“What are you talking about…”

　　“You’re flustered,” Guk Jiho observed simply. The way he smirked, twisting just one side of his mouth, was both insolent and aggressive.

　　“No, I mean, are you messing with me? Of course I am, when you suddenly bring up something I know nothing about.”

　　“You should be baffled. Not flustered.”

　　“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

　　Min Jaegyu clenched and unclenched his fists. The smile that had naturally bloomed while dealing with his junior, who was acting friendly for the first time in a while, hadn’t completely faded yet. His face, bearing a bizarre expression that was neither smiling nor angry, flushed bright red as if he were dead drunk.

　　“Setting aside whether you know or not, Sunbae, why… aren’t you surprised? I was really shocked when I got called into Headquarters. I even asked the Chief if the police really did things like that.”

　　“Hey, Guk Jiho.”

　　Min Jaegyu quietly steadied his breathing, completely unaware that the bulging veins in his neck were throbbing fiercely like a pumping water hose.

　　Guk Jiho didn’t bother pointing that out.

　　“Are you interrogating me right now? Coming here out of nowhere…”

　　“Our captain isn’t going to be thrilled if I leave SOU. Same goes for Team Leader Yu. They could just draft some kid whose absence wouldn’t affect our combat power; there’s no reason to hand their ace over to Headquarters. There’s a limit to what outsiders can find out about SWAT’s internal affairs, so they definitely must have asked someone. So who could have recommended me…?”

　　It was you.

　　Pierced by that chilling gaze, Min Jaegyu was startled into blurting out nonsense.

　　“Hey, Jiho, calm down for a second.”

　　But the one who couldn’t calm down right now wasn’t Guk Jiho, who had emptied a whole bottle of soju, but Min Jaegyu, who hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol.

　　“But not too long ago, there was someone who aggressively pried into my family situation.”

　　He didn’t answer.

　　“Asking where my sister lived. Whether it was nearby in Asia, or over in Europe. They even asked about that.”

　　Min Jaegyu squeezed his eyes shut, looking as if he just wanted to escape the situation. It would be a familiar expression to any South Korean citizen who regularly watched the news. It was the exact same face cabinet ministers made when faced with difficult questions during parliamentary audits.

　　“Say something.”

　　“Jiho… Honestly, ahem, yeah. I recommended you. You’re a good shot, you’re agile, you’ve got a temper, and you’re highly adaptable. You’ll survive no matter where they throw you.”

　　The preamble sounded like a compliment. Saying he was the right man for the job. It would have been better if he had just stopped there.

　　“More than anything… almost all the guys in SOU are married. Sergeant Kim just had a baby not too long ago, and Sergeant Han already booked a wedding venue. Even the unmarried guys all have their parents around…”

　　Rather than considering the position of SOU or Headquarters, he was basically saying that, on a human-to-human level, throwing him away was the right choice. It might be rational from a utilitarian standpoint, but it would have been better if he hadn’t said such a thing at all.

　　“I have a mom and dad too. Up in heaven.”

　　“…I’m sorry.”

　　“I have family in Korea, too.”

　　“Uh, yeah, your cat…”

　　Guk Jiho hung his head low.

　　“Fuck, seriously… You really can’t trust people.”

　　His voice sounded nasally, as if his nose were stuffed.

　　“I’m sorry, Jiho.”

　　“Before I came along, you were the sniper in charge, Sunbae.”

　　Min Jaegyu had no response.

　　Unable to say a word, Min Jaegyu just tightly gripped the edge of the blanket as if trying to tear it off.

　　“Hah… I had absolutely zero eye for people.”

　　Guk Jiho sighed and stood up. The rough movement sent the cheap bar snacks scattering messily across the floor.

　　“Hey, fuck, it’s really not like that. Is that how you treat people? Think about how much time you and I have spent together.”

　　When Guk Jiho pulled his cap down low and turned around, Min Jaegyu reached out to stop him.

　　Thwack—

　　In that brief opening, a fist slammed into his abdomen in a flash.

　　“Ah, agh… Ugh.”

　　“Tell me about it. Considering the time we spent together. If it were me, I would’ve gone myself; I wouldn’t have recommended you.”

　　Min Jaegyu curled his body up like a shrimp in agony.

　　“Ugh, argh…”

　　“That’ll add about another week to your recovery time. It’s annoying, so stop exaggerating. Get plenty of rest.”

　　My temper’s really died down, Guk Jiho.

　　Thinking that to himself, he stormed out of the hospital room.

　　For some reason, it reminded him of the past. Back when his judo career ended, he had grabbed an aluminum bat and gone to find Choi Gyeongsu to vent his anger a little, too. Did he just have bad luck with people? Or was life just meant to repeat itself?

* * *

　　“Ladies and gentlemen, did you have a comfortable flight? Our flight has arrived at Vladivostok International Airport. Please remain seated until the aircraft has come to a complete stop and the seatbelt sign has been turned off.”

　　After the roughly two-hour flight, the captain’s voice announcing the landing was bright and cheerful. He stepped off the plane, receiving a send-off that felt like a warm welcome.

　　September in Seoul was closer to late summer than early autumn, often leaving one struggling with the heat. In contrast, the autumn sky in Vladivostok, Russia, was clear, and the temperature sat at a crisp 54 degrees Fahrenheit—perfect weather for walking around.

