Hwang Yang-jung deboned the sea bream with practiced ease. After slicing the final piece with precision, he handed the knife to his kitchen assistant.
"Finish the rest."
The assistant nodded and jumped into action. "Oh, yes, sir. On it."
Yang-jung stripped off his apron and set aside his chef's cap while the assistant started cleaning the fish. The assistant paused and looked up as Yang-jung headed for the door.
"Sir."
Yang-jung turned back. "Yeah?"
"I am coming with you."
Yang-jung shook his head and dismissed the idea. "You stay here."
"I want to help, sir. I cannot just let you go alone."
The assistant's voice was firm but Yang-jung did not change his mind.
"Min-dong. I take care of my own business. You just focus on living your life."
"But I owe you so much. I really want to be useful."
Yang-jung stepped closer and gave Min-dong a heavy pat on the shoulder.
"Look, if I come back and find this restaurant in shambles, that is a bigger problem. Keep the registers running. That is how you help me."
"But still, sir..."
Yang-jung took a sharp and final breath. "Stay."
He turned and walked out of the restaurant without looking back.
A short while later, Yang-jung arrived at a quiet street corner. A black sports bike glided to a stop nearby after a brief wait. The man removed his helmet. He was the same biker who helped at Gaehwa Station the night before.
The man broke into a broad grin when he spotted Yang-jung. He rushed over and pulled him into a loud hug.
"Hwang Yang-jung! God, how long has it been? You bastard, why haven't you stayed in touch?"
Yang-jung smiled and returned the embrace. "Life just got in the way."
The two men sat down on a nearby bench. The biker was Lee Du-yeong. He studied Yang-jung's face for a moment and clicked his tongue.
"Man, what happened to your handsome face? You have aged a lifetime."
"You think making an honest living is easy?"
Du-yeong let out a loud chuckle at the dry humor. "Fair point. Living honestly is the hardest job there is, isn't it?"
The laughter faded into silence until Du-yeong spoke again with a serious tone. "It is really good to see you, Yang-jung."
"You too."
"I had Su-cheol and Min-su do some digging. This situation is bigger than we thought. These guys are not just normal loan sharks."
Yang-jung nodded and exhaled a heavy cloud of breath. "Thank you."
"A contact in Yeouido heard that the Iil Group bought an unfinished hotel building in Gangnam. Word is they got the cash from Smile Capital."
"Kim Myeong-gil's outfit, right?"
"Exactly."
Yang-jung's eyes narrowed. "But why would a corporate titan borrow from a bottom-feeder like Kim Myeong-gil? It does not add up."
"Myeong-gil probably spun a web and lured them in."
Yang-jung stood up and his gaze hardened. "Let's go find out for ourselves."
Du-yeong rose with him and let out a long sigh. "Finally. A chance to avenge our boys."
"Let's end this. Mr. Choi gave us the green light."
Du-yeong pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. The wallpaper showed a woman with a baby bump. He looked at the image for a heartbeat before clicking the screen off and nodding.
"Yeah. Let's go."
---
The dawn air bit sharply into their skin. Three sets of footsteps shattered the morning silence near President Choi's safehouse.
"Hey, Kim Geon-woo. Aren't you seriously tired yet?"
Woo-jin wheezed out the question. His t-shirt was heavy and see-through with sweat.
"I am tired. But I feel like if I stop now, it will hurt even more."
Geon-woo did not look back. He kept his eyes on the road ahead with singular determination. Joe trailed behind them at a casual pace.
"If you have the breath to gossip, put that energy into your legs. We are only at the ten kilometer mark."
The training shifted directly to the heavy bags once the run ended. Joe set his cane aside and stood before Geon-woo.
"Geon-woo, you are honest. In the ring, that is a virtue. In a war, it is a death sentence. Relax your shoulders when you throw. Do not let the enemy read your rhythm."
Joe flicked a jab. It stopped an inch from Geon-woo's nose. It was so fluid that it did not even make a sound.
"I am looking right at it and I still cannot see it coming."
Woo-jin muttered and shook his head in disbelief. Joe turned to him next.
"Woo-jin, you need to kill those street habits. You hunt for one big swing and leave a door open for a counter. Keep your guard up if you plan on staying alive."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Coach."
Woo-jin grumbled but he snapped his guard up tight.
Then came the sparring. Joe stood with both hands at his sides. He neutralized every attack using only the subtle sway of his head and torso.
"Is that all? Keep your feet moving!"
Geon-woo's sharp right straight grazed Joe's cheek. Joe's eyes flickered with a predatory light.
Joe did not miss the tiny opening. He delivered a stinging jab right into Geon-woo's solar plexus.
THUD!
"H-hurrk...!"
Geon-woo dropped to one knee. Joe's voice remained cold.
"I told you never to lose focus. Get back up."
Woo-jin watched from the side and cried out in a panic. "Whoa, man! Don't you think that is a bit much? You are going to kill the kid!"
"If you have time to talk, you have time to fight. Two on one. Come at me."
Woo-jin tightened his gloves and abandoned the pipe for the fist.
"Fine! Let's beat up the coach!"
The training went on into the dead of night. They did shadowboxing, weighted push-ups, and core conditioning. The schedule was relentless. Woo-jin eventually collapsed on the floor.
"That is it. I am done. Any more and I am a corpse."
Geon-woo was still moving. He gasped for air and dragged himself back to the mirror. He raised his guard with trembling hands and threw another punch into the air.
Joe stood in the corner and wiped sweat with a towel. The hand gripping his cane trembled slightly but he had a satisfied smile.
"Woo-jin, stop playing dead and get up. Don't you see him?"
Woo-jin cracked one eye open to look at Geon-woo.
"That guy is not human. He is a monster."
Woo-jin grumbled but he forced his body up anyway. The look in his eyes had changed.
"Fine. Let's go. Straight to the bottom of hell!"