God of Blackfield

After getting off the helicopter at the Osan airfield, Gérard, the members of the Foreign Legion, Kim Hyung-Jung, and the Korean specialized team were assigned two barracks for them to stay at.

“You’re really absurd,” Kim Hyung-Jung commented toward Kang Chan despite having trouble speaking. He had bandages wrapped around his head, chest, finger, and thigh.

Kim Hyung-Jung’s eyes still weren’t clear due to the IV drip constantly sending painkillers into his body.

“Please get some rest. I was told an ambulance will come here from Seoul tomorrow morning to transfer you to the police hospital,” Kang Chan said. He couldn’t say anything else while looking at Kim Hyung-Jung since he appeared to be feeling angry, wronged, and even miserable.

He wouldn’t have that look in his eyes just because he got wounded during an operation they carried out. Anyone would feel similar emotions if they walked into a trap that killed thirteen of the agents that followed them and critically wounded the others.

“You were unlucky this time, Mr. Manager. You should get better quickly so we can get revenge. Now that they’ve attacked us, we should strike back and make them pay for all the damages they caused.”

Kim Hyung-Jung smiled bitterly.

“Please sleep.”

“Thank you,” Kim Hyung-Jung closed his eyes softly.

Tsk.

Kang Chan went out of the barrack, sat at the stairs at the entrance, and bit on a cigarette.

Creak.

Seok Kang-Ho came out to the stairs from the barrack next door. “You were here? The spicy ramen was amazing. I can make you one real quick if you want.”

Seok Kang-Ho was sniffling. He looked satisfied.

“It’s fine—just head inside and make a lot of coffee,” Kang Chan said.

“There aren’t instant coffees here.”

“I know. Just make a cup of light roast coffee.”

When Seok Kang-Ho stepped through the door and started talking in one of Algeria’s languages, they immediately heard someone reply “Okay[1]”

Seok Kang-Ho sat next to Kang Chan after closing the door. “Is something bothering you?”

“No,” Kang Chan answered, then crushed the cigarette out into the floor.

“You look like you’re on the verge of exploding and actually will if someone messes with you. Didn’t you see the people checking your mood after you came into the barrack?”

Did I do that?

“Anyway, considering you made those men wary of your mood even though you haven’t even been with them for twenty hours yet, it seems you’re born with the ability to make people listen to you,” Seok Kang-Ho added.

“Why aren’t you wary about my mood, then?”

“I’ve always been this way.”

Kang Chan laughed out loud. This fucker had truly acted like that from the beginning.

“Please feel better. Manager Kim being wounded is unfortunate, but isn’t it good that we brought him back alive? Let’s just focus on that. It’s already a relief that he’s not that severely injured aside from the wound on his finger.”

Creak.

The new recruit brought over mugs in both hands while looking happy.

Regardless of the location, the new recruits always ran errands for the seniors… but Kang Chan and Dayeru were the exceptions.

The new recruit went inside right away after handing over the coffee.

“Let’s forget about the agents that were killed in action. This always happens in this kind of work,” Seok Kang-Ho said.

Although he appeared to be Seok Kang-Ho again, he was still Dayeru. Nevertheless, he was acting smart again. At any rate, his ability to adapt was amazing.

Creak.

The door opened again.

Gérard frowned as he came down the stairs with difficulty. He looked pale, and he had bandages wrapped around his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Kang Chan asked.

“I was feeling cramped in there.”

When Kang Chan smiled lightly, Seok Kang-Ho stood up from his spot with a grin and told Kang Chan, “This fucker really can’t read a room.”

Seok Kang-Ho's eyes uncomfortably met Gérard’s as he headed inside the barrack. These two fuckers were making Kang Chan quite tired.

“Sit. Want a cigarette?” Kang Chan asked.

Gérard carefully approached Kang Chan, then sat by him. Kang Chan lit up two cigarettes and handed one of them to Gérard.

“Who are you really?” Gérard asked. He exhaled cigarette smoke as if sighing, then looked at Kang Chan. “The fact that we rested for twenty minutes after eating, that you hit all of the enemies you shot either in the heart or the forehead, that you did everything yourself without ordering the members to do it, and swearing in Korean—those are all well and fine. After all, others could do all of those. However, as far as I know, there has only been one person until now that has forbidden the Foreign Legion members from covering fire.”

