The sun has set, and the night view of New Seoul begins to become even more splendid.
In particular, in places full of bars and clubs, the laughter and chatter of young men and women can always be heard here and there on the street, and the speakers at the entrances of the clubs were playing fast-paced dance music again today to capture the hearts of those young men and women who live for just that one night.
Among the numerous clubs, Seven Star, with its rather flashy decorations, spacious dance hall visible through transparent glass, and long lines of people waiting to get in, was one of the more famous clubs in this area.
“In reality, no one knows that it is one of the businesses run by organized crime groups.”
In the club's dedicated parking lot, located to the right of the club, No. 9 muttered while putting in his earphones in a sedan.
[Eunwolpa, while operating Seven Star, created a multi-purpose store in the store's warehouse. From there, they produced and distributed goods for other stores. That was until their boss, Kwak Chun-pal, was captured.]
Number 9 listened quietly to her story and opened the glove box in front of the passenger seat.
As he opened the glove box, a click revealed a chest of drawers lined with sunglasses of the same brand and shape. Nine picked up one of the familiar items and stuffed it into the front pocket of his suit.
“After the leader, Kwak Chun-pal, was caught, there was no special movement?”
[It's said that most of the key members were arrested on the spot during the mop-up operation by the heroes and police officers who were dispatched at the time. I imagine it must have been quite a difficult situation for them when they returned after being released.]
He listened to her words, got out of his car, and quietly looked behind the car. There was an iron fence a little over two meters high. Through the gap, he saw a small smoking area, an emergency exit with a sign saying 'No Entry for Employees', and an entrance to the loading dock located in the basement behind the Club Seven Star building.
[Not long after Kwak Chun-pal was released without charges, I observed a scene where a refrigerated truck with no logo or decorations came to Seven Star's workshop, which was now in front of No. 9, every Sunday, and entered the underground loading dock and came out.]
“Could that be related to the reason why Kwak Chun-pal turned his back on us?”
[Well, that's the only clue we have right now.]
After quietly taking a few steps back, with a light lunge, No. 9 cut through the wind and crossed the iron fence.
“Then I have no choice but to go and check for myself.]
[Once you enter the building, it will be difficult to maintain communication. Be careful.]
At the end of her radio call, No. 9, who had removed her earpiece, opened the door to the entrance on the side of the building, which had a small sign that said, "No Entry Except for Applicable Personnel."
*
After entering the building, No. 9's movements were relatively free.
Dressed in a suit, wearing sunglasses, and standing at about 190cm tall, he caught the attention of the bodyguards who were trying to sort out the commotion inside, as well as the waiters, thanks to his infinitely clean skinhead appearance, but no one spoke to him.
To those who had seen the grim-looking people known as the store manager's acquaintances wandering around the store, No. 9 gave off a menacing impression that was not much different from them.
Especially since he's a skinhead.
'You lack vigilance.'
Not really aware that his hair and sunglasses made him look bad, Number 9 quickly descended the stairs to the underground loading dock.
As soon as I descended the stairs to the basement, the first thing I saw was the entrance to a warehouse where various brands of alcohol were packed in boxes and stacked, and people in black suits walking inside caught my eye.
Two at the entrance, one on the way to the entrance.
9 shook his head as he stood there yawning, rubbing himself with both hands in the still chilly spring night air, and quietly tapped his sunglasses twice.
At the same time, the sunglasses melted and spread across No. 9's face, and No. 9 slowly walked towards them.
**
"huh?"
The first to notice the intruder was a new recruit quietly smoking a cigarette at the corner of the road behind a parked logistics truck.
At the sound of the emergency exit door opening on the stairs, I initially thought the bartender, whom I had recently beaten and trained, had come out with some snacks.
But, what actually appeared was a completely different person.
No, is it a person?
A tall man of about 190cm, well-dressed in a suit.
What stood out most was the white background where the face should have been, with black lenses that looked like sharp eyes, and the mask with the number 9 written on the right side of the forehead.
