God of Blackfield

As the anchor spoke, aerial footage of aircraft carriers filled the TV screen.

[Moreover, Russia took it one step further. While the world was focused on how the United States would react, Russian fighter jets bombed Iranian facilities.]

A long plume of smoke rose from the screen, shaky as if captured from afar.

[Tensions are extremely high, yet the United States and the entire Arab world continue to watch in silence.]

The screen showed the anchor again.

[Russia’s military actions are raising concerns about a world war, but the Korean stock market is having a different response. Over to you, Min Ki-Joon.]

The screen cut to an economics reporter standing in front of an electronic board that was splattered in red.

After a brief silence, the reporter responded, [Currently, the stock exchange has triggered the circuit brake to halt spot trading. This is the first circuit brake to be triggered due to rising stock prices since the opening of the Korean stock market.]

[The current situation is putting the world on the brink of war, so how come our stock market is jumping inexplicably? Could you give us an analysis?]

After listening to the words his earset fed him, the reporter nodded.

[It’s due to an endless influx of orders from foreigners, which has resulted in an unprecedented amount of buying that even experts are currently unable to explain.]

[Could it be that foreigners have chosen our country as a safe place from a world war?]

[We are in Watchcon 1 and Defcon 2 right now, so it’s hard to say. However, considering foreigners are placing relentless purchase orders in our stock market, I can cautiously say that we can expect a breakthrough announcement with North Korea soon.[

Moon Jae-Hyun turned off the TV and looked away with a sigh.

The stock market was the first to reflect the twelve South Korean soldiers killed in Cuba and the seven seriously wounded.

“Wealthy people are terrifying.”

“Ever since Sherman was shot down, the dollar has been running out of control. The currency market is also a problem. At this rate, the dollar will drop to below nine hundred won sooner or later,” Go Gun-Woo reported.

Moon Jae-Hyun laughed in disbelief. “The export market will become an issue as well, too.”

“It’s a one-sided reaction, so we can hedge to some extent, but if it gets worse than that, we’ll have no choice but to take special measures.”

As expected from a former prime minister, Go Gun-Woo was quick to provide solutions.

“What’s the status of our assistant director?”

“He’ll be staying in Cuba for the rest of the day to meet with Israel’s Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Affairs Minister. He’ll get back to me afterward.”

Moon Jae-Hyun looked like an uncle who had just learned of his nephew’s college acceptance. However, he quickly hid his expression.

“Please make sure our fallen and injured men get the right treatment,” he ordered. “Their sacrifice must never be forgotten or neglected.”

“I heard that our fallen will be transported over soon. On another note, sir, Assistant Director Kang Chan has made an unexpected request. ”

“An unexpected request?”

“Even though our laws limit the amount of compensation we can give to our men’s families, the assistant director insisted on giving a hefty amount even if it means it’ll come out of his own pocket. We have been looking into making this possible.”

“I must have been burdening him with that as well,” Moon Jae-Hyun regretfully commented.

“Anyway, sir, we have received urgent requests to meet with you from the president of Peru and the prime ministers of Japan and Israel. Perhaps you should instruct them to file an official request,” Go Gun-Woo suggested.

“I will decide after the assistant director contacts us again,” Moon Jae-Hyun replied firmly.

***

Cup noodles, instant rice, and kimchi were served with prime steaks that the American Green Berets had grilled.

The French special forces team stood guard at the entrance of the building, while the two Foreign Legion regiments guarded the perimeter. The Green Berets were in charge of information and supplies. Although the supplies were just instant coffee, packaged kimchi, cup noodles, and cigarettes, Robert’s eyes still blazed with the eagerness to accomplish his tasks.

Kang Chan would have found this scenario better if it weren’t for the phone calls that he kept getting. Still, without those supplies, he wouldn’t have stayed in this desolate Cuban land any longer.

“Where do you want to drink coffee?” Seok Kang-Ho asked.

“Let’s go to the roof,” Kang Chan replied.

After the meal, Kang Chan went up to the rooftop with some of his men. Seok Kang-Ho, Gérard, Kwak Cheol-Ho, and Yoon Sang-Ki had bandages all over their bodies. Even Kang Chan had gauze taped to his neck.

While the others leaned against the wall, Yoon Sang-Ki made some instant coffee and brought it over with two other soldiers. Of course, they paired their coffee with cigarettes.

