God of Blackfield

Kim Hyung-Jung was well aware of Kang Chan's animal-like sense of danger. It was risky, and he knew that wrong judgments could lead to confusion. However, on the flip side, it wouldn’t hurt to heed warnings and be cautious in advance.

The same principle applied now. Right after meeting Abibu, Kang Chan suggested looking for connections between the murders of Hwang Ki-Hyun and the agents sent to Libya, broadening Kim Hyung-Jung's perspective on the case anew. Kim Hyung-Jung naturally already had an inkling of these connections. He had even already thoroughly investigated Hwang Ki-Hyun’s surroundings, which naturally included examining the connections to the agents.

Moreover, the agents’ deaths and the sudden strike in Mongolia were carried out by Arab enemies, with unofficial information linking the Libyan militia and UIS to the incidents. Hwang Ki-Hyun’s death was also tied to their preferred method of suicide bombing, so efforts to find connections were already underway. Even today, their agents were carrying out over seven operations in Libya, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Sudan, and Chad.

Kim Hyung-Jung meticulously reviewed the data that appeared on the monitor. After a while, he frowned as he looked at the data on the screen. He couldn’t elucidate why the agents were killed in Libya or why Hwang Ki-Hyun and Song Chang-Wook were targeted.

What exactly do I know?

Kim Hyung-Jung, the branch manager of the National Intelligence Service’s Samseong-dong branch, felt drained of energy.

How many people in the world would be in a position to detain and order the execution of the director of the DGSE?

Yet, there Kang Chan was, running a lonely race ahead while the entire National Intelligence Service had yet to obtain any evidence. The bombings were certainly brutal. Hwang Ki-Hyun, Song Chang-Wook, and their security detail all perished in the massive explosion, leaving them no way to properly obtain information about the incidents.

“Phew.”

Kim Hyung-Jung picked up a cigarette from the table and flicked his lighter on.

Click.

Kang Chan was planning to fly to Russia to meet Vasili, then stop in China to meet Yang Bum before returning. He had to find evidence within that time.

The only clue was that the timing of the terrorist attacks involving Hwang Ki-Hyun and Song Chang-Wook overlapped, both occurring an hour past midnight.

Was it truly just a coincidence that both were leaving work at that hour on the same day?

Kim Hyung-Jung blew out a long puff of smoke and examined the call records of Hwang Ki-Hyun and Song Chang-Wook. Neither had called each other on the day of the incident nor had they ever communicated by phone before that day. There were no text messages between them either.

Click. Click.

While reviewing the call records on the computer, Kim Hyung-Jung suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

‘Why is this...?’

It was the day Song Chang-Wook had been asked to become the director of the Energy Resource Administration. That evening, Hwang Ki-Hyun, Song Chang-Wook, and Kim Hyung-Jung had dinner together.

Neither Hwang Ki-Hyun nor Song Chang-Wook had their mobile numbers on their business cards, so Song Chang-Wook entered Hwang Ki-Hyun’s number into his phone, which was actually done by Kim Hyung-Jung himself. He clearly remembered pressing the call button to enter both numbers, yet that record was missing too.

I knew it!

Kim Hyung-Jung felt as if he finally found a single piece of fluff at the scene of the terror.

***

Kang Chan and the others boarded the private plane, which, although smaller than the one Lanok had used, offered comfort of movement incomparable to using a commercial aircraft.

"Phew!" Seok Kang-Ho exclaimed as he recalled the trip back from the department store in front of the office. He had returned with a load of dates, which he, Gérard, and Choi Jong-Il had now devoured together.

"Isn't it too sweet? Jong-Il, want some instant noodles?"

Kang Chan shook his head. Using the excuse of security, Seok Kang-Ho insistently followed them, turning this urgent moment into a complete “gourmet trip.”

Kang Chan sat alone, meticulously examining what was displayed on the laptop provided by the National Intelligence Service. There had to be something—a reason for the calm expression and look in Abibu's eyes.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Just then, a call came in from Kim Hyung-Jung.