“What are you doing? What kind of person are you?”
The question was not answered.
No, I just took action.
Before he could notice the presence of the suspicious intruder and scream, the masked man grabbed something from his pocket and swung it at him.
Pak-
Aah-
A black rod suddenly extended outward, striking the member's right arm, and a scream of pain escaped his lips. His scream drew the gaze of the two senior members who had been quietly conversing at the entrance. They quickly glanced back and forth between the thug and themselves, then grimaced in rage and shouted.
“What, what is that kid!”
“What the hell is he doing!”
The eyes of the organization member who was sitting down, shedding tears in pain that felt like he was about to faint, caught sight of the object in the assailant's hand.
A black security baton.
A light yet sturdy metal weapon usually used by women for self-defense.
The assailant walked slowly past the person who was sitting on the floor and towards the two people at the entrance.
I dodged the fist of the first person who rushed at me with curiosity and struck his exposed waist.
As he bent forward, clutching his waist in pain, he was struck twice more, this time on his defenseless back. With a heavy thud, the opponent fell to the floor, unable to even scream.
“Hey you little shit!”
The other, who had seen the first one to attack him fall defenselessly, quickly picked up a nearby stick and charged. His friend had been defeated when he charged at a weaponless opponent with his bare hands, so he felt confident that if he charged with a weapon, he too could win.
However, the assailant simply faced him and walked straight towards him, swinging his baton from below to above.
Pak-
With a sound like something breaking, the screams of the members of the organization were emitted.
This time, it was not the opponent's torso, but his right hand holding the weapon.
The original purpose of the bodyguard was to neutralize the opponent. No, could this even be called neutralization?
A shadow fell over the head of the member of the organization who was in pain, clutching his shattered right hand, and the club, curved upwards, struck him again on the head.
“What the hell are you?”
He asked the stranger who suddenly appeared in front of him again, but the stranger just quietly walked towards him again.
And this time, the answer to that question was given by the quickly descending security guard, and his consciousness was cut off.
***
“Weren’t there two boxes of items that were supposed to be delivered today?”
A man with a short ponytail, wearing a red shirt and black suit pants, shook a silver aluminum case in his hand and spoke.
“With just this one thing, you can’t do business or anything.”
A separate room for VIPs located in the basement.
A large sofa that fills a small room, and numerous bottles and glasses of alcohol placed in front of the sofa.
The members of the organization who were standing quietly in front of the table lowered their heads at the words of Siwan, the leader of the Silver Moon faction.
"Starline Industries has noticed that their internal inventory is slowly dwindling, and they've requested their subcontractors to check their inventory management. Unless it's an emergency disposal like last time, there shouldn't be that much—"
“Fuck, does that make any sense? Is business a joke?”
Clang-
The beer bottle shattered, and sharp shards of glass gleamed brown in the room's light below the neck of the bottle Siwan was holding.
"If we can't even bring in kids who can't even pay their debts and immediately put them to work, and we're running out of identification chemicals, when will the organization ever be restored to its original state? Don't you know how much effort you're putting into this?"
“I’m sorry, brother.”
“What should I report to my brother?”
As I was scratching my head and grimacing, the VIP room door opened with a loud bang.
“Hey, Siwan hyung. This is serious-”
The waiter, who had kicked open the door, came in with a panicked voice, then closed his mouth at the sight of Siwan holding a beer bottle.
Siwan quietly put the beer bottle in his hand down on the floor, took a cigarette out of his suit's front pocket, and put it in his mouth.
"What? Who's looking for the owner? Or who's getting drunk and causing trouble? I've told you several times not to report such things to me and to sort things out on your own."
“No, that’s not it. The intruder came in through the loading dock-”
"what?"
Siwan, who had been gesturing with an annoyed expression, opened his eyes wide at the word 'loading area' and immediately walked up to the waiter's nose.
"Are you a salty person? Or a special ability unit? How many people are here?"
"I don't know. They don't look like a police task force. There's only one person."
“One person? Just one person?”
