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Crunch.
The frame splintered in Beomjin’s grip.
“Hey. Get up.”
He kicked Gyeonseok’s hip. Scowling, the man stood, and Beomjin shoved the photo in his face.
“What now?”
“Check the faces. Do you know anyone here?”
“No. Already looked. Nobody.”
Gyeonseok swiped the picture aside with irritation.
“I do.”
“What? You know someone here? Then you’re like me—?”
“No. It’s just…”
Images of Gwak Guho flashed across his mind—the way he’d rolled on the ground, pretending to be nothing but a brute. All along, he’d known everything and played dumb. When Beomjin had been bullying Ji-yu for answers, how ridiculous must he have looked? It should’ve been Guho he dragged out, not her.
The more he thought about it, the more his teeth ground together.
Without another word, Beomjin stormed out, each pounding step packed with fury. He cut straight across the warehouse, jumped into his car, and started the engine. The passenger door opened—Gyeonseok slipped inside like it was his seat.
“What, you planning to tag along?”
“We’re both looking for my girlfriend, aren’t we?”
…Yeah.
Beomjin mouthed the answer without sound and drove off, heading back toward the welfare center.
The ride was silent. No music, just breath and the engine’s low growl. Both men fixed on the shrinking distance on the GPS. When the display ticked down to three kilometers, Beomjin’s nose twitched like a rat’s.
“…I smell something burning.”
Gyeonseok didn’t answer. Whether because it wasn’t his car or because he was confident he could bail if things went wrong, he simply stared out the window. Then, almost in unison, they spoke.
“There.”
“Fire.”
A column of ashen smoke climbed the sky in the distance—thick, furious.
Beomjin’s gut clenched. He knew exactly what was happening at their destination. He floored the gas, hard enough to fling Gyeonseok back into his seat. Catching his look, Beomjin muttered, almost to himself:
“We’re already too late. We need to hurry.”
Flames clawed at the sky, heat so intense that nearby buildings seemed to ripple like mirages.
Beomjin didn’t have to wonder who set it. Gwak Guho. As if he’d predicted Beomjin’s return, the gorilla-blooded bastard had torched everything and fled.
Within the dancing inferno, the welfare center collapsed in on itself. Onlookers crowded the area—filming with phones, dragging flammables away—but the real horror wasn’t the blaze.
In the open lot stood Ji-yu. Or what was left of her.
One side of her head was caved in, her body skewered on rebar, drenched in blood. The gruesome sight made even Beomjin and Gyeonseok grimace.
“That fucking gorilla.”
Around her lay others—Beast-Blooded who had jeered at Beomjin and cheered for Guho. Now reduced to corpses.
Beomjin waded into the mess, dragging survivors out. Gyeonseok joined him, and even some who’d been paralyzed with fear stepped up.
Among the victims was the fifty-year-old woman and the red-faced man. The woman was gone. The man still breathed—barely, each breath thinner than thread.
“Hey! Stay with me!”
Beomjin shook him with brutal force. His clothes were shredded, his body bruised and bleeding. For a moment he seemed like a corpse—then one eye cracked open. He recognized Beomjin.
“…Why…? The boss…?”
Useless question. The only thing Beomjin could do was pry answers while there was still time.
“Your boss—the gorilla. Where’d he go? Answer me!”
The man’s eyes closed. He drew a rattling breath. Beomjin leaned in, desperate. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and finally, words scraped out.
“Back… reservoir… road. Behind… reservoir…”
Beomjin strained to catch every syllable, but it was muddled. Gyeonseok’s face showed the same frustration.
“Reservoir? You mean he went behind the reservoir?”
The man’s eyes blazed with final effort. His trembling hand gripped Beomjin’s arm, then went limp. His gaze dulled, his head lolling.
“…So he went behind the reservoir? Or next to it? Damn it, there are two near here. Which one did he mean?”