"Hello?"

- It's Kim Hyung-Jung. Are you on the laptop right now?

"Yes."

Kim Hyung-Jung sounded slightly excited.

- I once called the director and the chairman to save their phone numbers, but those records have disappeared.

What’s that supposed to mean?

- The call records of the director and the chairman have been intentionally deleted. Both were attacked an hour past midnight, and the deletion of the call records seems connected. Do you have any idea what this might imply?

Kang Chan neatly noted down on a memo pad next to the laptop what Kim Hyung-Jung had spilled.

- Hello? Mr. Kang Chan?

"I'm listening. So you're saying there's a possibility that they contacted each other using different numbers, unknown to anyone else?"

- Yes! It was confirmed that the chairman himself deleted the director’s record three days before the accident. As a precaution, only a special forces team was allowed to check his call records. The chairman had to know about that, yet he intentionally deleted them.

"Are there other deleted records?"

- Since he deleted them himself, unless I remember them, there's no way to confirm.

Would you look at that?

It felt as if a beam of light was flashing through a dark cave.

- I've dispatched agents to the homes of the chairman and the director. I'll report back if anything turns up.

"Yes. Thank you for your efforts."

Kang Chan hung up the phone and reviewed the records on the laptop. However, he could only confirm what Kim Hyung-Jung had said. He didn’t really discover anything else.

He picked up a cigarette.

Click.

"Hoo."

There had been as much progress as the size of a thumb. However, by approaching bit by bit, he would eventually be able to grab Abibu by the head. Kang Chan moved the mouse and brought up Abibu’s photo on the screen.

This bastard. Should I have gouged out his eyes back then?

Bitter thoughts kept creeping in.

***

Abibu focused his gaze on the VIP room's window on the ninth floor. The tall International Building across the diagonal intersection sparkled in the sunlight.

"Is everything ready?"

- Just give the order, sir. We will proceed immediately.

"What about Korea's response?"

- They haven't detected anything yet.

Abibu sneered as he stared down the International Building. Despite losing two men to the recent bomb attacks, South Korea remained vulnerable to other terrorist threats.

"Console the warriors and keep reporting on the youngster's movements. This holy war will teach that youngster and Korea a lesson about our greatness."

- Yes, sir.

Abibu hung up. With a satisfied expression, he looked at the International Building.

***

Agents dispatched by the National Intelligence Service to the Middle East put their lives on the line for their mission. What they needed now was information.

They had scoured every direction to uncover clues related to the terrorist attacks on Hwang Ki-Hyun and Song Chang-Wook, the sudden strike in Mongolia, and other war-related evidence. Unfortunately, although they had acknowledged the big picture and also received information about the UIS and the Libyan militia, neither solved anything.

The National Intelligence Service agents had done their best through local informants and contacts to identify the leaders and participants in the terrorist attacks. The more they did, the more death clung to them in a more definite form. However, no agent feared it.

Um Ji-Hwan was no different.

Chk.

“Um Ji-Hwan, can you hear me? Is the sound okay?”

Um Ji-Hwan checked the radio hidden in his ear and grabbed his weapons and bag of money. It was noon.

“Since your face isn’t known here and you’re a rookie, don’t be stubborn or get greedy.”

“Yes, sir,” Um Ji-Hwan firmly answered.

“Once we get the satellite coordinates, don't worry even if the contact is broken. Just memorize them as instructed, and if anything seems off, immediately run to the rendezvous point. Got it?”

"Yes, sir."

"It doesn't matter if you can't get the satellite coordinates since you haven't reported back to South Korea yet. You are an active intelligence officer. If anything even slightly suspicious happens, get out of there immediately."

As if feeling slightly pitiful toward Um Ji-Hwan, the senior agent reiterated the precautions two or three more times.

"I'll go now," said Um Ji-Hwan.

He emerged from the second floor, which offered a distant view of the target location, and walked to the agreed spot.

Chk.