At the waiter's words, Siwan relaxed, turned his head, and sighed.
A few days ago, I heard a report that the police and the Superpower Squad raided another workshop and that 'Torch' had taken care of it.
It is said that he was able to repel the fifteen or so police officers and the task force that came rushing in and even managed to escape.
But only one person?
"Hey, you know this is our organization's most important workplace, right? There are over 20 people stationed here besides me. How can you report to me because of just one person? It's just one person, and you guys should be the ones to sort it out—"
"That, that kid, he's no ordinary guy! Our kids are getting pushed around!"
"... what?"
*
Silver Moon Sect thugs rolling around on the floor.
Some people were lying unconscious on the cold floor, while others were lying face down on the floor, clutching at one of their body parts, groaning in pain.
"It took longer than I thought. As expected from the main workshop, there were quite a few troops stationed there."
If he had used his fists, he might have been able to handle it a bit faster, but this time the order he received was to infiltrate and 'investigate'.
Looking at the twenty or so thugs lying on the ground, the word "infiltration" had lost its meaning, but the investigation was definitely being carried out, so Ariel must be satisfied.
"Where is the important item you mentioned?"
The member of the organization, who had fallen to the floor, groaning while holding his own hands, looked up at No. 9, then turned his gaze away and let out a small, woman-like scream.
“I, I don’t know.”
Kang-!
As the baton struck his eyes, it struck the steel plates on the floor, causing the sound to reverberate through the hallway.
"I'm going to ask you again from now on. If you don't answer, I'll break your bones in that order: shoulder, arm, knee, and foot. Where is the important item?"
"If I don't answer, you're going to strike me again?" The member of the organization looked at his red, swollen right hand. "You're going to experience that moment of agony again, like when you're about to faint at any moment?"
“No, don’t say anything. Kim Si-wan, the deputy chief, will be here in just a little while!”
Behind the group, a member who appeared to be a senior spoke to him in a weary voice.
'I think I overdid it a little.'
Number 9 slowly rose from his crouching position, looked down at the noisy interfering figure before him, and then at the person responsible for the interfering.
"You, you cowardly little brat. When the vice-chief comes, you—"
His provocation was quickly silenced by the blow of the guard baton from No. 9.
However, the informant who heard the useless talk may keep his mouth shut with hope.
'If you are a young lady.'
What would Ariel do?
Number 9, who had been thinking quietly, raised his baton again and struck it down.
Puck- puck-
He struck the unconscious opponent's arms and legs harder, crushing the hopes of the informant who was quietly listening. Then he threatened him: there was nowhere to run.
Number 9 turns around again and looks down at the member of the organization who is trying hard to look away.
His face was much paler than before. Even though he couldn't see it with his eyes, he could hear the sound of his unconscious opponent being beaten, and imagined the scene.
And imagination is a thing that makes it look even more cruel than we think.
"Ma, I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything. So please, spare my life."
Look at that cooperative attitude, even though I haven't asked anything yet.
“Where is the important product you are handling?”
"Uh, over there. The aluminum case on the shelf. It's inside there."
He pointed with difficulty with his unbroken hand to a small desk on one side of the loading dock.
On top of that, No. 9 quietly opened the silver aluminum case by pressing the button on the case with both hands.
“This is.”
No. 9 couldn't hide his surprise at the unexpected contents. However, he soon came to understand.
The reason why Kwak Chun-pal turned his back on Ariel. This is understandable.
All that's left is to take this and get out.
“Hey, you tight-fisted guy!”
Someone's angry voice.
Number 9 is feeling uneasy. Who's being tight? Who.
I quietly turned my head, and the door leading into the club was open, and a man slowly walked out.
“Are you the one who touched our children?”
A man in a red shirt and suit pants. Siwan stood there, his eyes filled with anger, but the corners of his mouth were turned up in a smirk.
'I guess it'll take a while.'
**
A few hours later
I got a call from Ariel.
“Sorry, I think number 9 is caught.”