Substitute-Chapter 130

Jung Yuchan was guarding the rats with the guards.

He’d been resting in the dorms when there was a commotion downstairs, and a little later he was summoned.

It wasn’t through a broadcast but by radio that he learned four undercover cops had been caught. Because of that, everyone resting in the dorms got called out, and “everyone” included Jung Yuchan.

Someone had seen Jung Yuchan go up to the second floor of the dorms, and since he’d still been wearing a hood until then, they naturally assumed he was the room’s owner.

“Get out here, now!”

He’d been so startled by the pounding on the door that even now, the memory made his knees go weak.

The only reason he hadn’t drawn suspicion from the other guards was the hood and the game.

Who knew not showing your face would be such a big advantage.

Above all, because the game continued in the foul weather, every last man from 1st and 2nd Squad had been scattered randomly; no one could count their number accurately, and no one even tried.

By chance, mixing back in among the guards, the place Jung Yuchan headed was Basement Level 3.

In front of the B3 elevators a handler was waiting — an elite operative wearing clothes with a special mark.

“Follow me.”

The elite operative with a combat pack took the lead.

Walking a familiar corridor that smelled thickly of pool disinfectant and raw water, Jung Yuchan lifted a brow. Where there had been a wall, a passage had opened.

Unlike the earlier, simple rectangle, once they took the new passage, a space no different from a maze spread out.

An ant nest. Yes, an ant nest.

Thinking the words, Jung Yuchan felt a crisis settle in: if you got lost here, it was over.

Focus.

He kept whipping himself like that whenever he could.

The ant nest’s air was so fresh and the surroundings so bright you wouldn’t think you were on B3.

If there were only markers, he could have mapped out the interior easily, but unfortunately there were none.

Everything visible was white. On either side of the corridor were identical doors, evenly spaced. Among those doors, some had to be fake, but you couldn’t tell by eye.

After a few forks, he no longer knew where he was.

Following the handler like that, at some point Jung Yuchan began to feel a faint vibration. The vibration grew stronger, and then he heard noise. It wasn’t very loud, but he knew immediately it was mechanical.

Vibration and noise.

The sound of generators running.

If they had generators, the space must be sizable, and yet to the eye it looked no different from what they’d been passing.

After they passed the spot of strongest vibration and through a few more white doors, the handler finally stopped.

A quick glance at his wristwatch read 9:25. There were still two hours and thirty-five minutes until midnight.

The handler looked over the men.

“From now on, no matter what happens, the six of you hold this place. The hostages inside are your responsibility.”

Calling the captured undercovers “hostages,” the handler took off his pack.

He pulled out tasers and new radios and handed them around, then took the men’s existing radios, stuck stickers on them one by one, and stuffed them into the pack.

“From now on, use the new radios. Fire the taser only on orders.”

Then he tossed the pack.

With a thud loud enough to hear, the pack flew in. Jung Yuchan snatched it.

Why give this to me? He was still blinking at that when the handler knocked on one of the white doors, exchanged a code with whoever was inside, and the door opened.

Another man — also an elite operative — jerked his chin for them to come in.

File in, file in — and Jung Yuchan flinched when he saw the weapon the doorman carried.

A shotgun.

He’d heard only 3rd Squad had those.

Shit, we’re fucked.

Swallowing hard, Jung Yuchan went to the spot the handler indicated.

The room they entered was close to a logistics warehouse. No one would imagine such a place hid behind a plain door; it was that big and wide.

What filled the broad space were three huge fuel tanks and dozens of drums stacked neatly on a three-story steel rack. Judging from the fire partitions and firefighting systems in place to prevent fire and explosion, this was clearly the generator fuel storage room. Even with soundproofing and vibration control installed, he could feel the tremor through the floor and hear the low “whummm.”

In case of a blackout, I could hide for a bit between those drums, he thought, glancing around.

But there was no sign of people.

Where the hell were the undercovers being held?

