Chapter 115: Wrong Answer, Right Answer

TL: LittlePeach

"...."

"...."

A heavy silence settled over the office for a while.

It felt far more suffocating than the battle of nerves I'd just had with Bureau Director Yang Ui-jin as an Eagle agent.

'What is this?'

They'd asked for my opinion, so I'd simply given them my honest thoughts. I had no idea why everyone was making faces like that.

"You asked what I thought about the mission, so I simply gave you my honest impression."

"No, that's not what I meant...."

Bureau Director Yang Ui-jin asked again as though doubting his own ears.

"I was asking whether you truly think the field agents assigned this mission would refuse it."

"Oh, that? Of course they'd curse up a storm and turn it down."

"R-right. That's exactly my point."

I nodded calmly as I answered.

Only then did Bureau Director Yang Ui-jin nod along with me. Meanwhile, Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong, who had been silently watching me, ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"Then what about you? How do you feel?"

"Me?"

"You just said it sounded fun."

He latched onto the offhand remark I'd tossed out a moment ago.

He stared straight at me, his eyes gleaming.

"I'll ask you directly instead of beating around the bush. This is a commando mission where you may have to risk your life. If we wanted to put you on this job, would you accept?"

I closed my mouth for a moment and pretended to seriously think it over.

The reality of being an NIS black agent was nothing like the movies in the first place.

They hovered around their targets digging up bits and pieces of intel, casually befriended the people around them and collected whatever fragments slipped out in conversation, then bolted without looking back the moment anything felt even slightly off.

That was basically the entire job.

Coolly infiltrating enemy territory, snapping the villain's neck, then strolling away with an explosion blazing behind you simply wasn't the kind of glamorous mission that existed in real life.

'How could I possibly pass this up?'

So, to be completely frank, if someone had to carry out a cinematic spy operation like this, then naturally that ridiculous role belonged to me.

The fact that my sturdy body meant I didn't have to worry about dying was almost beside the point. There were moments in a man's life that were simply impossible to resist.

Mission: Impossible.

Wasn't that every intelligence agent's dream?

I met Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong's gaze with wide, unblinking eyes.

"...."

"...."

He stared back at me in silence until, at some point, an incredulous chuckle escaped him.

"...Now I understand why the Deputy Director likes you so much."

***

From there, all of us headed straight to Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek's office.

"The operational outline is as follows. We'll rush Team Leader Kang Hae-chan, disguised with special-effects makeup, to a Swiss bank...."

As he listened to the rough operational briefing from the two bureau directors who had suddenly barged into his office, Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek's gaze occasionally flicked toward me.

"...."

When the explanation was over, he looked speechless for quite some time.

After running various calculations through his head, he studied me closely.

"...You already seem to have seriously made up your mind, so I'll give you just one instruction. If anything feels even slightly wrong during the mission, abort the operation immediately and return. No hesitation."

"I'll keep that in mind."

There was nothing complicated to weigh.

The NIS needed an agent with the nerve and ability to carry out this insane operation, and I wanted to be the leading man in this movie-like mission.

And now, the Deputy Director had given the go-ahead.

"Oh my. What a shame to cover up that handsome face."

"From this point on, don't move your face at all, okay? If you feel like you're going to sneeze, wave your hand."

"Mmph, mmph."

The support staff from the special-effects makeup team flooded into headquarters almost immediately after being contacted.

They were experts in the field, professionals who worked on film and television productions.

"It'll take about an hour for the silicone to fully bond to your skin, okay? Even if it gets itchy, you have to endure it."

"Hehe. Why is your skin so clear? It's practically baby skin."

"Mmph."

While the senior officials at headquarters gathered to hammer out the details of the operation, I began undergoing special-effects makeup without being able to move a muscle.

It was an arduous process of applying thin layers of silicone over my skin one at a time, carefully drying each one, then adding adhesive and latex.

-I was a section chief in Room 39. I handled the great Republic's revolutionary funds, so I expect to be treated accordingly.

At the same time, I played the video of Secretary Pak Mun-ju's defection interview that Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek had given me on my phone and watched it on repeat until I was sick of it.

His peculiar turns of phrase, habitual gestures, facial expressions, gait, even his Munhwaeo accent.

While I burned every one of those traits into my mind, the higher-ups finalized the operational plan they'd put their heads together to create, and the special-effects makeup session finally came to an end after a full three hours.

"This medication suppresses the oil produced by your pores. Make sure you take it twice a day."

"Anything else I need to watch out for besides keeping water off it?"

"You'll be fine for the first two days, but starting on the third, it can get pretty itchy. It's a natural side effect as the adhesive cures."

"I can handle itching."

"It'll probably be really hard to endure.... Other than that, not much."

A sharp-featured middle-aged man stared back at me from the mirror, looking somehow haughty yet strangely anxious at the same time.

I couldn't stop marveling inwardly at the unfamiliar face reflected there.

'This is incredible.'

I really did feel like the protagonist of a spy movie.

And once I was handed a newly forged South Korean passport for Secretary Pak Mun-ju, my heart slowly began to pound with excitement.

***

And so, here I was.

[Attention, passengers. Due to the large number of bags with similar shapes and colors, incidents of passengers taking the wrong luggage have occurred. When collecting your baggage, please check the number and name on your baggage tag....]

