God of Blackfield

On Saturday, Kang Chan woke up at the crack of dawn and slowly began to warm up in front of the park at the apartment complex.

He still had faint traces of his previous injuries. They made him feel so heavy that it was as if they were trying to convince him to take a break. He had taken off the bandages on his left hand yesterday, however, making him feel at least a bit lighter.

He properly stretched his muscles, then started jogging outside the apartment complex, following his usual routine and path.

The clear autumn sky and cold air refreshed Kang Chan’s mind.

He had decided to do his best with what was within his control. Rather than letting incomprehensible events that were out of his control ruin his focus, he thought it would be far wiser to just maintain his best condition and keep his balance. No events should faze him.

“Haah. Haah.”

With each intensifying breath, the stagnant weight in his chest seemed to be dissipating little by little.

That damned Blackhead. Kang Chan died because of that diamond, but it was its very energy that brought him back to life.

He couldn’t help but wonder what could have happened if he remained in Africa. Considering his volatile temperament, getting promoted would’ve been a challenge.

He had already rested for a few days, but he still found it difficult to catch his breath.

Kang Chan recalled the newbie who had gone to Mongolia with them—the one who took a bandana and a beret.

Gérard had been left out of the operation due to his injury. However, based on the look in his eyes as he brought over their coffee, he had probably practiced and trained relentlessly since he returned to Africa.

“Whew. Hoo, hoo.”

It was ridiculous, but a few new recruits imitated Kang Chan’s attitude while training. Having remembered how he aimed his gun at some tiny noise in the mountains, they often proceeded to create rustling sounds with their mouths during training, aiming their own guns with a click.

There were other similar cases where they copied him.

Some of the recruits would practice smirking all day, and others would practice aiming their rifles as they ran. While it could look easy, quite a few soldiers fell and got hurt because they tried to steady their aim while running.

Stay alive. Cover yourself in your beret and bandana, and copy how I hold my bayonet in reverse if that’s what it would take for you to survive. 

“I did a good job, didn’t I?”

Don’t die like that idiot. Live. 

Just like Gérard, who would copy me every chance he got. 

Kang Chan could already see the apartment complex coming into view. He had run faster than normal thinking of Africa.

His back hurt so much that it felt as if it was going to snap, but it had never snapped before. He knew he would be perfectly fine.

Kang Chan focused on his breathing.

Run forward! If I stop here, I can’t prevent the deaths of the members I lead. 

“Haa! Haa! Haa! Haa!”

He ran into the complex, bent over in front of a bench with his hands on his knees, and let out loud puffs of air. It had been a while since he had gone on a run, so he had run as if his life was at stake.

Just then, Kang Chan sharply raised his gaze at an approaching presence.

“Would you like some water?”

Kang Chan’s gaze traveled up the hand holding out a water bottle. He soon burst into laughter.

“You already got discharged?” Kang Chan asked.

Choi Jong-Il had a long bandage on his right cheek.

Explore the extended edition on pawread dot com.

“If it’s alright with you, can I join in on your run from now on?” Choi Jong-Il requested.

“Whew, that’s refreshing! Why suddenly join me, though?” Kang Chan asked curiously.

“I figured out what I’m lacking,” Choi Jong-Il responded seriously.

“Phuhuhu,” Kang Chan laughed, looking at Choi Jong-Il.

If Kang Chan ended up getting close to Choi Jong-Il like this, he would have yet another person to take care of, and he would have to make an effort again so this punk wouldn’t die. Although Kang Chan couldn’t express it, he couldn’t guarantee that he would forget Choi Jong-Il if the latter died.

‘Damn it.’

So why would you give me a water bottle? It’s a bit small though.

“Feel free to tag along anytime,” Kang Chan said.

“Thank you.”

Choi Jong-Il seemed to have a change in attitude.

Kang Chan finished drinking the rest of the water and glanced back at him when Choi Jong-Il opened a different topic.

“One of my comrades from the 35th Brigade asked me to deliver a message to you.”

What was Choi Jong-Il talking about?

“I heard you watched until all our fallen soldiers descended from the plane. You even made France’s ambassador and the director of Russia’s intelligence agency wait until you were done, so my friend wanted me to pass on his sincere gratitude to you. Now that he knows there’s someone who treats the special forces so well, he can now die confidently in an operation knowing he’s in good hands…”

“Son of a bitch!” Kang Chan exclaimed.

The warmhearted sense of awe in Choi Jong-Il’s words was instantly shattered.

“If he has time to spout such useless nonsense, tell him he should train like a madman and be determined to come back alive no matter what it takes.”

When Kang Chan twisted the cap back on the empty water bottle, Choi Jong-Il held out his hand again.

