After our pivotal encounter, Joon-ho prepares to briefly return home and gather vital belongings—the initial test of our survival pact. To provide transition means, I press a hefty 100 million won stipend into his hands, insisting extra funds may allow procuring additional useful estate items.
I bid him temporary farewell with a firm forearm clasp but some unease. We stand upon the crux of apocalyptic brinkmanship—trusting my fantastic claims enough to sacrifice worldly stability? Or dismissing the warnings as delusions and resuming mundane routine? If doubts surface en route, self-preservation may compel abandoning our quixotic quest...provisions in hand to boot.
The work crews press on meanwhile, stringing razor wire and pouring reinforced bastions per my exacting specifications. Soon, an impressive perimeter encircles the concrete tower that will serve as a central fortress through the violent months ahead.
Dawn breaks after a fretful night. But no vehicles arrive as morning stretches toward afternoon. As each hour passes, disappointment wars with relief—had I erred in entrusting even my closest friend? Would basic self-preservation impel fleeing this foretold chaos before shared loyalty? Never before have I bared my unbelievable history completely until now.
Distant engines echo suddenly!
I rush to parapet vantage points overlooking the camouflaged entrance in time to glimpse Joon-ho's truck emerge trailing a small cargo trailer. Profound relief floods me as he pulls through the gate to park within the safety zone we constructed.
Joon-ho jumps out, all smiles to see me rushing to meet him. "Is this the welcome I get after all those miles?" He laughs deeply.
I grab his arms, feeling a wave of emotion. "I gotta admit, as the day dragged on, I started to wonder if our bond could stand up to everything falling apart..."
He gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I don't know what's coming, but don't ever doubt my loyalty. It's been solid since our academy days."
We conduct inventory jointly, approving his prudently minimal gear. He even returns almost all funds, insisting the balance better serves to acquire additional bulk supplies. In this instant, I know with utmost conviction that the two of us shall withstand destiny's days together.
As I get ready to bring Joon-ho into the fold more officially, I call him to the planning room, where maps of our fortress-in-progress are spread out.
"Hey, Joon-ho," I start, keeping it informal, "I'm going to need you to take the lead here while I'm gone. I've got to grab some... let's just call them 'hard-to-get' items before things get too chaotic out there."
He nods a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
I quickly go over the details with him – where the armouries are, where we're keeping supplies, and what to do if anything sketchy goes down while I'm away.
Before heading out, I drop by the crew working downstairs. "Just so you guys know, Joon-ho's in charge for a bit," I say casually. They exchange looks, but nobody says anything.
I'm packed and ready for a trip back to Seoul. It's a bit of a risk, diving back into the city, especially to deal with the underground guys for weapons and drugs.
As I'm about to leave, Joon-ho gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Take care out there. I'll keep everything tight here until you're back."
I give him a solid handshake, feeling pretty confident about leaving things in his hands. "Thanks, Joon-ho. I'll be back before you know it." With that, I head out, passing through the barbed wire, ready for some dicey deals that'll be impossible once everything goes sideways.
Arriving in Seoul, I make covert contact with Kang, an infamous gun runner and former target of my investigations years prior. Even imprisoned, the ruthless gangster kept black market connections flowing thanks to his widespread network. Now, ironically, I must access those same filthy channels to secure firearms before anarchy dissolves the final remnants of authority.
A meeting is arranged through cryptic back channels. I watch carefully for tails on my way to a compromised rendezvous point Kang established in the disused industrial outskirts. He may have weapons to spare presently, but doubtless still holds resentment toward the officer who brought his empire crashing down initially.
I find Kang relaxed inside a dingy warehouse flanked by a half dozen lethal enforcers. His snake-like eyes flick up, assessing me as I enter. Tattooed fists tighten almost imperceptibly.
"Well, well...look what the storms washed up," he sneers. "My old badge buddy - done playing lapdog? Here to grovel for some teeth of your own now?" His thugs snigger ominously.
I ignore the grandstanding, getting straight to business. "You have merchandise I require. I will compensate your...enterprise handsomely in untraceable offshore funds."
Kang snorts. "Must be urgent items for Seoul's finest to seek me out and beg so politely. But my inventory now runs steep...compensation especially so for cops I dislike." The hammer clicks loudly on a handgun behind me.
Jaw clenched, I slide a slip of paper detailing blood money payments I prepared to what I assumed were our prearranged terms. Kang glances and scoffs.
"I said steep...not insulting." He scrawls an obscenely higher figure and shoves it back. "And damages for those long, cold years you cost me inside."
Cornered with no other options, I reluctantly agree, sending over the initial payment not out of concern for my finances, but with the gnawing worry that Kang might not honor our agreement. The assurance of immediate protection is paramount, even if it means putting my trust in the hands of someone as unreliable as Kang. Resigned, I signal to kickstart our dubious transaction.
Kang, ever the opportunist, commands his henchmen with a swift gesture. "Apologies, but our rules demand full payment up front before we part with any goods. We can't have our valued clients disappearing with unpaid debts - it's simply bad for business." His grin morphs into a chilling sneer. Suddenly, the air fills with the ominous click of pistols being cocked behind me. It's clear now - this was always meant to be a revenge-fueled betrayal.
Reacting instinctively, I hurl the meeting table towards them, sending Kang's goons reeling as I snatch the first weapon concealed by my ankle. Kang himself leaps for cover, cursing me as bullets fly. His men, though numerous, are disorganised, their shots shattering crates and barrels but failing to find their mark. Their lack of discipline is no match for my police training, now repurposed for sheer survival.
I weave through the labyrinth of stacked crates, setting traps for my pursuers, picking them off one by one. I claim two Glocks and their ammunition from the fallen before making my escape into the night. Kang, that treacherous viper, has failed in his dual objectives: to exact full revenge and to secure his ill-gotten gains.
Breath heaving, I stealthily steal through litter-strewn side alleys and drainage culverts, putting distance between myself and Kang's headquarters before they can regroup and organise a chase. I successfully secured a fraction of desperately needed armaments along with two handguns and a box of 9mm cartridges. Not enough to withstand a siege, perhaps, but substantial progress toward gathering prohibited means of defence before authority evaporates.