I had arrived at the immigration checkpoint at Fiumicino Airport in Italy.

My final destination was supposed to be Bern, Switzerland.

So why had I come to an Italian airport instead of one in Switzerland?

"Good morning, Mr. Pak."

"Buongiorno."

The key to this operation wasn't merely deceiving people about my identity with special-effects makeup.

Instead of disguising myself as Secretary Pak Mun-ju and heading quietly and directly to Switzerland, the heart of the operation was to stop first in Italy, where he had originally been stationed.

The immigration officer casually handed my passport back and gave me a mechanical greeting.

"Your passport appears to be in order. What is the purpose of your visit to Italy?"

"Business."

"Business. Where will you be staying?"

"Mercury Villa, outside Fiumicino."

"Very well."

In the wake of an unprecedented mass defection, the North Korean inspection team would be combing every corner of Europe with a fine-tooth comb.

So before heading to Switzerland, the first stage of the operation was to openly enter Italy and draw every last bit of their attention here.

As though I still had belongings I hadn't retrieved or some important business left unfinished.

"Could you wait just a moment? Our system is running a little slow right now."

"I'm in no hurry. Take your time."

"Thank you."

According to Secretary Pak Mun-ju, after his defection debriefing was complete, quite a few employees in the immigration office here at Fiumicino Airport were on North Korea's payroll.

'For all I know, this immigration officer might be one of them.'

The calculation was that the instant one of them called the North Korean Embassy's hotline, North Korean eyes scattered throughout Europe would swarm toward Italy like a pack of hyenas.

The dispatched North Korean inspection team also desperately needed to produce some kind of result if they wanted to avoid getting caught up in the bloody purge themselves.

"All right. Everything checks out. I hope you enjoy your time in Italy, signore."

"Grazie."

After arriving in Italy, I planned to quietly board a train and travel overland into Switzerland.

Once I visited the Swiss bank and completed the transfer procedure, the operation would be over.

Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek had given me exactly one warning regarding this mission.

'Don't die.'

He had seen me off with a grave expression, as though asking the hardest thing imaginable.

'That's the easy part.'

For me, it wasn't even something that needed saying.

***

Gabrio Narancia, boss of the Narancia Family.

His mood had been particularly foul lately.

One of the organization's key revenue streams, the distribution of North Korean narcotics, had suffered a massive disruption.

'Pak Mun-ju, that porca miseria bastard....'

Secretary Pak Mun-ju.

For nearly a year, he had secretly conducted drug deals with the Narancia Family, and until recently, Gabrio had believed they shared a solid business partnership.

Now, however, his name sat at the very top of the Narancia Family's hit list.

'Franco went to hand him the payment for the deal and disappeared that very day. And for some damned reason, Pak Mun-ju has ignored every attempt we've made to contact him ever since.'

From the Narancia Family's perspective, it was enough to drive them insane.

A senior figure at the heart of their drug operation had vanished into thin air, while the man they'd considered a valuable business partner had brazenly ignored their calls and gone dark.

'He didn't know why.'

No, he had no intention of finding out.

Among mafiosi, suspicion was as good as certainty.

Once suspicion fell on someone, there was no need to bother with a trial.

'That son of a bitch has to be the culprit.'

The uncanny timing of Pak Mun-ju cutting contact immediately after Franco disappeared was more than enough justification to riddle him with bullets.

And finally, now.

"B-boss! That fucking Pak Mun-ju showed up at the airport just a little while ago!"

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely! Three different employees working in the airport arrivals hall contacted us at almost the same time."

"Did you find out where he's staying?"

"Looks like he rented a villa on the outskirts near the airport. They say he left the airport alone in a taxi, no bodyguards or anything."

"Good. If it had been a hotel, there would've been too many eyes around. Things might've gotten messy."

At the welcome report from his subordinate, Gabrio opened a drawer and pulled out his pistol.

"Gather the boys. Now."

"How many are we taking?"

"All of them."

In the mafia world, bonds ran thicker than blood.

If one member of the Family suffered an unjust death, the organization had to sink its teeth in and hold on until revenge was complete.

Even if it meant the destruction of the organization itself, that blood debt had to be repaid.

"Let's make sure he learns exactly what happens when someone lays a hand on our Family in Italy."

A chain of hatred, a vicious cycle without end.

To Italian men, that was what vendetta meant.

***

At the same time, at the North Korean Embassy in Italy.

"I-Inspector Comrade! We've just received intel that Pak Mun-ju, that wench, entered through the airport in Rome carrying a South Chosun passport!"

"What?!"

At that moment, murderous intent flashed coldly in the eyes of Section Chief Tak Ji-ung, the chief inspector dispatched directly from North Korea.

It wasn't enough that the bastard had betrayed the motherland and fled. He actually dared to stroll back in on his own two feet carrying a South Chosun passport!

The sheer gall of it was so outrageous that Tak almost laughed.

"That bastard's finally gotten too bold for his own good! Assemble the strike squad at once. Before the night is over, we'll cut that reactionary's head off and show everyone the stern judgment of the Party!"

"Understood, Comrade!"

First the Narancia Family mafia, and now a North Korean assassination squad.

They all began racing toward the same wrong answer: Pak Mun-ju.

*****

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