Rafael exited the building with his bodyguards and Michael in tow. Three Cadillac Escalades, all modified to be bulletproof, chemical-warfare resistant, and explosive-proof—the best the Atlas branch could currently provide—awaited them.
"Let's visit the branch office first," Rafael said, and they boarded the vehicles, heading toward the Atlas skyscraper. The building served as a relay station for other branches. Factories in South Korea were out of the question due to the country's volatile nature.
"Let me run it down again, Rafe. Your fiancée here is Han Seo-yun, also known as—" Michael began, but Rafael cut him off.
"Queen of Motherfucking Tears. I get the nickname, but I don't know how my father managed to get an engagement out of it," Rafael said. He recalled attending her father's funeral and seeing her cry with such grace that the nickname stuck. Following the funeral, her grandfather appointed her heir to the family and one of the largest conglomerates, much to the displeasure of her aunts and uncles, sparking a cold war.
"That's the one. She's acting as the CEO of Queens Department Subsidiary under her grandfather's company, competing with her relatives' companies. The only way to secure the chairman position is to control the shares that govern those subsidiary companies," Michael explained.
"How did my father secure a deal?" Rafael asked.
"As usual, your father made contact with them, providing some intel. Their company is one of three that expands internationally. When he inquired about your whereabouts, they realized you were the same person the former heir hired to protect him during a humanitarian mission. So, in exchange for the family's smooth entry into the Philippine market and some 'dirty work,' they arranged a marriage to formalize it. However, her grandfather only announced it to his inner circle and important people, not to his children. The information about you saving her father was not revealed to her, so your identity is safe," Michael said, showing Rafael several photos of Han Seo-yun. Rafael noticed something was amiss.
"Is she sick? She looks thinner in the other photos," Rafael asked, noting a subtle difference a normal person wouldn't catch.
"Yes, and the information about it is extremely tight-lipped. The only people who know are her grandparents and herself. The doctors involved were either silenced or signed NDAs, and the records were burned or stored at the highest security level. The ASIB and a second party were able to uncover it," Michael said, not mentioning Ruby's involvement.
"Is it curable?" Rafael asked, remembering similar incurable diseases he had encountered in the past.
"In the past, it was impossible. But thanks to our new medical technology, we can inject a liquid form of the drug into her system. She'll need to be in bed for the medicine to work fully," Michael explained, a testament to their advances in medical technology.
"Sir, we're here," the driver announced, cutting their conversation short. The convoy arrived at the Atlas skyscraper, where the highest-ranking executives were waiting, lined up outside. The branch head, the regional administrator of the Korean peninsula, bowed slightly, while the others bowed deeply. A strict rule followed by Rafael and the overseer council was to never underestimate anyone, so the executives took their jobs seriously, balancing their duties with small pleasures.
After introductions, Rafael, Michael, the administrator, and several executives went to a private conference room to discuss an idea Rafael had, which he hadn't even mentioned to Michael.
Inside, a holographic projection of a massive city floated above the long table—a city Atlas had never considered building due to political implications and the volatile environment.
"This is a city I want to create on South Korea's eastern coast. Strategically, it would split North Korea's resources, forcing them to waste more. The city would have efficient transportation, sewage systems, and war shelters. An underground monorail system would provide transport. The city would be organized into districts, unlike the others, with an underground nuclear facility to power it. Defenses would include hidden anti-air sites, and in case of disaster, the shelters can be repurposed. This entire project will be in five stages, take five to eight years, and cost five trillion dollars," Rafael said. The city was massive, and even Michael was taken aback.
"Sir, this would be a monumental undertaking. I can't fully focus on this while also watching out for other elements," the regional administrator said.
"Rafael, I suggest finding a sub-administrator to be in charge of the city so our guy here isn't overwhelmed," Michael added, fully on board with the idea.
"Sir, how do we deal with the other conglomerates? They won't take this establishment lightly," one of the executives asked, pointing out a valid concern. Rafael wanted to build factories to produce Atlas products, and the other wealthy businessmen would do anything in their power to stop him.
