God of Blackfield

Kang Chan got out of the car with Kang Chul-Gyu and Seok Kang-Ho. He then looked inside Sohee's Noodles, a Chinese restaurant, through the glass door.

Even though it should’ve smelled like food and they should’ve been busy fulfilling deliveries at this hour, only a small light—that was barely enough to light up the hallway—was turned on.

They didn’t know what Yang Dong-Sik did to his son-in-law. For all they knew, he could have already given his son-in-law “a tour around Seoul” and left his head hanging somewhere in the dark hallway. Taking that into consideration, they had to figure out what happened.

“Yoo Hee-Seung, have our men stand by. Keep a low profile,” Kang Chan ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Yoo Hee-Seung answered, then gestured at the SUV.

Kang Chan pushed the entrance door open.

Screech.

Fortunately, the door wasn’t locked. Upon entering, Kang Chan saw six neatly arranged tables. Each one had four chairs under it.

Nam Il-Gyu stood up from his seat at the table furthest away from the entrance. With a frustrated, sorry, and upset expression, he bowed to Kang Chan and Kang Chul-Gyu.

There was a kitchen in front of the entrance and a door that likely led to a room to the left.

Rattle.

Likely having heard Kang Chul-Gyu, Yang Dong-Sik quickly came outside. When he saw Nam Il-Gyu, Yang Dong-Sik’s expression darkened as quickly as an egg would fall to cover an omurice.

Nevertheless, he didn't forget to bow to Kang Chul-Gyu and Kang Chan.

Kang Chul-Gyu didn’t ask why they looked upset; his sharp stare at Yang Dong-Sik already made it clear enough that he wanted answers.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was already thinking of leaving in a little bit,” Yang Dong-Sik said.

Kang Chan, Kang Chul-Gyu, and even Seok Kang-Ho gave Yang Dong-Sik a puzzled look. He sounded completely different from usual.

“Dong-Sik,” Kang Chul-Gyu called in a much softer tone. At the very least, he clearly understood the emotions that Yang Dong-Sik’s voice carried.

“Sir.”

“Is something wrong?”

“That’s…” Yang Dong-Sik trailed off, still unable to bring himself to explain.

Kang Chul-Gyu waited for a moment. When Yang Dong-Sik remained silent, he turned to Nam Il-Gyu.

Nam Il-Gyu could never disobey Kang Chul-Gyu when he was looking at him like that.

“Dong-Sik’s daughter has end-stage stomach cancer. At most, she only has a month to live. Her husband ran off with everything, including her insurance money, leaving her to die here alone.”

Yang Dong-Sik hung his head as Nam Il-Gyu explained the situation with difficulty. As if time itself had stopped, everyone in the hallway froze—even Kang Chul-Gyu.

Not long after, Kang Chul-Gyu walked over to Yang Dong-Sik.

“Dong-Sik,” Kang Chul-Gyu called gently, his voice seemingly embracing his subordinate. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, sir…” Yang Dong-Sik barely managed to answer.

He tried his best to contain his emotions, but he still burst into tears. It was as if the sorrow that he had been suppressing exploded the moment he saw Kang Chul-Gyu.

Yang Dong-Sik was in his mid-forties. He was an outspoken fool who acted without hesitation—like an older Seok Kang-Ho. Still, all he could do in the face of his daughter’s impending death was cry his heart out.

Upon learning what had happened, Seok Kang-Ho looked outside the restaurant, sniffling.

In combat, these remarkable soldiers were second to none. However, outside the battlefield, they were completely different. Yang Dong-Sik, who had come out unscathed from even the most dangerous operations, was so powerless that all he could do now was cry, and Nam Il-Gyu, who could easily infiltrate enemy bases, could only stand beside him and watch. Even Kang Chul-Gyu, their commander, felt so helpless that he was looking at Kang Chan for help.

Why can’t they confidently ask for help? Considering they’ve put their lives on the line for the nation, Yang Dong-Sik should be yelling at the government, demanding they save his daughter! Instead, all Kang Chul-Gyu can do is look at me for help like a dispirited and powerless father. Was this how South Korea treated its soldiers in the past?

These soldiers were not only appointed members of the NIS’ counter-terrorism team. They had also fought desperate battles in Libya and Afghanistan.

