Free Web NovelA wide, dark room.
Choi Sunman bit his lips hard and stared at the map of the Republic of Korea hanging on the wall.
His face was shrouded in shadow.
“Sir, may I come in?”
“Yes, come in.”
At his permission, Jang Minhyuk opened the door and stepped inside.
“Did you find out?”
“Yes. Daigo Tadashige’s death has been confirmed. He died along with several Yakuza bosses.”
“What? Is that true?”
“It hasn’t appeared in the news, but the information came from a very reliable source.”
“...What on earth is going on.”
Just as Kim Muhyuk had said. Choi Sunman muttered in disbelief.
“What in the world is this... Did that man, Kim Muhyuk, really do this?”
“That’s uncertain. Officially, they’re saying all parties died in a gang conflict over narcotics. But the operation was far too clean for that to be believable.”
After hearing everything, Choi Sunman groaned faintly.
Jang Minhyuk, still bowing his head, continued.
“They all died instantly, without even a chance to fight back. There were snipers, grenades—everything was over in minutes. They withdrew before the police or the Self-Defense Forces even arrived. The entire operation took less than ten minutes.”
“Minhyuk, don’t you find it strange? Tadashige-san had deep connections with both the political and business sectors, and with the media. Yet Japan is eerily silent about his death.”
At the weakened tone of Choi Sunman’s voice, Jang Minhyuk's face darkened.
Never before had Choi Sunman shown such a defeated look.
Even when he was sentenced to death, he had remained proud. Now, he looked shrunken—diminished.
Shaking off his thoughts, Jang Minhyuk spoke again.
“Sir, this is only my conjecture.”
“Conjecture? Go on.”
“If Kim Muhyuk was involved, it’s highly likely he had the support of Russian special forces.”
“...So it’s true he’s friends with Putin?”
While Choi still sounded doubtful, Jang Minhyuk nodded firmly.
“Their relationship seems to be even closer than is publicly known.”
“So Putin risked diplomatic fallout to help him?”
“Yes. The mission was executed swiftly and with precision. It couldn’t have been done without elite training. If not special forces, then he must have hired mercenaries.”
“Either Russian special forces or mercenaries... Hah.”
Choi clicked his tongue. What a secretive man.
The more he tried to uncover about Kim Muhyuk, the deeper into the labyrinth he sank.
“There are rumors that Kim Muhyuk is the true owner of Black Bear. Its Korean branch, Black Secret, is practically his private security company. They handle all security for people in his circle. The CEO there is none other than former NIS Director Lee Chanchong.”
“What? Lee Chanchong—that man—is their head?”
“Yes, sir. He’s recruiting former NIS agents and ex–special forces operatives with high salaries and privileges.”
Jang Minhyuk, too, felt the same eerie sense.
The deeper one dug into Kim Muhyuk, the more one felt a creeping fear.
“Sir, I believe it’s time for you to withdraw.”
“...Can’t we still move the military?”
Even now, Choi Sunman couldn’t let go.
He wanted to see the look of humiliation on Kim Muhyuk’s face.
“They’ve already prepared everything. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have told you so much. You must at least keep your allies in the military intact, if you wish to plan anything later.”
“...”
“Sir, think of your family.”
Choi couldn’t answer.
Then Jang Minhyuk's phone vibrated.
He checked the caller ID and reported,
“It’s Lieutenant Colonel Kim.”
“Really? Take it.”
“Yes, sir.”
He bowed his head and answered.
— Senior! Something’s happened!
A frantic voice came through the receiver.
“Calm down, Lieutenant Colonel. What happened?”
— Everyone’s been dismissed from their posts. All of them! The Minister of Defense personally issued the orders—outside the regular personnel season!
“What? Is that true?”
— Yes. The commander of military intelligence and all the generals have been relieved of duty.
“...Why all of a sudden? Are you safe?”
— I don’t know how long I will be. I called to warn you. I have to hang up now.
The line went dead.
Jang Minhyuk stood frozen, holding his phone in disbelief.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
Choi’s voice trembled.
Jang looked up, his face pale and hollow. Choi saw the fear in his aide’s expression.
“...Sir. It’s over. Everything is over.”
Choi Sunman’s face changed by the second as the words sank in.
* * *
At CIA Headquarters, the new director, Allen W. Vanzeberg, was reviewing a report that Deputy Director David had brought in.
The report was thick. The further Allen read, the deeper his frown grew.
After finishing, he threw the file on his desk.
“Is all of this true?” fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
“Yes, Director. Every word.”
Allen sighed heavily and rose from his chair.
“Then we’d better call a meeting. Summon all deputy directors. This looks serious—full conference.”
He started toward the adjoining meeting room, but David didn’t move.
Noticing, Allen stopped and asked irritably,
“Well? Why aren’t you responding?”
David stood frozen, then spoke slowly.
“Director, there are only a handful of people in the world who know everything about Kim Muhyuk. Besides me, perhaps only the East Asia Division Chief.”
