Grumbling, Jessica pulled a thick stack of papers from her bag and set them on the table.
“There’s an organization called Daedonghoe. I only found out about it recently. The CIA doesn’t have any data, but the NSA does.”
It made sense that the NSA would be managing Daedonghoe—an organization that naturally formed during the post–Pacific War settlement.
Still, there’s no way the CIA didn’t know about it.
“Even at the NSA, the data can only be accessed by top-level officials. I think I’ve earned my meal this time, don’t you?”
“When you say the CIA doesn’t have any data, do you mean the CIA doesn’t know Daedonghoe exists at all?”
“I didn’t dig that deep. If I did, they’d notice. There’s a limit to what I can do alone. Still, it’s better than getting caught, right?”
I gave a small nod and reached for the papers on the table.
Jessica, however, pulled them sharply toward her side.
“What’s this? You should hand over your part first.”
Her prim tone made me laugh faintly. She didn’t stop acting coy. Now that I looked again—wasn’t this just like Han Kyungyeong?
“If Charlie’s information turns out to be wrong, I’m the one who has to take the fall. If this gets exposed, I could end up in handcuffs.”
She stretched her wrists forward, pretending to be cuffed.
“So, hand your part over first.”
Jessica had a point. Since she was acting without her superior’s knowledge, the risk was indeed high. I gave a slight nod toward Manager Ma.
Manager Ma opened the suitcase he had brought. After rummaging briefly, he pulled out a brown envelope and placed it on the table.
I took it from him, looked at Jessica, and smiled.
“All the information is inside here.”
A spark lit in Jessica’s eyes. She reached forward impatiently.
“Give it to me.”
“Don’t you think the weight of the information is different?”
I shook the envelope teasingly. Jessica’s eyes turned sharp.
“We agreed to trade! I really overextended myself this time, you know.”
“If this information helps stop a terrorist attack and capture members of Al-Qaeda, then Jessica will be promoted, won’t she?”
Jessica admitted honestly.
“Al-Qaeda intel is extremely valuable. Charlie, you know that. We still can’t even find a trace of Bin Laden. We already suspect possible terror activity in Southeast Asia, but we can’t just declare Bali a no-travel zone without evidence. If your intel is solid, it’s worth far more than what I’m offering.”
Her frank answer made the corner of my mouth lift.
Still useful. At least until she starts lying.
“So you’ll owe me?”
“Ha······.”
Jessica let out a long sigh and held out her hand.
“Fine. If you need help next time, I’ll help.”
Only then did I hand the envelope to her.
She snatched it from my hand and tore it open on the spot, immediately scanning through the documents inside.
With every page she flipped, Jessica’s expression wavered.
I waited silently, letting her review everything carefully.
Han Kyungyeong shrugged toward her, and I smiled faintly as I lifted my coffee cup.
After quite a while, Jessica finally spoke.
“······This is all real, isn’t it?” ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
“Yes. They’ll likely act before the year’s over. You’re already familiar with a group called Jemaah Islamiyah, right?”
“Yes. Jemaah Islamiyah operates across Indonesia, southern Philippines, and Malaysia—an Islamic extremist organization. But I didn’t know they were linked to Al-Qaeda.”
“There’s a secret Al-Qaeda training camp in Indonesia. I don’t know its exact location.”
I reiterated what was already in the file.
“But with that much data, you’ll find it easily. You’re America, after all.”
Jessica carefully placed the documents back into the envelope.
“Of course. We’re the United States.”
Her tone was full of patriotic pride.
“Anyway, several people trained at that Al-Qaeda camp. The man at the top, Ham Bali, is the ringleader.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope it leads to good results.”
At last, she handed over the material she had brought.
I took it, untied the seal, and began to read slowly.
As I went through the pages, Jessica added commentary here and there.
“I just can’t understand how a group like that could emerge after the war. Practically every founding member was a war criminal.”
I listened to her while continuing to read.
The International Military Tribunal for the Far East, begun in 1946, was held by the United States to hold Japan accountable.
But strangely enough, several Class-A war criminals sentenced to death were never actually indicted.
Among them were names like Kishi Nobusuke, Kodama Yoshio, and even Abe Nobuyuki, the last Prime Minister of Korea under Japan.
Every unexecuted war criminal listed here had belonged to this organization.
Most of them are dead now—but even in death, their ghosts still rule Japan.
Through their descendants, bound together by pure malice.
After reviewing everything, I dropped the papers roughly onto the table.
“The United States funded the creation of Daedonghoe.”
“It was an unavoidable choice. The Korean War broke out, Japan became a military supply base, and the U.S. needed their cooperation.”
That’s America for you—
a nation willing to sell its soul to the devil for national interest.
“But after the Korean War, we cut ties with them.”
“Officially, sure. Once they consolidated power, they didn’t need U.S. help anymore. And here it says the second chairman, Kodama Yoshio, confessed to being a CIA informant?”
“······.”
I knew it. There’s no way the CIA didn’t know about Daedonghoe.
If Jessica couldn’t find any data in the CIA database, that meant the information was restricted to director-level clearance.
“So the CIA had nothing at all on Daedonghoe, huh······.”
“Not at any clearance level I could access.”
“Then it’s possible there’s still a link between the CIA and Daedonghoe, isn’t it? Otherwise, why keep it buried?”
