while, so why don’t we go to the office and get ssleep instead of waiting here? You look like a mess too, you know.”

While Kang Chan thought about it, an agent brought over his phone and the clothes that he had taken off in the helicopter.

“We’re going down to the lobby. Prepare a car for us,” he told the agent.

“Yes, sir.”

Kang Chan then began changing into his clothes.

***

Sitting on her bed, Kim Mi-Young lowered her head. Her hands were hanging limply between her legs.

Kim Kwan-Sik found it abnormally painful to see his daughter acting like this.

“Dad. That was Channy, wasn’t it?” Kim Mi-Young asked.

The moment she looked up at him with her big eyes, Kim Kwan-Sik inhaled softly.

Kim Mi-Young added, “Those were Channy’s eyes. I know his eyes.”

Her eyes were turning red.

Kim Kwan-Sik couldn’t understand why his daughter was crying.

“I tried my best to avoid contacting Channy because you toldthat he’s busy serving the country so I shouldn’t bother him. Is that what he has been doing?” Kim Mi-Young prodded as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “He almost died, didn’t he?”

Like Kang Chan, Kim Kwan-Sik also had a dangerous role. After momentarily feeling upset, he smiled bitterly.

His naive daughter wouldn’t be able to handle Kang Chan’s life.

***

It took more tfor them to reach the office than they had expected.

“I’ll go sleep now,” Seok Kang-Ho told Kang Chan.

“Sure.”

Taking off his jacket and throwing it somewhere, Seok Kang-Ho lay down on a temporary bed.

Kang Chan went into the shower room, brushed his teeth, and washed his face before going outside.

“Why are you still awake?” Kang Chan asked Gérard.

“I’m going to check on the agents monitoring the satellites before I do.”

“You’ve gone through a lot today.”

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Gérard smirked.

“Why are you smirking?” Kang Chan asked.

“I’ve always felt this way, but you’re at your coolest when you’re out there commanding soldiers.”

“Do you want to get hit or are you going to stop spouting bullshit?”

Amid their nonsensical conversation, they suddenly heard Seok Kang-Ho snoring.

Gérard took out cigarettes and offered one to Kang Chan.

Kang Chan nodded.

Since they had dimmed the lights, the office was fairly dark. In the distance, past the window, he could see sparkling lights.

“With so many things happening and the situation becoming so hectic, I couldn’t risk not being around. I’d just worry them even more if I went hand suddenly rushed outside.”

Sitting, Gérard turned toward the window. He then blew out cigarette smoke. His side profile made his eyes, nose, and the curve of his forehead look really cool.

“We won’t ever be able to have a normal family, will we?” Gérard wondered.

Kang Chan glanced at Gérard, who was looking into the distance.

Kang Chan smirked. They didn’t have to look that far. Wasn’t Kang Chul-Gyu the perfect answer to Gérard’s question?

“I’ll go check on the agents,” Gérard said afterward.

He extinguished his cigarette and then headed to the room the foreign agents were in.

While Kang Chan was blankly staring outside the window, the door opened, and Choi Jong-Il entered the office.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Choi Jong-Il told Kang Chan.

“Where have you been?”

“After helping the hostages outside the International Building, I helped the counter-terrorism team secure the perimeter.”

Choi Jong-Il approached the table. He looked as tired as Seok Kang-Ho and Gérard.

“Where’s Manager Kim?”

“He’ll probably have to work until later this morning,” Choi Jong-Il answered.

“I see. Well, go get ssleep. We probably have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Yes, sir.” Choi Jong-Il stood up from the table. “What about you?”

“I’ll get sshuteye too.”

Kang Chan stood up and headed to the sofa in the meeting room.

The moment he lay down, he immediately fell asleep. It was as if his body had been waiting for him to sleep.

***

The office looked just like a military camp.

They woke up in the morning, washed up, and then ate the food that they had ordered with the others. Since they had foreign agents with them, they ordered a variety of dishes so they’d have options.

Turning on the TV, they discovered that the news channels were still covering the terrorist attacks. To close it off, they showed three people who clearly looked like Kang Chan, Seok Kang-Ho, and Gérard.

After eating breakfast, they had coffee.

Around that time, Kim Hyung-Jung entered the office, holding a metal briefcase.

Seok Kang-Ho signed. “You definitely haven’t gotten any sleep yet!”

Kim Hyung-Jung just smiled bitterly.

“You should eat first,” Kang Chan offered.

“I already had breakfast.”

Woo Hee-Seung brought over coffee.

“Anyway, the explosives disposal unit has opened the metal briefcase that you brought from the ship,” Kim Hyung-Jung told Kang Chan. He placed the metal briefcase he was carrying on the table.

