God of Blackfield

It would be foolish for Xairo to draw the gun at his waist right now. Sitting down with his hands on the table, he was at a hundred times the disadvantage of his opponent, who was on his feet.

‘Kang Chan…!’

More importantly, the man coming at him was Kang Chan—an Asian powerful enough to make him feel more terrified than he could ever imagine.

If only Parthal could fight!

The fool probably didn’t have a single pistol with him since Xairo was with him. He was so used to having others back him up that he likely didn’t even see this coming.

Xairo locked eyes with Kang Chan as the latter approached from two tables away, striding without any hesitation despite not having drawn his pistol either.

He was slender and unusually tall for an Asian. Most terrifying of all was the way he looked at Xairo.

Xairo saw the corners of Kang Chan’s mouth curve up.

‘That’s it!’

Kang Chan tilted his head to avoid it.

Whoosh!

Xairo grabbed the knife next to the plate and lunged forward.

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

In a split second, they traded such quick blows that they weren’t visible anymore. Amid the flurry of attacks, Kang Chan jabbed Xairo’s raised knee with his elbow.

Swish!

Afterward, he aimed for Xairo’s throat with his second knuckles.

Whoosh!

Their hands collided twice.

Pow! Pow!

Kang Chan’s elbow smashed into Xairo’s jaw, and Xairo’s fist hit Kang Chan’s chest, causing blood to seep from it. Right after, Xairo jabbed Kang Chan’s eyes.

Pow! Pow pow!

Seeing the owner of the cafe pick up the phone, Parthal shook his head at him and moved to the entrance. Seeing the blood on Kang Chan’s chest and watching Xairo triumphantly stab Kang Chan in the eyes made Parthal confident.

Of course! Everyone in Garnich knows Xairo doesn’t take any losses!

Pow! Pow pow pow!

Within the next moment, Xairo relentlessly slashed Kang Chan’s left chest while also aiming for his eyes with his pointed index and middle fingers.

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Amid the ceaseless collision of fists and elbows, Kang Chan was once again punched in the chest.

Pow! Pow!

In response, he elbowed Xairo’s jaw in quick succession.

Clang! Crash! Clang!

Xairo fell back onto a table, knocking over chairs, plates, and glasses across the floor.

If it was any other man, this would’ve marked the end of the fight.

If only it wasn’t the pain in my chest!

Kang Chan didn’t even get the chance to lunge forward.

Swish!

Xairo threw the checkered tablecloth at Kang Chan’s head, then launched himself at him.

Crash! Bang! Bang! Pow! Pow! Pow!

Entangled, they knocked over two more tables before hitting the wall of the cafe.

They barely managed to regain their footing. With Kang Chan’s chest covered in blood, at first glance, it would seem that Xairo was close to winning the fight.

Whoosh!

However, Kang Chan kept hitting Xairo’s jaw with his elbow, and Xairo kept punching Kang Chan in the chest.

Pow pow pow! Pow!

More blows were exchanged as they moved away from the wall.

Whoosh! Pow!

As Kang Chan’s elbow smashed into Xairo’s jaw, Xairo punched Kang Chan in the chest with eerie force.

Pow pow pow! Pow!

After another collision between fists and elbows, they again targeted each other’s chin and chest.

Their willpower and determination to take the other down brought forth this rare sight. Their opponent was too strong to emerge victorious without sacrificing something.

Xairo was covered in blood from his nose and mouth, while Kang Chan had blood all over his chest.

Gritting his teeth, Xairo threw another punch. At the same time, Kang Chan swung his elbow with a venomous glare.

Pow! Crack!

They both got what they wanted.

Pow! Pow! Pow! Crack!

They traded elbows and punches again, repeating the same motion so many times that they almost looked idiotic.

Kang Chan couldn’t breathe because of the pain. He chewed on his cheek to steady his fading consciousness.

Every time Xairo’s fist slammed into his left chest, he felt like long needles were piercing through his veins. He had never met a special forces soldier who seemed as strong as Kang Chul-Gyu.

This must be how it feels to have that old man as an enemy.

Pow! Crack!

He punched Xairo’s jaw again and took another to his chest.

He had to breathe. He needed to hear him breathing.

At that moment, he heard Kang Chul-Gyu’s voice and saw him smirking.

‘You’d let that man defeat you?’

What the hell is that old man saying?

Haah. Haah.

Kang Chan caught a glimpse of Xairo’s crushed nose and mouth. His nose had been twisted into a bloody mess. Right after, he saw Xairo throw another punch.

You son of a bitch!

Thwack!

Kang Chan swatted the punch away like a fly.

