God of Blackfield

When Kang Dae-Kyung got home from work, the three had dinner together for the first time in a long while. It made them feel genuinely happy. After washing the dishes together, they sat down at the table and chatted about various topics over tea, not wanting to waste time watching TV.

“Honey, Mi-Young came over today. She joined us for lunch,” Yoo Hye-Sook said, bringing up what happened during the day.

“Really?”

“Yes. Channy seems worried that his job will make things difficult for her.”

Surprised, Kang Dae-Kyung turned to Kang Chan. His expression seemed to be saying, “You’re always thinking ahead for everyone’s sake.”

“You’re still young. Why don’t you just maintain a good relationship with her for now and then give it some serious thought after you graduate college?” Kang Dae-Kyung suggested.

It was a textbook answer, but he would have been right if Kang Chan hadn’t promised to go on a trip with Kim Mi-Young. Kang Chan supposed that for as long as they stayed within the boundaries of their friendship, there wouldn’t really be any issue with it.

A luminous dining table, a warm living room, laughter, and tea… It felt like a whole world away from Africa, which Kang Chan had been in just days ago.

After spending plenty of time with Kang Dae-Kyung and Yoo Hye-Sook, Kang Chan returned to his room.

He had to get some sleep whenever he could.

***

For the first time in a long while, Kang Chan slept deeply and soundly. It was so refreshing that when he opened his eyes in the morning, his mind and body felt light.

He took a short walk around the neighborhood and returned to eat breakfast with Kang Dae-Kyung and Yoo Hye-Sook.

“Have a good day at work.”

After seeing Kang Dae-Kyung and Yoo Hye-Sook off, he decided to have a cup of coffee—

It seemed he would have to postpone his coffee break. He went to his room to answer the phone. The caller ID read ‘Lanok.’

“Mr. Ambassador,” Kang Chan greeted.

- Mr. Kang Chan. Were you trying to surprise me?

Lanok’s voice had a hint of laughter in it.

“You said you would leave the security to me, so I requested help from the two most trustworthy people I know for the job.”

- I take it I have nothing to suspect about these people, then?

“To me, your safety is more important than the success of the Eurasian Rail and the development of the power plant.”

- Do you really think so?

It was a childish question, but it was also one that Kang Chan had to answer.

“Of course. I also care about Anne’s safety. I thought it would be safer for her to be here in South Korea.”

- You continue to give me wonderful gifts.

“I don’t think of it as a gift,” Kang Chan said, expressing his genuine feelings.

Lanok laughed in response, surprising Kang Chan.

- If so, I suppose the most important supporting character should put in some work.

“Mr. Ambassador, what do you mean by ‘supporting character’?”

- You’ll find out soon enough. That aside, thanks to you, I’ll be having dinner with Anne for the first time in quite a while. I will call you again soon.

***

Days had passed since Kang Chan’s conversation on the phone with Lanok. Aside from hearing that the wounded and the dead had been brought back to South Korea, nothing worthy of note happened.

During that time, he had met with Seok Kang-Ho, Jeon Dae-Geuk, and Kim Hyung-Jung once each and also called Oh Gwang-Taek and Kim Tae-Jin. Although it seemed like he had been busy the past few days, compared to what he had been doing in the past, his life lately had been carefree and peaceful. He even got to chat with Kim Mi-Young on the phone every day.

Since the power plants would take more than a day or two to build, he found no reason to feel rushed by it. Even so, time passing without any incident made Kang Chan wonder if it was too quiet.

While mulling over his thoughts, he removed the bandages on his shoulder. He then examined his hands, finding the scabs on them almost gone.

Kang Chan recognized who was calling just by looking at the number. Since his parents had already left for work, he picked up his phone and answered it.

“What is it?”

- What are you up to today? Are you going to the office?

“There’s nothing to do even if I go, is there?”

- You’re going to get fungus from staying inside all day. Let’s go to Misari or something.

