16.A Starving Person Has No Regard For Rules.

Ding Qing was nagging incessantly, like an old grandmother, urging his "little brother" to calm down. After all, Zhang Qian's combat skills were lethal, and with Lee Tae's explosive abilities combined with Yellow Ox's intimidating physique, the three of them could easily take down dozens of people. If Lee Tae lost his temper, there was no way Director Ding's old bones could handle it.

"You're really getting on my nerves," Lee Tae grumbled, feeling as if his ears were about to grow calluses from listening. "Bringing some backup for you is just for show."

Ding Qing didn't believe him one bit; his little brother was known for flipping tables at the drop of a hat. "Can you at least give me a bit of face?" Ding Qing pleaded. "If the director plays unfairly, I'll stand with you. But if he shows respect, then peace will prevail."

"Alright, alright," Lee Tae sighed. "I'll leave Zhang Qian and the others outside. Yellow Ox will come in with us."

Ding Qing let out a relieved breath, his back damp with sweat. This role of "big brother" was way too difficult; his "big brother" didn't act like one, and his "little brother" was anything but submissive. This life was seriously messed up.

"Come on, let's eat first," he suggested.

On the outskirts of Yeosu, two black Mercedes, flanked by a van, wound their way up a mountain road. As they rounded a bend, a grand estate came into view, with a scenic view of the blue sea in the distance and green mountains nearby—a truly pleasing sight. The parking lot was lined with about a dozen cars, each with a suited bodyguard stationed in front, creating an imposing atmosphere.

"Hey, let's stick to the plan," Ding Qing reminded Lee Tae as they stepped out of the car.

"Yeah, sure," muttered Lee Tae, though he was tempted to ignore him. But Ding Qing's nagging was relentless, so he only called Yellow Ox out of the car and nodded slightly to Zhang Qian in the van before following Ding Qing toward the estate.

"Those are Jaehyung Gang people," Ding Qing noted, having spent enough time in the gang to recognize them instantly.

"No sign of the Empire Gang?" asked Lee Tae.

Ding Qing shook his head. "Not that I can see."

Lee Tae's face remained impassive. Two national organizations meeting in secret could only mean a big deal. But why wasn't the Empire Gang involved? Could it be that the formation of the Geumgang Group would involve merging the three gangs in stages?

"Mr. Ding, the director is waiting for you," a black-suited man standing just inside the door announced expressionlessly as the three of them approached. "This way, please."

Lee Tae and Ding Qing exchanged glances, understanding immediately that this was the work of Director Kim. And sure enough, when they entered the tea room, they found Director Kim sitting cross-legged on the floor, his head wrapped in bandages, looking quite smug. In the center of the room sat an elderly man in his sixties.

"Director," Ding Qing greeted respectfully.

"Ah, Mr. Ding and Mr. Lee, you're here," the director replied. "Have a seat and enjoy some tea." Despite his age, his voice was robust. A servant dressed in traditional Korean attire poured tea for both of them.

"The reason our Bukda Gang has managed to establish itself in Korea," the director began, "is because we share the same heritage, the same language and customs. We've all faced bullying from the Koreans here, which is why we banded together to make a living."

He paused, glancing at Director Kim. "I hear there was a misunderstanding?"

"I hope we can resolve it peacefully for the sake of future harmony."

"Director!" Kim clutched his head, whining, "This man doesn't respect hierarchy. It's as if the organization means nothing to him."

Lee Tae shot him a cold glare, a single look that silenced Director Kim.

"See? Look at his attitude!" Kim spluttered angrily. "A mere agent, acting so disrespectfully toward a director. What will the others think?"

Just as Ding Qing was about to respond, Lee Tae interrupted. "Director Kim, the fish market isn't far from here," he said. "If I were you, I'd head over for some fresh seafood right now."

"You're not young anymore, so you should know that you're no longer a spry twenty-year-old. Eat some sea cucumber, go fishing… and wear a helmet while you're at it. You never know who might hit you on the head," he added.

Although he hadn't been in this world long, Lee Tae knew one thing: when dealing with gang members, there was no room for courtesy, whether it was with one's own faction or outsiders. The more polite you were, the more they'd walk all over you. To handle these types, you had to hit back harder. If they brought fists, you answered with a knife.

Director Kim froze, stunned, his face going pale as he stammered, "Director, you see? This impudent kid doesn't even respect you!"

Ding Qing smirked. "Director Kim, are you deaf? Or is your eyesight failing?"

"Mr. Lee is clearly looking out for you," he continued mockingly. "Isn't sea cucumber supposed to be delicious? You might even find some young company for the evening—good for vitality, right?"

The two of them tag-teamed the insults, leaving Director Kim trembling with rage, his face turning pale as he nearly fainted.

"Enough," the director set his teacup down. "Everyone, mind your manners. There must be a reason for such disrespect."

"Director," said Lee Tae, speaking up without hesitation, "the organization assigned me and my big brother here to expand our territory in Yeosu. Isn't that right?"

"Our brothers need to eat, and the organization hasn't provided us with any funds. So what are we supposed to do?"

"We had no choice but to fight for territory. After all the blood and sweat we shed to secure three territories, Director Kim here just wants us to hand them back? And why? Just because he's older? Or did he take a bribe?"

Director Kim's pupils shrank, and he scrambled to respond, "Director, that's not it! The organization and the Empire Gang reached a peace agreement, and he broke the rules!"

"Rules?" scoffed Lee Tae. "Who informed us?"

He let out a cold snort. "A starving man doesn't care about rules."

"Director, Director, you see?" Director Kim clutched onto the opportunity, his tone pitiful. "This brat doesn't understand hierarchy. He's nothing but a rabid dog!"

Bang!