You’re nothing compared to that old man!

A moment of panic flashed across Xairo’s eyes.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Kang Chan elbowed him repeatedly in the nose.

Crash! Crash! Clang! Bang!

Xairo fell to the floor along with a couple of tables. A heavy silence then filled the restaurant.

When Kang Chan turned to the owner of the cafe, who had picked up the phone, the latter backed away with his hands raised.

Kang Chan then looked at Parthal, his eyes still glinting fiercely.

Flinch!

What kind of pathetic bastard was Xairo meeting?

Rustle.

Just then, Xairo stirred from among the broken crockery and overturned chairs.

‘Huh?’

Kang Chan didn’t miss the brief moment when Xairo turned toward Parthal. His eyes were filled with regret for not being able to protect Parthal.

For now, Kang Chan had to prioritize immobilizing Xairo and getting out of the cafe.

Crack!

Kang Chan mercilessly kicked Xairo in the face.

Thud.

The bastard fell lifelessly to the floor.

“You!” Kang Chan growled at Parthal in French.

Parthal, who was looking at Kang Chan, flinched.

“Pick this asshole up.”

Parthal, who seemed to be in a trance, obediently approached Xairo.

Kang Chan looked at the cafe owner as if to warn him one last time. He found it ridiculous that he had to treat a civilian this way, though.

“Argh.”

Motherfucker!

The white-haired bastard was only sitting Xairo up, yet he sounded as if he was lifting the weight of the Earth.

Xairo’s face was covered in blood, making him look as if he was smeared with red paint.

Kang Chan grabbed Xairo’s left shoulder and arm, then pulled him to his feet.

‘Argh!’

Kang Chan grimaced as a shocking pain ripped right through his chest.

“Argh!”

However, his expression only made Parthal stick his shoulder under Xairo’s right shoulder and noisily exert even more strength.

Kang Chan and Parthal dragged Xairo out of the cafe.

***

The moment the elevator doors opened, Seok Kang-Ho blocked Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-hee with his left hand.

How could they be so fast?

Click, click, click!

Security guards with pistols, police in black body armor with machine guns, and uniformed cops.

The red laser crosshairs from the machine guns eerily illuminated the foreheads, necks, and hearts of the four men.

Choi Jong-Il and Woo Hee-Seung glanced at Seok Kang-Ho with their pistols lowered.

If they moved now, they’d be honeycombed from the bullets, and it would all be over.

“Don’t move!”

Fucking bastard! Nobody moved in the first place!

Seok Kang-Ho glared at the cops in front of him with glinting eyes.

What would Kang Chan have done if he was faced with this crisis?

“Drop your weapons!”

Seok Kang-Ho turned his head to Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, then Lee Doo-Hee.

“Drop your weapons!”

Click!

The nervous cop tightened his grip on his pistol.

What should I do? Should we go out with a bang since we’ve already accomplished our goal anyway?

At that moment, Seok Kang-Ho made eye contact with Choi Jong-Il. Seeing Choi Jong-Il’s fearless gaze, he cursed inwardly.

‘Son of a bitch! What am I thinking!’

If Kang Chan, who had flown to Libya in an F16 for his men, were to choose what to do in this situation, would he pull the trigger and let them die? Or would he tell his subordinates to live on?

“Drop the guns,” Seok Kang-Ho ordered.

Woo Hee-Seung and Lee Doo-Hee stared at Seok Kang-Ho in confusion, and Choi Jong-Il swallowed hard.

“Hurry up and drop your guns!” Seok Kang-Ho shouted.

Son of a bitch! Lower your weapons already!

“If we die here, they’ll know we’re Korean anyway. Let’s just say that the four of us are here to avenge the death of our captain rather than have our country take the fall.”

The three men gritted their teeth.

“The torture will be severe, and the outcome will be a public execution. We’ll probably only see each other then. Don’t forget. I convinced you to come on this operation to take revenge for our captain.”

Choi Jong-Il shook his head briefly. It would be too much for Seok Kang-Ho to carry alone.

“You don’t know Arabic, so just tell them that I prepared everything, from the weapons to the rest of it. If you give a half-assed answer, it’ll be worse.”

Seok Kang-Ho then turned around and slowly crouched to the ground.

Click.

He then set his gun down on the floor.

Click! Click! Click! Click!

The rifles and pistols in front of them turned to Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-Hee, seemingly hurrying them to set down their guns.

Grimacing, the three lowered their stances and dropped their pistols to the ground.

“Push your weapons forward!”

As ordered, Seok Kang-Ho pushed the pistol away with his foot. The others did as well.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

An officer wearing body armor charged forward.