“All clear for now. You may sit down.”

The radio could only be heard through the earset. Um Ji-Hwan sat at a café on the outskirts of Al Fayoum in Egypt. He then put a cigarette between his lips.

Click.

While he was lighting his cigarette, a large employee approached him.

"Turid 'an tamura?"[1]

"Alshaya albard." [2]

There weren't many things he could spout off in Arabic. After placing his order, Um Ji-Hwan flicked the ashes of his cigarette while still holding the lighter in his right hand. He glanced at his right hand. The direction of the lighter’s flame was clearly pointing downward. He wasn't particularly nervous, but his throat was strangely dry.

As Um Ji-Hwan quietly exhaled, the server brought him a large glass filled with dark, iced tea. Drinking a served beverage was foolish. To put it harshly, it was akin to committing suicide.

Intelligence agents never knew when, where, or by whom they could be killed. Hence, if one did not want to clutch their throat and shiver to death on the street, they should not carelessly drink any beverage. Um Ji-Hwan set the cup back down, seemingly remembering something. He then took out his phone but not because he had someone he had to call urgently. Rather, it was to inconspicuously avoid drinking the tea. He checked the phone number and smiled upon seeing Seok Kang-Ho's name.

"Four two point six two, One three six point nine three[3],” someone suddenly said in English.

He didn’t expect to hear those, but he couldn’t turn around either. Hence, he quickly stubbed out his cigarette with his foot and took out a new one instead.

Click.

It was a signal for the numbers to be repeated.

"Four two point six two, One three six point nine three,” the person repeated as requested.

Um Ji-Hwan repeatedly verified the numbers, confirming that each one was the same as before. He made an effort to remember the dispersing numbers desperately. Leaving his bag behind and getting up would close off their deal.

Thud! Thud! Thud-!

However, the moment Um Ji-Hwan stood up, sudden gunfire simultaneously erupted from all directions. he ducked and quickly ran forward.

Thud! Thud! Crack!

Um Ji-Hwan’s table exploded, and the cup on it shattered loudly. An Egyptian man in his middle years behind him fell.

Bang! Bang! Thud! Thud!

There was no radio contact.

Did a firefight break out with the sunbae-nims?

Thud! Ping! Thud! Ping!

The dirt around Um Ji-Hwan burst roughly.

Squeeze.

While running breathlessly, Um Ji-Hwan pressed the call button. It was Seok Kang-Ho’s number, which he had been looking at just before.

Thud! Thud! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The numbers kept getting jumbled in his head.

Chk.

“Run! Forget the rendezvous point and just run!” his senior shouted.

Please! The numbers are confusing!

Chk.

“Find a way to transmit those coordinates!” his senior agent ordered.

At the same time, Um Ji-Hwan heard Seok Kang-Ho’s gruff voice. “Hello?”

"Forty-two point six two, one thirty-six point nine three!"

“Hello? Hey? What are you saying?”

"Please memorize it! Forty-two point six two, one thirty-six point nine three!"

Thud! Thud! Crack! Crack! Ping!

“What?”

"They’re coordinates! Forty-two point six two, one thirty-six point nine three!"

Seok Kang-Ho didn't respond, clearly trying to memorize the numbers called out. Um Ji-Hwan turned into an alley.

"Huff! Huff!"

He had to escape this place as fast as possible. There was a hiding place up ahead, near a secluded building.

***

Seok Kang-Ho hastily scribbled down the numbers Um Ji-Hwan had relayed on a notepad in front of Kang Chan.

"What's this?" asked Kang Chan, looking at the numbers.

"Ji-Hwan called and blurted out these numbers, telling me to memorize them. There was gunfire in the background."

Kang Chan looked at the numbers.

Seok Kang-Ho added, "Coordinates! He said they’re coordinates!"

Having been in the Foreign Legion, he knew how to read latitude and longitude on a map.

"You know Ji-Hwan, right? Um Ji-Hwan."

"I know. Did you say there was gunfire?" asked Kang Chan.

