Chapter 9 :

<9>

The Sang-dong faction was an organization formed by its boss Jeong Sang-dong in 1990, and it only began to truly resemble a proper organization in 1992. Now, more than ten years have passed since its founding, and it had grown into a respectable mid-tier organization.

Their main business was illegal immigration, smuggling, and retailing some of the smuggled goods. Unlike most established organizations that operated at least partly within legal frameworks, the Sang-dong faction focused almost entirely on illegal but highly profitable work. Because of that, their reputation in the industry never rose above that of a gang of petty thugs.

In Yeongdeungpo's entertainment district, a black grandeur sedan slid into the parking lot of an old cabaret. The moment the engine shut off, the men in the driver’s seat and passenger seat jumped out and opened the rear door.

The man who stepped out with enough force to make the car rock was someone named Cheon Yeong-hu, a mid-level executive of Sang-dong faction, and one of the few close friends and trusted confidants of Jeong Sang-dong.

This giant of a man, who had cauliflower ears from wrestling in his student days, looked like a gorilla in a suit, making the waiters who came out to greet him look as small as children reaching only to his chest.

Most of the waiters were holding their faces or had their clothes half torn open, and no matter how one looked at them, they were not dressed to welcome guests. The moment they saw Cheon Yeong-hu, they greeted him enthusiastically.

“Have you arrived, elder brother!”

“It’s complete chaos inside right now. But that bastard keeps looking for you.”

“Elder brother?”

At that moment, Cheon Yeong-hu’s expression twisted. His already intimidating face became a hideous mask one could barely stand to look at, and the waiters shrank back in fear. Still, Cheon Yeong-hu was not the type to throw punches first.

Other people cursed him as an executive of a thug organization, but both he and Jeong Sang-dong actually possessed fairly managerial dispositions.

“Look at these damn bastards. Elder brother? Are you trying to show off that you’re hoodlums right now?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“How long are you idiots going to keep using that end-of-the-century kind of talk? Didn't I tell you to fix that way of speaking? We need to clean up our terminology now. Don’t show off that you’re gang trash for no reason. got it? From now on, call me senior. huh? Anyway, the idiots who call me over for something like this are supposed to be waiters. Damn it.”

After saying that, he walked through the waiters. A sigh of relief escaped among them.

“This is insane. It’s not like we’re in our prime youth, what kind of ‘senior’ is that. Just look at this old cabaret. Damn it. Isn't there any way to move to a room salon? I’m going to waste away dealing with nothing but grandpas and grandmas.”

“Keep it down. He might hear.”

“Senior—no, senior, isn’t he not even forty yet?”

While the waiters were talking, the self-proclaimed “senior” went up to the cabaret floor. To describe the situation upstairs in a single word, it was hard to find any expression more fitting than “complete chaos”.

Several waiters were already lying neatly on the floor, and cups and shattered bottles were scattered everywhere, reflecting the flashing lights as they lay across the ground.

The person responsible for this rampage was standing between makeshift barricades built by stacking tables, watching his surroundings. He had pulled a baseball cap low over his face, making it impossible to recognize him. His build looked somewhat thin, but considering how many waiters he had knocked down, he clearly knew how to fight.

‘What is this guy?’

Cheon Yeong-hu suddenly recalled how a club previously run by the Sang-dong faction had been completely wiped out by some foreigner, and he clicked his tongue inwardly. The Sang-dong faction had earned some resentment from other organizations because of how much dirty work it did, but there had never been any open hostilities over that.

To them, it had been an attack they could not understand. Because of that, it was only natural to associate this guy who had barged in and was causing trouble for no apparent reason with that incident.

‘Is that bastard the same one? No, he doesn’t look like a foreigner.’

The man, fully prepared, had the waiters seated around the tables as if he were staging some kind of hostage situation. Cheon Yeong-hu shouted angrily at the man in the baseball cap.

“Hey, you bastard! No matter what, this is too much. I've never seen a punk like you before. What the hell do you think you’re doing, coming into a civilian business like this?”

It might sound ridiculous for a gangster to say such a thing, but there was actually some logic to it. Cabarets and nightclubs were mostly run with private capital, and organizations usually aimed only for personnel influence or similar interests.

Since the war on crime, most organizations had shrunk in size, making it difficult for them to protect large businesses directly. So for someone to cause this kind of trouble in a private business, it was understandable for such words to come out.

“Well. I clearly paid the deposit, but they didn’t give me the goods. That's why this happened. And even if it’s a private business, don’t you guys control the personnel here? In other words, this is your territory, right?”

