Chapter 12 - A City in Flames
Min-hyuk grabbed the radio, snapping the channel to the encrypted frequency used by the port authority. What poured from the speaker was chaos—shouted orders, the wail of harbor sirens, and the unmistakable roar of explosions.
Chairman Song hadn't just retreated to lick his wounds. Realizing that Min-hyuk was alive and that his entire criminal enterprise was compromised, Song was executing a scorched-earth protocol. He had locked down the entire Busan logistics hub, seizing a shipment of military-grade munitions intended for an overseas buyer, and was liquidating every warehouse, every captain, and every crew member who had ever shown loyalty to Min-hyuk.
"He's burning the city down," Dr. Han stammered, running a trembling hand through his thinning hair. "He’s preparing to board an unregistered container ship to Vladivostok. Once he crosses into international waters with those shipping bonds, he’s untouchable. And he’s leaving three hundred bodies in his wake to cover his tracks."
Min-hyuk listened to the frantic transmissions, his jaw hardening into granite. Song was doing what he had always done: burning the evidence, sacrificing everyone around him to preserve his own skin, just as he had done to Dae-hyun ten years ago.
"How much fuel do we have in the truck?" Min-hyuk asked the lieutenant.
"Enough to reach the southern terminal," the man answered, checking the magazine of his rifle. "Boss, you can't go back there. It’s a war zone. Song’s mercenaries have barricaded the docks with shipping containers. The regional SWAT teams won't even breach the perimeter until noon."
"I don't need SWAT," Min-hyuk said coldly.
He walked over to a heavy wooden locker built into the cabin floor. Lifting the trapdoor, he revealed a cache he had prepared years ago for the day he inevitably turned on Song: military-grade breaching charges, thermite grenades, ceramic armor plates, and customized assault weapons.
Su-ah stood up from her mother’s bedside, walking silently across the room until she stood directly before him. She looked up, reaching into her pocket, and pulled out the ivory handkerchief he had given her in the flooded basement. It was washed clean, neatly folded into a small, crisp square.
She held it out to him. "You forgot this."
Min-hyuk looked at the small piece of cloth, then down at the girl who had stabbed a giant to save his life. Slowly, he took the handkerchief and tucked it into his breast pocket, right above his scarred heart.
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"Stay with your mother," Min-hyuk said, his voice softer than it had ever been. "When I come back, the debt is cleared."
"Don't die," she said, her voice completely steady. "You still owe me my wages."
