GB 108

Instantly, Haero understood who the “big fish” was. The Captain had come for revenge. Revenge against the unwelcome visitor Yoon Moo-hwa who had invaded his island like a plague, and against the ungrateful bastard “Number 8” who had brought him there.

He couldn’t become a hindrance to Yoon Moo-hwa. That wasn’t why he came. Haero tried to bite his tongue in one swift move, but Dong In-hak noticed and stuffed a filthy cloth with a musty smell and salty taste into Haero’s mouth.

“I always had an eye for kids. Look how tough you are. Even at such a crucial moment, you should all have the courage to bite your tongue and die instantly like this.”

As he gave this sneering advice to those lined up behind him, Dong In-hak’s deeply sunken and haggard eyes looked not human but like those of a living corpse. He tossed Haero’s identification tag in the air and caught it, then gestured toward the helicopter.

“Put this one in the fish hold.”

Haero struggled frantically and tried to scream. But he couldn’t move at all with the filthy cloth blocking his mouth and arms restraining his body.

Due to his fierce resistance, one of the men holding Haero struck the back of his neck violently, as if finding him difficult to handle.

As his vision narrowed instantly and his sense of balance wavered, Haero watched pirates climbing the ladder to the helicopter and muttered inwardly, “No, no, no… Hyung. Yoon Moo-hwa.”

But he finally lost consciousness.

✼✼✼

The pilot noticed something was wrong just before Haero set foot on the ship. He successfully connected with the flagship before the jamming counterattack came in. Thanks to this, the pirates’ helicopter never landed on Yoon Moo-hwa’s ship.

However, during the process of shooting down the helicopter that had entered their range, the tail section of the aircraft broke off and crashed into the warship, making damage unavoidable.

The deck suffered major damage, and there were also injuries from debris. The damage was so severe that returning to port was inevitable. The fishing vessel that had sent the distress signal was already completely in the pirates’ hands, and it was assumed that the distress request made outside the combat zone was part of the pirates’ operation from the beginning.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s squadron, which had hastily entered port in South Africa, handed over the merchant vessels to the South African Navy, judging that they could not be immediately deployed for operations due to the damage.

However, the threat was so provocative that it seemed almost suicidal, and since this was unprecedented even for them, the merchant vessels couldn’t hastily set sail either. As a result, news came that they changed their approach to moving cargo by land to Egypt and departing from there again.

And Yoon Moo-hwa…

“Does it make sense to assume there’s a possibility of collusion just because he was originally a pirate?”

He was furiously angry.

He had been on the verge of madness since receiving the urgent report from the helicopter that combat seemed to have broken out on the rescue target vessel and it was suspected to be a trap.

The damage was severe, sparing neither civilian lives nor equipment. He knew that unpredictable events far outnumbered predictable ones at sea, but nothing had ever struck him like this. He had always responded quickly and accurately when unexpected situations arose, but now he looked like a fire-breathing monster.

No one dared approach him.

It’s not possible to rashly attempt a rescue when survival status is uncertain.

Yoon Moo-hwa finally smashed the monitor after seeing the superiors’ response, which was delivered as text rather than voice.

Survival status unknown? He knew. Since the contact from the helicopter, Yoon Moo-hwa had Haero’s vital signs displayed on his wrist. The heartbeat repeatedly raced madly, then slowed frighteningly, then sped up again.

But it was definitely beating.

However, he couldn’t carelessly mention that he knew about Haero’s survival status. If that fact was revealed within this conservative organization, there would be many ready to tear him apart. Before even addressing the survival issue, endless theoretical debates would follow about whether the chip was inserted with the other party’s consent, and if he became subject to investigation, he would clearly find it even harder to act under surveillance.

“It wasn’t our operational area. It happened outside our zone, and you know it takes time to decode information coming from international waters.”

He naturally vented his fiery anger at Alyosha as well. Alyosha was very confused seeing Yoon Moo-hwa this angry for the first time, and having heard about the situation, his pride was also severely wounded.

In international waters, information is transmitted to nearby operation headquarters in encrypted form. After decoding, information is passed down to the squadron and coast guard of the relevant waters, but this method had long been criticized as inefficient. This is what led to such results, as the system remained in place with no suitable alternative.

Moreover, determining whether the incident occurred in territorial waters or international waters was a sensitive issue to begin with. It was similar to debating whether damage to a road was the responsibility of the local government or the department of transportation, but it was a much more sensitive and larger issue. This remained true even in the current situation where allied navies were jointly protecting the seas.

There was no way to vent this anger. Yoon Moo-hwa leaned on his desk with his head down, breathing heavily, and then swept everything off the desk. Even that wasn’t enough, so he reduced the room’s interior to almost a mess.

