Chapter 125: Pak Mun-ju Has Appeared!

TL: LittlePeach

Just before leaving for the vineyard, I first locked everything I couldn't afford to lose in the hotel safe.

My passport, notebook, phone, wallet, things like that.

Then I gave Maximilien a tap on the shoulder.

“I've got something I need to pick up, so I think I'll have to head out separately.”

“Hmm? Something you need to pick up.... Do you need a weapon? I brought quite a bit besides my sniper rifle.”

“No, not a weapon. I think I'm going to need a car.”

Maximilien tilted his head as he gathered his equipment.

“You can ride with me. There's room.”

“No. It's complicated to explain, but that's not what I mean.”

What mattered wasn't the exterior, but the interior.

What mattered was what was loaded inside it.

“I'll meet up with you once the operation starts.”

“You're coming to the rooftop, right?”

“Probably?”

Leaving the puzzled siblings behind, I stepped out of the hotel.

Then I pressed a number saved on the satellite phone.

Riiing, click.

Just as I licked my lips, the call connected.

I immediately dropped my voice.

“This is Pak Mun-ju.”

-...Secretary?

I could practically feel the shock through the phone.

The one who answered was Bugak No. 1 of the Diplomatic Mission Intelligence Bureau's Italy Team.

“Sorry to call at this hour. Can you talk?”

-Uh.... Yes. I can talk, but....

Bugak No. 1 muttered, sounding utterly thrown off.

-Are you still in Italy, by any chance? As far as I know, I was informed that the operation concluded yesterday.

“That is correct. I remain in Italy.”

-I-I see?

It was an awkward hour, too late for evening and too early for dawn.

He probably never imagined he'd suddenly get a call from me at a time like this.

-What are you calling about?

“I find myself in unavoidable need of a vehicle. Could you perhaps assist me?”

-Ah, well.... You mean vehicle support?

The operation was already over, yet here I was suddenly asking him to produce a car.

Bugak No. 1 couldn't hide his confusion and stumbled over his words.

“That sedan you brought me before, the one with the grenades in it. It's still in Naples, isn't it?”

-...I don't know how you know that, but yes.... It is.

“I need to borrow it briefly. I'll retrieve it myself, so just leave the key with the car and send me the location.”

I said it as confidently as if the car were mine to claim, but truthfully, I wasn't entirely sure this would work.

I had no idea whether the authority Yun Tae-seong had transferred to me was still in effect.

-...Understood. I'll send you the address immediately.

“Thank you.”

Apparently, Bugak No. 1 wasn't entirely sure either.

After ending the call, a message arrived almost immediately.

-The car key is hidden above the left rear tire.

The location was a private parking lot near the Port of Naples.

When I reached a secluded corner of the lot, sure enough, there was a familiar car sitting right there.

And just as expected.

“Oh.”

The back seat was still packed with the gas cylinders I'd loaded up before but never gotten to use.

I'd originally brought them along to blow the entire Scampia apartment complex sky-high.

‘There was a reason I specifically asked for this car.’

It seemed the Bugak Team hadn't known what to do with them either and had simply left the car sitting there until everyone forgot about it.

‘You can't go pay your respects empty-handed, can you?’

What could be a hotter, more passionate tribute to someone's unjust death than an explosion?

Vroooom.

And so I drove to the vineyard.

Bang!

Ratatatat!

A gunfight between the North Korean inspection team and the Mafia was already well underway.

‘That was the main building, right?’

Ping, ping!

Crash!

Gunfire cracked the windshield.

Bullets slammed one after another into the body and hood, but I paid them no mind and pressed the accelerator harder.

VROOOOM!

Before long, the stately old winery building rapidly filled my vision.

CRAAASH!

The car smashed halfway through the winery's outer wall.

“Hup!”

Tumble, tumble, tumble, tumble.

Since I'd been driving without a seat belt, my body shot through the windshield and rolled across the first-floor living room.

A successful infiltration.

“Hah!”

“M-Mamma mia....”

Forget the car that had just crashed into the middle of the winery's living room. One Mafia member stared at me in disbelief, apparently more shocked by the fact that I'd rolled across the floor and gotten up as if nothing had happened.

He had apparently been making a stand inside the building, because he'd been busy aiming a machine gun outside.

Anyway.

“As expected. It didn't blow.”

I'd already accumulated plenty of data from actual field experience.

