God of Blackfield

Disclaimer: The plot, characters, and opinions presented in this novel are purely fictional and do not necessarily represent the views of Wuxiaworld, our translators or partners

"I’d prefer if you entered without the other soldiers noticing," Choi Jong-Il said as he lit Seok Kang-Ho’s cigarette.

If one couldn’t understand that much, they weren’t just stupid—they were an absolute fool. Seok Kang-Ho frowned and dropped the freshly lit cigarette, crushing it under his foot.

"Shall we go now?"

He followed Choi Jong-Il up the marble steps and through the glass doors. His heart pounded so hard he feared the soldiers around might hear it. Passing the director’s office, Choi Jong-Il led him down to the basement.

Seok Kang-Ho wondered why they didn’t just use the elevator but not because it inconvenienced him. Rather, it was because it was making him even more clueless about where they were going.

Soon, they reached the dimly lit hallway of the first basement floor and went through a room labeled with signs for syringes, plaster materials, crutches, and bandages. Eventually, they stopped before a set of doors marked “Staff Only,” with IV fluids and other medical supplies stored behind them.

Choi Jong-Il checked both sides, opened the doors, and gestured for Seok Kang-Ho to enter.

Aware that any delays could prove problematic, Seok Kang-Ho quickly stepped inside and gasped. Kang Chan was lying in the damp and cluttered makeshift storage room.

Wheeled machines were intricately connected to Kang Chan’s body, with IV lines and blood bags hanging from stands. Woo Hee-Seung and Lee Doo-Hee stepped aside, and Yoo Hun-Woo approached Seok Kang-Ho with a complex expression.

"Do you remember when I checked on him earlier? His heart started beating again," Yoo Hun-Woo said wearily.

Seok Kang-Ho moved closer to Kang Chan.

Meanwhile, Yoo Hun-Woo gestured to Woo Hee-Seung. "As Mr. Kang Chan requested, after you left and his death was announced, we moved him here as fast as we could with Hee-Seung’s help."

"So he’s okay?"

Unexpectedly, Yoo Hun-Woo shook his head.

"In his current state, if we remove the ventilator..." Yoo Hun-Woo trailed off.

What kind of ridiculous explanation is that?

Noticing the fierceness in Seok Kang-Ho’s eyes, Yoo Hun-Woo explained, "Medically, he’s alive. However, at this rate, we shouldn’t get our hopes up. He asked to be declared dead, but I never imagined he’d sustain gunshot wounds this severe..."

Trailing off, he looked at Seok Kang-Ho, confused about why he was smirking.

"Choi Jong-Il."

"Yes, sir."

"Proceed as planned."

"Yes, sir."

Yoo Hun-Woo couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Choi Jong-Il issued orders, and Woo Hee-Seung hurried out of the room.

"Doctor, we’ll bring a wax figure identical to the captain. Please process his death certificate accordingly."

"Mr. Seok…"

With gleaming eyes, Seok Kang-Ho gazed at Yoo Hun-Woo. "Don’t worry. That man will get up. Do you really think someone who returned from the dead will die so easily again? Anyway, are there any other medical staff aware of this?"

"Two others,” Yoo Hun-Woo replied in disbelief.

Isn’t that risky?

Seok Kang-Ho turned to Choi Jong-Il.

"Both are secured in the SUV."

He’s already taken care of all loose ends in such a short time!

Seok Kang-Ho felt like kissing Choi Jong-Il on the cheek.

***

Upon reaching the designated location, Gérard wore a black wig and shabby clothes. He then headed out to a one-room apartment in Bangbae-dong. The news of Kang Chan’s death had reached him through the TV.

When he arrived at the hideout, he recalled the conversation he had with Kang Chan while planning the operation.

“Captain!”

Despite Gérard’s defiant glare at the time, Kang Chan remained calm. “You are to aim for the heart. This is not up for debate.”

Why is he doing this? Could it be...?

Gérard felt as if he had been struck on the back of his head.

"Are you worried that the Star of David might suspect and eliminate me before you arrive?"

Kang Chan smirked as if telling Gérard not to be ridiculous.

“Why do you want me to aim for your heart, then? Aren’t you worried that I’ll take this opportunity to kill you? What if the hypnosis hasn’t completely worn off?”

“Lower your voice.”

“Captain!”

Kang Chan handed Gérard a cigarette and lighter.

Click.

Once Gérard had lit the cigarette, his emotions began to settle a bit.

“Remember the CCTV footage from when Oh Gwang-Taek suspected that you were a traitor and caused a ruckus?” Kang Chan said.

“Yes.”

How could I not?

“I suspected you back then, too.” Kang Chan smirked. “I’d rather be tricked into taking a bullet than do that again.”

“Haven’t you thought about the people and responsibilities you’ll be leaving behind if something happens to you, Captain?”