No matter how he searched with his eyes, he couldn’t see the hostages.

Then he heard the scrape of chains.

Turning toward the sound, Jung Yuchan finally found them.

Kneeling between the drums sat men with their eyes and mouths covered. Their arms and legs were chained to the drums. Their clothes, faces, and necks were soaked in blood.

The first man wore black like them, the second wore swim trunks, the third workout clothes, and the fourth...

Where is he?

He’d definitely heard it was four; one was missing.

Just then the siren blared, and Manager Kim’s announcement followed.

Manager Kim revealed the identities of the four undercover cops.

None of the names were ones Jung Yuchan knew. Of course; the more people knew the undercovers’ identities, the more danger they’d be in, so secrecy had been strict, and Jung Yuchan hadn’t felt a need to know.

Hearing the name Yoon Jiwon made him think of Kim Jiwon, but it was just because the names matched.

Rather than being curious who they were, it bothered Jung Yuchan that the head count didn’t match.

Where did one go? Did they kill him already?

All sorts of thoughts raced.

The handler swapped out with the elite inside, taking the shotgun as well.

“No touching the hostages and no talking! Do your business in that drum!”

Barking the order, the handler grabbed a folding chair sitting inside and went back out. The door closed. To be precise, it locked.

Six guards stayed in the fuel storage room with the hostages — that is, three of the undercovers.

You fucking piece of shit.

Curses burst from five mouths at once, but no one said anything else. Insults were one thing, but everyone knew all too well that showing dissatisfaction with orders got you cut from the op on the spot.

The hostages were bound anyway, so the guards had nothing much to do. One sat on the floor, one leaned against the wall, another paced the warehouse.

Jung Yuchan was one of the sitters. He wedged the combat pack between his legs and took a spot with all five guards in view. He didn’t let his guard down just because the undercovers were caught. He didn’t know when he might be exposed himself, so he prepared for anything.

Suddenly he got curious about the pack’s contents. Judging from how they’d thrown it at him, odds were it held nothing special, but he meant to open it at the right moment anyway.

The floor’s vibration made his body quiver faintly. With the light smell of petroleum and the tremor, it felt like sitting on an old city bus rattling along a country road.

Amid the low hum, the scrape of chains on the floor pricked his ears now and then. The hostages groaned or moaned, but no one paid them any mind.

Only Jung Yuchan watched them.

A swim coach, a trainer, even security. Honestly, unexpected. He hadn’t imagined they’d infiltrate as staff. And though not here, if he added the fourth captured man and the chance acquaintance Choi Minjae, that made five total.

With what money did they deploy that many people?

As far as he knew, the police had no money. Especially not money to spend on men who lie with men.

He even began to doubt whether they were really police.

Time crawled.

The steady noise and vibration were like a lullaby. He tried not to nod off, but his head kept dropping.

How long had it been?

With a pop, the warehouse was instantly plunged into darkness.

The floor’s constant vibration and noise cut off too.

“What the hell.”

“Is it a blackout?”

“Hey, somebody ask the guy outside.”

Nodding off, Jung Yuchan instinctively looked down at his watch.

11:28:37.

The power cut thirty minutes earlier than scheduled.

Two guards who had been sprawled on the floor and hadn’t even noticed the blackout only roused when their teammates kicked them.

The other three switched on flashlights, and one of the three went to the door to contact the handler.

And just like that, Jung Yuchan’s moment came.

He sprang up and grabbed the bag. Bit by bit, he moved his body to slip away from the flashlight beams, poised to dash toward the stacked drums when the chance came — and ran into unexpected people.

Facilities Management staff.

There must be a passage connecting this place and the generator room; three of them came out at once from the fuel tank side. Each holding a flashlight, the Facilities staff weren’t surprised to see the guards.

“What is it?”

One of the guards shone his flashlight their way and asked.

“We’re from Facilities. We’re checking the fuel tanks.”

No sooner had one of ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the staff said that than—

“Busy as hell and you morons have to butt in.”