After saying that, he sat down on a chair and took out his phone. Cheon Yeong-hu clicked his tongue at the sight.

“This bastard is done for. Just call the police. Hey, manager?”

Cheon Yeong-hu said so and looked at the manager, but the manager shook his head repeatedly.

“Th-that’s not it. That guy says he’ll report it to the police himself……”

“What?”

Sure enough, the young man in the baseball cap was holding a phone, looking as if he could make the call at any moment. Cheon Yeong-hu stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you screwing with me right now?”

“All I need is the goods. It would be better not to make this bigger. You Sang-dong thugs even deal drugs, right? If the cops start breathing down your necks over something like this, you’ll be seriously fucked, won’t you?”

There was no need to explain how badly those words irritated Cheon Yeong-hu. Even his crushed ears were turning bright red, obvious even under the dark cabaret lights.

“You little bastard, you’ve really got some nerve! I'll slice you up!”

Two hot-headed gangsters moved first. Pulling out a sashimi knife and a long iron pipe, they charged straight in, clearly intending to kill him, living up to their reputation as a thug group. But the one in the baseball cap was faster.

Crash!

Just twice—along with the sound of thick crystal glasses shattering, both men collapsed in a bloody heap. Thrown with a shoulder strong enough to be mistaken for a baseball player’s, the crystal glasses smashed into them, and no matter how tough a gangster might be, it was only natural for them to go down screaming in pain.

Moreover, once your face is covered in blood, no matter how gutsy you are, you cannot keep fighting. In an instant, two fists were rendered completely combat-ineffective.

“I definitely paid a deposit of five million won. I'm just being wronged. Or do you want to talk about it with the police? I'm still a minor, you know?”

“What did you say!”

At that moment, Cheon Yeong-hu was so dumbfounded that his mouth fell open. Even for someone who had spent his entire life in organized crime, this was a first. If a minor stormed into a cabaret, trashed the place, and picked a fight by dangling the police as bait, it would become a neighborhood joke.

But reporting it would not merely end with a loss of face. As the man in the baseball cap said, Sang-dong faction was already being watched closely by the police, and if the police really showed up, that kid would at most end up in a juvenile detention center, while the Sang-dong faction would be completely ruined as an organization.

They had really picked the wrong target.

‘Damn it. We’re really screwed. Does that mean all these guys got taken down by a single high school punk?’

Cheon Yeong-hu felt as though his insides were burning to the point of bursting, but he shut his mouth. If fighting someone would only bring losses, changing one’s face was his specialty.

“All right, all right. Fine. Business talk should be done inside. Kid, don’t you think you’ve interfered with business enough?”

“Do you think I got shot in the head and moved into a new house? I’m alive because I'm holding out right here. If I move from here, you’ll try to snap my neck, won’t you? Since I’m already fucked, why not keep being fucked right here?”

The baseball cap sneered. To Cheon Yeong-hu, it felt like he had finally met his match.

Not only could he not strangle the guy even though he was furious, he was even losing in a battle of words. His blood pressure surged, but he could not beat up a minor in a public place. Grinding his teeth, he suppressed his anger.

“Ah, fine. Fine. Kid. Let's talk here. Who did you give the money to?”

“Bongsu. Five million won in cash went to some underling, and you, an executive, didn’t know? What a real thug organization.”

At that moment, the person in front of Cheon Yeong-hu looked like minced meat to him. He felt like grinding him up and drinking him down. But forcing himself to hold back, Cheon Yeong-hu asked,

“Did that bastard pocket it himself?”

“Either way, you’re responsible for failing to manage your subordinates. Just give me the goods and I won't say anything. After that, it’s your internal problem.”

“All right. What goods?”

“Dragunov, Tokarev, and AK-47.”

“What?”

The moment that happened, all the color drained from Cheon Yeong-hu’s face. It was only because the manager had sensed the situation and sent all the customers and employees out, but if anyone had overheard, it would have turned into a disaster.

Although it was true that the Sang-dong faction was an incorrigible thug organization that smuggled weapons, those were strictly items kept for internal use, not something they would casually sell to outsiders.

If they sold them to someone and that person got caught robbing a bank or something, the entire organization would be wiped out without a trace.

Because the guy had simply called it “goods”, Cheon Yeong-hu had assumed it meant drugs and let it slide, but now he thought it would have been better to pretend he didn’t know Bongsu at all. selling firearms to a minor, and heavy weapons like an AK or a Dragunov at that!

“T-that, for only five million won?”