I knew very well that simply ramming the car into something wasn't enough to make the gas cylinders in the back go off on cue.

Click, clink!

So I pulled a grenade from my coat, primed it, and tossed it into the car.

“Oh.”

There happened to be a staircase leading from the living room down to the basement, so I quickly headed that way.

By the time my silent count passed five.

BOOOOOOM!

The blast and flames from the exploding gas cylinders surged against my back.

Crack, clatter.

At the same time, fragments of the winery's splitting ceiling came raining down over my head.

“Wine cellar?”

Brushing the debris from my hair as I headed downstairs, I found exactly what I'd expected.

There were oak barrels filled with wine, bottles of the winery's own vintage, and rows upon rows of glass bottles filled with rectified spirits strong enough to border on industrial-grade alcohol.

“What's that?”

Then my eyes suddenly settled on one corner of the cellar.

A large solid-wood bookcase stood there, completely out of place in an underground room reeking of alcohol.

My feet naturally carried me toward it.

‘That belongs in a study.’

When I reached the bookcase and looked more closely, I saw that everything crammed onto its shelves wasn't books at all, but file binders they'd put together themselves.

I pulled one out and skimmed through it, only to let out a disbelieving laugh at what I found.

[Creditor: Avinante Financial]

[Debtor: Antonio Luce (Business Name: Trattoria Luce)]

[Loan Principal: €50,000]

[Interest Rate: 15% per month (180% annually)]

[Late Payment Penalty: In the event of delayed interest payment, an additional 2% of the principal per day of delay shall be compounded and charged]

[...]

Every binder contained contracts and debt claims the Avinante Family had obtained by lending money to merchants throughout Naples.

The murderous interest rates were one thing.

[Declared Missing]

[Bankruptcy Proceedings Underway]

[Surviving Family Declined Debt Inheritance]

[Collateral Acquisition Complete]

[Contract Closed]

[...]

Beneath them were records showing that they'd kidnapped or murdered the borrowers, deliberately making it impossible for them to repay the principal.

Just how many people's hatred had they fed on to fill a bookcase this large?

“Ugh. Been a while since I wanted a drink this badly.”

It was enough to make me sick, so I grabbed one of the nearby bottles of rectified spirits.

Gulp, gulp.

I tipped it back, took a rough swig, and wet my throat.

Crash!

Then I hurled the rest, bottle and all, against the bookcase.

Smash!

After repeating that a few times, the papers, binders, and the entire bookcase were soaked through with alcohol.

Click.

I pulled out the Micro Uzi that had been resting inside my coat.

“Go back where you came from.”

Brrrrrrrrt!

The burst rasped through the air as bright flames spat from the muzzle.

I'd barely squeezed and released the trigger, yet the twenty-round magazine emptied in an instant.

And thanks to that.

Fwoooosh!

The muzzle flash caught the alcohol, and in the blink of an eye, flames engulfed the entire bookcase.

Gulp, gulp.

“Pwah!”

I uncorked another bottle of rectified spirits beside me and poured it into my mouth as I stared at the scene.

“W-Who the hell are you!”

“N-No! Put it out! Hurry!”

The Mafia members who had barely managed to make it down from the ruined first floor spotted me and immediately opened fire with their rifles.

Bang! Ratatat!

Ignoring the bullets flying toward me, I threw the bottle of rectified spirits in my hand at them.

Crash!

Fwoosh!

“Aaaaaaargh! F-Fire!”

“S-Somebody save meee!”

The men, now engulfed in flames, thrashed around and managed to shove over the racks full of rectified spirits themselves.

Crash, smash!

Fwoooooosh!

The shelves came crashing down, spreading the flames even farther in every direction.

“Aaaaaaargh!”

“Guh, ghhh....”

I casually dropped the empty Micro Uzi onto the floor. I didn't even have a spare magazine for it.

Then I leisurely headed out of the basement.

Rrrrrrrrrumble.

‘Is this place coming down?’

Perhaps from the aftereffects of the explosion I'd caused, cement dust poured from the basement ceiling as an ominous tremor ran through the structure.

I weaved around the gradually collapsing debris and headed for the emergency stairs leading outside.

Bang!

“Hah!”

I kicked the dented emergency exit open and stepped outside, where the acrid smell of gunpowder greeted me first.

Once I emerged from the winery, which barely even resembled a building anymore, the gunfight outside was still raging.

Bang! Bang!

Ratatatatat!