Yet even Kang Chan couldn’t look after them properly.

“Let’s take her to the hospital,” Kang Chan said.

Yang Dong-Sik looked up in response, his eyes filled with desperate hope. He seemed to be pleading for Kang Chan to save his daughter.

Kang Chan immediately took out his phone and called Yoo Hun-Woo.

- Hello?

“It’s Kang Chan.”

- Ah! Mr. Kang Chan, we were able to set up an appointment with Dr. Kim Ji-Hoon. The surgery is going to take place tomorrow.

Once Yoo Hun-Woo was done speaking, Kang Chan said, “Director, I have a woman here with end-stage stomach cancer. She hasn’t been able to get proper treatment for it, so I want her to receive the best treatment.”

Although Yoo Hun-Woo could just recommend a different hospital, Kang Chan trusted that Yoo Hun-Woo would understand and accept his request.

- How old is the patient?

“She’s in her thirties.”

Kang Chan glanced at Yang Dong-Sik, who nodded in affirmation.

- Please send me her address. I’ll send an ambulance.

“I’ll text it to you right away.”

- Alright.

After hanging up, Kang Chan forwarded Kim Hyung-Jung’s message earlier to Yoo Hun-Woo.

“An ambulance is on its way. Let’s entrust her to the Director of the Bang Ji Hospital,” he then said.

“Thank you, Assistant Director,” Yang Dong-Sik answered, his eyes still teary.

Nam Il-Gyu pulled out a chair from the table at the front and offered it to Kang Chan.

“Please have a seat, sir.”

“Dong-Sik, get ready to take your daughter to the hospital,” Kang Chul-Gyu instructed. “You don’t have your phone with you, so we decided to come here to have dinner and let you know that we’ve decided to delay our departure by three days. Who knew it'd turn out like this.”

Yang Dong-Sik wiped his nose with his sleeve and looked at Kang Chul-Gyu.

“Go. Be quick,” Kang Chul-Gyu added with a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

Knowing he had to tend to pressing matters first, Yang Dong-Sik went inside the room.

***

Ziegfeld, who was wearing a luxurious blue shirt with a floral pattern and gray shorts, laughed out loud.

“I can’t believe we only managed to kill Vant even after all that planning. Even you aren't as good as you used to be, huh?” he asked.

“I apologize, sir,” Xairo replied.

Ziegfeld nodded, then drank his strong Indonesian coffee. The ground coffee had sunk to the bottom of the cup.

Click.

“Is that carpenter ant, that Kang Chan, actually competent? Or did you just not do your job properly?” he asked afterward.

“We made an unexpected mistake when we tried to kill Lanok and Vasili. Moreover, Kang Chan most likely interfered in our attempt to assassinate Moon Jae-Hyun.”

“Hmm.”

Ziegfeld looked at the blue sea in the distance, finding surfers riding the white crests of the waves. Further back, people on yachts were enjoying their free time.

“What about Mongolia?” Ziegfeld asked again.

“We have already finished all preparations.”

“What about the reinforcements that South Korea will send soon?”

“We’re planning to shoot down the helicopter they’ll be riding from the airport in Mongolia to their base.”

Ziegfeld tilted his head in contemplation as he examined Xairo’s strong chin, yellow sclerae, and thin lips.

“How will you get to their base and the factory they’re building?” Ziegfeld asked afterward.

“Through Russia.”

“We paid Ivan a lot of money for that missile. Make sure you don’t make mistakes this time.”

“We’ll take care of them all as soon as Yang Bum and Vasili arrive in Mongolia.”

“Alright. I’ll leave that to you,” Ziegfeld said, then looked at the sea again almost as if it was out of habit. “The problem is Moon Jae-Hyun. Now that we’ve missed our golden opportunity, how do we draw out an ant hiding deep in a hole?”

He looked like he was solving a difficult quiz.

“Since the United States and Japan are catering to South Korea to win their favor, we can’t use the forces trying to divide South Korea right now. The economy is also stable, which means the wrong people will suffer if the United States raises its interest rate…”

Ziegfeld smiled. After a moment of silence, he added, “Kang Chans cold-hearted enough to kill Abibu. Considering those keeping an eye on us are now suspicious, does this mean they’ve found dirt on us? That carpenter ant even sent us a warning.”