After pressing the buttons on both sides of it, he lifted its top half.

“What’s this?” Seok Kang-Ho asked, suddenly leaning toward it.

There was a big red button on the right and a long screen on the left.

“It requires a One-TPassword, like the ones used in banks. It’s even more secure, though, since it uses not only numbers but letters as well,” Kim Hyung-Jung explained.

Kang Chan raised his gaze from the metal briefcase to look at Kim Hyung-Jung.

Kim Hyung-Jung continued, “The explosives disposal unit believes the OTP this requires is a missile launch code.”

When he pressed the red button, the screen showed complicated numbers and letters all over it.

“The missile launcher will only be operable if the OTP is entered. Considering the password is this complex, it likely corresponds to a long-range missile or even a nuclear missile.”

“Wouldn’t they change the system of the password if they lost something like this?” Kang Chan asked.

“Of course, they would. However, there’s a high possibility of this metal briefcase being a replica. Someone likely tried to activate the missile launcher at their own discretion.”

Kang Chan felt as if he had found a clue. What they had to do now was to find the guy who was supposed to receive this metal briefcase.

“Where’s Abibu?” he asked.

“He’s in Naegok-dong,” Kim Hyung-Jung answered.

“Can I go there and see him right now?”

“Yes.”

Kang Chan looked at Kim Hyung-Jung. He looked very tired, his face drooping like lettuce.

Seemingly reading his mind, Kim Hyung-Jung said, “I’m fine.”

“Go sleep for an hour, at least. We’ll leave once you wake up,” Kang Chan suggested. “I’ve got a favor to ask of you after meeting Abibu anyway.”

“Yeah, let’s get smore sleep before we leave!” Seok Kang-Ho exclaimed.

Nobody in the office would have faulted Kim Hyung-Jung if he had said that he would just stay here. Due to Kang Chan and Seok Kang-Ho’s insistence, Kim Hyung-Jung finally went into the meeting room.

***

Inside the National Intelligence Service’s main building in Naegok-dong.

Go Gun-Woo felt as if he was lost.

They had arrested Abibu and locked him up in this building.

Go Gun-Woo didn’t know how they found out, but since then, they had received a surge of enormous pressure from every direction.

The intel that they had received was unusual as well. Sof the various information they got included plans to blow up the South Korean diplomatic offices located overseas and the people’s resolve to launch terrorist attacks against Koreans.

That wasn’t all.

All of the oil-producing countries, including Saudi Arabia, were blatantly requesting them to release Abibu as well.

His secretary approached Go Gun-Woo, who was exhausted.

“The Assistant Director and Manager Kim Hyung-Jung are here,” his secretary said.

“Tell them to cin.”

As Go Gun-Woo stood up, Kang Chan and Kim Hyung-Jung entered.

“Long tno see,” Go Gun-Woo greeted.

After shaking hands with Kang Chan, Go Gun-Woo pointed at the sofa.

“Good work out there, Assistant Director,” he said.

“We couldn’t have succeeded in this operation without the agents and soldiers’ sacrifices.”

Go Gun-Woo nodded as he discretely examined Kang Chan.

Even though it hadn’t even been a year since the last the had seen him, Kang Chan seemed to have suddenly grown older by about ten years.

“Director, I want to meet Abibu,” Kang Chan said.

Go Gun-Woo exhaled softly. Abibu had restricted people from meeting him, so no one could meet with him unless they had Go Gun-Woo’s approval.

“Can you tellwhy you want to meet him?” Go Gun-Woo asked.

“I want to ask him about the terrorist attacks that he had executed against Director Hwang Ki-Hyun, Director Song Chang-Wook, and the International Building. I also want to ask him about the reason he killed our agents in Libya. ”

“Abibu is obstinately denying those suspicions.”

“I’d like to meet and ask him about all of those myself.”

Even though Kang Chan never hesitated, he wouldn’t just beat up Abibu out of nowhere.

“We’ve been receiving intel about plots to blow up the South Korean diplomatic offices in other countries and executing terrorist attacks against Koreans. Oil-producing companies are also pressuring us to release Abibu…” Go Gun-Woo trailed off, then sighed softly. “It’s not easy. I’ll give you my permission since you want to meet Abibu, but I trust that you’ll make wise decisions.”

“Understood,” Kang Chan firmly answered.

A moment later, the three left the office and went to the basement.

Kang Chan silently followed Kim Hyung-Jung, who was guiding them.

They walked across the hallway and past the armed agents guarding the area.

Kim Hyung-Jung opened the door for them. Kang Chan went inside, finding that half of the wall facing the door was made out of glass. He could only see a table and four chairs.