—another technician grumbled right out loud.

But none of the guards picked a fight with them. As if used to this—

“Big talk for guys who only fondle fuel.”

—they just jeered loudly back like the Facilities staff had.

The three staff quickly spread out, each taking a tank to check the fuel gauge.

“Shit, what is this. Unit 1’s tank is empty.”

“You idiot. How’s that possible? Hang on. The hell is this?”

“What? Why?”

“Shit, Unit 2’s dry too. That can’t be...”

“Hey, Unit 3’s at the end too.”

“Wait, wait. Isn’t it a sensor error? No way all three tanks are empty at once.”

The three were clearly rattled.

“Radio the Chief. Now!”

One of them shouted this and ran toward the stacked drums.

At the same time he yelled to the guards:

“Hey, Security! Give us a hand! It’s urgent!”

But the guards were indifferent.

“What are they even yapping about.”

They spat and watched like it was someone else’s problem.

“Check if there’s fuel in the drums!”

They sounded desperate, but the guards snickered.

“Handle it yourselves, technicians.”

“Serves you right.”

They laughed to their heart’s content at the frantic technicians and savored their misfortune. Then they remembered the teammate who’d gone to check with the handler.

“Hey, why isn’t the guy who went to ask back yet?”

“He’ll come. Those elite pricks are so dumb he’s probably explaining forever.”

“Or he’s watching them kiss the Captain’s ass over the radio. ‘Yes, Captain. Yes, yes.’”

They bowed with exaggerated obsequiousness and snickered.

Even with the power out, everyone was carefree.

While both groups were distracted with their own problems, Jung Yuchan managed to slip between the drums. He watched the technicians closely and moved quietly so they wouldn’t spot him. Then he went to the first row they’d finished checking and crouched low.

Before moving in earnest, he checked the pack. If there was anything useful, he meant to take it.

Peering inside with the flashlight switched on under the flap so no light leaked out, Jung Yuchan’s face stiffened.

Though no one was watching, he snapped the light off and zipped the bag. He shouldered the pack at once and stood. He drew the free taser and the weapon hidden under his black clothes.

Around that time, Jiwon was peeking into the generator room. They’d made a show of shouting and even left the door open, so it was easy to find the spot in question.

The generator room, built like an underground bunker, was blacked out and still as the grave. Instead, right next to it came the sounds of men shouting over each other and running.

Using the commotion, Jiwon slipped past the generator room and headed for the place leaking light. Wearing the Facilities Power Chief’s coveralls, he flicked on his flashlight and walked like he belonged.

The hood was a stroke of genius. The hoods the project people used to hide themselves now greatly aided hiding the enemy’s identity.

So this is where they had the undercovers.

Jiwon locked eyes with a guard sitting on a chair in front of a white door. More precisely, with the one good eye.

Even with chaos inside, the guard looked strangely relaxed.

“What’s the matter?”

“As you can see, blackout. I’m here to check the generators.”

Jiwon scraped his throat to imitate the Chief’s voice.

Even with a flashlight, it was dark overall, so the black-clad guard didn’t notice Jiwon’s one eye was bruised purple and puffed up.

“Is that so?”

The black-clad guard cleaned his ear like he couldn’t care less.

What kind of prick is this.

“Can’t you hear my men shouting in there?”

He deliberately barked, but the black-clad guard didn’t react much.

“You’re going inside?”

What a question.

“How else am I supposed to check? For God’s sake.”

Jiwon clicked his tongue.

“Sorry about this.”

At those words, the black-clad guard raised the shotgun.

“Put down the flashlight and the radio.”

Even his threatening tone was polite.

Jiwon hadn’t expected anyone to point a gun in a place like this and was taken aback.

Shit. Figures I’d be lucky today.

He let out a dry laugh at the weapon he hadn’t even imagined — a shotgun.

Jiwon did as ordered, set down the flashlight and radio, and obediently raised both hands.