“Compared to the market price, that’s an outrageous rip-off anyway, isn’t it? Even a passing dog knows that the Sang-dong faction distributes Russian and Chinese weapons. It's hardly a secret.”

“A-alright. Fine. Let's set an appointment. We can't exactly make a deal here, can we? It’s not like the goods will just come out of someone’s pocket.”

“Sure. Then your territory is dangerous, so let’s do it in Yeouido. See you tomorrow at eight at the Hanshin securities parking lot. I'm leaving.”

After saying that, the young man in the baseball cap sprang up onto the table and slipped through the obstacles like lightning. The waiters who had been standing by at the entrance immediately tried to grab him, but as if he were a boxer, he ducked their punches and simply ran straight outside.

Once you got out toward the Yeongdeungpo side, it led straight to a main road, so no matter how powerful the Sang-dong faction was, there was nothing they could do.

“That little blood-soaked bastard!”

Only then did Cheon Yeong-hu finally explode in anger and rage uncontrollably. But the target of his fury was already gone.

* * *

Buaaaaang!

Se-geon rode his RX-125 and sped toward the gym. It was already deep into the night, and all the street shops had their shutters down, but the small kickboxing gym near a residential area still had its blue fluorescent lights on. Se-geon got off his motorcycle, hung up his helmet, and walked up the stairs.

“Hey, Se-geon. You’re late.”

Song Deok-yeon, a retired soldier who had arrived early and was getting ready, was warming up and waiting.

“Yes.”

Se-geon replied and took a baseball cap out of his jacket, tossing it on top of a locker. Then he took off his clothes. Thanks to training together with Deok-yeon for the past year, Se-geon’s body had become as solid as that of a professional athlete.

However, he still had no real combat experience and did not own a personal firearm. That was because Deok-yeon worried about Se-geon’s body and had not yet sent him into actual operations.

“Don’t tell me you already went and had a fight?”

“Huh? No.”

Se-geon pretended not to know as he put on his trunks and stretched, but Deok-yeon shook his head.

“You’re still completely lacking, you idiot. So don't get any strange ideas and just train properly.”

“Yes.”

Se-geon answered and let out a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed that Deok-yeon had only made a guess and had not realized that Se-geon had actually gone and caused trouble.

“Hey, is that Se-geon?”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t you want to enter the rookie championship? Gyu-seong seems to have too weak a chin to manage it.”

“Oh, come on. What could I do? I'm already falling apart myself, I can't do something like that.”

Se-geon said that and climbed up into the ring. Deok-yeon, who had a rather small build, was waiting there. Although he was old, Song Deok-yeon, a former special forces sergeant, was truly a monstrous man.

Because of the drugs he had been given when fighting vampires, he even suffered from tremors in his daily life, but once he entered a fight, he paid no attention to such things and crushed bodies with precise punches and kicks.

Even for Se-geon, who had quit school and devoted himself solely to combat training for the past year, it was still more than he could handle.

Smack!

As expected, Se-geon collapsed after a single high kick from Deok-yeon. He had blocked it with his arm, but the guarded arm itself was smashed into his head.

“Owwwwww.”

“You brat, don’t whine over something like that. After putting you through hell for a whole year, you still haven’t come to your senses.”

“That’s not the point, isn’t that high kick way too powerful?”

“You stupid bastard. You're whining after getting hit by a half-dead old man like me?”

Deok-yeon said that and drove his knee into the ring corner. The ropes shook violently with a creaking sound.

No matter how he looked at it, it did not seem like the strength of a “half-dead old man”, but Se-geon kept his mouth shut. The gym coach, who had been coaching, slapped a large muay thai sandbag with his palm and looked at Se-geon and Deok-yeon.

“You’re neither gangsters nor cops, so why are you pushing your bodies this hard? And you don’t even compete. Sheesh."

“That’s true. Hahaha.”

Deok-yeon replied and looked back at Se-geon. Recently, Se-geon had been heated up, asking to get a gun and saying that he wanted to start hunting vampires himself. After being tormented by brutal training for a year, it was not strange for frustration to build up.

But Se-geon was still in his growth phase, and the drug taken by vampire hunters, Psychedelic Moon, had terrifying side effects. Honestly, Deok-yeon wanted to delay letting him use psychedelic moon for as long as possible.

“Don’t start getting dissatisfied already when you’re not even a match for me. I know your body is itching because you’ve improved a bit, but don’t go picking fights with random people. Got it?”

“You’re worrying too much. That won’t happen.”

Se-geon said that and began shadowboxing in the ring.