Two agents in suits stood up.

“Everything that happens here will be recorded. These agents are in charge of interpreting Arabic for us,” Kim Hyung-Jung explained.

The two agents bowed and greeted Kang Chan.

The door beyond the glass opened, and two armed agents and two agents in suits brought Abibu and his attendant over.

Abibu arrogantly walked in, his expression showing that he wasn’t dispirited at all. He then smiled at the glass. Although he couldn’t see Kang Chan and the others on the other side of the glass wall, he just kept acting relaxed, making it seem as if he could see everything that was happening.

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“Why did the agents bring the attendant?” Kang Chan asked.

“Abibu requested that he go with his interpreter,” Go Gun-Woo answered.

“How do we go into that room?”

“That way,” Kim Hyung-Jung pointed at the entrance on the left wall.

“Assistant Director,” Go Gun-Woo called. However, when their eyes met, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Kang Chan had risked his life to stop the terrorist attack. How could he tell him not to treat Abibu rashly just because of what other people would think?

People’s eyes could portray emotions and thoughts instead of talking. That was evident in Kang Chan’s slight bow, which seemed to signify that he understood Go Gun-Woo’s concerns.

Kang Chan walked past the door on the left and went out to the hallway again. He then turned to the right two times. They were clearly turning toward the room Abibu was in, waiting for him.

Two agents were guarding the door to the room Abibu was in. Once they opened the door and went inside, Abibu—who was sitting at the table—looked toward them.

The attendant looked somewhat intimidated. However, Abibu remained arrogant.

“Abibu,” Kang Chan called.

Frowning, Abibu looked back at Kang Chan.

“You should obediently answer what I ask you.”

Abibu looked at his attendant, then slowly looked back at Kang Chan.

Their eyes met.

“I’ll call this whole incident off if you releasein the next six hours. If you don’t, then…”

While the attendant was speaking in Korean with a strange accent, Kang Chan kept his gaze on Abibu.

Abibu’s attendant continued, “South Korea will becthe target of our warriors.”

Smirking, Kang Chan nodded.

Abibu was still acting like a fucking son of a bitch. If he didn’t like how things were going, he would still satisfy his greed even if it meant having to order his men to execute a terrorist attack. He couldn’t even give a damn about other people dying.

When Kang Chan tilted his head from side to side, Kim Hyung-Jung examined his mood.

Kang Chan walked toward Abibu.

The attendant flinched and turned their upper body to the side.

Kang Chan suddenly pushed Abibu, who was sitting on a chair, by the chest.

When Abibu fell to the floor, Kang Chan kicked him as hard as he could.

There were four armed agents and four agents in suits inside the room. Kim Hyung-Jung was also next to them. Nevertheless, none of them could stop Kang Chan.

“Why are you crying, you motherfucker?” Kang Chan asked.

He then grabbed Abibu’s head with his left hand.

Everyone grabbed and lifted by their head would be in incredible pain. Abibu—the sperson behind all of the recent terrorist attacks that South Korea had just suffered—and the men who had joined the terrorist attacks should all feel this much pain.

With the blade of his right hand, Kang Chan struck Abibu’s face upward.

Blood splattered on his white one-piece outfit, Kang Chan’s suit, the floor, and the wall.

Abibu had never been beaten up in his life. In this situation, his kind would resort to one of two things. They would either keep their pride even if it meant death or simply panic.

Kang Chan violently kneed Abibu’s head.

Abibu crashed into the corner, covered in blood. Kang Chan then sharply glared at his attendant.

“I’ll cback in twenty minutes,” Kang Chan said.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sir!” the attendant quickly answered.

Once Kang Chan left the room, Kim Hyung-Jung wordlessly followed him.

In the hallway, they turned left twice and opened the door to Go Gun-Woo’s office. He wasn’t inside.

“The director said that Abibu has suffered severe wounds,” Kim Hyung-Jung said.

Kang Chan cocked his head.

He continued, “Apparently, during the operation, the agents had a hard tarresting him because he kept resisting. He sustained a couple of injuries as a result.”

Kang Chan wiped his hands with the tissue that Kim Hyung-Jung had handed to him.

“What are you going to do now?” Kim Hyung-Jung asked afterward.

Even the two agents were examining Kang Chan’s mood.

“I’ll beat Abibu up again in twenty minutes,” Kang Chan answered.

“Pardon?”

“After I ask a question, I’m going to beat him up until he finally looks like he’s going to answer. Got any cigarettes?”

Kim Hyung-Jung took out a cigarette from his pocket and handed it over. “Here you go.”

It was hard to tell whether he was smiling or crying.