Chapter 75: Professional

TL: LittlePeach

One driver and two kidnappers.

One of them tapped my forehead with the revolver in his hand, threatening me.

"You're a Korean, aren't you? We know you understand us fine, so raise your hands this instant."

"Try anything and we'll put a hole in your noggin. Do as you're told."

I knew the gun was empty, but I threw both hands up beside my ears all the same.

The men let out a scoff, as if dumbfounded by how obediently I followed their order.

"Heh heh heh. Would you look at this damned bastard, big as he is and no spine to show for it."

"Heh. Scared so stiff he's about to wet himself."

"Fuck.... You piss in this car and you'll really croak, I swear!"

Judging by their skill at instilling fear with the gun leveled and their browbeating tone, this was clearly not their first abduction, nor their second.

Amateur kidnappers who had, in their own way, cut their teeth on snatching tourists.

'Let's see how far they take this for now.'

Simple kidnapping and robbery, organ trafficking, or a plan to sell me off as a slave somewhere.

I still didn't know exactly what use they'd abducted me for.

But there might be other victims besides me who'd already been taken, so my plan was to let myself be dragged along quietly for the time being.

Given the nature of a kidnapping operation, the bastards had to have a hideout somewhere.

"Shut your mouth and sit still. Resist even a little and we'll blow your head clean off."

"...."

The bastards drew my hands together in front of me and started binding them tight with a thick cable tie.

Not military or police issue, but the thickest industrial cable tie you could get at an ordinary store.

After cinching my wrists tight, they jammed a pitch-black hood down over my head.

They yanked the hood's drawstring to choke it snug around my neck, then shoved me into the corner of the back seat.

Thud!

"Don't you go whimpering over there. One breath too loud and you're dead."

"...."

Had my going along so meekly made them careless?

There was no separate body search.

Maybe it was the limit of amateurs.

'Pretty sloppy. These aren't guys who learned this professionally.'

Thanks to that, I hunched up as if terrified and settled comfortably into my seat.

In place of my vision, blocked by the hood, I sharpened my remaining senses one by one.

About ten minutes later, the car finally came to a stop somewhere.

Rrrattle!

Came the sound of the car door opening.

"Shut it and get out, now!"

The bastards grabbed me by the collar and hauled hard.

"Ngh!"

Pretending my legs had given out, I flung my body out through the open van door.

Flump!

"Nnghh...."

At my inspired method acting, the bastards scoffed as if exasperated.

"This mutt's all size and nothing else.... Hey, grab him."

"Ugh, this damn bastard."

They jammed their hands under the armpits of my bound arms and started dragging me off somewhere.

Fluorescent light leaking in through the gaps in the hood, a long corridor, the occasional noise and commotion.

From the layout, it seemed to be some kind of studio-apartment block.

Clank, clank!

Along with the sound of an iron door opening in front of me, the bastards, hood still on, shoved me roughly into a room.

"Get inside!"

"Ngh!"

Crash-bang!

As I tumbled loudly across the floor, the heavy iron door slammed shut behind me.

Clank, click!

The bastards locked it with a padlock from outside.

"Keep your trap shut and stay crumpled up in there."

"We hear any whispering from inside and you'll croak!"

With that vicious warning, their footsteps gradually faded.

Holding my breath, I leaned my back gently against the iron door.

"We've filled the quota for once, so let's go grab a bite quickly."

"There's a new pizza place out front that just opened. Word is if you just ask, they'll put weed on as a topping."

"What? Fucking bastard, then we've got to go right now!"

The bastards' voices murmured on, receding beyond the door.

Once even the footsteps vanished entirely and it fell quiet, I whipped off the hood without a moment's more hesitation.

"Phew."

Looking around, there were two others already in the room.

"Sob, hic...."

"...."

Both of them had their wrists bound with thick cable ties, huddled miserably in the corner of the room.

Still hooded, one of them sniffled and wept.

I'd expected more people than this; they must sell them off somewhere the moment they're caught.

"Heave."

First I raised my wrists, firmly fixed by the cable tie, and pulled them toward my chest.

They were designed so that the harder they were yanked, the more the teeth locked in and bit painfully into the wrists, but.

"Nngh, hah."

Crrrack!

That, at least, didn't apply to me.

Twisting my arms in opposite directions and yanking with all my strength, the cable tie, unable to bear the pressure any longer, burst apart in every direction.

The instant I was fully free of the restraint, I got to my feet and wandered slowly around the room.

'Let's see....'

It was a private prison made by converting an entire ordinary studio apartment.

The inner door handle had been removed entirely so the door could only be opened and shut from outside, and iron bars were fixed firmly in place, so there was no escaping out the window either.

There wasn't so much as a surveillance camera in sight, never mind a guard.

"...."

"...."

At the sound of my footsteps moving about so nonchalantly, the other two held their breath, tense.

I approached them and whispered very quietly.

"From here on we'll keep the conversation to English. If you understand, just nod."

Nod, nod.

Fortunately, they were people I could communicate with in English.

"I can't disclose my identity precisely, but I'm a secret agent with a foreign intelligence agency. I'm going to free you from your bindings now, so stay still."

When I first stripped off the hoods wrapped around their heads, two faces soaked through with sweat were revealed.

One was an Asian man like me, the other a blond Westerner.

"...."

"...."

The Asian man, his tears stopped, stared at me with wide, round eyes.

The Westerner, on the other hand, studied me intently with a tense expression.

Click.

When I drew out the pocketknife I'd hidden between my thighs, both men flinched and shrank back.

"Shh."

I raised my index finger to my lips, then sliced through both men's cable ties.

Snip.

"This way."

First I led them to the far inner corner of the room.

Busily rubbing their whitened wrists, the two men obediently followed my instructions.

