SW | Chapter 12

“…What does that mean?”

“It means if you give up now, I’ll let you go alive.”

He spoke in a tone so friendly it was hard to tell if it was a joke or a serious threat.

“If I just go back, the Director will…”

“Getting a clean disciplinary action and living as a low-ranking officer for the rest of your life might be better.”

The man who made the declaration turned to look at Guk Jiho.

“Earlier, you told me to stick close to you.”

“If you decide to stay by my side, then that’s what you’ll have to do.”

Guk Jiho chewed on his lower lip like gum. The sharp ends of his eyebrows twitched, and his hair fluttered in the wind, damp with the river’s moisture.

“Honestly, I feel like I’m being used as a pawn.”

Being led around like this right now. Even this conversation felt like a farce.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I get that I’m infiltrating an organization to investigate. But beyond that, I know nothing. And now you’re telling me to make a choice?”

Baek Haegyeon nodded a couple of times casually, then took in another breath of smoke. The smoke lingered in the air for a long time as he exhaled.

“Guk Jiho, you almost died today.”

“Yeah.”

His quick reply carried a hint of defiance.

“And I almost became the superior who got four of his subordinates killed.”

A sigh-like puff of smoke escaped Baek Haegyeon’s lips, curling into the air.

“Luckily, it’s only three for now.”

“Luckily, someone who knows how to handle themselves came along this time.”

“…”

Their conversation drifted like a ship unable to dock, floating around the core issue but never quite reaching it.

“You don’t seem like someone burning with a sense of justice, so why does the reason and purpose of the infiltration matter?”

“It’s a general curiosity. It also helps in calculating the odds of survival.”

“Calculating odds? Do you have some kind of psychic data analyst or something?”

He sneered.

“Do you think I’ll end up dying like a dog? Like my predecessors?”

At Guk Jiho’s provocative words, Baek Haegyeon began loosening the knot at his shoulder while still holding the cigarette between his lips.

The loosened tie slid to the floor. The blood-soaked part had dried and crumbled.

“You’re up against a national-level gang.”

“…I thought those had all been eradicated.”

Guk Jiho narrowed his eyes at the unexpected statement.

After a certain regime declared a “war on crime,” prosecutors and police, without regard for means or methods, sometimes even resorting to illegal tactics, dismantled nationwide gangs.

It was a near-extermination. The judicial power of South Korea was more relentless and powerful than that of any other country. This was over 30 years ago.

By modern police standards, the remaining gangsters are just local thugs who dominate their neighborhoods. Their activities are limited to illegal gambling, entertainment establishments, and credit card fraud. Petty criminals.

“They say even extinguished embers need to be checked.”

“If such a thing really exists, shouldn’t we just arrest them according to the law? Article 4 of the Violent Crimes Act…”

Guk Jiho brought up the legal basis for the “gangster extermination.”

“No, because we still don’t know exactly who’s behind it.”

“Huh?”

“Someone is uniting local gangs scattered across the country to form a nationwide force. Like a centralized system, each organization was showing characteristics of division and specialization of labor. The peculiar thing is, there’s no real entity at the root of the organization. There’s no integration or reorganization of the local groups they’ve absorbed.”

If Baek Haegyeon’s words were true, it was a bizarre situation. Organizational management starts with administrative management, but this was like a company where each team operated independently.

And it was a clear attempt to avoid the legal application of Article 4 of the Violent Crimes Act, which deals with “organized crime.” The legal requirements of “organization” and “formation” left room for interpretation.

“So, there’s someone behind it, but you don’t know exactly who, and yet these local organizations are loyal to this ghost organization? Nationwide?”

“I call him the ‘Architect.’ The one drawing the blueprint to form a nationwide gang syndicate.”.”

“…”

Guk Jiho rubbed his palms on his pants. His hands that were damp from the sea breeze felt warm against his thighs. His words didn’t fully sink in. He had thought the undercover investigation was about drug distribution or deep web digital sex crimes.

“Does this sound ridiculous to you?”

