Not Bad 3

Underground of the building was a defunct trans show hall, more like a small pub with a stage installed than an actual theater. A cramped corner measuring thirty pyeong. At the edge of the stage, the targets Da-in had come for were waiting.

“You know what happens when you don’t listen to Dad? Your face gets all chewed up.”

“Hey, you send the photos? These guys are starting to wake up, you know.”

“They took a little too much this time. More is needed. But it’s such a waste, right? If we had done it right, we could have squeezed even more out.”

“Looks like Dad sensed something. So stop wasting breath and get ready to strip them the second the job’s done.”

“Then, shall we strip our own together one last time?”

They laughed crudely, trading lines that weren’t even coherent dialogue. Da-in leaned against the wall by the entrance, scratching her head.

Of the seven men, three were Korean. Two were the locals who had been guarding the entrance earlier, and the other two lounged on the stage smoking strong cigarettes.

They smelled like nothing ordinary. The ones rolled on the floor had machine guns slung over them, illegal firearms modified on the spot. Da-in recognized the type instantly. Not amateurs. Evidence of crimes like abduction, robbery, and blackmail committed like breathing.

She tapped the earphone in her ear. Moments later, instead of Branch Chief Yoon Tae-jung, Cyber Team Leader Sandra picked up the call.

Sandra’s voice sounded tired, like a company employee worn down by long deployments.

Da-in shrugged, then hid behind a toppled beer machine and lined up her shot at the guards.

Eliminating motionless targets had been her job since her seventeenth spring. Back then she had aimed at targets, not people, but the feeling felt no different now. It was definitely a mental issue.

That was why she accepted only C-rank requests. Even if she had to take them out, she didn’t want to treat them like targets.

But today was the exception. A C-rank job had turned straight into B-rank. Most likely due to the client’s impulsive behavior, yet this time it was clearly Yoon Tae-jung’s deliberate scheme.

Annoying.

Just one more squeeze of the trigger and the mission would be over. At least five shots. Or… wait. Ending these lesser beings with only five bullets felt too merciful.

Da-in’s lips, which had been faintly frowning earlier, curved into a faint smile. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

The suppressor-whistled bullet flew straight and punched through the target’s skull. The man who had been sucking in cigarette smoke until his cheeks hollowed out crumpled backward. Blood sprayed beneath his head like a fountain.

Everyone froze in panic. The brief silence was perfect timing for an assassin. Da-in didn’t hesitate; she locked onto the next target. The guard, dazed by his comrade’s death, screamed and pulled the trigger.

The automatic rifle roared for about two seconds. Then the shot rang out, and the head exploded.

“Aaaah!”

The two guards gone in an instant, the surviving men panicked and bolted. But running away would only lead to an even worse hell.

Being caught by Dan Sneyer and losing their lives would be better than being caught by me and living the rest of my days disabled, right?

Da-in made the calculation and shifted her aim toward the direction the fugitives had fled.

Every slide of the slide locked, blood splattered in every direction, and the building echoed with unbearable screams.

Da-in prayed the woman lying unconscious from the drug wouldn’t wake. She fired exactly six shots.

Hearing Yoon Tae-jung’s bubbling voice, Da-in felt slightly better.

“We didn’t kill the perpetrators. Just the ones carrying firearms.”

Da-in sat calmly at the resort entrance, waiting for the taxi to arrive.

“What? Treating criminals with taxes?”

The night should have cooled down, but the air felt heavy and sticky like a storm was about to break. The smell of blood made her queasy.

“I didn’t accept the job, did I? And I really came with this man?”

Da-in stood calmly beside Dan, glaring at him while he played on his phone.

Dan narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. She couldn’t tell if he understood her Korean or not.

“Please speak clearly. It’s a Sihyang issue, right? I don’t want to get tangled with those thugs again. And Kwon Hee-jae, right? This target.”

Whether because of the name Sihyang or because of Kwon Hee-jae, a bitter taste filled her mouth.

When the bus arrived, Dan naturally sat beside her as if they had always been together.

The detailed files will be sent shortly. And the exact target isn’t Kwon Hee-jae—it’s Kwon Yeon-woo. Kwon Hee-jae’s son. Eight years old, the little one.

“Son? Son? Branch Chief, Branch Chief? Hey, Yoon Tae-jung!”

Yoon Tae-jung still only spoke what he wanted and cut the connection.

Kwon Hee-jae had a son in Sihyang?

Da-in wanted to curse, but no one here would listen to her story.

After tipping the taxi driver, she got off in front of a villa that felt like a vacation spot. Unknown tropical plants created an exotic yet vivid atmosphere.

This was the accommodation where the target couple had stayed. She pulled out the copied card key and went inside. Before the operation, she recovered the cameras and listening devices she had set up.

With the Korean consulate and local police on the scene, this was the only chance to erase traces.

Then, a man jumped into the villa’s pool with a splash. He tossed his shirt and pants onto the sunbed and dove deep in underwear only.

A 190cm man with balanced muscles like a surfer raced to the pool’s edge in silent movement. He suddenly erupted from the water, sweeping wet hair back with both hands.

His face, framed by those blue eyes, glowed like a teenager on vacation.

Doing top-kill work with such a clean face was ridiculous. Definitely not something the public could believe.

After recovering all the surveillance gear, Da-in said gruffly, “They were playing dirty in that pool. Want to jump in that water?”

“Ah, well. If there’s water, everyone wants to get in.”

“Not me. Anyway, I’m not taking this mission. Look for another partner.”

“That’s what Mr. Yoon told me to tell you. What’s the Dangsan Tree, anyway?”

Yoon Tae-jung mentioned even that?

Da-in found Dan’s casual attitude particularly grating. She had killed two men today and disabled three. Dan Sneyer might have done the same. Yet he acted as if it was nothing, as if he had lost all human dignity.

“There is. It’s a tree that drives ghosts crazy.”

“Ghosts? Ha, my god. You actually believe that?”

Dan rose from the pool’s edge. He grabbed a towel from the housekeeper and wiped his wet body, then approached her.

Da-in glanced at her wristwatch and nodded.

“One in the morning. The time ghosts love most.”

Dan let out a refreshing laugh. Water trails stretched from beneath his feet. Under the indirect lighting, they looked like pools of blood to her.

“Mr. Yoon said there’s a chance to find the Dangsan Tree. Exactly like this expression.”

Dan’s brows furrowed as he gave her a deliberately fierce look. Was he mimicking Yoon Tae-jung’s usual expression? Da-in tried not to laugh and shook her head, leaving the villa behind Dan.

Ha! You don’t know what you’re talking about!

More than ten years ago, Da-in had woken from her morning nap to her grandfather’s rough roar. The sound was loud enough to echo through the century-old mansion.

The weather had been cold. The air itself felt different, as if frost was about to fall.

And in front of her grandfather striding around without shoes, a man stood calmly examining the mansion.

“I’ve already bought it, sir.”

The man was impeccably elegant from voice to posture. He had the look of someone who had never known deprivation—a firm shell that wouldn’t even let in a needle—and a face so striking it looked almost artificial.

“My name is Kwon Hee-jae.”