God of Blackfield

A bus pulled up to the hospital, and members of the Jeungpyeong special forces team got off with their faces covered.

“Your uniforms are in the car.”

Yoon Sang-Ki, rifle slung over his shoulder, walked over and pointed at the bus with his chin.

“Sir?” Yoon Sang-Ki called out to Cha Dong-Gyun, who was heading to the bus, with difficulty.

“What?”

“Is the assistant director really alive?”

“Shut up, punk! Manager Kim and the general kicked the shit out of me because of that.”

“Is he?”

“Yes, he’s alive!”

Soldiers approached them, wanting to confirm the facts, but when they saw Yoon Sang-Ki grinning like an idiot, they turned away in satisfaction.

***

Kang Myung-Gu of the counter-terrorism team switched shifts with the Jeungpyeong special forces team and left the hospital to check on the agents.

If another terrorist attack were to attack this place right now, the situation would be unmanageable. That was why Jeon Dae-Geuk, the security room staff, Kim Hyung-Jung, and the members of the counter-terrorism team were furiously scanning the reporters and the participants.

Chk.

“Situation report,” Kim Hyung-Jung commanded over the radio.

Chk.

“Counter-terrorism team speaking, all clear,” Kang Myung-Gu replied.

The presidential security office had taken over internal security, the 35th Brigade took charge of the perimeter, and the counter-terrorism team—commanded by Kang Myung-Gu—focused on the buildings and entrances.

“... and that is how the Republic of Korea and Saudi Arabia will continue to prepare the necessary measures for the developmental future of both countries,” Moon Jae-Hyun read his speech and gazed at Uzman, who was standing next to him on the podium.

Uzman, dressed in traditional Arab attire, with mature eyes and a wiry beard, gestured toward Moon Jae-Hyun with a thank-you before turning his attention to the front.

“First of all, I would like to thank the people of the Republic of Korea and President Moon Jae-Hyun. Saudi Arabia expresses its regret for the terrorist attacks in South Korea and acknowledges the South Korean investigation results and announcement that our former Crown Prince, Abibu, was the mastermind behind the attacks.”

Surprised gasps came from the reporters.

“We apologize unequivocally and surely for that.”

Snap, snap, snap, snap! Snap, snap! Snap, snap, snap, snap!

The announcement was unusual in terms of international diplomatic protocol. Hence, the shock of the reporters was not easily contained.

Uzman looked at the reporters for a moment, waiting for the excitement to subside.

“Saudi Arabia strongly supports South Korea’s next-generation energy projects and has expressed its willingness to invest its technology and capital. We will discuss this issue in more depth with the Korean government and at an advanced level.”

As Uzman finished speaking in formal English, a series of flashes went off, and reporters scrambled to raise their hands.

Uzman pointed to a white reporter with a long face.

“This is Robert, from CMN,” an interpreter from the newscast in South Korea said in an unaccented voice.

“Crown Prince Jibril was killed in Dubai. Is that incident related to this visit?”

Uzman leaned closer to the microphone, his face showing no change in expression.

“I came here after a meeting with the king of Dubai. The Dubai government has announced that Jibril was killed in an act of terrorism by anti-government forces, and the Saudi government has also acknowledged this.”

“What prompted you to make this sudden announcement with South Korea?” Robert asked, refusing to back down.

“South Korea is a country with many talented individuals.” Uzman glanced at Moon Jae-Hyun. “We hope to establish a friendly and progressive relationship between our country and the Republic of Korea—one that is not prone to becoming cold due to a series of recent events.”

Snap, snap. Snap, snap, snap.

“The Republic of Korea is at the forefront of the next generation of energy projects, and Saudi Arabia is eager to contribute to and cooperate in projects that will develop the economy, which is currently dependent on fossil fuels.”

A few other reporters were given a chance to speak, but none of their questions were particularly important. Uzman announced that he was taking one last question and then chose a white woman reporter.

“In your first answer, you said that there’s a lot of talent in this country. Can you name someone in particular or someone you know personally?”

