The calm before revenge

Si Mok's mind was still clouded with anxiety, the tension from his journey refusing to ease. Sensing his discomfort, Lee Man-ho cast him a sidelong glance and said, "Chill, look around you. This is the safest place in Pakistan."

Si Mok glanced out the window as they drove through a high-security zone. On one side, he saw the towering structure of the Anti-Narcotics Headquarters, its perimeter heavily guarded. On the other, a building with the words "NASTP Headquarters" emblazoned across its front—a place with an unmistakable air of high-level operations and secrecy. The roar of jet engines tore through the air above them, and when Si Mok looked up, he saw a fighter jet speeding across the sky. Up ahead, the gates of an air force base loomed, the walls lined with watchtowers.

The sense of security was palpable, but it didn't put Si Mok entirely at ease. His enemies were powerful, and they had already shown how far they were willing to go to eliminate him.

The car eventually pulled up to a heavily guarded gate. An armed officer approached, and Lee Man-ho exchanged words with him in Urdu before they were allowed to continue. As they drove inside, Si Mok saw tanks parked in neat rows, soldiers conducting drills—everything exuding an overwhelming show of force. This place was fortified like a fortress.

Finally, the car stopped in front of a small restaurant. Lee Man-ho got out, and Si Mok followed, his stomach growling in protest. It had been too long since he'd had a proper meal, and the sight and smell of the food inside were almost too much to bear.

He ate voraciously, devouring everything put in front of him. The server looked on, wide-eyed at the amount of food Si Mok managed to pack away. It felt like the first time in weeks that he could relax, even if only for a moment.

As Si Mok finished his meal, Lee Man-ho's phone rang. He answered, and as he listened, his eyes fixed on Si Mok, an incredulous expression forming on his face. He ended the call, shaking his head with a bemused smile.

"Crazy bastard," he muttered. "What the hell is this about?"

Si Mok frowned, swallowing the last of his food. "What is it?"

"You," Man-ho said, "embezzled 300 billion won and then committed suicide. That's the story they're telling." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What did you get yourself into, Si Mok?"

Si Mok let out a weary sigh, nodding towards a more private area. "Let's talk in private."

Lee Man-ho led him to an office at the back of the restaurant. Once inside, he closed the door behind them and gestured for Si Mok to speak.

Si Mok explained everything—how he had uncovered the assemblyman's embezzlement, his decision to indict him, and the sudden assignment that took him to Turkey. He spoke of the recording he received, the realization that his life was in danger, and the elaborate ruse he had pulled off to fake his own death. By the time he finished, Lee Man-ho was staring at him, his expression unreadable.

Man-ho took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "That's... a lot," he finally said. He pulled out his phone, making a quick call. "Yeah, I need a room for a guest. Whatever he needs—get it."

Shortly after, an officer entered the room, standing at attention. "Yes, sir?"

Lee Man-ho nodded towards Si Mok. "Take him to a room. Make sure he gets anything he needs. We'll talk later."

The officer nodded, gesturing for Si Mok to follow him. As they walked through the hallways, Si Mok's mind raced. Despite the exhaustion, his thoughts kept returning to everything that had happened, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As they reached the room, Si Mok turned to the officer. "Can you get me a laptop?"

The officer nodded, and once Si Mok was inside, he took a long, hot shower, the water washing away the grime of his journey. Just as he stepped out, he heard a knock at the door. Wrapping a towel around himself, he opened the door to see the officer standing there, a laptop in hand.

"Here you go, sir," the officer said, handing it over.

Si Mok thanked him and closed the door, settling on the bed with the laptop. He opened the browser and typed in his own name, a knot of anger tightening in his chest as he saw the headlines.

"Prosecutor Si Mok Hwang Commits Suicide Amidst Embezzlement Scandal."

The article went on to describe how he had supposedly stolen 300 billion won, painting him as corrupt and unethical. Worse still, the crimes he had indicted Assemblyman Kang and his associates for were now being pinned on him. It was an all-out smear campaign, designed to tarnish his reputation even in death.

Si Mok clenched his jaw, rage boiling inside him. These men were not just satisfied with killing him; they wanted to destroy everything he stood for. They were covering their tracks by making him the scapegoat, erasing the justice he had fought for.

But despite the anger, he was still too exhausted to think clearly. The adrenaline of survival had finally worn off, leaving only weariness in its wake. He closed the laptop, laying down on the bed.

As his eyes closed, his thoughts drifted. What would his next move be? How could he take back control of this situation?

He didn't have all the answers yet, but one thing was certain—this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.