As Ziegfeld muttered to himself, Xairo stood firmly before him, enduring Indonesia’s intense heat.

“A Japanese prime minister once said that South Koreans scatter like grains of rice because their staple food is rice. He also said that South Koreans should never be allowed to unite and that they should be belittled and manipulated to be at each other's throats.”

Xairo remained still as he listened.

“Moreover, he mentioned that if a talented person ever appears in Korea, the others have to be manipulated into killing that individual with their own hands. It does seem like he’s right. Hmm. If so, then we should take care of that carpenter ant first, shouldn’t we?”

Ziegfeld took his time pondering the issue at hand. Neither he nor Xairo moved.

“Hm, I promised to capture that carpenter ant alive, though… What should I tell Parthal?”

Ziegfeld frowned as if coming up with an excuse to give Parthal was a bigger problem than finding a way to kill Kang Chan.

“Using Gabriel won’t give us problems, right?” he asked.

“That’s correct, sir.”

“I’ll have to give this issue with that carpenter ant a bit more thought. Anyway, be sure to reassure our allies and prevent Abibu’s death from shaking them. Don’t forget that we already used the old South Korean soldiers as an excuse for why our plan in Libya failed.”

“Copy, sir. I’ll bring back good results.”

When Ziegfeld nodded and looked away, Xairo turned around and left.

The scenery in the distance was still peaceful. The sky was clear, the sun was intense, and the sea was frighteningly blue. More waves rushed toward the shore, breaking into white foam.

“Moon Jae-Hyun and Kang Chan, huh?” Ziegfeld shook his head. “They work well together, but it’ll be more interesting to have them clawing each other’s throats out.”

As if coming to a realization, Ziegfield’s eyebrows rose. Mischief filled his expression.

***

Soon, an ambulance from the Bang Ji Hospital arrived at the restaurant. The medical team entered and transferred Yang So-Mi to the vehicle.

She used to be chubby, but now, she was nothing but skin and bones. The people who were holding her hand couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

The medics used a blanket to place her on the stretcher, which they then pushed into the ambulance.

“Dad,” Yang So-Mi weakly called.

Yang Dong-Sik pitifully walked over and stood next to her.

“I’ve already forgiven you. Please don’t waste your money on things like this.”

Yang Dong-Sik could only cry in response.

Don't be a fool, you should at least tell her not to worry about money? I get that you can't be as rowdy right now as you were in Afghanistan, where you were running like a wolf amid a flock of sheep. Still, you should be boasting even if they’re just empty words, shouldn’t you?

Kang Chan immediately walked over and stood across from Yang Dong-Sik. He then looked at Yang So-Mi.

“I’m Kang Chan, the Assistant Director of the National Intelligence Service. You don’t need to worry about hospital bills. We’ll pay all of the fees required for your treatment.”

What else would he use his savings on if not for occasions like this?

Yang So-Mi looked back at Kang Chan, the light fading from her eyes. She was forcibly suppressing her hope and wish to cling to her will to survive. For her and her father, it seemed like life meant that they shouldn’t give up.

“Don’t worry about anything and just focus on getting better,” Kang Chan said.

With parched, white lips that looked as if glue had been applied to them, Yang So-Mi called Kang Chan with difficulty.

“Assistant Director.”

“Yes?”

She smelled nauseating. However, to Kang Chan, her scent was a slap that made him realize how much he failed to look after his people.

“I’m going to die anyway, so please don’t let my dad drown in a mountain of debt because of me. I’m going to die anyway. I’ve really forgiven him for everything.”

“What are you saying? I-I’m fine! There'll be enough to cover your hospital bills when I die in the next operation,” Yang Dong-Sik said in between sobs.

Why do you have to keep acting like this?

Kang Chan sighed softly. He had seen many soldiers wounded in battle. Even if they were already as good as dead, their survival remained their biggest wish.

It was childish and very embarrassing, but Kang Chan decided to make sure that Yang Dong-Sik—who had spent the majority of his life in service—and his daughter wouldn’t have to worry about hospital bills.

He wanted to give them hope even if it meant behaving immaturely.

Kang Chan turned to the medical team. “I need about three minutes with the patient, alone.”

The medical team stepped back, overpowered by the atmosphere.

“Woo Hee-Seung!” Kang Chan yelled.