“······.”
“Jessica, you think so too, don’t you? That’s why you can’t answer.”
At my words, Jessica lowered her eyes, lips twitching.
“Well, that’s not the point. I intend to destroy Daedonghoe.”
“······You’re serious?”
“Yes. I heard they plan to use the Self-Defense Forces to invade Dokdo.”
“What?”
Jessica’s eyes went wide in shock.
I began explaining everything I knew.
“That’s all the information I have.”
“······That’s insane. Washington won’t just stand by.”
“Will they? The U.S. is a country that’ll side with dictators as long as its own interests aren’t harmed. If they don’t want Japan and Korea at war, they’ll propose mediation. But that’s the problem—if Korea falls into a coup and the military takes power, reconciliation with Japan becomes even easier.”
Jessica already knew that. Seeing her bite her lip, I let out a cold laugh.
“So I’ll stop it. Whatever you do, don’t report this to America.”
“······I have to file a report.”
“Don’t. If anyone interferes with what I’m doing—”
I fixed her with a cold stare.
“I won’t forgive you, Jessica.”
“······.”
“The choice is yours.”
Jessica stayed silent, eyes closed tightly.
When she opened them again, her voice was firm.
“Fine. I won’t report it. But please—keep it moderate. If you cause too much chaos, they’ll find out I dealt with you.”
“Understood. I’ll just make sure they can’t look elsewhere.”
Of course, I had no intention of stopping there. But there was no reason to tell her that.
I softened my smile, # Nоvеlight # my tone gentle.
“This could’ve been complicated, but thanks to your documents, things will go smoother. Thank you, Jessica.”
Jessica returned a bright smile. Her lips trembled, but I ignored it.
“Thank me? It was a good deal.”
Indeed—it was mutually beneficial.
Just then, the phone in my pocket rang. The caller ID showed a Korean number.
“Hello.”
― Hey! Muhyuk!
It was Myungsoo.
“Yeah? What’s going on?”
― War! War broke out!
At his frantic tone, my heart dropped.
“What? War?”
― Yeah. Our navy clashed with the North Koreans in the West Sea!
The Second Battle of Yeonpyeong—
so it’s today.
I’d completely forgotten. Too many things on my mind lately.
I thought the altered timeline would prevent it, but apparently not.
Some things never change.
― Our navy won, but the Ministry of Defense thinks it’s retaliation for the previous Yeonpyeong battle. That curly bastard’s lost it! I don’t know why he’s acting up all of a sudden.
It seemed Kim Jongil’s anxiety over South Korea’s World Cup success had driven him.
Provoking the South on the very day of the semifinals, when the world’s eyes were on Korea, made perfect sense.
He wanted to show that Korea wasn’t safe—to rattle foreign investors, trigger economic instability, and remind everyone of his presence.
“How’s Korea right now?”
― Politicians are watching the situation closely because of the World Cup, but the public’s mostly unaware.
I gestured for Manager Ma to turn on the TV.
“So the fighting’s over?”
― Yeah. It won’t turn into full-scale war, right?
As the TV flickered on, a brief news ticker about the Second Battle of Yeonpyeong scrolled by.
“No. Probably just an act to prove his existence to the international community.”
― Got it. I’ll call again if something happens. I’m meeting with Chairman Yoon to discuss countermeasures.
“Okay. Talk later.”
I hung up.
Judging by Myungsoo’s urgent tone, Han Kyungyeong had also overheard.
“What was that? War?”
“There was a clash between North and South Korean forces in the West Sea.”
“What!”
Han shot to his feet in shock.
Jessica, puzzled by our Korean exchange, asked,
“Charlie, what happened?”
I remembered she’d once greeted me in Korean, but clearly, memorizing wasn’t the same as understanding.
“There was a naval skirmish between South and North Korea in the West Sea. It ended with a South Korean victory.”
“What?”
“I don’t know the details yet.”
Jessica stood too, visibly alarmed.
“I have to go to the embassy. I’ll contact you later, Charlie.”
She clutched the envelope of terrorist intel to her chest and hurried out.
After she left, Han Kyungyeong turned to me with a grim face.
“This’ll crash the Korean stock market.”
That was one way to see it. But not quite right. I shook my head.
“It was a localized clash. The impact won’t be huge. Let’s just watch for now. Give me a moment to think.”
I raised a hand in brief apology and leaned back into my chair.
Drawing on memories from my past life, I exhaled softly.
‘There were no further provocations.’
Then it hit me—President Kim Hakgwon was scheduled to visit Japan for the closing ceremony, along with an informal summit that never happened at the opening.
He couldn’t leave Korea now.
With the military on edge, the President’s absence would be disastrous.
If I hadn’t known Choi Sun-man’s plan, it’d be different—but now, I had to stop him.
I grabbed my phone and called the Chief Secretary.
No answer—twice. I put the phone down and gave orders to Manager Ma.
“We have someone inside the Blue House, right?”
“Yes.”
“They’re probably in an emergency meeting right now. Can that person attend?”
“Yes, the Senior Secretary for Economic Affairs is ours.”
“Good. Contact them immediately and tell them to arrange a direct call with President Kim Hakgwon.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I had to cancel Kim Hakgwon’s trip—
no matter what.