“Noona. I got a job.”
“A job? Where? Is it the place the boss helped you get into?”
“Yeah.”
Yuri took the business card Cheol-woo handed over with both hands and read it slowly.
Her expression darkened.
Geummyeong Security.
It was a company often mentioned in bad news.
“You got hired there? You?”
“Ah, why are you looking at me like that? It’s kind of a big company, you know.”
“It’s only called Geummyeong now. It’s no longer part of the Geummyeong Group. It’s basically a gang company now.”
“A gang company? They said the starting salary is 5 million won.”
“Thugs always make a lot of money, you know.”
Clack, clack—
Yuri started searching “Geummyeong Security” on a portal site.
-Accusations of prisoner massacres during the Iraq civil war.
-Illegal involvement in the Kosovo War.
-Illegal firearm possession charges in Korea.
Her jaw dropped as she read one shocking article after another.
“This is a full-on global mafia!”
“Hey now. Not gangsters—mercenaries. These days they call them PMCs. Only a few were problematic. Most of them probably work legally.”
“Come on, it’s obviously dangerous. Shooting guns is part of the job!”
“Well, that’s just overseas stuff. I can’t even get a passport because of that drug investigation. How would I go abroad? I’ll just work in Korea.”
“They’ve been caught firing guns inside Korea too, you know?”
“….”
Cheol-woo went silent.
No matter how he tried to sugarcoat it, the company had a shady reputation.
But the fact that it hadn’t been shut down despite all the controversies meant it wasn’t completely illegal, right?
He figured all those incidents were in the past, and things must’ve cleaned up since then.
“Let’s find something else, okay?”
“Where else am I gonna go? No other place pays 5 million won a month. I need to pay off my debt fast too.”
“Sigh… then promise me one thing. If they ever make you do anything unethical or illegal? You quit. Right away. Got it?”
“Got it, noona.”
“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”
“I got it.”
Only after making him promise multiple times did Yuri fall silent, still shooting him a doubtful look.
Cheol-woo, clicking his tongue internally at how picky his sister was, decided to just focus on getting ready for his first day tomorrow.
His one and only suit was covered in mud and dirt…
But they told him to come in comfortable clothes, so… should be fine, right?
“They said ‘comfortable clothes’ and you actually show up in jeans and track pants? Wow, we’ve got ourselves a real star newbie here.”
“….”
First day of work.
Cheol-woo stepped into a building that looked surprisingly clean-cut for a “global gang.”
He was guided straight to the basement.
Section Chief Jung, who was in charge of new hire training, burst out laughing the moment he saw him.
“I heard the Director tested you himself? You must be pretty skilled then.”
“Y-yes…”
“Here, try holding this first. It’s a .22 caliber Luger pistol. Barely makes a sound with a silencer attached.”
“Is this a real gun…?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re not shooting people with it, right?”
“If needed, you will. Quit with the questions. There’s a lot to go over. By the end of this week, you need to know how to fully disassemble and reassemble every gun here.”
“If needed, you will”?
He already had one foot out the door.
On his first day, it felt like they were practically advertising: “We’re doing unethical and illegal stuff here!”
“Chief… I…”
“I heard things are tight for you. I’ve already deposited this month’s salary in advance. Use that for your living expenses.”
“…Thank you.”
Dding.
After checking the phone notification confirming that 5 million won had been deposited, the words “I’d like to quit” that had risen to the tip of Cheol-woo’s throat promptly vanished.
Screw ethics, screw the law—if the money’s good, that’s all that matters.
Now that the money was in his account, Cheol-woo felt like he could hop on a plane to the Middle East right that second and start shooting without hesitation.
“You idiot. What are you doing? You’re supposed to line up the rear and front sights with your right eye before shooting!”
“Oh. That little bump was for that?”
After breezing through the disassembly and reassembly explanations, they moved on to live firing.
The moment it started, Section Chief Jung’s face lit up with confusion.
From how he held the gun to how he aimed—it was all obviously amateurish.
And yet—bang, bang, bang—every shot landed dead center on the target.
Section Chief Jung’s eye twitched.
“What the hell were you aiming at just now?”
“Just kind of… followed the direction the barrel was pointing… eyeballed it, I guess…”
“What the…?”
Who is this guy?
Eyeballed it? Is that even possible?
What, does this guy see a crosshair in his vision like it’s an FPS game?
He’d just asked HQ to send anyone to fill a headcount—and somehow Director Yoo had sent over a monster.
Jung let out a stunned, breathy laugh, disbelief dripping from every exhale.
Clack, clack.
Section Chief Jung entered a spotless, glossy office that looked obsessively maintained and bowed his head.
Director Yoo lazily waved a hand, as if to say “We don’t need all this between us,” so Jung finally raised his head and handed over some paperwork.
“This is the new recruit’s evaluation.”
“Forget that. Just tell me in words—I don’t get a feel for it from weird graphs and metrics. I want your opinion.”
“Min Cheol-woo, this guy’s the real deal.”
“Top-tier sniper?”
“No. He’s S-tier across the board. Sure, he’s sniper-level good, but his close-range skills are so strong it’d be a waste to tuck him away as a sniper.”
“You saying that means a lot. How fast is he? Faster than you?”
“He’s not quite faster than me yet. But his spatial awareness is insane.”
“What do you mean?”
“After just one shot, he memorizes the trajectory. Doesn’t matter if it’s 100, 200, or 300 meters—he hits every time. His brain just calibrates the zeroing instantly. Doesn’t even need a scope. Even with weird stances, he lands every shot.”