"Yes. He seemed under fire when he asked me to memorize the numbers three times."

Seeing Seok Kang-Ho's expression, Gérard and Choi Jong-Il walked over to them.

"Let's ask Manager Kim about this for now."

Just as Kang Chan was about to pick up the phone, Gérard tilted his head. Looking at the numbers, he asked, "Aren't those satellite coordinates?"

The three looked at Gérard, but only Kang Chan understood what he meant.

"Satellite coordinates?"

"I've been looking at satellite images lately. There might be more numbers, but generally, this is how they are displayed."

"Where is this pointing to, then?"

"I'm not sure."

Of course. I shouldn't expect anything from this guy.

"Captain, what’s Gérard saying?" asked Seok Kang-Ho.

"He thinks they might be satellite coordinates."

"Satellite coordinates?" Seok Kang-Ho blinked. He then asked where the place was.

"I don’t know. Let's call Manager Kim."

Kang Chan picked up the phone and dialed a number.

- This is Kim Hyung-Jung.

"Manager Kim, I just received a call from Um Ji-Hwan."

- Um Ji-Hwan? Our agent?

"Yes. Um Ji-Hwan, the one who went to Libya with us. He called out some numbers as coordinates amid gunfire."

“Hold on a moment,” Kim Hyung-Jung said. They then heard him tapping away on his computer keyboard.

- He is currently in Egypt. The last report we received from him stated that he would gather information today, but it didn’t say anything more specific than that. Did you say he called out coordinates?

What the hell happened over in Egypt?

Kang Chan explained what had just happened and read the numbers from the notepad.

"It seems there was a gunfire exchange. Do you have any updates on the situation?"

Seok Kang-Ho, still holding the phone to his ear, shook his head. Hence, Kang Chan added, "We can't get in touch with Um Ji-Hwan anymore."

- The local manager isn’t answering either. Please hold on.

They heard him typing again.

- The satellite coordinates you sent are over international waters between Japan and Russia. It connects to the Sea of Japan.

"International waters? It’s in the middle of the sea?"

Seok Kang-Ho and Choi Jong-Il looked at each other. Meanwhile, Gérard stared at Kang Chan in frustration.

- Yes. The coordinates point to that area. I'll check for other possibilities.

"Thank you. Please let us know as soon as you get any information about Um Ji-Hwan or the situation in Egypt."

After hanging up, Kang Chan briefed the three on the conversation.

"Considering those coordinates were sent over in such an urgent situation, could there be a ship or submarine nearby?"

A ship or submarine?

Kang Chan looked blankly at Gérard.

"Coordinates at sea are usually checked for designated ships or submarines."

Kang Chan picked up the phone again and called Kim Hyung-Jung to check if there were any ships or submarines in the area.

- We already checked; no ships are passing through that area. We will request cooperation from the foreign agents in the office to check for submarines.

"What about the agents in Egypt?"

- We still can't contact them.

Damn it!

Kang Chan clenched his teeth.

"Gérard, if there's a submarine here, is there a way to verify it?"

"The guys at the office based their checks on information from our country. If the location is around there, it’s likely a Russian, Chinese, or Japanese submarine, right? Ah! Why don’t we ask the agents who came from Russia and China?"

"Would they know about it?" asked Kang Chan.

"Those people always keep track of their submarines," Gérard answered.

"Do we have agents stationed at the office?"

"Yes."

Kang Chan hurriedly picked up the phone.

In the corner, Seok Kang-Ho grumbled, “Hey! Call back as soon as you get this message.”

"Captain! They will give the location of their ships but will probably keep mum about the submarines," Gérard said.

While listening to them, Kang Chan searched for a certain number and pressed the call button.

Keep mum? We'll just have to tear it out of them, then.

The dial tone leisurely rang.

1. ”Do you want to order?” in Arabic. ???? ?? ????? ☜

2. “Cold tea” in Arabic. ????? ?????? ☜

3. (42.62, 136.93) ☜

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