"How many days have you been locked up here?"

"I, I was this morning...."

"Two hours ago."

"You two don't know each other, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Not at all."

The two men must have been caught at different times.

I nodded and offered my next question.

"Do either of you happen to know how many of those kidnappers there are?"

"That I'm not sure...."

"Three."

The Westerner cut in with a firm tone in answer to my question.

Glancing over, I saw he wore a cautious expression, not at all like an abductee's.

"One driver, two kidnappers, that's all."

"Is that so? For you to be so certain, there were quite a few people moving around outside."

"This building isn't owned by any single organization. It's a crime compound leased out to dozens of local gangs, each with its own separate purpose. In the local term, they call it a wenchi."

I looked at him with a flat stare.

The man's explanation, showing an understanding of the situation deeper than it had any need to be, was highly suspicious.

Under my silent pressure, the man sighed and scratched his chin.

"I'm not entirely sure how things ended up like this, but I too am a secret agent who came in to infiltrate this crime compound."

"Hmm."

No way.

To think there was someone thinking exactly the same thing as me.

I felt a fresh surge of gladness.

"Did you infiltrate this building directly to investigate it?"

"This crime compound isn't my final objective. Most of the kidnappers around here are abducting innocent people and selling them off to the nearby Mango Farm. My plan was to enter that Mango Farm under the guise of an abductee and infiltrate it, but.... in the end it fell through, like this."

"The Mango Farm?"

There weren't many Mango Farms in Sihanoukville.

So there was a high chance the man was targeting the very same Mango Farm as us.

At the strange coincidence, I too scratched my cheek.

"Is the Mango Farm you're talking about, by any chance, a place that doubles as a drug factory?"

"Hmm? How do you know that?"

"We were investigating drug organizations inside Cambodia as well. And this Mango Farm was our next target."

"Then.... were you also abducted as a cover to infiltrate the Mango Farm?"

"No. I wasn't specifically targeting the Mango Farm; I got myself caught on purpose to check just what these kidnapper bastards were up to."

"Hmm."

At that, the man's expression turned slightly sour.

In this line of work, there's no such thing as coincidence.

He was doubting whether I was really a secret agent with a foreign intelligence agency, was the thing.

Before bothering to clear up the needless misunderstanding, I shrugged.

"Let's focus on the kidnappers for now. When they come back from their meal soon, how about we ambush them and dig out some information?"

"Good idea."

Now that the two of us had, one way or another, come to an understanding.

Glance.

"And you?"

With things at this point, I suddenly grew curious about the other man's identity.

Perhaps thinking the same thing, the two of us glanced over at the remaining Asian man at the same time.

"I, I'm just a tourist here on vacation?"

"Hm."

"Hmm."

What a shame.

Anyway, we couldn't very well let slip any more of our information in front of a civilian who knew nothing.

"Getting this civilian here out to safety should be the priority, I think. We'll knock the bastards out and subdue them, then make our next call."

"Agreed. But the bastards have a gun."

"I checked earlier; there was no round in the chamber."

"...You saw that with your naked eye?"

"I could see it fine."

"...."

"If you're worried about getting shot, just leave both of them to me. Subduing people is something I'm confident about."

"Understood. But it is absolutely not because I'm afraid."

"Of course, of course."

While we carried on our grim discussion, the Asian man quietly eavesdropping beside us went pale in the face.

By the time enough had passed for a meal to be quickly polished off.

Clank.

"Huh? What the. These damned bastards, where'd they all go?"

"Huddled in the corner crying, probably."

Came the sound of the locked door opening.

The moment one of the two kidnappers' footsteps came striding in.

Thwack!

"Gurk?"

The instant the bastard showed his face, I threw out my fist and snapped his jaw clean around.

At the sight of his comrade collapsing as his legs gave out, the guy holding and guarding the iron door flinched in alarm.

"You son of a, shit!"

As he hurriedly tried to shut the door, I immediately thrust my hand out and wedged it into the gap.

Crunch!

The door slammed shut with force enough to crush my finger joints.

But paying it no mind, I swung my shoulder and heaved the door open.

Bang!

"Gaah!"

The guy, having smashed his nose on the wide-flung door, screamed in pain.

I grabbed the collar of the bastard clutching his nose with his eyes squeezed shut and hauled him into the room.

Thwack!

"Ngh?"

Then I gave his jaw the same treatment, and he naturally sprawled flat on the floor just like his comrade.

It was over in an instant.

"Ooh...."

A dumbstruck exclamation came from behind me.

I could see the Asian man wondering whether he ought to applaud.

Subduing the two of them had gone that smoothly, without a hitch.

Cutting off consciousness with a strike to the jaw ranked as a fairly high-difficulty technique among ways to subdue a person, and there was no other reason the Westerner scoffed in astonishment.

"Impressive."

"Thanks. There are some spare cable ties over there; shall we tie them up with those? Gag their mouths with cloth, put hoods over their faces too."

"Good idea."

After shutting the half-open door again, we deftly set to work binding them.

Wrenching the kidnapper bastards' wrists and ankles behind their backs and tying them fast, we first went through their belongings.

Clunk, thunk.

A single revolver rolled out of a pocket.

The Westerner, quickly checking the chamber, clicked his tongue in amazement.

"There really is no ammunition."

"That's what I told you."

Out tumbled cell phones, a pocketknife, a wallet, a baggie of powder presumed to be drugs, cannabis rolled up like cigarettes, and so on.

The search of their belongings was over in a flash.

And so there they were, the two kidnappers stripped bare and limp as gutted fish.

For some reason, I felt a swell of satisfaction.

'Rewarding work.'

Yes, this is what a professional's handiwork looks like.

*****

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