The greasy man squinted at Airen and asked, "We don't give loans here."
Airen's lips curled into the faintest smile. "Strange… Kang Dae-ho told me you guys do."
The man stiffened.
[ Wow. You can lie through your teeth without breaking character.]
Was that a compliment… or just you being sarcastic?
The man—Joon Woo-sik—clicked his tongue. "Kang Dae-ho, huh? That guy from the paint shop? Why would he send you here? We don't even have that good relations with him. Hell, he lends money himself…" His suspicion lingered, but he masked it. "Fine. Come inside. We'll… talk."
Inside the Room
Airen followed him through a door behind the car.
The man glanced back once, then subtly waved to the garage workers outside. Four of them began gathering near the entrance, their tools already in hand.
Airen sat on a worn sofa inside the room. The place reeked of oil and cigarette smoke. An old wooden desk stood in the corner, its surface scratched and stained. A buzzing ceiling fan turned lazily overhead, doing little to cut the stifling air.
Joon Woo-sik closed the door and sat opposite him.
"So tell me," Woo-sik said smoothly, "doesn't Kang Dae-ho give loans too? Why'd he send you to me?"
Airen leaned back casually. "I went to him first. But he said his funds were dry."
"I see…" Woo-sik rubbed his chin, pretending to think, though his eyes never left Airen's face.
"So how much are you asking for?"
Airen's voice was calm, but his words hit like a hammer.
"Every penny you have."
For a moment, Woo-sik just stared. Then he chuckled, though sweat glistened on his forehead.
"We have one billion won in circulation."
Airen's eyes widened slightly. One billion won…? His chest tightened for a moment. He hadn't expected that much from a rat's nest like this.
Woo-sik quickly added, "But don't get ahead of yourself. I can't give you everything. At most… one hundred million."
Airen's calm mask slipped into something sharper. "Looks like I'll have to take it myself."
Woo-sik smirked. "I knew you were suspicious."
He clapped his hands, and the door opened. Four men rushed in, weapons raised—
One with a screwdriver,
Another gripping a wrench,
A third swinging a metal pipe,
And the last with a heavy chain coiled in his fist.
Airen stood slowly, rolling his shoulders. His smile curved, dark and devilish.
"Four against one? …Cute."
The first thug lunged with a wrench. Airen sidestepped and drove his elbow into the man's ribs—crack! He collapsed gasping.
The one with the chain swung wildly. Airen caught it mid-air, yanked the man forward, and launched a brutal kick to his chest. The thug's body smashed against the wall, leaving a dent before crumpling unconscious.
The screwdriver attacker charged, stabbing toward Airen's neck. Airen seized his wrist, twisted until bones snapped, then slammed his knee into the man's face. Blood sprayed as he flew across the room, knocking over the desk.
The last one with the pipe roared and swung. Airen ducked under it, rose with an uppercut that sent the man sprawling backwards into the ceiling fan—metal bent and sparks flew before the thug dropped like a broken doll.
The room was chaos now—furniture splintered, blood staining the oil-streaked floor.
Airen stood in the center, barely a scratch on him. His lips curled into that devilish grin.
"Now… only you're left."
Woo-sik froze, trembling. How the hell can one man crush four like that… without even breaking a sweat?
Airen stepped closer. "What's wrong? Still thinking? Will you give me the money, or not?"
Woo-sik's knees shook. He tried to back away, but Airen's shadow loomed over him.
Airen cocked his fist and threw a punch. Woo-sik ducked in panic, collapsing onto the floor—
BOOM! Airen's fist tore through the wall behind him, leaving a gaping hole.
Airen yanked his arm free. Dust fell. His eyes flicked down—Woo-sik had pissed himself.
Airen wrinkled his nose. "Eww. You're not a kid anymore, old man."
Woo-sik stammered, voice trembling. "Y-you want money, right?! I'll give it! All of it!"
His shaking hand pointed upward. "It's… it's up there!"
Airen followed his gaze. A small handle jutted from the ceiling. He leapt, grabbed, and yanked—CRACK! The false ceiling broke apart.
A large red duffel bag tumbled down, bursting open with stacks of cash spilling across the floor.
Airen's eyes widened, his usual coldness breaking into a rare flash of excitement. Jackpot.
But that wasn't all. Several sealed plastic packets fell with it—transparent bags filled with white powder, tightly vacuum-packed in bricks, wrapped with brown tape. They scattered across the floor like fallen tiles.
Airen crouched, picking one up. "What's this?"
Woo-sik's face drained of all color. True fear flashed in his eyes. "D-damn it… I forgot… those were hidden there too…"