Uzman, who had answered the question about Jibril’s murder without missing a beat, paused for a moment before speaking into the microphone.

“As you know, South Korea has made an incredible impact on the international community in recent years. I think that all of this is due to the people who have been working hard and doing their best,” Uzman finished, giving a response that seemed to be a nonanswer.

***

“That’s enough of this conversation,” Ziegfield coldly stated into a slender microphone, making Sherman lower his posture.

- Ziegfeld, calm down and listen to me.

Sherman, whose upper body was visible on the video screen up front, brought up Xairoa in hopes of shifting the blame to him.

- I know what you’re capable of, but since we trusted Xairo’s word, this recent incident has dealt us with a loss. A man who was supposed to be dead showed up out of nowhere and took Xairo out. How was I supposed to expect that?

Ziegfeld remained silent.

- I’m sorry to hear about Xairo, but this puts us in a difficult position as well. We have to consider our relationship with Iran, and we have to contact Mr. Kang too.

“Sherman.”

Ziegfeld didn’t seem to care, though.

“The United States cannot interfere in this operation.”

- Ziegfeld, we have no choice but to step in, even if only formally.

“So you want to show off the American military might?”

- We’ve covered up the events in Bermuda all this time. Isn’t that enough to show you the goodwill of our government? Why don’t you try to negotiate with Mr. Kang instead?

“Negotiate?”

Ziegfeld’s expression made Sherman bite his lower lip.

- I’ll mediate for you. Meet with Mr. Kang and tell him what you want. The world you’re in and the world he’s in are completely different anyway, aren’t they?

Ziegfeld glared at Sherman with a mixed expression.

Meet the Great Ant?

That would be a blow to his pride, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

- Shouldn’t you rescue Parthal as well?

“I’ve already abandoned him.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Ziegfeld glowered at Sherman. “How will you guarantee my safety?”

- He’s a man of his word.

“What do you want in exchange for your mediation?”

- A stake in the Federal Reserve and abandonment of the new gold standard.

Ziegfeld burst out laughing.

“Unless the condition is that you kill Kang Chan, you’re asking too much just to see his face once.”

- Ziegfeld.

Sherman now used a more serious tone.

- You may hold the world’s economy in your hands, but Mr. Kang is currently the most powerful man in the world of intelligence. It would serve you well not to take him too lightly. France, Russia, China, and Germany respect his word. He also has the South Korean special forces team, the world’s new most powerful infantry unit, in his palms.

“Who cares about those insects? None of them can survive a nuclear war!”

Sherman nodded at Ziegfeld’s outburst.

- I said I know what you’re capable of. However, their unity has dropped the success rate of your plan. Besides, you’ve been exposed, and that’s not something to take lightly either.

Seeing Ziegfeld’s expression, Sherman spoke again.

- Korea has never had anyone so in tune with their president, which makes it hard to use the Korean regime to get rid of him. What makes him even scarier is his lack of greed.

“How can someone with no greed build the next generation of energy facilities, connect the Eurasian Rail, and get an undersea tunnel?”

- He has no personal greed. That’s the scariest kind of person. Moreover, as I said earlier, the South Korean special forces team he created is the strongest in the world. There are some things you have to accept even if you don’t want to admit it, no? Respect Mr. Kang’s wishes and try to have a meeting with him.

Ziegfeld found it hard to respond.

- Have you ever seen a man that America couldn’t handle?

Sherman’s final question struck a chord with Ziegfeld.

***

It was well past midnight.

Kim Hyung-Jung walked over and handed him a phone.

“Just press the call button.”

Kang Chul-Gyu never knew he would feel this kind of excitement in his life. It was different from the one that came from meeting an enemy and being in a point-blank situation.

He glanced at Kim Hyung-Jung, seemingly to excuse himself, then headed toward the back of the hospital waiting room.

Nam Il-Gyu and Yang Dong-Sik watched on curiously.

Click.

In the dim light, where he could barely make things out, Kang Chul-Gyu pressed the call button.