"We have half the assembly under our control and the president as our asset. I've avoided doing business here before, but now we have the capabilities. We just have to wash the 'glory' of its ranks so we can have a true grip on the underworld," Rafael said, turning to the administrator. "For now, gather the essentials and negotiate with the government for that land deal. We don't have a clear date to start construction yet, so for now, just gather the necessary supplies and have a team of engineers survey the site for any small changes we might need to make to the plan."
Finalizing the details and having in-depth discussions took the rest of the day. Rafael decided to postpone the rest of his plans until the next day.
"Sir, I got a call from the security team here. Your house is ready," Graves said.
"Great, let's head there. I'm exhausted from that discussion, but let's make a food stop first," Rafael replied.
The convoy drove to a local burger shop. As Michael ordered, Rafael leaned against the car until he heard fighting in a nearby alleyway. He turned to a bodyguard and said, "Wait here." Putting on a balaclava mask and dark leather gloves, he grabbed his Spanish knife and headed toward the alley.
He saw a tall woman, her face covered with a mask and dark ballistic glasses, exchanging blows with three large men. She wore tight, stylish leather clothes and wielded a custom-made knife. Rafael lunged at one of the men, who had just been kicked in the chest. He slashed at multiple parts of the man's body before stabbing him in the chest and moving the blade up to his throat.
Thud.
Rafael tilted his head as the two remaining men were shocked. One of them was stabbed in the back and screamed in pain, while his companion was instantly killed when Rafael threw his knife, impaling it in the man's head. After finishing off the last man, Rafael and the woman stared at each other. She lunged at him, but Rafael landed an uppercut, sending her a few meters away. He landed another blow that nearly knocked her out before pulling out a flashbang. He threw it from a safe distance and left the alley, returning to the cars where Michael was holding two large paper bags of food. They then drove to the new house on the outskirts of Seoul.
The next morning, Rafael woke up in the new house. The three-story modern building was situated on three hectares of land, designed as a defensible position. A unit from the president's bodyguard detail guarded the perimeter, while armed police stood watch on the road.
Rafael, who had slept in his boxers, changed into grey shorts and a white T-shirt.
In the kitchen, Michael said, "Rafael, the second carrier strike group from the Pacific fleet is 'patrolling' the Sea of Japan, waiting for orders, while North Korea has deployed submarines to shadow us."
"Good. Give a little warning to those North boys," Rafael said as he ate his meal peacefully. After finishing, he headed to the Han estate, located on a hill overlooking Seoul.
An hour later, Rafael's convoy arrived at the entrance. The aesthetically pleasing gate was strong enough to withstand a high-explosive bomb and an earthquake. Guards in heavy military vehicles and police cars were vigilant. When the convoy stopped, Rafael rolled down the window.
"I'm Rafael Villanueva. I'm here to meet with the head of the family," he said, showing his national ID. The guards inspected the cars but didn't pry, seeing that the bodyguards were armed like the Secret Service. Their guns, made of carbon fiber, were undetectable by metal detectors.
The large gate swung open, revealing a paved road leading up the hill. Rafael noticed CCTV cameras hidden in the tall trees as they drove.
A few minutes later, Rafael got out of the car near a large house with a mix of traditional and modern architecture. His bodyguards, wearing bulletproof vests and with hidden guns, were ready. A few stayed with the vehicles.
As Rafael approached the entrance, the door opened, and an elderly woman wearing a hanbok appeared. Two family bodyguards stood behind her, their faces stern, but they felt a hint of fear from the aura radiating from the ten bodyguards behind Rafael.
"You're looking for my husband, right?" she asked. She recognized Rafael not from photos, but from his body stature, which was similar to the boy who had saved her son.
"Yes, I'm here to discuss on behalf of the Villanueva family," Rafael said respectfully.
"Of course, please follow me," she said, gesturing for him to follow. Only five of his bodyguards, including Graves, followed. As they walked, he saw numerous guards, many of whom he could tell were trained by former Atlas security instructors.
"Go inside, please. He's waiting for your arrival," she said as they neared the room's entrance. Rafael entered and saw an elderly man with a short beard and grey hair, wearing a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. Rafael noticed bulging muscles underneath the shirt.
'Okay, what the fuck?' Rafael thought, wondering if he would leave the room unharmed, but he quickly shook off the thought.
To be continued.