“Kill them! Don't leave a single one alive!”

“You bastards! Where's Pak Mun-ju!”

The North Korean agents and Mafia members were still desperately pouring bullets into one another.

While they were completely absorbed in killing each other, I leisurely looked around from between the long rows of grapevines.

Bang, bang!

Ratatatat!

Then.

A glint.

‘Over there?’

I spotted something flashing from the rooftop of a building in the distance.

It was probably Maximilien's scope.

Feeling as though our eyes had met, I gave him a casual wave.

At that moment.

Fweeeesh!

“Oh.”

“Ghk!”

A bullet whipped past, followed by a scream behind me.

BAAANG.

A beat later, the report of Maximilien's sniper rifle reached me from the distance.

“Sniper!”

“Protect the boss!”

The vineyard had a main building and an annex.

From the basement of the relatively intact annex, rather than the main building I'd rammed the car into, more than a dozen Mafia members came pouring out.

Judging by the tight protective formation around someone in the middle, the boss we were looking for, Alessandro, was obviously among them.

‘Let's see.’

I casually slipped in among the North Korean agents who were taking cover behind a van and enthusiastically trading fire.

They were so fixated on the main building that had just been blown apart that they hadn't even noticed the annex beyond it.

Ahem. I cleared my throat once.

“Th-There! That bastard Pak Mun-ju is getting away!”

The moment I shouted, one of the nearby North Korean agents rushed over.

I didn't know who he was, but he appeared to be in charge of the inspection team.

“What? Where!”

“I saw him with my own eyes crawling into that car!”

Conveniently, we both watched the Mafia members frantically start their vehicles and stomp on the accelerators.

“Damn it! All of you, after him!”

“Section Chief Comrade! What about the remaining personnel?”

“Leave them! Do you know how many necks are on the line here!”

At the section chief's orders, the inspection team agents muttered among themselves as they piled into the van.

I calmly joined them and slid into the driver's seat as if I belonged there.

“Why aren't you stepping on it! Move!”

“We are moving out!”

“Ugh, the stink of alcohol! Who the hell drank before going into an operation!”

“....”

Vroooom!

The chase was on.

The van, packed with men snorting with rage, tore across the vineyard with its engine roaring.

As we gradually closed the distance with the Mafia vehicles ahead, one of the agents in the back yanked the van's sliding door open.

“Get us right alongside them!”

Following his order, I cut across the rows of grapevines and steadily closed the gap.

Before long, one of the Mafia cars was right beside us.

The instant the distance narrowed enough, the North Korean agents pulled out their guns without a moment's hesitation.

“Open fire!”

“Fire!”

Ratatatatat!

A rolling gunfight in the middle of a vineyard.

My heart was practically pounding out of my chest as I watched the whole thing through the rearview mirror.

“Aaaaaaargh!”

“Mamma mia!”

One of the Mafia cars caught in the barrage lurched wildly and dropped away behind us.

The moment it fell back, their main group came into view.

A Maserati sedan was racing at the front.

Several Fiat sedans followed closely behind it.

At a glance, that Maserati leading the convoy had to be the boss's car.

“There! I just saw Pak Mun-ju's face!”

“Where! Where the hell is he!”

“In the expensive-looking car at the very front!”

The moment I shouted, the inspection team's section chief in the passenger seat stuck his head halfway out through the wide-open window.

“Quickly, increase speed!”

I floored the accelerator, and just as we drew close enough to the Maserati to practically touch it.

“...Pak Mun-ju isn't in there?”

I couldn't have cared less about the inspection team section chief muttering blankly beside me.

Whip!

“Huh?”

At that moment, I yanked the steering wheel hard.

Like a guided missile, the van slewed sideways and buried its nose in the Maserati's flank.

CRAAASH!

“Aaaaaaargh!”

“You bastard!”

The van went tumbling through the vineyard.

The Maserati beside us got showered in dirt along with it.

SCREEECH, THUD!

Once the van finally stopped rolling, everyone inside simply blinked in a daze.

“Fuckin' hell.... Just how the hell do you even drive....”

Before he could finish that thought, I beat him to it.

“It's Pak Mun-ju! Pak Mun-ju is right there!”

“W-Where!”

“Where the hell is he!”

The North Korean agents, finally snapping back to their senses at my shout, hurriedly grabbed their guns and crawled out of the van.

Pak Mun-ju has appeared.

It truly was a magical phrase.

*****

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