“Haaa!”

Does that punk have to make that noise every time he drinks?

Seok Kang-Ho remained expressionless, seemingly unaffected by Kang Chan’s gaze.

After watching Kwak Cheol-Ho and Yoon Sang-Ki go downstairs to transfer the dead soldiers, Kang Chan slowly looked around.

They were alive—at the cost of twelve men.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz.

The phone rang, seemingly telling him that he should answer his calls now that he had survived.

After checking the number, Kang Chan picked up the call.

“Allo?”

- Monsieur Kang. We have taken care of Iran. Let’s hope for a good outcome with Chapi Presley this afternoon, shall we?

Uzman sounded as soothing as always.

“I won’t go to war for as long as the issue with Ziegfeld is solved.”

- I thought as much. I have a favor to ask, though, if I may.

There was nothing free in this world.

“Go for it. If it’s within my capabilities, I’ll consider it,” Kang Chan replied gently.

- Thank you, Monsieur Kang. I simply hope that when you meet Chapi, you ask him for a peace agreement in Gaza.”

That wasn’t too bad.

“I’ll do my best.”

- Thank you. Acquiring that agreement will save many lives and make me even more influential in the Arab world.”

“You sowed the seeds. They are bound to bear fruit.”

- Hahaha!

Even Uzman’s satisfied chuckle sounded pleasing to the ears.

- I look forward to good news.

After hanging up, Kang Chan told Gérard and the others about the phone conversation.

“Do you really think Israel will give us that fucking bastard Ziegfeld?” Seok Kang-Ho asked.

“If they don’t, we’ll be left with only one choice.”

Seok Kang-Ho nodded.

They couldn’t back down now that they had come all the way here. Hence, Kang Chan decided to stop at nothing to break Ziegfeld’s neck—even if it meant crushing Israel. This was the surest and clearest way to end this fight.

If he didn’t eliminate the very person that led him to Afghanistan, Africa, Libya, and Cuba, the cycle would never end.

“That bastard is the only one left now,” Seok Kang-Ho remarked as Kang Chan leaned back against the wall.

Everyone couldn’t help but agree with him. They all felt as though they had done everything except for one last task.

There was no knowing what would be waiting for them at the end of this road. Nevertheless, Kang Chan wanted to at least ensure that he’d no longer lose people he cared about in this life.

He looked up at the Cuban sky, finding it blue with clouds that looked like strands of torn cotton candy. Basking in the warm sun and the cool breeze, he thought of Kim Mi-Young. He felt so guilty for what he did to her that he couldn’t even imagine standing in front of her now.

It was too late to tell her that he was alive. He shouldn’t have treated her like this, especially since they had promised a future together.

Tat, tat. Tat, tat.

Just then, Kwak Cheol-Ho and Yoon Sang-Ki came up to the rooftop.

“We’re going to transfer the dead, sir.”

It took South Korea some time to prepare the flight that would fly their fallen back home. Unfortunately, they couldn’t send the one that Kang Chan had taken on the way here in case he had to use it to leave tonight.

Kang Chan got up and went downstairs with the others.

Walking out the front entrance, they saw twelve iron coffins lined up before them. Inside lay Yang Dong-Sik and eleven of their comrades, now wrapped in body bags.

One of these men manned the machine gun on the second floor, while some guarded the first floor and stairs or held out on the roof.

With a nod from Kang Chan, the soldiers approached and stood around the coffins.

“Attention.”

Thud!

“Salute.”

Thud!

Everyone, even the Foreign Legion soldiers and the Green Berets, slowly raised their hands to salute their dead. They then lowered their hands just as slowly.

“At ease!”

Thud!

Right after, eight men stepped forward and began loading the coffins of the fallen soldiers into the helicopter, starting with Yang Dong-Sik’s.

“Leave them to us,” Robert said before turning around.

Swiiish!

With a wave of his hand, the helicopter roared to life. Its propellers spun and rose into the sky.

Du du du du du du du!

How many people would remember their sacrifice? What would the development of South Korea mean to their families?

Kang Chan remained motionless. Hence, no one else dared move either.

After a few moments of silence, Robert cautiously approached Kang Chan.

“Captain. We’ve gotten word that all of the wounded who arrived in the United States are no longer in critical condition. The NSA Director would also like to speak to you.”