“Sir!”

“Have everyone stand in front of the ambulance, including the counter-terrorism agents.”

“Yes, sir.”

The look in Kang Chan’s eyes and the way he talked made Woo Hee-Seung hurriedly hold up his sleeve and radio in Kang Chan’s orders.

Whoosh. Clank. Clank. Clank.

Right after, agents in suits rushed toward the ambulance. Counter-terrorism agents armed with rifles, pistols, and bayonets quickly gathered as well. They were wearing black helmets, bandanas, black uniforms with taegukgi on the left sleeve, and bulletproof vests.

I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that I’m doing this when you all are already having a hard time guarding us. However, I hope you all know that I would do this and maybe even more for any of you if you were in Yang Dong-Sik’s position. So, just this once, let me put a bit more burden on your shoulders for the sake of our old hero, who’s been serving South Korea for so long that he hasn’t even had the chance to look after his daughter properly.

Kang Chan glanced at the medical team waiting inside the ambulance.

Screech.

They folded the upper part of the stretcher that Yang So-Mi was lying on, lifting her head upward. Not long after, she burst into tears.

Why is she reacting like that?

“These NIS counter-terrorism agents risk their lives to protect South Korea,” Kang Chan began.

Yang Dong-Sik and his daughter cried in each other’s arms.

“We respect your father. I know this is a long time coming, but from now on, we’ll keep you safe. In front of all these men, I promise that I won’t just take responsibility for your hospital bills but also every other expense until you’re all better, so please focus on your recovery and give our agents hope.”

“D-Dad!” Yang So-Mi cried out.

“Sniff… Sniff… Live. Please live,” Yang Dong-Sik muttered.

Nam Il-Gyu, who was watching from the front of the ambulance, wiped his tears away with the palms of his hands.

“I’m so sorry, Dad… I-I didn’t know you were doing that kind of work…”

She was crying so pitifully that Kang Chan had to turn his gaze to the medical team.

“Please go to the hospital with her,” Kang Chan told Yang Dong-Sik.

“Thank you, Assistant Director.”

As Yang Dong-Sik held back his tears and sniffled, Yang So-Mi reached out with her frail hand and held Kang Chan’s.

Only an idiot wouldn’t understand the meaning behind her gaze.

When Kang Chan looked up, Kang Chul-Gyu nodded.

“Your father won’t go on the next operation, so please don’t worry. He’ll stay with you at the hospital,” Kang Chan said.

Yang Dong-Sik quickly looked at him as if to ask, “What are you saying?”

If Seok Kang-Ho acted this way, Kang Chan would’ve smacked him in the head before sending him off.

“The situation at the base has changed, so our departure has been moved back by three days. For now, please just stay with your daughter,” Kang Chan explained.

Once Kang Chan got out of the ambulance, Yang Dong-Sik tried to get out of the ambulance with him.

“We’ll also be going to the hospital. We’ll see you there,” Kang Chul-Gyu said.

In response, Yang Dong-Sik sat back down inside the ambulance and bowed.

Click. Vroom.

When the ambulance left, Kang Chan turned around and faced the agents.

“I know I made it harder for you all to fulfill your duties, but we wouldn’t be here if these people didn’t serve our country.”

Woo Hee-Seung’s lips quivered.

“Return to your positions,” Kang Chan ordered.

As commanded, the agents quickly headed to their respective cars. Likely motivated by what had just transpired, they bowed to Kang Chul-Gyu and Nam Il-Gyu one by one despite not being told to.

“Please cheer up, sunbae-nim,” they said before walking past them.

As the agents got in their SUVs, the SUV assigned to Kang Chan drove toward him.

Since Nam Il-Gyu still had to lock up Sohee’s Noodles, they had a moment to spare.

Seok Kang-Ho walked over to Nam Il-Gyu. “Do you need help with anything?”

Meanwhile, left alone with Kang Chan, Kang Chul-Gyu said, “Assistant Director, can you tell my son that I’m very proud of him and that I’m thankful for what he’s done?”

Kang Chan stared at Kang Chul-Gyu.

Why does he sometimes act like an old man out of nowhere?

“I’m hungry,” Kang Chan grumbled.

“Let’s go get something to eat, then,” Kang Chul-Gyu answered.

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