The dial tone rang twice.

- Hello?

Kang Chul-Gyu couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t know that Kang Chan’s confident, calm voice could be so pleasing to hear.

- Hello?

“It’s me.”

Kang Chul-Gyu heard Kang Chan chuckle. Although it could be irritating, at times like these, it was reassuring.

- How are you?

“I feel a little heavy from sitting around and eating.”

This time, Kang Chan laughed weakly.

- This was the best plan I could come up with. I need help to execute it properly.

“I heard it’s an island. We’re not trained for sea infiltration, so you’ll have to factor that into your calculations.”

- You’ll probably be moving with the Jeungpyeong guys. I’ll see if there’s anything I can do that’s effective. What about jumping and parachuting down?

“Easy enough.”

- Alright. That aside, I have a difficult favor to ask.

Kang Chul-Gyu listened to Kang Chan for a moment and nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do. Oh, if I call you, will you pick up?”

- This number is my public one. I can answer calls to this number at any time.

“Understood. When do we head out?”

- I’ll let you know. Probably within the next three days.

“Got it.”

Kang Chul-Gyu awkwardly looked at the vending machine in front of him. Strangely, when talking to Kang Chan, he found it especially awkward when he had to hang up.

- I’ll see you at the operation.

After ending the call, Kang Chul-Gyu looked at the phone once and went back to Kim Hyung-Jung.

***

Kang Chul-Gyu had already visited this room when he first arrived at the hospital.

Creak.

It was time to sleep. However, when he opened the door to the room, he saw Kang Dae-Kyung still sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

“What brings you here at this time, sir…?”

“I apologize for the late visit. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?”

Kang Dae-Kyung looked at Yoo Hye-Sook, who was lying in bed, then picked up his cardigan and pulled himself up.

His eyes were bloodshot, and exhaustion was evident on his face.

Perhaps that was to be expected after losing his son and watching his wife stand at death’s door.

Kang Chul-Gyu headed straight for the elevator.

Ahead of them, the Jeungpyeong special forces team was standing on guard with rifles.

Once the elevator doors closed, Kang Chul-Gyu pressed the button to the top of the building.

Whoosh.

A completely distraught Kang Dae-Kyung and the not-so-talkative Kang Chul-Gyu in the same elevator naturally meant the elevator was going to be silent on the way up.

Ding.

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened.

“There’s a park on the roof. I was thinking of going there.”

“Alright,” Kang Dae-Kyung replied with a curious face, wondering why Kang Chul-Gyu had asked him to come here. He wanted to know, but there was only a flight of stairs to the rooftop. Kang Chul-Gyu would tell him soon, so there was no need to rush him.

Clunk!

The rooftop doors opened noisily.

Click! Click!

Two soldiers walked over and saluted Kang Chul-Gyu, then went back to their spots.

“Let’s sit over there for a moment.”

Kang Chul-Gyu went to a wooden bench with Kang Dae-Kyung.

The buildings around them were glowing brightly, seemingly defying the night.

Under Kang Dae-Kyung’s gaze, Kang Chul-Gyu began to speak with difficulty.

“Someone must have been given an assassination mission.”

“To kill me?”

“No, not like that,” Kang Chul-Gyu replied quickly. “I heard someone close to him tried to assassinate him. That was why when he was shot, he had no choice but to announce that he was dead and hide the truth from everyone.”

Kang Dae-Kyung waited for Kang Chul-Gyu to continue. He was confused, but his eyes held a strand of desperate hope.

Kang Chul-Gyu looked him straight in the eye. “It’s about your son.”

What…?

Kang Dae-Kyung looked as if he had been slapped hard on the cheek. Kang Chul-Gyu nodded at him.

“I heard the president found out today too.”

“Wait… Wait.”

Kang Dae-Kyung shifted his gaze toward the light and looked back at Kang Chul-Gyu.

“So are you saying our Channy, my son, is alive?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Haah!” Kang Dae-Kyung gasped, completely taken by shock.