“It’s hard on the agents if we move around.”

- No! No excuses. Let’s go get some fresh air. We can just take over the cafe and have coffee all together. What do you say?

“Fine,” Kang Chan hesitantly replied.

-Hurry and come on out. I’m on my way out too.

Kang Chan hung up the phone and looked at the sunlight that was coming in through the living room. Misari on a day like this? It wasn’t such a bad idea.

He wore comfortable pants, a thick shirt, and a jacket, then took his gun and radio from his desk drawer. Afterward, he walked out of the apartment, took the elevator down, and walked out of the building. The crisp winter air and the agents’ stares greeted him.

Glancing around him, he grinned at the people he saw. Choi Jong-Il was coming over to him from the benches. It was always nice to see someone they had fought alongside with in combat.

“When did you get here?” Kang Chan asked.

“I’m part of your security detail starting today. Hee-Seung and Doo-Bum are also on standby,” Choi Jong-Il answered.

“That works out well. I’m heading over to Misari. Join us for some coffee.”

“Understood.”

As Kang Chan walked ahead, Choi Jong-Il radioed instructions to the agents.

Seok Kang-Ho had parked to the right of the entrance.

The moment Kang Chan opened the doors, three sedans pulled up in line, one of which was driven by Lee Doo-Hee.

“Nice weather we’ve got today,” Seok Kang-Ho remarked. He started the car as soon as Kang chan hopped into the passenger seat. “How about we head to Gapyeong instead?”

“Gapyeong?” Kang Chan repeated.

“We’d be wasting this weather otherwise. Let’s go to Jeungpyeong or Gapyeong and have some chicken or some other meat with everybody else.”

They were smoothly cruising down a quiet highway. Long stretches of sunlight shone through the bare trees, making the car’s interior look like a preview of the spring to come.

“Are the men done with training?” Kang Chan asked.

“Doesn’t it seem like he’s becoming more and more like Gérard?”

Seok Kang-Ho draped his left arm over the steering wheel and let out another amazed exclamation about the fine weather.

“What do you want to do? Gapyeong or Jeungpyeong?”

Kang Chan glanced back. “Gapyeong, then.”

“All right! Good fucking choice,” Seok Kang-Ho eagerly replied. After radioing orders to the rest of the men, he asked, “Is it because of the new recruits?”

Kang Chan nodded. “If we disrupt them during times like this, the chicks are going to feel overwhelmed. We should contact them in advance first.”

“Good point. Oh, right! The soldiers’ funeral will be held next week. I heard they’re going to hold a proper one since they were killed in an official deployment, which means it’s going to be broadcast too. That could make it a bit difficult for us to attend.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t really do anything about that,” Kang Chan mused.

Upon entering the national highway toward Gapyeong, the roads grew even quieter. It took them only a little over an hour to reach the chicken soup place that Seok Kang-Ho recommended.

“Block the entrance with the car so we can see the people who are coming in. Everyone can go inside afterward,” Seok Kang-Ho instructed, loudly using his brain.

As ordered, the agents blocked the entrance of the restaurant to their left with their three cars.

It was winter and a weekday, so there were no customers. Because they were such a large group, the owner took the initiative to help stop any other cars from coming in.

Seok Kang-Ho ordered chicken soup, acorn jelly, and makgeolli.

The agents didn’t feel comfortable drinking since they were on duty. Nevertheless, Seok Kang-Ho still mixed three bottles of makgeolli with three bottles of soda and yogurt drinks in a large pitcher for them. They each had a cup of it.

“Cheers!” Seok Kang-Ho shouted all of a sudden. They all raised their glasses in response.

***

Hwang Ki-Hyun sat to Moon Jae-Hyun’s left, and Sherman to his right. When the White House requested an informal meeting through the US ambassador, this unusual meeting had been hastily organized.