“If we want our enemies to believe that the hypnosis hasn’t worn off yet and that you truly plan to kill me, then you have to do it before we’ve accomplished all our missions. Doesn’t that mean this is the best time to deceive them, no?”

Gérard was so stunned that he forgot he was holding a cigarette.

“I’ll protect Daye and our team. If you’re going to kill me, do it now and go back to the Star of David.”

“Are you insane?”

Kang Chan gave Gérard his signature smirk. “I mean, if you do kill me, at least you’ll survive.”

“None of this makes sense. Are you sending me off alone again? I can’t do that anymore!”

“What if it looks like I’m trying to kill you?” Kang Chan asked with an amused expression. He then brought the cigarette he was smoking to his mouth.

“I’d just die…”

Before Gérard could finish his sentence, Kang Chan stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and said, “Gérard.”

“Sir.”

He took the cigarette, which had completely burned out, in between Gérard’s fingers. With an annoyed expression, he stubbed it out in the ashtray as well.

“We’re going to shatter the Star of David with this mission.”

Gérard watched as Kang Chan’s eyes sharpened. His captain had returned to his usual determined self.

“So aim for my heart and choose the path you want. Leave the rest to me.”

“Sometimes, you seem more stubborn than Daye.”

Kang Chan smirked. It looked somewhat different this time.

“Do your best to aim for my heart. If you don’t, we won’t fool the Star of David. If you’re still under any effect of the hypnosis, get rid of it now.”

Kang Chan had the same fierce expression he always had when preparing for battle.

“Whatever choice you make, only you and I will know about it. If you’re still hypnotized, we can also keep that between us. However, after this mission, I want to see the Gérard I know.”

Is that why he planned such a ridiculously dangerous mission?

“Do you think I’m still under hypnosis, Captain?”

Kang Chan’s intense gaze was all the answer Gérard needed.

“Since the motorcycle incident, you’ve had the same sad look in your eyes that you had in your childhood photos. It hasn’t all disappeared yet.”

Gérard felt something hot rising within him.

“If I die, Daye won’t leave you alone. No matter which one of you dies, revenge will follow.”

There was no arguing with that.

“I don’t want to see that, so I won’t die. Now, get rid of all the fucking hypnosis in you. I’m tired of seeing you bleed from your nose.”

Gérard didn’t know what to say. Hence, he instead sat at the table and took a drag on his cigarette.

Drip.

Blood started flowing out of Gérard’s nose again, snapping him back to reality.

“Damn it!” he cursed in Korean.

Gérard tore off a ply from a roll of toilet paper, wiped the blood, and plugged his nose. Smoking with a blocked nose made the cigarette taste bitter and disgusting.

It’s perfect for quitting smoking.

Click.

Nevertheless, Gérard lit another cigarette, realizing that Kang Chan was right. He had no idea what had happened, and he only snapped out of his trance after firing three shots.

‘Go!’

If it weren’t for Kang Chan’s eyes, twisted in pain yet still unwavering...

‘Go! You bastard!’

Gérard clenched the cigarette in his hand. After going through adoption, cold foster parents, and hellish Africa, he finally met Kang Chan, the only person he could rely on. Considering he had aimed right for his heart, however, Gérard might have just truly killed Kang Chan.

Captain! I’ll destroy the Star of David even if I have to do it alone! I’ll take down and drag as many of those bastards who hypnotized me to hell!

Smoke was still rising from the cigarette in Gérard’s hand.

***

"Korean news channels are reporting Kang Chan’s death."

"Is there a chance he faked it?"

"None,” Xairo firmly answered, making Ziegfeld raise his head to look at him. "We had him go through dual-layered conditioning. If Gabriel had disobeyed our last command, he would have died on the spot."

"Hmm. What’s Gabriel’s current condition, then?”

"He's likely recalling his past."

"I see."

Ziegfeld took a sip from the glass filled with iced tea. With a satisfied look, he said, "The iced tea is just perfect. Anyway, it’s best to be thorough. Dig up his grave if you have to, and confirm the DNA from his corpse, blood, or even his cremated bones."

"Understood. I’ll retrieve Gabriel as well."

Ziegfeld looked up, quite surprised. "Isn’t it better to leave him be?"

"If his memories have returned, there’s a high chance information could leak. Besides, we can still use him to manipulate the Foreign Legion and the DGSE."

A hot sea breeze tousled Ziegfeld's hair.

"Damn it!" Raising his hand to fix his hair, he asked, "Are you suggesting I was wrong to try and eliminate him through the British intelligence bureau?"

"Not at all, sir," answered Xairo right away.

"Fine. Handle Gabriel as you see fit. I heard Xavier died under unusual circumstances. Who do we have in Korea now?"

"Gabriel's cousin."

Ziegfeld’s expression turned sharp in an instant.