Seok Kang-Ho saw a man on the third-floor ledge across the street filming the scene on his phone.

“Allahu Akbar[1]!”

Pow! Pow! Pow!

The rifle’s buttstock was aimed at Seok Kang-Ho’s face and chest.

“Allahu Akbar!”

The three men didn’t know why, but there must have been a reason Seok Kang-Ho shouted those foreign words in his final moments.

Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-Hee shouted words they didn’t even understand as they were beaten in the face, chest, and neck.

Pow! Pow! Pow!

The horrific beating continued as their hands were tied behind their backs and their mouths were gagged.

Afterward, the four bloodied men were dragged out of the hotel like dogs.

***

Crumpling Xairo into the second-row seat of the van, Kang Chan slid Parthal in next to him and closed the door.

Vroooom!

Gérard quickly jerked the van into high gear.

It was a dark evening. The only silver lining was that the roads were not lined with CCTV cameras like in Korea.

As they drove along the stony road, Kang Chan felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Clunk! Clunk!

Gérard turned off the road and onto a quiet country lane.

A large tree loomed over the van like a one-armed monster amid the European grasses, its branches hanging down to stare at the van.

Parthal flinched as Kang Chan turned his eyes away.

‘Is this guy a bit dull?’ Kang Chan wondered. The man’s white hair and gaze didn’t seem normal.

Clunk! Clunk!

The van veered off the tolerable country road and onto a path that couldn’t even be called a road.

Creak.

As Kang Chan looked around, Gérard got out and came back around to the back door.

“I’ll go take a look just to be safe.”

Kang Chan nodded. Gérard then headed toward a wooden shed. It looked like an abandoned country house at first glance—the kind of place one would store a bale of hay or tools.

Crank!

Gérard opened the old door and stepped inside, then came back out.

“You can go in now.”

“Bring this bastard with you.”

Gérard grabbed Xairo’s upper body from behind and pulled.

Rustle.

A hard kick to the face like earlier would put Xairo in a drunk-like stupor.

Kang Chan watched Parthal as Gérard dragged the staggering Xairo to the warehouse.

Parthal was trying to look relaxed, but he ended up looking quite pathetic instead.

“Go on in.”

Parthal awkwardly entered the warehouse.

Creak. Clunk.

Kang Chan closed the door and looked around.

It looked just like any other warehouse. It was covered in dust and had a pitchfork and hay bundled in squares. Its second floor was lined with a railing.

Riip! Rip! Rip!

Gérard sat Xairo against a pole and wrapped him up with the tape he had brought.

They hadn’t told him to, but Parthal obediently stood meekly beside Xairo.

Gérard dusted off a dusty chair and brought it to Kang Chan.

‘Argh.’

As he sat down, pain shot up once more from the chest area where he’d been hit earlier. He could also taste fresh blood on the inside of his cheek, which he had bitten.

Kang Chan turned to the white-haired man.

“What’s your name?”

“Parthal, sir.”

This is the bastard that Xairo looked at with pity earlier.

Was I tricked by him?

“What was your mission?”

At that moment, Xairo, finally coming back to his senses, gave Parthal a pitying, frustrated glance.

“Don’t tell him!” he yelled through a mouth full of blood.

“Tape his mouth too.”

Gérard jumped to his feet and wrapped Xairo’s mouth with tape.

Gérard and Xairo’s eyes met, but Gérard had shaken off some of the timidness from earlier. The blood that had stained Kang Chan’s chest seemed enough to make him feel murderous.

“Give me a cigarette.’

Gérard dusted off his hands and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

Flick.

“Whew. I’ll ask you one more time. What do you do?”

Looking at Xairo, Parthal kept his mouth shut.

They couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Xairo, you remember the injection you sent?”

Receiving Kang Chan’s gaze, Gérard pulled out the evil-looking syringe from his inner pocket.

“I heard you become obedient after being injected with this. I was originally planning to use it on you, but I’ll test it out on him now.”

“Urrgh! Urrgh! Urgh!”

“You think that bastard will be able to escape from this place?” Kang Chan asked. He then nodded at Gérard, who walked toward Parthal with the syringe.

Amid his hesitation, Parthal drew back. However, Gérard punched him in the stomach, making him bend forward.

They were running out of time.

Gérard immediately injected the syringe into the nape of the toppled man’s neck.

Stab.

Thud.

The moment the man fell to the side, Xairo’s gaze also dropped. He looked like a man who had given up on everything.

Why would you attack us, huh?

1. الله أكبر, God is Great ☜