They were sitting around a round table that had side tables between the chairs. The large round table had an ashtray and cigarettes on it, while the side table between Moon Jae-Hyun and Sherman had teacups on it. An interpreter with a small notebook and ballpoint pen was sitting politely between them, creating a triangle.

“Mr. President, I would like to begin by sincerely apologizing for any inconvenience that the Korean team might have experienced during the operation in Afghanistan.”

After glancing at Sherman, the interpreter quickly relayed his words.

Even though it was just an unofficial meeting, expressing one’s condolences in meetings like this was customary. Hence, Sherman delivered a heartfelt apology.

“I would also like to express my regret for the loss of your soldiers who were killed while serving as UN peacekeepers,” the interpreter said with a more comfortable expression than before. “To express our sincerity, we have replaced the director of the DIA and to prevent a repetition of this incident.”

Moon Jae-Hyun and Hwang Ki-Hyun just listened in silence.

Sherman might only be the director of the CIA, but if he was willing to put his life on the line, he had the power to threaten Hwang Ki-Hyung’s and Moon Jae-Hyun’s safety.

It would require a need and a purpose to make such a person fly in out of the blue to announce the replacement of the DIA director, who stood at the peak of the intelligence world, and make them apologize.

“Mr. President, my country hopes to have a closer relationship with South Korea, with which we have had a friendly and progressive alliance until now,” Sherman finished, then lifted his teacup to his mouth. His eyes looked quite large behind his thick glasses.

“Director Sherman, thank you for coming the long way and offering a frank apology,” Moon Jae-Hyun said.

Sherman set down his teacup as if to focus on Moon Jae-Hyun’s words.

Moon Jae-Hyun continued, “South Korea and I also hope to continue our friendly and progressive relationship with the United States.”

Sherman nodded.

“Mr. President, I’ve come to you today to offer you a very special request and suggestion. Allow me to be upfront. Why don’t you develop the next generation of energy with us?” Sherman asked. He quickly scanned Moon Jae-Hyun’s face, but he couldn’t see any difference in his expression.

“Saudi Arabia wants an energy and currency agreement linking the United States, South Korea, and Saudi Arabia. If you approve this proposal, South Korea will gain an unlimited supply of crude oil. You will also be able to issue bonds to Saudi Arabia, which would allow you to buy the product in unlimited quantities. This will have the same effect as entering a currency swap with the United States and stockpiling a trillion dollars.”

Sherman’s lips curved a little. Despite their nonchalance, he could see the corners of Moon Jae-Hyun’s and Hwang Ki-Hyun’s eyes twitching.

“The United States has also prepared its own proposal as well.”

Like a merchant in subway stations, Sherman pulled Moon Jae Hyun and Hwang Ki-Hyun’s attention with a buy-one-take-one promo.

“If South Korea accepts this offer, we will authorize its development of long-range missiles and the purchase of F22 Raptors.”

Sherman’s gaze filled with discomfort. He expected Moon Jae-Hyun and Hwang Ki-Hyun to be jumping for joy by now.

Moon Jae-Hyun leaned over and picked up a cigarette from the round table, causing Hwang Ki-Hyun to turn to him, giving him an excuse to hide his expression.

After picking up a cigarette and a lighter, Moon Jae-Hyun met Sherman’s gaze with a relaxed expression.

“Do you smoke, Director?” Moon Jae-Hyun offered.

“I’m fine,” Sherman replied.

The conversation ended on an odd topic. Sherman had been advised to heed caution when treading around South Korea’s president because his synergy with the God of Blackfield was one to be reckoned with. However, he still hadn’t expected Moon Jae-Hyun to be this bold.

“Director,” Moon Jae-Hyun began, shaking the ashes off his cigarette into the ashtray. “Russia has offered to provide us with nuclear missiles.”

“That’s unlikely to happen,” Sherman stated.

“I think so, too,” Moon Jae-Hyun readily replied, then put the cigarette back in his mouth.

