On the rooftop of a building overlooking the city, the night air bit cold. A long scar, running from forehead to jaw, shimmered eerily in the moonlight. Myeong-gil stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at a half-finished construction site a few blocks away.
"That hotel's top floor will be our casino,"
Myeong-gil said, his voice low. "The goal is a hundred billion in annual revenue."
Beside him, Kim Jun-min nodded. A thin, predatory smile played on Myeong-gil's lips.
"Macau is blocked off, and there are plenty of junkies itching for a fix. We'll book them a suite every week, let them have their fun, and catch every second of it on hidden cameras. Once the cash is piled high, Jang-do will hand over the dirt on Director Hong to the police. The hotel's value will tank. That's when we swoop in and take the whole thing for pennies."
Myeong-gil turned his head, his gaze piercing Jun-min.
"We need a hundred billion ready by the time we finish off Hong Min-beom. We're short fifty billion, right?"
"Yes, sir. That is correct."
The smile vanished instantly. Myeong-gil's eyes turned ice-cold.
"Then start squeezing. Sell off anything with even a hint of value. Everything."
Jun-min hesitated, shifting his weight.
Myeong-gil's brow quirked upward.
"What is it? Something wrong?"
"Well... one of the teams assigned to the homeless ID scams has gone missing. And the crew working the faulty contracts? They got beaten down by a shop owner and handed over to the cops."
Myeong-gil's jaw tightened. "And why am I just hearing this now?"
"My apologies, Boss. You were occupied with the Lil Group matter, so I didn't want to interrupt."
"Fine. Find the missing team. I don't like loose ends. But our boys getting taken down by a common shopkeeper? Explain that."
Jun-min spoke cautiously. "The owner spotted the hidden clause. When the boys tried to 'handle' her, a customer intervened. Our investigation says he's an immigrant from Japan. A former boxer. We've tracked his whereabouts. Should we send a cleanup crew?"
Myeong-gil tilted his head rhythmically, weighing the option.
"Don't kill him. See if we can recruit him instead. These immigrants usually fold pretty quick once you dangle some cash in front of them."
"Understood, Boss."
---
Joe returned to his cramped one-bedroom apartment. The space was small—just a bed, a tiny kitchen, and a bathroom.
As soon as he hit the mattress, his hands instinctively reached for the stack of cash beside him. He fanned the bills, a faint smell of ink hitting his nose. His mind drifted back to the afternoon.
They had been climbing the stairs after leaving the restaurant. Hyeon-ju was looking over Geon-woo's face with a frown.
"When do those stitches come out?" she asked.
"Tomorrow morning," Geon-woo answered brightly.
"Does it hurt much?"
"Nah, it's manageable."
Hyeon-ju took a sip of her coffee and immediately grimaced. "Ugh, I asked for hot. Why is this ice cold?"
Woo-jin, walking beside her, chimed in. "Juju, coffee is meant to be drank cold. That's the trend."
"Whatever. You and your trends."
As Hyeon-ju sighed, Joe cleared his throat. "Um, Hyeon-ju?"
"Yeah? What's up?"
"I... well, is it possible to get an advance on my pay? I know I just started yesterday, but I'm a bit desperate. My landlord is ready to bite my head off if I don't settle the back rent soon."
Hyeon-ju stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at Joe, her expression unreadable. Joe looked down, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Actually, forget it. It was too much to ask. Sorry."
Suddenly, Hyeon-ju burst out laughing. The dimples on her cheeks appeared as she doubled over. Joe blinked, confused, looking from her to Woo-jin—who was also snickering as he patted Joe on the back.
"What? Why are you guys laughing?"
Geon-woo smiled. "It's just... you've been so stoic this whole time, Hyung. Seeing you look that vulnerable all of a sudden? It was just unexpected. It's good to see you're human."
Hyeon-ju wiped a tear from her eye. "Exactly. You were acting like a total robot. Fine, I'll give you this month's pay in advance. I can't have my staff sleeping on the streets."
Woo-jin struck a pose, making a heart with his fingers. "Juju... can you see me? Look how thin I've become. If only someone would pay me in advance too..."
Hyeon-ju whipped her empty paper cup at his head. "You? Learn to follow orders first!"
Woo-jin lightly dodged the cup and dramatically clutched his chest.
"Ah, the wound to my heart is too deep."
Recalling the scene, a genuine smile crept onto Joe's face. He organized the money neatly, tucked it into his desk drawer, and killed the lights. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could actually sleep.