It took a great deal of effort, but I finally managed to meet Kurokawa Renji.
They called him the pinnacle of the Japanese yakuza, but who knew he was such a coward?
He had hidden himself away so thoroughly that he simply would not come out.
We only managed to meet Kurokawa after going all the way to Wakkanai in Hokkaido.
Wakkanai was the northernmost city in Japan,
more than 1,000 kilometers away from Tokyo, Kurokawa’s home base.
And it was only about 50 kilometers from Russia’s Sakhalin Island.
In other words, it was a city where one could stow away to Russia at any time.
That was Wakkanai.
Which meant.
Kurokawa was prepared to smuggle himself into Russia if anything went wrong.
For someone who had acted so high and mighty as the head of the yakuza, he had run all the way to Wakkanai the moment trouble arose.
“It’s been a while.”
“How did you know to find me here?”
“Well, there are plenty of ways to find someone. It’s not like you hid in the Amazon rainforest. Wakkanai is easy enough to track down. We do have an intelligence team, you know.”
“I can’t say I’m pleased to see you.”
Kurokawa looked displeased.
“Come on, after all I’ve done for you, old man, you’re going to turn me away at the door? That hurts my feelings.”
“You sure have a lot of feelings to hurt. Things aren’t good right now. So just let it go. Nothing will work at the moment.”
Before I could even say anything, Kurokawa cut me off flatly.
He meant he was going to keep hiding no matter what.
“Old man, you’re hurting my feelings again. I’m telling you, it’s not like that.”
“Then why did you come all the way here?”
“Business consulting.”
“I’m not taking that anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Last time, I accepted those guns, and look what happened. Because of you.”
Kurokawa’s voice rose slightly.
Last time, I had given Type 89 rifles to all twenty organizations.
Along with a one-billion-won incentive.
Because of the rifles I had given them, shootouts broke out between the yakuza,
and a crackdown on the yakuza began.
Thanks to that, they had all gone into hiding, so I could understand why he might resent me.
“Old man, that’s a strange way to put it. You said the Chinese bastards kept coming into Japan and the Russian bastards were sniffing around, so I got you guns to protect yourselves, and now it’s my fault?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Why are the yakuza the ones fighting each other, but I’m the one getting blamed for helping? Is this place the type to repay kindness with enmity?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I gave you money, and I gave you guns. I did my best.”
“But the result turned out like this. I’m frustrated too.”
Kurokawa also seemed frustrated and wronged by the unexpected outcome.
“Did I think this would happen? I was just showing you my trust. Don’t you understand my feelings?”
“I don’t. And I don’t want to.”
Kurokawa glanced at me and asked,
“By the way, the deposits haven’t been coming in lately. What happened?”
This old bastard was still hoping for money in the middle of all this?
He really had no shame.
“How am I supposed to make deposits when you’re not working?”
“What?”
“That was our deal, wasn’t it? Gathering rumors. And one hundred million won a day.”
“Th-that’s right.”
“But the information isn’t being uploaded. So how am I supposed to keep depositing money?”
“You should still do it. Our situation is a mess right now.”
“Old man. That’s not right. Who in this world doesn’t have circumstances? If I start taking everyone’s circumstances into account, there’ll be no end to it. That’s why we make contracts.”
Kurokawa’s head drooped.
He did not like it, but the look in his eyes said he reluctantly acknowledged it.
To change the mood, I spoke up.
“By the way, old man, do you know the saying saewongjima?”
“Saewongjima? Of course. It means it’s hard to predict whether the events of life are good or bad, doesn’t it? Good fortune can turn into misfortune, and misfortune can turn into good fortune.”
“Oh. Looks like you studied a bit back in school, old man. You know it well.”
“What about it?”
“Doesn’t this seem like that opportunity?”
“What opportunity?”
“The unification of Japan. Now is the chance. The chance to unite the yakuza.”
“Kha ha ha ha. If you were trying to make me laugh, you succeeded. That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard in the last twenty years.”
Kurokawa truly held his stomach and laughed.
“I’m not joking.”
“If you’re that confident, why don’t you do it yourself?”
Kurokawa’s voice lowered.
“I’m not interested in Japanese soil. I can make more than enough to live on even if it’s not here. I said it for your sake, old man.”