Allen frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“...”
The position of CIA Director had long become a political appointment.
Allen himself wasn’t a career agent—he was a White House pick.
As such, he knew little of the Agency’s deeper inner workings.
Annoyed, he walked back toward the couch.
“All right, sit down and tell me everything.”
David sat, and once he did, Allen gestured at him.
“Now talk. What do you mean by that?”
“It began under President Clinton’s directive. All official records of Kim Muhyuk were to be destroyed. From that point, I was assigned to handle him personally.”
“What? Why?”
Allen couldn’t believe it.
If the report was true, Kim Muhyuk was a dangerous individual—someone the CIA should have been actively neutralizing, not monitoring quietly.
“Does President Bush know about this?”
“Yes, I briefed him right after his inauguration.”
“And he gave no new orders?”
“None. I submit monthly reports on Kim Muhyuk’s movements directly to him.”
“You report directly to the President, without going through the Director?”
Allen glared, offended.
“Why are you given that privilege?”
“I’ve worked here for over thirty years. I’ve been offered the Director position several times. But as you know, it’s a post where heads roll overnight.”
Allen grimaced—he couldn’t deny it.
He himself had only gotten the position after his predecessor was sacked for a failed Iraq operation.
“I want to serve this country until the day I die. I have no ambition for your chair, so you don’t need to feel threatened.”
Allen cleared his throat, embarrassed at being seen through.
David smiled faintly and bowed.
“That’s why I opposed calling a full meeting. My apologies.”
“It’s fine. Orders from the President must be followed. But still... this man is too dangerous. Don’t you think so?”
Allen pulled out the photo of Kim Muhyuk from the file and waved it.
“He’s more dangerous than anyone we’ve ever monitored.”
“Then why is he still alive? Shouldn’t we already be running an operation to eliminate him?”
“Because keeping him alive serves U.S. interests.”
Allen shook his head slowly. Even if he was useful, a man that dangerous was a liability.
“Useful or not, he’s a threat. After what happened in Japan, you can still say that?”
“The President’s orders are explicit. We only watch him. No operations are authorized.”
“...”
“And, sir, he’s never once acted against U.S. interests. In fact, he’s brought us benefits. There’s no reason to eliminate him just because he’s dangerous.”
Of course, David’s private thoughts were different. If Kim Muhyuk ever became a threat to America, he would kill him—orders or not.
That, to him, was loyalty to his country.
But from what he’d seen, Kim Muhyuk never attacked first unless provoked.
There was no need to complicate matters unnecessarily.
“Kim Muhyuk never strikes first,” David said calmly.
“But Daedonghoe—those were our assets! He killed them. If we do nothing, what do you think others will conclude?”
David’s lips curved into a cold smile.
“They did something worth dying for. They planned to move the Self-Defense Forces to occupy Dokdo.”
“What? That’s true?”
Allen’s eyes widened.
“Yes. Prime Minister Koizumi found out and went to see Kim Muhyuk. They made a deal. The result is what you see now. Our ties to Daedonghoe are severed. You won’t have to answer for any of it.”
“...”
“I’ll compile everything into a full report soon.”
“Fine. Go. I need to think.”
Allen dismissed him, and David left the office without a word.
As soon as the door closed, Allen picked up his phone and made a call.
At the far end of the corridor, David paused and turned back, eyes gleaming toward the sealed director’s office door.
* * *
A few days passed since the visit to the Blue House.
“They all got out safely.”
Igor’s Russian mercenaries had withdrawn from Japan along the designated route.
Fortunately, there had been no ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ casualties.
It would have been impossible without Russian support.
“They still haven’t found Araki?”
Daigo Tadashige was dead, but his heir, Araki, had vanished.
“No, Boss. No body, no sighting. Koizumi’s searching like mad.”
“If they can’t catch him, Koizumi’s going to have a headache.”
My goal was already achieved; there was no need to get further involved.
“Leave it be for now. If anything unusual happens, tell me then.”
I laced my fingers behind my head and stretched. My shoulders cracked loudly.
I hadn’t slept properly for days, finishing up loose ends. Fatigue weighed heavy.
“Oh, and Yamamoto called. He wants to speak with you.”
“Yamamoto? Why?”
“Likely because of the recent incident.”
I had indeed ordered him spared—intending to use him to stir chaos among the Yakuza.
But if he alone had survived that bloodbath, suspicion was inevitable.
I turned my teacup slowly in thought.
‘What should I do? Is he still useful—or should I cut him loose?’
No matter how I weighed it, the scale refused to tip decisively either way.
Sighing lightly, I waved a hand.
“I’m too tired today. Tell him I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Understood, Boss.” ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
When Ma Chief nodded, I rose from my seat.
“You should rest too. You’ve been overworking these past few days.”
I headed for the study door.
At that moment, both my phone and Ma Chief’s began ringing at the same time.