"When Xavier died, we sent him to monitor Kang Chan. He’s in contact with Kang Chan’s woman and supported the recent terrorist attacks on South Korea’s previous NIS director and Energy Resource Department head."

Despite Xairo’s explanation, Ziegfeld’s gaze remained intense.

"My apologies. I thought I could manage it independently and judged it was unnecessary to bother you with minor details."

"Although I believe you, how do you justify not reporting back? Should I only expect to hear results from you from now on?"

"I was concerned about bothering you with minor issues, but I underestimated the situation. I’m sorry."

Xairo bowed his square head in acknowledgment of his mistake.

A brief silence followed. Xairo stood under Ziegfeld’s scrutinizing glare. The scorching sun shining on Bintan Island bore down on his head and shoulders.

"Xairo."

"Sir."

"You are free to retire whenever you want."

"I’m sorry."

Another silence ensued.

The sea breeze continued unabated, shaking the parasol that Ziegfeld was leaning on and sprinkling moisture from the ocean onto Xairo's head and shoulders.

"Where is Gabriel?"

"We can locate him through the chip implanted in his body."

"It’s hard to predict the game when chess pieces move on their own. Do you think I ask for detailed reports because I have nothing better to do? Monitoring Parthal was no different."

"I assure you this won’t happen again."

Ziegfield sighed. "You are free to make your own judgments and decisions, but if you fail to report again, you won’t even have the luxury to retire."

"Yes, sir."

Ziegfeld raised his glass and drank iced tea, a sign that his emotions had settled.

"Retrieve Gabriel and prepare to execute the plans that were halted due to Kang Chan."

"Yes, sir."

Ziegfeld waved his hand dismissively, and Xairo turned and walked away from the table, disappearing into the building.

"A yellow race surpassing the Caucasians, huh…"

He muttered to himself as he gazed out at the sea.

"Is it possible to create a monkey that surpasses the Caucasians through training? Thinking about him makes me doubt our grand plan."

With a baffled smile, he raised his glass.

"A toast to the divine will that killed the giant ant! The divine mission to cleanse this soiled Earth! And a world without yellow and negro races that do nothing but eat and breed!"

His face displayed a complicated mix of contempt and expectation.

***

Vasili poured himself another glass, then looked up. He had placed a table next to the bed, and Yang Bum sat across from him. In front of them were glasses and forks, and the plate in the center was full of well-cooked pork belly and bulgogi.

"Bring us another bottle."

"Да [1]."

A man with a rifle fetched a new bottle of soju from the refrigerator and placed it on the table.

Although Vasili’s injuries were serious enough to warrant concern, Yang Bum just silently watched.

"The intelligence bureaus must be in turmoil. How is China?"

"The Black Wolf Unit is dealing with the traitors as we speak."

"Why is it that the Black Wolf Unit, which even Suo Ke couldn't control, is so loyal to you?"

"Probably because Suo Ke tried to sell them out while I tried to buy them."

"Hmph!"

Vasili downed his soju in one gulp.

"This has an oddly sweet aftertaste."

He poured himself another glass, muttering excuses.

"I can’t believe our main character died so easily. This is troublesome."

Vasili rubbed his nose and mouth with his hand. Their conversation was in French so the men guarding them couldn’t understand.

"What are you planning to do?" Vasili asked.

"Chairman Lanok is still alive. Right now, regaining control of the Chinese intelligence bureau is my top priority."

"You're not giving up?"

"There's no room for negotiation with the Star of David anyway."

Vasili's eyes suddenly gleamed, seemingly dissatisfied with Yang Bum’s response.

"Russia is more or less sorted out. If necessary, I can even become the first ruler of Russia to hold both the positions of President and Director-General of our intelligence bureau. Anyway, I plan to destroy the next-generation energy facility being built in Saudi Arabia."

"I'll lend my support as soon as things are settled."

Vasili smiled slyly and raised his glass. "But, you see..."

Yang Bum, about to raise his glass for a toast, paused.

"I have a feeling that our main character is still alive somewhere."

"Could it be the shock of the news affecting you?"

Vasili shook his head.

"After years in the intelligence world, I’ve learned that, sometimes, our gut feeling can be more accurate than the evidence or data in front of us. I've survived numerous life-and-death situations thanks to my instincts, though it doesn't compare to our main character’s animalistic intuition.”

He sounded almost defensive. Meanwhile, Yang Fan simply watched with a peculiar smile.

"For once, I hope the news reports are accurate. I'd love to see Lanok’s nose rubbed in the dirt!"

Tink!

Vasili clinked his glass with Yang Bum’s and downed his soju in one go.

Is this what Vasili meant by intuition?

Yang Bum sensed that Vasili might actually become Russia's president—one without blood or tears that others could oppose.

1. Yes ☜

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