He heard Kang Chan was dead. He knew his son was the leader of the NIS’s counter-terrorism team, that he subjugated the terrorist attack on the International Building, and that the UIS deemed him a public enemy.

However…

All those chrysanthemums and citizens surrounding the hospital, the newscasts that had been repeated over and over again…

Kang Dae-Kyung gazed back up at Kang Chul-Gyu.

“Then…. Where is my child… Where is my son?”

“He’s in France. He will pick up if you call him.”

Dazed, Kang Dae-Kyung looked through his pocket and pulled out his phone. His hands were shaking so hard that Kang Chul-Gyu had to look away.

Kang Dae-Kyung pressed the call button and raised the phone to his ear.

A moment later…

- Hello? Father?

Kang Dae-Kyung broke into tears.

- I’m sorry, Father. I’m so sorry.

Kang Chan tried multiple times to talk to him, but Kang Dae-Kyung just kept crying.

***

Click, click.

Cha Dong-Gyun and Kwak Cheol-Ho entered the hospital room with helmets, masks that covered half of their faces, black military uniforms, and body armor. They also carried magazines, pistols, bayonets, and rifles over their shoulders.

Seok Kang-Ho, Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-Hee had stitches all over their faces, reminiscent of Frankenstein.

“Why did you come in so scary-looking?”

Seok Kang-Ho’s words came out slurred because he was on a strong drug and his lips couldn’t move properly.

“Got any cigarettes?”

“They say you should hold out for today.”

“Who said that?”

“Me. Let’s just wait for the stitches to heal, at least,” Yoo Hun-Woo rebuked just then, entering the room after Kwak Cheol-Ho. “You’ve got severe injuries in your mouth that won’t close if you smoke. You also have an appointment with the dentist tomorrow.”

Seok Kang-Ho groaned regretfully.

“Until your dentist evaluation tomorrow, no cigarettes or coffee.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I’ll probably collapse first treating you men. What’s so good about a damn cigarette anyway?”

Yoo Hun-Woo glared at Cha Dong-Gyun and Kwak Cheol-Ho suspiciously.

“We’ll never give him any.”

Yoo Hun-Woo left the room with a skeptical expression.

“Is everything with that incident settled?” Seok Kang-Ho asked with difficulty, then swallowed hard.

“The Saudi royal family made a joint announcement with the president today. They apologized for everything that happened, including the International Building incident.”

Seok Kang-Ho laughed with satisfaction.

“Manager Kim came by earlier. Did you see him?”

“No.”

Seok Kang-Ho turned his gaze to ask what he was talking about when the door slid open. Kim Hyung-Jung walked in.

“Mr. Seok!”

Kim Hyung-Jung quickly approached the side of the bed.

“I came by earlier and heard you were sleeping, so I just left. How are you?”

“Alive. Got any cigarettes?”

Kim Hyung-Jung glanced at Cha Dong-Gyun and Kwak Cheol-Ho, who simply avoided his gaze and shrugged.

“I don’t think you should smoke right now.”

“Hey! Not you too!”

Seok Kang-Ho struggled to turn around, finding Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-Hee looking at Kim Hyung-Jung.

“I didn’t treat you this way when you came from Mongolia,” Seok Kang-Ho decisively said.

“Fine. Open the windows and turn on the air purifier.”

As if he didn’t have any other choice, Kim Hyung-Jung lit four cigarettes and placed one each in the men’s mouths.

Seok Kang-Ho laughed once more. “Phuhu.”

“Did you get in touch with the captain?”

“Yes. I just got off the phone with Kang Chul-Gyu Sunbae-nim earlier as well.”

“When are we leaving?”

“In a few days, I was told.”

Ash was starting to form on the cigarettes, so Kim Hyung-Jung and Kwak Cheol-Ho took paper cups and tapped them off.

“I’ll be up tomorrow,” Seok Kang-Ho remarked.

Kim Hyung-Jung shook his head, but he couldn’t say no.

Who would want to sit out on a mission with Kang Chan right now? Even Kim Hyung-Jung wanted to go!

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