Beomjin checked the map. Two reservoirs: Majun Reservoir and Dwitbangul Reservoir. The dying man’s “behind reservoir” had to mean Dwitbangul. The side road there was the only logical path.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. The fire raged on, the center’s bones exposed. Ji-yu’s ruined body slumped further with the heat.
“Samjokgu!”
Beomjin shouted. Gyeonseok snapped from his search, and they both bolted back into the car.
Every sense sharpened as they drove. Windows down, Beomjin sniffed for even the faintest trace. The reservoir drew closer. Buildings—restaurants, parking lots—lined the road, but behind them stretched a dirt trail leading into the hills.
There. His nose screamed it: Guho’s scent. Beomjin veered sharply onto the path, tires grinding on unpaved ground.
Beside him, Gyeonseok unbuckled, breathing steady, coiled like a beast about to be unleashed.
They rounded a curve—just as a car barreled down the opposite side. Beomjin grinned. In the passenger seat, clear as day, sat Gwak Guho.
Their eyes met.
Guho barked something at his driver. Beomjin glanced at Gyeonseok, who had already undone his belt. He floored the gas.
“Time to get off.”
One line was enough. Gyeonseok grabbed the handle. The car roared forward.
As distance collapsed, he flung the door open and hurled himself out. In the same heartbeat, Beomjin twisted the wheel. Tires screamed, dirt exploded, and the car spun into a deadly arc.
Through the windshield, he saw Guho’s wide-eyed face contort into a scream.
Crash!
Steel crumpled, glass shattered. The airbag swallowed Beomjin whole. He clenched every muscle and endured. The cars locked together, skidding, flipping, gouging the earth before grinding to a halt.
Dust cloaked the road like smog. Branches snapped, stones flew, metal hissed.
Beomjin staggered out, head ringing, chest heaving. He braced against the wreck, shaking off the dizziness.
“You’re insane,” Gyeonseok said, brushing dirt from his jacket, a bitter grin splitting his face.
“Didn’t think you’d go that far.”
Beomjin only checked the wreck.
“Anyone crawl out?”
“No. Not yet.”
“They wouldn’t die that easily.”
Bang! The driver’s-side door rocketed off. Out staggered Guho, clutching his neck, spitting blood and teeth.
“You… you lunatic government dog! Were you trying to kill me?!”
The childish whine, the stupid expression—he still looked like the same bumbling fool.
“This is him?”
Gyeonseok muttered, unimpressed.
But before they could speak further, a cloud of Beast-Blooded surged up the road—Guho’s men.
Beomjin’s jaw tightened.
“Enough games. Tell me—where is the fox?”
Guho blinked innocently.
“Fox? She already left, didn’t she?”
“…I saw everything at the center. Don’t play dumb.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His lips twitched into a smile.
“Why kill her?
Beomjin roared.
“Burn the place if you wanted, but why slaughter everyone?!”
Guho bowed his head. The crowd of Beast-Blooded rallied behind him. Gone was the clueless buffoon; when he lifted his face, his eyes were sharp, his smile thin and cruel.
“…Why? Because that stupid girl spilled everything. Blew the whole plan. And for what? A bit of aegidol? That’s a price you pay.”
He laughed, shoulders shaking. His features hardened—leaner, darker, predatory.
“How was it? Convincing? Lying on the floor like an idiot? Should’ve won an award for it.”
Beomjin’s teeth ground. He’d underestimated him.
“Should’ve killed you back then. That’s on me.”
“HAHAHA! Entertaining as hell!”
The bastard’s laughter grated like nails.
“You won’t laugh again.”
Beomjin shrugged off his jacket, eyes blazing.
“One more thing. Where’s the fox?”
Gyeonseok’s head snapped toward him, breath caught. Every muscle tensed.
“Oh, her? Sold off for aegidol. If you hadn’t stirred this shit, she’d already be gutted by now.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Gyeonseok lunged. Beomjin reached out, but too late—he was already on Guho, arm swinging in a brutal arc.
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