“What are you? Who the hell are you to come find someone in hiding and spout this bullshit?”
Kurokawa snapped at me instead.
That was proof that he was interested.
If he weren’t interested, he wouldn’t even ask.
But he was scared.
Then I would have to give him a bit of courage.
“I’m not spouting bullshit. Think about it. Think about how attractive the current situation is.”
“What?”
“All the yakuza have shrunk back right now. They’ve gotten weak. This is the best opportunity to unify the yakuza.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. And if we start a war now, we’ll simply be wiped out. Do you think the police will just sit back and watch us?”
“Don’t you think even your way of thinking is too old-fashioned, old man? Who these days fights with guns and knives? You need to use your head.”
“Do you have some method?”
“There is a method only you can use, old man.”
“Only me?”
“Yes. A method only you can use. ‘Merger.’”
“Merger?”
“The yakuza are in trouble. As a great elder of this world, we must join forces. We must become one. If you say that, won’t they gather?”
“You really think they’ll gather for that?”
“If they bring their members with them, you’ll preserve their positions. Like that. What do you think? If you slip them some money, I think they’ll come over.”
“... Hmm...”
Kurokawa looked deep in thought.
It seemed as if he was running a simulation.
He seemed to be thinking about how the yakuza would respond.
“You’re like a symbol of the yakuza, old man. If someone else said they were going to unify them, the backlash would be severe, but if you say it, I think they’ll follow. You have symbolic weight, and it doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”
“The opposition won’t be easy.”
“What opposition? It’s hard to live as a yakuza these days. If anything, they’ll jump at the chance and come. Don’t give them grief for coming in. Welcome them. If you do it with the concept of bringing them in respectfully, they’ll all come. Tell them you’ll pay salaries.”
Kurokawa closed his eyes.
Life as a yakuza truly was miserable.
Their glorious days had been brief.
Like a midsummer night’s dream.
Now they had no proper jobs and couldn’t even function in society.
Even if they wanted to live properly, the structure made it impossible.
If he could give such yakuza a new life, they would come no matter what.
“Solve it with money. If you can solve it with that, it’ll be the cheapest option. I’ll invest the money.”
“It’s not as if you’ll fund us for life. We need to run a business, but there’s no suitable item. Liquor isn’t easy, and loansharking is hard too.”
Kurokawa still seemed to be living in the glory days of the yakuza.
No, he seemed to be stuck there.
Liquor wholesaling and loansharking?
“Your life is hard because you keep trying to do fancy businesses like that. You need to do bottom-rung work.”
“Bottom-rung work? What is it?”
“Waste disposal.”
“What?”
“Buy some land somewhere out of the way and turn it into a waste disposal site. Not ordinary trash, but one that handles industrial waste separately.”
“That isn’t easy.”
He was negative.
“Then are you only going to do easy things for the rest of your life? Are you going to spend your whole life pulling pachinko levers and die on the street? For the sake of your juniors, you should at least secure one decent business item before you go.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but all sorts of regulations and laws...”
“If someone heard you, they’d think you were starting a startup. Why is a yakuza trying to obey every single law?”
“Then?”
“Set it up roughly, and if they fine you, pay the fine. If they shut you down, close the business and start again. Honestly, you’re living so honestly it doesn’t suit a yakuza.”
“That’s not it...”
After thinking for a moment, Kurokawa seemed to remember something and asked me,
“But what do you gain by doing this? It looks like you’ll only be spending money with nothing left for you. Don’t you have some scheme?”
“Me? Why would I have nothing to gain? I gain you, old man.”
Kurokawa’s face changed.
He looked somehow moved.
Huh? He wasn’t supposed to misunderstand it like this.
That wasn’t what I meant.
What I meant was that as long as I had the old man, I could use the organization however I wanted.
It meant I could use a unified yakuza.
The old man seemed to have seriously misunderstood.
That wasn’t it.
But before I could explain, the old man spoke first.
“Give me one day.”
“As much as you need.”
The old man gave himself a day and left.
I deliberately did not tell Kurokawa that the Osaka incident had been resolved.
The Osaka incident was under a media blackout, so the yakuza had no way to confirm whether the matter had been settled.
That was probably why they were still hiding.
But that would lessen his worries.
******
“I’ll be heading in now.”
