The streets already smelled of autumn. Kang Chan had been living a busy life filled with incidents and operations that were larger in scale than the ones he had been involved in back in Africa.

He was staring out the window in a daze when the cab stopped at his destination. After paying the taxi driver, he entered the building and went up to the fifth floor. Kim Hyung-Jung hobbled over and opened the door himself.

“Why are you opening doors in that condition?” Kang Chan sighed.

“You get used to moving with your injuries after a while,” Kim Hyung-Jung replied reassuringly.

Kang Chan followed him inside and was greeted by Seok Kang-Ho, who had stood up.

“Someone’s here early,” Kang Chan scoffed.

“We had jjamppong,” Seok Kang-Ho responded.

The table was covered in ashtrays, large ramen cups, and small paper cups that were clearly once filled with coffee. It seemed Seok Kang-Ho headed straight to this place after they parted ways at the hotel.

Click. 

As Kang Chan sat down, an employee brought over three more cups of coffee and left with the empty ones.

“You should be in bed, Mr. Kim,” Kang Chan urged.

“It’s fine—I can handle...