The cigarette kept interrupting the conversation that Sherman wanted to snatch the damn cigarette from him and shove it in the ashtray.

“However, if South Korea starts developing long-range missiles and buying F22s, we’ll have to deal with a huge backlash from our neighbors,” Moon Jae-Hyun said.

“Well, the United States will—”

“In the worst-case scenario, a trilateral agreement between Russia, China, and Japan could be formed. Besides, we still lack the technology needed to develop the missiles. Do we really need to create tension in the Korean Peninsula in this state?”

“Mr. President, Japan has already applied for the purchase.”

“There are more important things than Japan buying F22s, Director.”

When Sherman didn’t say anything, Moon Jae-Hyun continued, “The US must first stop sympathizing with Japan. I believe that your government’s attitude toward them is largely responsible for their unilateral actions on all of the current issues, including Dokdo, the shrine visits, the defense forces, the territorial disputes in the Sea of Japan, and the apologies and reparations for past wrongs. Isn’t this F22 purchase related to those things as well?”

Sherman quickly raised his teacup. In discussions like this, swallowing dryly due to the opposing party’s rebuttal was tantamount to showing weakness.

“Is it really an effective offer to Japan and South Korea to sell the F22s that the United States has stopped producing?” Moon Jae-Hyun questioned. “In the end, stockpiling more weapons will only increase tensions between us. We’ll also have to deal with hostility from the Chinese and Russians.”

“As for the energy agreement issue…” Moon Jae-Hyun extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, then grabbed a wet wipe from the side table to wipe his hands. He then tossed it in the nearby trashcan. “I will give it a positive consideration, but since it’s something that will determine the future of our country, we need some time to build a national consensus first and foremost.”

Sherman ended up swallowing dryly.

“Mr. President, we also need to consider North Korea’s reaction,” Sherman said.

Moon Jae-Hyun agreed. “That’s true. I’m sure their pride is very bruised right now.”

Deciding to play the game as far as he could in this meeting, Sherman brought up the Korean peninsula’s greatest weakness—North Korea.

“You know full well, sir, that it is a terrible humiliation to them that Kaesong was provided to them as an industrial base,” Moon Jae-Hyun countered.

Sherman blinked, using it as an excuse to raise his gaze.Google seaʀᴄh N(o)vᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt

“North Korea’s greatest military base was given away because they were short on dollars. Their people will know all about our economic power, and worst of all, if it’s destroyed, it will cut off the most important route for their armored divisions to reach us for a while.”

Sherman sighed quietly. It was clear from what Moon Jae-Hyun said just now that he was talking out of his ass.

There was no way Moon Jae-Hyun was really worried about North Korea’s reaction for those reasons. However, in a spot like this, talking about North Korea’s military power and whether or not Kaesong’s industrial base was actually a military base was pointless. The conversation would just run off into the distance.

“Do you have any demands for the United States regarding the energy agreement?” Sherman asked directly, pulling out his last card.

“Mr. President, the presidential term in South Korea is five years. Even if you sign this agreement, you wouldn’t know what your successor would do. Isn’t it about time to start planning beyond your term?”Sherman added, poking one of Moon Jae-Hyun’s sore spots.

As if on cue, Moon Jae-Hyun let out his first open sigh.

In times like this, the brutality of twisting an already-jabbed knife could be necessary.

“Right now, South Korea has no more than forty-five days of oil reserves. It’s important to look at the distant future, but as they say, you can’t get a harvest in the fall by starving in the spring.”

“Considering South Korea’s current status, we will be forced to declare bankruptcy if the US central bank raises interest rates.”

The corners of Sherman’s eyes sharply curved upward.

He hid his satisfied smile, having held out out the stick after the carrot.

Moon Jae-Hyun turned toward him with an impassive expression. “Director, out of consideration for our closest ally, the United States, I decided to meet with you first.”

Sherman felt as if he had just been slapped defenselessly.