“No matter how intangible it is, if you catch and dismantle the lower organizations, the higher-ups can’t possibly remain untouched, right?”

“Surprisingly, that hasn’t happened. The money flows entirely through cryptocurrency, and those who get caught refuse to talk.”

“The Architect must be ruthless.”

“Gangsters aren’t swayed by prosecutor threats either. You’ve seen politicians and businessmen commit suicide during interrogations, but have you ever seen a gangster do that?”

“No.”

“Gangsters don’t have honor to lose or families to protect from the prosecutors’ blades.”

“I see… So that’s why you’re undercover, but if that’s the case… In the past eight years, have you made no progress in uncovering the entity of this organization?”

Baek Haegyeon couldn’t help but laugh at Guk Jiho’s frank question. A low chuckle escaped him.

“For eight years, I’ve been enduring hardships, sending whining executives abroad, and focusing on things like that.”

“Sending them abroad… Is that code for something?”

Guk Jiho’s doubt stemmed from the fact that “sending them abroad” could easily be interpreted as “sending them to the afterlife.” Gangsters probably use a lot of slang.

“No, I literally sent them abroad. They were blood brothers, so exile was enough.”

“I see…”

Blood brothers who were Hwando executives… It was surprising, but Guk Jiho tried to keep his mouth shut and not react further. As he processed this, Baek Haegyeon added more information.

“I basically staged two coups. And made a lot of money.”

“To catch the eye of the nationwide Architect?”

“It’s refreshing to see that you’re not slow.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, we’re going to start interfering in the national syndicate’s business directly. Either we’ll clash, or we’ll be absorbed. Either way, it’s fine.”

“Right… But wait.”

“Hm?”

“What should I call you? Hyungnim?”

At Guk Jiho’s question, Baek Haegyeon’s eyes sparkled as if reflecting light. He twisted his lips slightly, as if suppressing a smile, and brought up an embarrassing memory.

“You called me Haegyeon-hyung earlier.”

“That was an emergency.”

“An emergency that required a ‘hyung’?”

“Let’s move on.”

Baek Haegyeon didn’t say more, but he scrutinized Guk Jiho’s face thoroughly. His red ears, cheeks, nape, and even the red spot under his eyebrow. Even when their eyes met, he didn’t look away. He persistently examined his face until it became uncomfortable. Then, the man gave his answer.

“Call me Boss.”

“Understood, Boss… But I have another question.”

“Yes?”

He drew out the end of his sentence like a kindergarten teacher. His softened gaze and the way he looked at him were truly the eyes of an adult dealing with a child.

“If you’ve taken Hwando and removed the whining executives… Then, exactly what is your position in the organization?”

Damn Director Jang didn’t tell me anything. I’m hearing about “Hwando” for the first time now. I’ve heard of Hwando somewhere before, which makes it even more unsettling. It’s not the National Intelligence Service, and if even I, a special forces officer, know about it, it must be a large organization.

“These days, young chairmen prefer the title of CEO over chairman.”

“…”

So, not just a boss, but the CEO of the organization…

“It’s convenient now. In the past… I went through a lot of hardships every time I brought someone in. I wasn’t the chairman back then.”

“Right.”

When bringing an outsider into a closed organization, the internal backlash must have been extreme. They might have carried out torture under the guise of “verification” or “background checks.” And if Baek Haegyeon couldn’t step in to protect them, the suffering of the predecessors was obvious.

The fact that Guk Jiho didn’t show up at the airport was also because he didn’t want to be tortured abroad, even if he had to endure it. At least in Korea, the hospitals are good.

“Oh, and just to clear up any misunderstandings.”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t pick you because you were pretty.”

The man, who looked like he wouldn’t know a joke if it hit him, said this and grinned.

“What, did the Director say something like that…?”

Baek Haegyeon didn’t deny it.

Guk Jiho’s face gradually turned red. Inside, he was cursing out his sky-high superior, the Director of the Central Investigation Bureau.

Damn it, Director, how far did you go? Damn it, you only told me useless things about Baek Haegyeon!

This was absolute bullshit.