“That’s exceptional.”
“It really is.”
If Jung was admitting someone was only slightly slower than him, then Cheol-woo was already at elite marksman level.
And if he could shoot that fast and maintain that accuracy?
Hmm—Yoo let out a sly, satisfied smile.
He’d sneered at the chairman before, wondering why he was throwing money at that pathetic little agency.
What was the investment again? Ten billion won?
If they played this right, they’d make that money back and then some.
“What do you think, Jung? Will he handle the drugs? Will he last?”
“Yes. He’ll last. No doubt about it.”
Jung responded immediately, with complete confidence.
Yoo pulled out his phone and started playing a video.
“He better. If something like this ever gets filmed in Korea, we’re screwed.”
As the video began, screams erupted from the speakers.
A blurry figure zipped across the shaky footage.
In the next scene, that same figure let out a monstrous roar, then charged and violently kicked someone who was trying to escape.
The kick didn’t even look that forceful—more like a light tap—
But the person’s back snapped backward like a twig, and they went flying.
“Where’s this? China?”
“Yeah. Drug side effects, apparently.”
“The rookie will be fine. All the abnormal freaks we’ve had never showed side effects.”
“Oh my. Did you just call me a freak?”
“…”
Jung glanced sideways at the long sword hanging on the wall of the office.
Since Director Yoo got promoted to management, she hadn’t drawn her sword again.
Thinking back to when she was still active in the field, calling her a “monster” felt like a cute understatement.
“If Chief Jung says so, then I’ll trust your judgment. Assign the rookie his first mission as soon as possible. We’ll decide on the drug depending on how he performs.”
“Yes, understood.”
“The rookie… he’ll do well, right?”
“I’ll make sure he does.”
“Good.”
Sliiiick—Director Yoo’s lips curled into a smile.
Chief Jung flinched, startled by the sight, and quickly lowered his head to hide it.
She was his superior, sure, but that smile of hers was just plain eerie sometimes.
‘Why the hell are we using live rounds for the first mission?’
Sitting in the shaking van, Cheol-woo kept subconsciously stroking the pistol tucked inside his inner jacket pocket.
They said it was a mission, so he just hopped in the van with the rest of Team 1.
But the fact that everyone was armed with real guns gave him an uneasy feeling.
He thought they were heading to some remote mountain area or something, but the van stopped at a building in the city outskirts.
It had a huge logo that read Oriental Shipping plastered on the front.
The sliding door of the van rattled open, and the team members got out, drawing their guns.
“You got your holster?”
“Yeah, all set.”
“Keep your piece in the inner holster at all times. Stuffing it in a pocket or pants will make it bulge and stand out. And you—stay here. Watch the van.”
“Uh, excuse me, but… can I at least know what kind of mission this is…?”
“Oh, it’s nothing special. Just think of it like a training exercise. It’s subcontracted from upstairs, so nothing shady.”
Team Leader Woo patted Cheol-woo’s shoulder with a smile that seemed genuinely warm, then led the team into the building.
Compared to Director Yoo, who gave off a naturally sinister vibe, Woo’s friendly demeanor felt way more trustworthy.
“Training? Like training mercenaries or something?”
Still, the dispatch felt way too urgent for a training op…
This company really was shady.
But Cheol-woo decided not to overthink it.
Even if the company was involved in shady business behind the scenes, as long as he stayed on the clean side, it was fine.
“Is it over?”
Suddenly, strange noises started coming from inside the building.
Cheol-woo, who’d been lazily passing time with a yawn, perked up.
He figured the team was coming out—but something felt off.
Screams? No, shrieks? Something inhuman was echoing faintly…
“KYEEEEEK!”
“?!”
With a crash, a monstrous creature came flying through the glass.
It slammed into the van like a missile, crumpling its frame, and then—crack crack—emerged from the wreckage with the sound of breaking bones.
Wait.
Was that… a person?
The way it moved—so far beyond the range of human joint flexibility—made it impossible to recognize it as human at first.
“What the hell?!”
The “person” lunged at Cheol-woo, clawing at a concrete wall.
SCRAAAAAPE—
Deep gouges were left where its nails tore through the concrete.
Cheol-woo barely dodged, eyes wide in disbelief.
It looked human, sure—but its actions definitely weren’t.
His reaction was quick.
Without hesitation, Cheol-woo drew his pistol.
Bang bang bang!
Two shots to the chest, one right between the eyes.
‘It’s still alive?!’
It staggered as if it might fall—then regained its balance and stood back up.
The skull hadn’t been pierced.
A 9mm round from a P226 should easily go through any normal human skull, even most ballistic helmets.
While the “human” flew toward him again, Cheol-woo’s mind went blank for a moment.
But in that split-second, he made a decision—and his body reacted.
If the skull can’t be pierced, then there’s only one other option.
“KYEEEEEK!”
As the claws flew toward him, Cheol-woo dove in close.
The muzzle of his gun lined up with the creature’s eye socket—
Bang bang bang!
Blood splattered.
The creature spun and slammed into the ground.
It didn’t get up again.
“…The fuck was that?”
Cheol-woo stood in stunned silence, dumbfounded.
Then—CRASH!—the front glass of the building exploded as a sedan burst through.
On instinct, Cheol-woo rolled forward to dodge it.
The car skidded and drifted out onto the road with a screech.
Through the shattered window, he locked eyes with an older woman behind the wheel.
Reflexively, he raised his gun—
Vroooom—
The car drove off into the distance.
Cheol-woo slowly lowered his pistol.
How could he shoot something he didn’t even understand?