Baek Donghyeon, director of the National Intelligence Service’s Overseas Intelligence Bureau, set down his glass as he spoke.
He had already been sitting there for an hour.
At this point, he thought he had done enough as a member.
“Director Baek, won’t you have one more drink?”
The National Assembly member sitting across from him picked up the bottle.
“I’m sorry. I have a meeting early tomorrow morning.”
Baek Donghyeon smiled and politely declined.
“Please enjoy yourselves. I’ll settle the bill before I go.”
“Don’t do that. It’s already a shame you’re leaving early, so why pay the bill too?”
An official from the Ministry of Economy and Finance waved his hand.
“No, it’s fine. Then please have a good time.”
Baek Donghyeon quietly offered his farewell and rose from his seat.
The part about having a meeting in the morning was a lie.
He simply did not want to stay there any longer.
He could not even tell where the alcohol was going.
His head was so complicated that he had wanted to drink soju in peace, but the atmosphere there was not like that.
It was a place where he had to attend to people and treat them with deference.
Even though he had become a director at the NIS, when he went there, he still had to play that role.
There had been a time when he had voluntarily sought out such gatherings.
When he was thirsty for promotion,
back when he was at the bottom.
That was when he met them.
Those people.
They introduced themselves as the Cheonghwa Association.
They said their goal was to create clear and peaceful days, a world like that.
Baek Donghyeon said he wanted to create such a world as well.
And so he joined.
Baek Donghyeon liked going to those meetings.
He could taste delicacies from land and sea.
He could go to high-class bars he could never have dreamed of on a civil servant’s salary,
and he could be introduced to many people.
From fellow civil servants to businessmen.
He could hear all sorts of information from those people.
Starting with the direction of national policy, all the way to real estate and stock information.
It was not a large amount of money, but he invested it and made quite a bit.
Baek Donghyeon also naturally shared the things he had come to know while working.
That was the kind of place it was.
They helped one another.
They pulled one another up.
His promotions came quickly.
At times, there were decisions he could not understand, but he thought there must be good reasons for them.
That was what decisions were like.
There was no such thing as a decision that satisfied everyone one hundred percent.
Opinions differed according to individual circumstances.
All the more so when the unit was as large as a nation.
It was true for any issue.
There were even people who complained when told they would receive a tax refund.
So he learned there that no matter what decision was made, there would inevitably be dissatisfaction.
That to do great things, one had to endure a certain degree of opposition.
He learned the skill of not listening to others.
In that way, Baek Donghyeon grew within the Cheonghwa Association.
But the times had changed.
From paper newspapers to YouTube.
Information no longer circulated within the Cheonghwa Association.
In the past, if something was said in a newspaper, it immediately became an issue, but this was no longer that era.
No matter how much they emphasized it and splashed it across the front page, there was not even a reaction.
With the collapse of paper newspapers, the Cheonghwa Association’s power was weakening as well.
So recently, he had been cautious in his actions.
He hid the fact that he was part of the Cheonghwa Association.
He no longer wanted to sit there, pandering to old men at a place that had nothing more to squeeze out of it.
After smoking a cigarette in front of his car and waiting a little, a man in a suit approached.
“You called for a designated driver, right?”
“Yes. This is the car.”
“You drive a nice car. I’m jealous.”
The designated driver complimented Baek Donghyeon’s car.
Baek Donghyeon’s shoulders rose for no reason.
The designated driver got into the driver’s seat, and just as Baek Donghyeon was about to get into the back seat, a heavy impact struck the back of his head.
Without even being able to resist, Baek Donghyeon collapsed headfirst into the back seat.
The car drove off as it was.
.
.
.
When he came to, the first thing he saw was suffocating gray concrete.
A single fluorescent light illuminated that gray glow.
His hands and feet were tightly bound to a chair.
Tape covered his mouth.
The moment he tried to assess the situation, someone entered.
"You're awake?"
It was a face he had never seen before.
But this man was too calm. Too natural.
His gaze was controlled.
No wasted movement.
A trained man.
A professional.
Baek Donghyeon tensed instinctively.
Professionals were difficult opponents.
Moreover, Baek Donghyeon was tied up.
At this rate, survival would be difficult.
He would play along for now.
Survival was the priority.
"What do you want? Let's give and take."
"Quite relaxed, aren't you?"