This was why the aide who entered the room shortly after was so surprised that he momentarily forgot to salute.

“Bring it.” Yoon Moo-hwa, standing in the middle of the ruins with his hands on his waist and breathing heavily, flicked his hand. “No salute necessary, just bring it immediately!”

The newly arrived aide was from the South African Allied Naval Base Operations Command, temporarily assisting Yoon Moo-hwa in place of the officers stationed in designated quarters for situation reports, including crew members transferred to the military hospital.

He had heard various rumors about Yoon Moo-hwa and had read about his achievements in the naval base’s public materials, so he had been secretly looking forward to meeting him.

However, the Yoon Moo-hwa he faced directly was quite different from the rumors.

The aide flinched greatly at the harsh tone from his superior, who he had heard was somewhat lacking in humanity but never raised his voice or used rough language.

When he hurriedly approached and presented the materials he had been ordered to gather, a rough hand grabbed them. Yoon Moo-hwa nervously lit a cigarette that he had hastily put in his mouth with empty hands.

The lighter wouldn’t light properly.

“Shit!”

He was about to throw it to the floor but restrained himself and tried lighting it again. The lit cigarette instantly burned halfway down. He flipped through the list with anxious hands. It was undoubtedly the first time in his life that Yoon Moo-hwa had lost his reason and self-control to this extent. Even when he was attacked by pirates, shot, and swept into the sea, he hadn’t lost his composure.

But perhaps the reason he could maintain his composure then was because Haero had been in front of him when he regained consciousness. Because Number 8 had saved him. That reckless Haero who had nothing but audacity back then.

After confirming all the written contents, Yoon Moo-hwa nodded. “Thank you. You may go.”

Though he said thanks, no such emotion was felt. 

The aide hesitated and carefully asked, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, sir?”

“No.” Yoon Moo-hwa answered briefly while exhaling smoke through his nose. 

After irritably putting out his cigarette, he opened the cigarette pack to find it empty. The crumpled empty box was thrown to the floor. Yoon Moo-hwa raised his fist toward the now-empty space with nothing left to destroy, then lowered it.

Looking back, he saw the aide still in place, extremely tense. A tired, raspy voice filled the room.

“Ah. Cigarettes.” Scratching his forehead, he muttered again busily, “Cigarettes. Could you bring me some cigarettes.”

This disheveled appearance of Yoon Moo-hwa was probably the first time anyone had seen him like this. The time passed like an eternity, so different from imagination and expectation. The aide, as if possessed, left in a daze and began running down the corridor.

The armed conflict itself wasn’t unprecedented. Rather, this operation had been unusually smooth until now. However, disguising a distress signal to hijack a helicopter and then attempting to infiltrate a warship was certainly a shocking, unprecedented event, making the atmosphere at the South African base very unsettled.

Yoon Moo-hwa had been provided with a private mansion near the base as his official residence, with military police stationed around for protection.

The tobacco that Yoon Moo-hwa occasionally, very occasionally smoked was a brand not available at the PX. The aide who went outside headed to the nearest store selling cigarettes and lottery tickets, and fortunately, they had that product in stock.

“Give me a carton, please.”

The shopkeeper slowly packed the items in a black bag. After handing over the bills, the aide hurriedly turned and headed back to the base. He too was very disturbed, his mind so busy that he could hardly see his surroundings.

The military police checked the aide and formally inspected the contents of the bag before letting him in. The house was eerily cold despite the air conditioning barely being on. The living room vase remained broken and uncleared because the nervous Yoon Moo-hwa had ordered that no one be allowed in unless he called for them.

The aide knocked and carefully opened the door. Inside, Yoon Moo-hwa was tilting his head back, swallowing medicine with water. Noticing the aide, he flicked his hand. Moving the water to his cheeks until they bulged, he swallowed with a gulp and said thanks in a very dry, rough voice.

“Not at all, sir. Please call if you need anything else!” The aide, showing rigid military discipline for the first time in a while, saluted. 

Yoon Moo-hwa looked tired. He nervously tore open the cigarette carton and then opened the packaging of the foremost pack. Just as the aide had witnessed this and was turning to leave, carefully closing the door behind him—

Yoon Moo-hwa’s eyes slowly widened as he looked inside the cigarette pack. Then, gripping the pack so tightly his face turned pale with shock, he shouted, “Lieutenant!”

“Yes, sir! Yes!” The startled aide flung open the closing door and stepped back inside. 

Yoon Moo-hwa instantly came to him, grabbed his shoulders, shook him roughly, and urgently asked, “This, where did you buy this? Huh?! Where, from which bastard did you buy this?!”