Chapter 9:One chance

The next phase of the plan required precision and caution. Si Mok and his friends knew they couldn't all travel together to Korea—it would be too obvious, too easy for the assemblyman's network to trace. Instead, they had decided to split up, traveling separately on different dates, from different countries. Man-ho had even arranged for various disguises and routes, ensuring that no one would suspect their ultimate destination.

It was a plan that needed to work. Failure meant more than just losing the slush fund—it could mean their lives.

Man-ho and Si Mok were the first to depart. After wrapping up their last discussions, they drove toward the airport in an inconspicuous vehicle. The military presence around them still unsettled Si Mok, though he had grown accustomed to seeing armed men all around in Man-ho's world.

As they neared the airport gates, their car was stopped by a few heavily armed guards.

One of the soldiers peered into the vehicle, his gaze locking onto them. "Papers, please," he said gruffly.

Man-ho handed over their identification, glancing at Si Mok with a silent nod. Si Mok's heartbeat sped up slightly—this was where things could go wrong. But after a moment, the soldier returned with a slight smile and said, "You're clear. We've received word from Goto. Safe travels."

Goto again. His reach was everywhere. Si Mok's skin prickled with unease as they drove through the gates.

The airport wasn't what Si Mok had expected. There were no regular passengers, no bustling crowds. Instead, they were greeted by a line of paramilitary men, all loading up a massive cargo plane that loomed like a metal beast on the runway. Si Mok's eyes widened at the scale of the operation. Whatever this was, it was far bigger than anything he had imagined.

At the center of the activity was Goto Suguru, overseeing the entire process with his characteristic coolness. He spotted Si Mok and Man-ho as they approached, and without any ceremony, he walked toward them. His presence still sent a wave of tension through the air.

Si Mok and Man-ho exchanged a glance. They had every reason not to trust Goto, despite his assistance so far. He was unpredictable, and they couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing a game, one they hadn't quite figured out yet. Still, they had no choice but to follow through. The stakes were too high.

"Still don't trust me?" Goto asked with a smirk as he stood before them. His tone was light, but it carried an edge that made it clear he didn't care about their doubts.

"Should we?" Man-ho retorted, keeping his voice low.

Goto's eyes flicked to Si Mok, his expression growing serious for a moment. "After you arrive in the U.S., you'll need to get some minor surgeries," he said flatly, as though he were discussing the weather. "It'll help alter your appearance slightly—enough to throw off anyone who might be looking for you."

Si Mok frowned. The idea of changing his appearance, even just a little, left a bitter taste in his mouth. But Goto wasn't done.

"And," Goto added, pulling a small piece of paper from his pocket, "once you've set up in the U.S., you need to invest the money you took from the assemblyman into a company called ATLAS. They'll know how to handle it. Just don't ask too many questions."

Si Mok took the paper, glancing down at the name scrawled on it. ATLAS. He didn't know what the company was or how it fit into the grander scheme, but he'd have to look into it once he got to the U.S.

Without another word, Goto turned back toward the cargo plane, signaling the men to finish up the loading process. The plane was massive, built for transporting heavy loads, and Si Mok could feel the intensity of the operation in the air. Everything was moving quickly, and they were running out of time.

Man-ho and Si Mok exchanged one last glance. The cargo was loaded, and the plane was ready to take off. They watched from the runway as Goto's paramilitary crew finished the final checks.

"Safe travels, Mok," Man-ho said, a rare smile breaking through his usual serious demeanor. He had opted to stay behind in Pakistan, ensuring that his presence in Rawalpindi remained unnoticed by any potential threats. "We'll meet again. Stay alive, okay?"

Si Mok nodded, though his mind was still spinning from everything that had happened. He boarded the plane with a sense of finality, feeling the weight of the next steps pressing down on him. The ramp closed behind him with a metallic thud, and the plane began to taxi down the runway.

As the plane climbed higher into the sky, the cargo area was dimly lit, and Si Mok found himself seated next to a few of the paramilitary men Goto had assigned to his transport. The hum of the engines was loud, but it gave Si Mok time to think. The uneasy feeling of traveling with these men—who were clearly loyal to Goto—kept him on edge.

Hours passed, and Si Mok dozed off, his exhaustion catching up to him. But he was jolted awake when he felt the plane suddenly decelerate. His body lurched forward slightly from the shift in speed, and alarm bells rang in his head.

"What's going on?" he asked one of the men.

Before anyone could answer, Goto himself appeared, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"We're going to drop some cargo," Goto said calmly, as though this were a normal mid-flight procedure.

Si Mok blinked. "In mid-air? Why?"

Goto looked at him and shrugged, as if the answer were self-explanatory. "Because some things need to disappear. Just like you."

There was a chilling undercurrent to his words that sent a shiver down Si Mok's spine.

Goto walked over to the cargo bay doors, hitting a button that caused the massive bay to begin opening. The roar of the wind filled the cabin as the doors slowly parted, revealing the dark sky outside. Below, Si Mok could see nothing but clouds and distant mountains.

One by one, tons of cargo—heavy crates, large metal containers, and even a few vehicles—were released from the plane, plummeting into the abyss below. The sight was unnerving, but before Si Mok could process it, Goto turned back to him.

"These men here," Goto said, gesturing to the paramilitary crew still seated calmly, "they'll help you with everything once you land. But listen carefully—you only have one chance to take that old geezer down."

Goto's eyes bore into Si Mok's, and for a moment, the weight of what he was saying sank in. This wasn't just about escaping or starting over. This was about revenge.

And then, without warning, Goto gave a small nod to the paramilitary crew. They stood up, securing the remaining cargo, but Si Mok's attention was fixed on Goto.

In one smooth motion, Goto stepped toward the open bay doors.

"What are you doing?" Si Mok shouted over the roar of the wind.

Goto didn't answer. Instead, he gave Si Mok one last glance, a cold, almost detached smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I have other matters to attend to. Stay alive, Hwang. Don't waste this chance."

And then, with a final nod, Goto jumped.

Si Mok rushed to the edge of the bay doors, watching in disbelief as Goto plummeted toward the earth below. Seconds later, a parachute deployed, and Goto disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but the roaring wind and Si Mok's racing thoughts.

The bay doors slowly closed, and the plane continued on its course.

Man-ho had watched the plane depart hours ago, but even he couldn't have predicted how quickly things were already spiraling out of control.

Si Mok sat back down, his mind racing. Everything was happening too fast. Goto's words echoed in his ears—you only have one chance.

As the plane flew through the dark sky, Si Mok knew that chance was coming sooner than he had ever imagined.

Once the adrenaline wore off, Si Mok stared at the file Goto had handed him earlier. Inside was his new identity: a Korean man living in the U.S. who had been in a coma for six years. The meticulous detail in the file left no room for doubt—this was a new life, complete with a flawless backstory that could fool even the most diligent investigator. It was almost disturbing how easily Goto had arranged this.

He flipped through the rest of the contents, noting the extensive instructions on how to invest the stolen funds into ATLAS. Every part of the plan was covered, down to the smallest detail. Si Mok was left with one overwhelming thought: Who the hell is Goto, really?

"He can get a new identity this perfect," Si Mok muttered to himself, his thoughts racing, "but what are his connections?"

He had trusted Goto this far, but the deeper they went into the plan, the more it felt like Goto was weaving a web, pulling strings that none of them fully understood. The unease in Si Mok's chest grew, but for now, he had no choice but to follow through.