His words were spoken in French, so Gérard, the Foreign Legion special forces team, and the other Foreign Legion soldiers looked at Kang Chan proudly.

“Will you be put in an awkward position if I refuse?” Kang Chan asked.

“Well, I won’t be getting a promotion anytime soon.”

Kang Chan liked his honest answer.

“Connect me to him.”

With a grateful expression, Robert pulled out a brick-sized phone.

“It’s wiretap-proof.”

If Vasili had seen it, he would have given a snide remark about Russian technology again. Robert pressed a button, spoke quickly in English, and handed the phone to Kang Chan.

“Allo?”

- Monsieur Kang. This is Peterson speaking, the director of the NSA.

“Kang Chan. Thank you for sending the Green Berets and appointing Robert as their commander for this operation.”

Robert glanced at Kang Chan. A short silence followed.

- The United States was unaware of Sherman’s plans, but to apologize for his actions, the US government has already issued a statement of support for South Korea’s policy. They also authorized Sherman’s elimination. We hope you will take this into consideration.

He sounded like he was reading out of a French textbook. Well, it wasn’t like Kang Chan had any trouble understanding it.

“Very well. I’ll take what you say at face value.”

- Your affirmative response is enough for us. We’ll take care of your wounded.

“Thank you,” Kang Chan replied in a textbook manner.

- No, Monsieur Kang. I should be the one thanking you for giving me a bit of your time.

The call ended afterward. It was such a simple conversation that Kang Chan thought it was absurd that the US had to pressure Robert into taking the call.

“If you’ve got nothing else to do, we should head in,” Seok Kang-Ho said, clearing the area with a single sentence.

***

Aside from a few phone calls from Kim Hyung-Jung, Lanok, Vasili, and Ludwig, the rest of Kang Chan’s evening was uneventful.

The artificial island of Bermuda had been destroyed, and the next-generation energy facility being built in Iran had reportedly been reduced to ruins.

Things certainly seemed to be going according to his plan.

***

The massive, round sun had set halfway into the horizon, casting a blood-red glow.

“The Israeli deputy prime minister is arriving, sir.”

Robert, who had been on the move all day, stepped onto the rooftop and gazed downward.

“Bring him here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert turned and headed back down. He seemed to be aiming to take Gérard’s position, which made Kang Chan chuckle.

“Shouldn’t you change out of your uniform?” Gérard suggested.

“It’s fine,” Kang Chan countered firmly. “He needs to see the kind of path we’ve been taking. If he’s going to insist on keeping Ziegfeld safe until the end, I want him to know that he’ll have to deal with us as we are now.”

Gérard grinned, causing the scar on his cheek to crinkle.

Soon, they heard a shuffle of footsteps, and a man in a suit and four other men in suits who looked like bodyguards entered the building.

“Monsieur Kang,” one of the bodyguards greeted.

“Good to see you, Grafelt.”

“Indeed, sir.”

After shaking hands, Grafelt stepped aside and pointed to the man who had entered first.

“Monsieur Kang, this is Israel’s deputy prime minister and Foreign Affairs Minister, Chapi Presley. Sir, this is Monsieur Kang.”

The man had white hair and piercing eyes.

Kang Chan held out his hand, and Chapi shook it. As they shook hands, the two locked gazes, causing the atmosphere to fill up with tension.

“Have a seat,” Kang Chan offered. The Foreign Legion soldiers had prepared a simple table and chairs.

Chapi followed Kang Chan and sat across from him.

Seok Kang-Ho, Gérard, Kwak Cheol-Ho, and Yoon Sang-Ki stood behind Kang Chan, fully armed, while four agents, including Grafelt, stood behind Chapi.

One of the agents moved over and placed a mug of coffee and a small bottle of water on the table. The sound of his rifle and weapons rattling in the background made the tension even stiffer.

Chapi peered into the mug and then returned his piercing gaze to Kang Chan.

“Israel has no intention of succumbing to force,” he said.

Kang Chan didn’t have too much experience in these situations. However, he knew what the glaring asshole before him was trying to do.

Chapi was trying to save as much as he could and refusing to bow down to the idea of war.

The bastard was no different than Sherman. He would stab Kang Chan in the back if given the opportunity.

If war was inevitable, what was the point of wasting time with words? The fucker had already explicitly said that he refused to surrender anyway.