　　Being near the port, a cool, salty breeze blew in. Anxious from sitting idly on the plane, he had skimmed a brochure that mentioned the seafood here was quite cheap.

　　It said king crab, which went for $36 to $41 per pound in Korea these days, could be eaten for around 1,000 rubles here. He fully intended to stuff himself with king crab during his stay.

　　Having diligently slipped on his sunglasses, Guk Jiho felt his mood lift at the thought of eating king crab and walked with an excited step, humming a tune.

* * *

　　6:00 PM.

　　The setting sun had vanished, and darkness covered the sky.

　　A pleasant yet solemn atmosphere hovered in the office, which was roughly 4,200 square feet in size. Though it was called an office, the interior was decorated entirely in warm colors, much like a wealthy home.

　　Beige patterned wallpaper lined the walls, and a red carpet lay on the floor. A gunnysack was casually placed on a large, dark walnut desk. Every now and then, the sack wriggled as if it were alive.

　　Amidst the heavy flow of jazz, a group on one side was completely engrossed in playing poker.

　　It was Baek Haegyeon and three Russians. Behind the four of them, their respective lackeys stood like totems, guarding their superiors.

　　“Rosewood?”

　　“Yeah, rosewood.”

　　“Are you talking about the wood?”

　　“I mean this desk. It’s made of rosewood.”

　　The Russian bastard tapped the poker table and spoke in English laced with a thick Russian accent.

　　“It’s bright red.”

　　“Bright red like blood. That’s why the Chinese bastards go crazy for it. Red means good fortune for wealth. It’s hard too, so it functions well as lumber.”

　　“Right.”

　　Baek Haegyeon sipped his vodka as if he had just listened to a rather useless story. The cards in his hand were four of a kind. A good hand.

　　“A solid log this size goes for about 100,000 dollars.”

　　“That’s an expensive tree.”

　　“It’s all because of government policy.”

　　“Logging ban?”

　　“They designated it under CITES and threw a fit. Even though the wood is heavy and hard to log, they chop it all down anyway.”

　　“Is it a new business item?”

　　“No. Bringing in drugs is easier; rosewood is heavy and large, so it’s a hassle. I just brought it up because our Chairman likes rosewood.”

　　“Is your Chairman Chinese?”

　　“Haha… No way.”

　　“Certainly, if it were on a table like this, even if you killed a person, it wouldn’t leave bloodstains. I see why he likes it.”

　　At Baek Haegyeon’s words, the Russian bastards chuckled. Some even bent over in roaring laughter.

　　As he always felt, their sense of humor was a bit different from Korea’s. Even when he told a story that wasn’t funny, their eyes would bury into smile lines as they burst into laughter.

　　“Fold.”

　　Baek Haegyeon put down his cards. Not only did he have no talent for gambling, but it didn’t make his heart race either. He’d been scolded for having a boring playstyle, but he wasn’t stupid enough to come as a guest and take the host’s money.

　　“Um, Director.”

　　A guy who had approached from behind whispered in his ear. Since he had been waiting for news, he turned around, only to be met with a troubled expression.

　　Glancing down at his wristwatch, the hands pointed to 7:20. He knew the guy was supposed to land here at 6:00 today; it was way too late even for a delay.

　　“Guk Jiho didn’t show up at the airport. Thinking it was strange, we searched the area, and someone apparently handed this over.”

　　He opened the card envelope his subordinate handed him. Inside was an unused flight ticket from Incheon to Khabarovsk, with a short memo written on the back.

　　I would like to meet in the lobby of Hotel XXX at your convenience between 10:00 and 22:00 tomorrow. Please contact me. My phone only works when there’s Wi-Fi. Messenger ID: k_jiho

　　“He wants to meet at a hotel?”

　　It was the moment the effort of lining up guys with welcome signs like a barricade went down the drain.

　　“Yes. Isn’t he way too arrogant? Even saying he can only be contacted when there’s Wi-Fi. Playing hard to get, I ought to just… Do you think he knows your sexual preferences, Director? Trying to pull something…”

　　Baek Haegyeon was the kind of hyungnim who would throw an absolute fit whenever things didn’t go according to plan. He knew the guy was making a joke to try and lighten the mood, but it wasn’t very funny.

　　When he put down his vodka and looked up at his subordinate, the guy immediately shrank in fear and clamped his mouth shut.

　　“Gyunseong.”

　　“Yes, Director.”

　　“Do you want to come to my room today? You haven’t taken it in the back yet, right?”

　　“A-Ah… I-If, if you want me to, hyungnim, then I…!”

　　Ha Gyunseong’s face turned bright red as he agonized over it, and just as he resolved himself to answer, Baek Haegyeon offered some merciful words.

　　“I’m joking.”

　　“A-Ah… Yes. I also figured there was no way I was your type, hyungnim.”

　　“You shouldn’t call someone arrogant or say they’re playing hard to get before you’ve even met them. You have to see a person for yourself to judge them. Isn’t that right?”

　　“Yes, that’s right, hyungnim.”

　　“Face the wall and reflect on your actions. 15 minutes.”

　　“Yes, sir.”

　　The subordinate made a sharp, disciplined sound with his dress shoes as he turned his back and faced the wall. That was a little funny. Baek Haegyeon hid his curving lips behind his vodka glass and smiled faintly.