"Well, this is what I do for a living... You know who I am, right? That's why you grabbed me."
Baek Donghyeon asked boldly.
"I know. Baek Donghyeon, Director of the Foreign Intelligence Bureau at the National Intelligence Service. Right?"
"So it's not a case of mistaken identity. Then what do you want?"
"What I want... is nothing?"
"What?"
Baek Donghyeon was slightly flustered.
He had gone as far as kidnapping him in secret, yet wanted nothing?
Kidnapping an ordinary person was serious enough, but to kidnap the director of the National Intelligence Service and want nothing?
But the man's voice had changed as well.
It grew sharp and crude.
"I don't want a damn thing from you. Bastard."
"What? Does that even make sense? If you don't want anything, why did you kidnap me?"
"Because I just feel like shit?"
"What?"
He kidnapped someone just because he felt like shit?
This wasn't South America.
This was the Republic of Korea in the 21st century.
"Just seeing bastards like you makes me feel like shit. Pieces of trash who take a paycheck from the Republic of Korea and swear loyalty to Japan. That's why I brought you here. Thought I might feel better if I beat the hell out of you."
At those words, Baek Donghyeon sneered as if nauseated.
"Haah... A patriot. You must be young and naive. This isn't something you can judge by right and wrong. It's better to just endure a little humiliation. Act on your feelings for no reason and you'll ruin your life. Just like you're doing now."
"Thanks for the advice. It's nice to have someone giving me life advice. You must have lived a good life."
"You seem young, so stop playing around and untie me. Love for your country, youthful passion—I understand. But this is really not the way."
"Then what should I do?"
"We should slowly work through this with dialogue."
"And if words don't work?"
"We'll think about it then. We haven't even talked yet. Let's take it slow and figure it out."
"Fine."
I brought out paper and a pen.
"Write."
"What?"
"Cheonghwahoe members."
"Why?"
"Why do you think? To sweep away every last one of those shitty bastards."
"Hahahaha. Do you think that's even possible? Do you even know what Cheonghwahoe is? And if Cheonghwahoe goes down, do you think Japan will just sit still?"
"So you're admitting Japan is behind it?"
"It's not about being behind anything. Neighboring countries should help each other out and live well."
"Enough. Write this. If you don't, we'll start right away."
"Give it here."
I held out the paper and pen in front of the man.
"But my hands are tied, so I can't write."
"I think you could if you tried."
Baek Donghyeon fidgeted with the pen but couldn't get it to work.
"I can't. It won't write."
"Then I'll untie you."
The moment his right hand was freed, the hand gripping the ballpoint pen shot toward my throat.
A fast, concise movement.
The movement of a trained agent, indeed.
But I had expected this much.
A ballpoint pen could kill anyone.
Of course, I had thought he would attack if given a pen.
And Baek Donghyeon didn't deviate from that expectation in the slightest.
Blocking an attack that came exactly as expected was boring enough to make one yawn.
I grabbed Baek Donghyeon's right hand and twisted it.
The pen fell, and the sound of a wrist bone breaking rang out.
"Aaaargh!!"
"A shitty bastard with shitty habits, huh?"
Baek Donghyeon, his arm broken and in pain, his other arm tied up, unable to do anything.
He could only scream.
"Aaaargh! My arm!"
"You said let's talk. Talk. Is this your idea of talking? Fine. Let's talk to our hearts' content today."
Baek Donghyeon's face was stained with terror.
He understood what 'talk' meant here.
Baek Donghyeon shouted the question.
"Why the hell are you doing this?"
"Didn't you hear me? Bastards like you just ruin my mood, that's all."
"Please, don't do this."
"You're the one who shouldn't do this. So, are you going to write? Or should we talk?"
After a moment of hesitation, Baek Donghyeon took the pen in his left hand.
This time, he didn't spout any nonsense about being untied.
Struggling with his bound hand, he began to write down names.
"Write down their workplaces too, so there's no confusion. I'd feel bad if the wrong person died."
"..."
Baek Donghyeon glared at me once.
And then he continued to write down the names of the Cheonghwahoe members.
With his left hand, uncomfortably, pathetically.
Even so, survival came first.
He had lived his entire life that way.
By bowing his head to the strong, even if it looked a little servile.
In the empty space, only the scratching sound of the ballpoint pen quietly echoed.