“I have no need for men who die heroic deaths. Rather, they should focus on staying alive. I prefer soldiers who aggressively survive and stand before me with blazing eyes during the next operation,” Kang Chan declared.

“Understood.”

“What about Doo-Hee and Hee-Seung?” Kang Chan asked.

“They’re waiting for me in the car,” Choi Jong-Il replied.

Kang Chan glanced around the entrance of the complex.

“Why don’t we grab lunch together?”

“Do you have time?”

The two grinned at each other.

***

Yoo Hye-Sook greeted Kang Chan when he returned to their residence.

“Have you just finished working out?” she asked.

“Yes. Oh, I smell something good,” Kang Chan commented.

“I made some kimchi stew,” Yoo Hye-Sook explained.

“I’ll come back out after washing up.”

Kang Chan was more than grateful he was born again so he could experience the small joys of everyday life like these.

The three sat down at the dining table once Kang Chan came out of the shower.

“Are you going to work today, Father?” Kang Chan asked.

“I’m off today. Why do you ask?” Kang Dae-Kyung inquired, looking quite curious. He took a sip of a spoonful of the soup.

“I was thinking we could all go have lunch with the agents who protect you both.”

“Would that be alright?”

“You already know there are guards on you. It’s not something to hide, anyway, so it’s perfectly fine.”

Kang Dae-Kyung looked at Yoo Hye-Sook, but she didn’t seem to have any qualms about the idea either.

After breakfast, Kang Chan took a tie pin and a tack-shaped transmitter from his room.

“Father, if you go around wearing this, I’ll be able to track your location immediately regardless of where you are. This one’s yours, Mother. You can stick it to your bag. But if you pull it out, it will deactivate, so please put it in a bag you always carry around.”

Kang Dae-Kyung and Yoo Hye-Sook’s expressions were a mix of both fascination and concern.

“I know it could be uncomfortable, but I’ll make sure nothing about your private lives is leaked. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

“You punk!” Kang Dae-Kyung replied exaggeratedly with a joking smile. “Alright. Nothing I can’t do for my son who’s trying to protect me. Do I have to turn a switch on or anything?”

“Yes, Father,” Kang Chan replied.

Kang Dae-Kyung turned the pin around in his hand as he examined it with interest. Afterward, he stuck it to the shirt he was wearing.

“I’ll keep it pinned to my wallet. I end up switching the bag I carry pretty often. Is that okay?” Yoo Hye-Sook confirmed.

“Sure. I’m sorry for asking this from you, Mother.”

“I know you’re just doing this to protect us.”

Kang Chan expressed his gratitude upon seeing the worry on Yoo Hye-Sook’s face.

He then called Choi Jong-Il and asked the agent to invite all the employees who were available. It was to Kang Chan’s surprise that Choi Jong-Il said everyone would be attending.

“What? No one’s going on dates with their significant other? It’s Saturday.”

-From what happened at the Eurasian Rail conference hall, the incident with Yang Jin-Woo, and your recent retrieval of the fallen soldiers… The God of Blackfield has become quite popular among the agents and members of the National Intelligence Service’s special team. Everyone takes pride in the work they’re doing, so who would turn down an invitation from you?

It wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

“Alright, then. Should we do meat? Or hoe, the raw fish?”

-Meat sounds good.

“Then make a reservation somewhere that’s not too shabby, and tell everyone to dress comfortably. Today’s a weekend, after all. I’m sure you already know what people will think if we all get together and the agents are wearing their black suits. The look in their eyes is already scary enough.”

-Understood. 

They made arrangements to meet at one in the afternoon, and Kang Chan relayed the time to Kang Dae-Kyung and Yoo Hye-Sook.

“What should I do? Kang Chan. What should I wear?” Yoo Hye-Sook asked worriedly.

Kang Chan chuckled.

“It’s the weekend. I told everyone to come wearing comfortable clothes. If you dress to the nines, the guards might feel uncomfortable.”

“You think so?”

Yoo Hye-Sook headed inside the bedroom.

The TV was currently broadcasting news.

“Have you come to a decision?” Kang Dae-Kyung suddenly inquired.

“About what?” Kang Chan asked.

“Doing work for the country,” Kang Dae-Kyung replied.

“I don’t know. I’m still not sure yet,” Kang Chan began to confess. “I had to give you and Mother transmitters, you’re guarded 24/7, and you might even have to give up your business because of me… What do you think I should do, Father?”

It was unlike him, but Kang Chan hoped Kang Dae-Kyung could give him an answer. It was the first time in his life Kang Chan thought it would be okay to leave such a critical decision to someone else.