Kang Chan smirked and nodded.

“Gérard.”

“Oui!”

“Give them a ten-second countdown. If they’re still here by the time you’re done, kill them all.”

Click!

As soon as the command dropped, Gérard pointed his gun forward.

Grafelt and the agents, who were reaching for their guns, froze and stared at the muzzle of Gérard’s rifle.

Click! Click! Click! Click!

The four probably didn’t know it, but Seok Kang-Ho, Kwak Cheol-Ho, and Yoon Sang-Ki were all seasoned veterans now. As soon as the situation escalated, the three simultaneously took aim.

What was faster? Drawing a pistol, or pulling the trigger of a rifle that was already pointed?

If they were going to insist on seeing the answer for themselves, they could be Kang Chan’s guest.

Kang Chan turned his gaze to Grafelt.

“We’ve trained together, so I’ll give you a chance. Get out of here before Gérard stops counting.”

Kang Chan pulled a cigarette from his pocket, popped it in his mouth, and lit it.

Click.

“Hoo.”

“Monsieur Kang—!” Grafelt urgently called, but Gérard interrupted him.

“Dix[1].”

The countdown had begun.

“This is not conducive to the development of either country!” Chapi protested.

“Unless we do as you say, all that’s left is war anyway. Now, fuck off before time’s up,” Kang Chan said nonchalantly.

“Neuf[2].”

Did no one tell you about who I am?

Grafelt looked at the back of Chapi’s head frustratedly.

“Huit[3]."

The Israeli agents’ eyes fell to the trigger of the rifles.

Seok Kang-Ho and Gérard went without saying, but now, even Kwak Cheol-Ho and Yoon Sang-Ki had their fingers on their triggers.

You think these four wouldn’t pull the trigger because they’re worried about international politics? Ha! Do you think men who worry about that would have come to Cuba? To Afghanistan? Africa? Libya?

These men had been shoving each other aside for fear of being left off the list.

You all still don’t get the resolve of the South Korean special forces team—no, the resolve of the people of South Korea.

“Sept[4].”

Kang Chan exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke and looked at Chapi with irritation. “Hoo.”

I thought so. You boldly let me start counting down, but you’re scared of what can happen at the end of all this, aren’t you?

Kang Chan could easily read the emotions in Chapi’s eyes.

“Six[5], cinq[6], quatre[7], trois[8], deux[9],” he swiftly counted down.

“Monsieur Kang!” Grafelt called out in surprise.

“We’ll give you Ziegfeld!” Chapi blurted out hastily.

“Don’t you think it’s too late? You should have headed back down in the time you took to talk,” Kang Chan replied, brushing off Chapi’s offer.

“Please, I’m begging you as someone you trained with, Monsieur Kang!” Grafelt pleaded.

Kang Chan’s gaze alternated between Grafelt and Chapi. These bastards would clearly come after him as soon as they got the opportunity. If so, then he would feel more at ease to kill them now.

There was no reason to repeat what happened with Sherman.

Just as Kang Chan made up his mind, Grafelt suddenly shouted, “Ziegfeld is currently in North Korea!”

Kang Chan glanced at him.

“The Mossad escorted him to North Korea. It’s true.”

These motherfuckers! It was already too much that they pitted people of the same kind against each other once, yet they’re still planning to do it again?!

Kang Chan slowly looked down at Chapi, who stared right back, refusing to yield.

“Grafelt,” Kang Chan called, his gaze still on Chapi.

“Oui, Monsieur Kang.”

“I’ll give you a chance. I will offer you a peace deal for Gaza, and if you go through with the agreement in four hours, I promise on my name that there will be no invasion of Israel.”

Grafelt swallowed dryly, and Chapi looked at Kang Chan victoriously.

“That doesn’t mean I forgive you all for using North Korea again. Don’t ever think of using North Korea again. I’ll use Chapi to set an example.”

What does that mean?

Chapi’s eyes widened.

“Gérard, get rid of that bastard.”

“Oui!”

“Monsieur Kang! He is the Mossad’s—!”

Bang! Thud!

Chapi dropped to the ground with a gaping hole in his forehead.

1. ten ☜

2. nine ☜

3. eight ☜

4. seven ☜

5. six ☜

6. five ☜

7. four ☜

8. three ☜

9. two ☜