3.Another War God Shows Up

The apartment wasn't large—about 30 square meters, crammed with a bedroom, living room, and dining area. After his shower, Lee Tae slipped into a crisp white shirt, cigarette in hand, quietly gazing out the window. Yeosu was a coastal city, and since it was only a county-level city in terms of its administrative structure, there weren't many tall buildings. From his third-floor vantage point, he could just make out the distant sea.

Lost in thought, he mused that Yeosu was merely a small city, yet over a dozen gangs had taken root here, all likely drawn by the harbor. It was already the early 21st century, and the world was increasingly interconnected. Whoever controlled the ports controlled a treasure trove of wealth.

"Knock, knock."

"Come in."

Lee Tae turned his head as the door opened. A man entered, his hair tied in a ponytail, his eyes fierce and his face rugged.

"Boss." It was Zhang Qian, the loyal follower summoned by the system. Standing at the door, he bowed respectfully. "At your command."

"Where are you from?" Lee Tae asked.

"The North," Zhang Qian replied, standing straight. "Here to serve you, Boss."

A sense of kinship stirred within Lee Tae. Not bad, system. You've brought me someone from my own people. Things were getting interesting. When it came to gangs, all these local groups were mere novices. Back in the day, a group of just a few dozen people from Fujian could make the Yamaguchi-gumi so scared they called the police. If that could happen, it was clear how formidable the Chinese really were. And in South Korea? Don't even mention it. In the future, those who came from the north would turn the entire underworld upside down.

Checking the time, Lee Tae said, "Let's go."

They hailed a cab and arrived at the restaurant where Ding Qing had set up their meal within ten minutes. Inside, five or six men were already seated. When they saw Lee Tae enter, they quickly stood and bowed.

"Ah, the skinny old man finally showed up," Ding Qing quipped from the counter, where he'd been flirting with a waitress. His usual devil-may-care attitude made Lee Tae want to give him a couple of black eyes.

"Waitress, bring the food!" Ding Qing shouted with a wave of his hand. "Bring the meat!"

In South Korea, meat was a luxury, whether it was beef or pork. Most families couldn't afford to eat it more than once every ten days or so. This was one of the things that annoyed Lee Tae the most about being stuck in this country. Anywhere else would've been fine, but he ended up in this "kimchi land." Was that stuff even edible?

Zhang Qian, exuding a fierce aura, sat down on Lee Tae's right-hand side, prompting Ding Qing to gape. "Damn, where are your manners?"

"Is this one of your guys?" Ding Qing asked, eyeing Zhang Qian.

"Just picked him up. Thought I'd bring him out to meet everyone," Lee Tae replied.

Ding Qing grinned. "Looks like you're finally starting to gather some followers."

"Pour the drinks," Ding Qing ordered. Lee Tae, however, would never pour drinks for anyone. The social rules in South Korea were absurd, and he hadn't crossed through time just to play servant to anyone.

The charcoal grill sizzled as plates of sliced pork were brought out, the meat's aroma wafting through the air. Even Lee Tae, who wasn't particularly hungry, found himself tempted. Eating meat in this country was no small feat.

As the group ate and drank, the conversation flowed easily. For the average thug, life at the bottom was simple—just a bit of food, drink, and they were satisfied.

After polishing off the last slice of pork and finishing a cup of soju, Lee Tae wiped his mouth with a napkin. "That must've hurt your wallet," he said to Ding Qing.

Ding Qing, still early in his career, had barely any money to his name. Having kimchi was considered a luxury, so today's meat feast must've pained him.

"If you've got money, you've got to spend it," Ding Qing said, lighting a cigarette. After a few puffs, he added, "This came from the boss upstairs."

He tossed a thick wad of 5,000-won bills onto the table. It looked like a lot, but in reality, it was only about five grand.

Lee Tae nodded slightly and gestured for Zhang Qian to collect the money.

"Let's go see a movie," Ding Qing suggested, winking playfully. "Nothing like a little entertainment after a good meal."

"And then what, hit up the girls?" Lee Tae asked with a smirk.

Ding Qing hesitated, then grinned. "Hell yeah, let's hit the nightclub. Plenty of women to go around—what's there to worry about?"

At the bottom of society, men like Ding Qing lived for the moment, never worrying about the future.

"It's time to start making money," Lee Tae sighed. Life in this godforsaken place was suffocating. The three major factions hadn't yet merged, and Ding Qing was still just a small-time leader. His daily pleasures consisted of watching sleazy movies and chatting with women. Lee Tae didn't want to live like this for another day. If you were going to live in the underworld, you had to do it in style, with the best food and the finest women. What was the point of chasing after low-rent flings?

"Don't be so cocky, man," Ding Qing muttered. "We just finished a big job. Let's take it slow for a while."

"I'm not asking you to go," Lee Tae said, glancing at the five other men at the table. "You guys, come with me."

"Yes, Boss," the five men responded in unison, bowing deeply.

Ding Qing slapped his forehead. "Damn it, who's the real boss here?"

"Sorry, Boss," the five men apologized again, bowing to Ding Qing this time.

"Alright, little bro, where are we headed?" Ding Qing knew that once Lee Tae made up his mind, there was no changing it. He might as well go along.

"The arcade," Lee Tae said, getting straight to the point. He ordered his men to prepare the necessary equipment and set up a meeting point. With everything in place, the group stood up and set out together.