Kang Chan was just looking back at Gérard.

“I was happy. I got excited when we were searching the buildings because I had previously thought that I would be happy if I could fight like that one last time with someone I can depend on, even if it meant my death… Hmph! Even if I die, I’d be happy to fight alongside someone who can protect me in any situation. I’ve always missed that kind of day. So please be honest with me. Who are you?” Gérard added.

The cigarette completely burned up while it was in between Gérard’s fingers.

“Captain,” Kang Chan called.

“It’s Gérard. The operation is already over, so call me Gérard. We all know each other’s names anyway. Now, what’s your real name? Ah! Is it a secret?”

“Are you going to believe me if I tell you?”

“Whether I believe it or not is up to me. Just be upfront with it, please. If I go back like this, then I’m going to shoot some random bastard’s head off unintentionally because I’m confused.”

Kang Chan smirked, then said with a sigh, “my name is Kang Chan.”

“Damn it. Don’t play with me.”

“You don’t believe me, fucker?”

Gérard looked at Kang Chan with puzzled eyes when Kang Chan suddenly swore in Korean.

“There’s not even a way to explain everything, so just make of that what you will. How should I or Daye explain ourselves? Would you believe us if we say that our bodies changed or if I say that I died and my spirit had been shoved into this body by the time I opened my eyes? There’s no way to explain what happened. So just think whatever you want.”

“Let me ask you one thing,” Gérard said afterward.

“What is it?”

“How much oil am I supposed to mix in gasoline?”

Kang Chan couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Mix 3 parts oil with 1 part gasoline when you’re going to Africa. You mixed in too much oil last time. Where did you get that lighter?”

“No one was taking the mementos, so I did.”

“Don’t you know the saying that you’ll be unlucky if you take a dead person’s stuff?”

“Hmph! Can people still say that if they realize you’ve returned to life like this?” Gérard asked.

“Crazy fucker.”

“Please don’t swear in Korean out of nowhere.”

Kang Chan smiled, then took a sip of the coffee.

“I won’t be able to join an operation for three months. Please schedule the next one when I get back,” Gérard requested.

“I don’t participate in operations anymore.”

Gérard looked at Kang Chan with a hint of dissatisfaction on his face. “What do you do in South Korea?”

“I go to school.”

“Understood.”

“What do you understand?” Kang Chan was suddenly worried about the future.

“I mean that I understand that you go to school. Why do you ask?”

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Why is this fucker acting like this as well?

“I’m going inside,” Gérard said.

When Kang Chan looked at Gérard’s back, who had carefully stood up and headed into the barracks, he sighed for some strange reason.

***

6 am.

Six ambulances went into the military airfield in Osan.

“I’ll visit you in the hospital, Mr. Manager,” Kang Chan carefully held Kim Hyung-Jung’s bandaged hand. He then watched him until the back door of the ambulance was closed.

At 6:30 am, Kang Chan had breakfast with Gérard and the crew members. The menu was toast, cereal, and fruits.

Afterward, Kang Chan and Gérard sat on the stairs in front of the barracks and drank a mug of coffee each.

When Kang Chan offered him a cigarette, Gérard took it.

Chk chk.

“Whoo.”

“When are we seeing each other again?” Gérard asked.

Kang Chan, who had been looking at the runway, looked at Gérard while smirking. “I wanted to see you once, no matter what. I’m already thankful that I did, but we even fought together. I don’t want to see an idiot again that gets a hole in his shoulder because he got excited like a dickhead.”

Gérard smirked, then stood up from his spot. “Understood.”

“What do you mean ‘understood’?”

This fucker had learned a trick that made people uneasy.

“I’m saying that I understand that you, a person who doesn’t want to see someone who had been shot in the shoulder, are going to school.”

When Kang Chan smiled faintly, the door opened and the members came out.

They were all wearing comfortable outfits and were each carrying a bag. Only the new recruit was carrying two bags.

“We’ll be going now,” Gérard told Kang Chan.

“Okay.”

Kang Chan immediately turned around.

From there, they were going back to where they all lived. They shouldn’t drag on this type of farewell for a long time.

Seok Kang-Ho blankly looked at Kang Chan.

“God of Blackfield!”

That shout didn’t sound as if it came from Gérard.

When Kang Chan looked behind him, he found the members saluting with the sun rising above their shoulders.

1. This was written as 다이야 밧, which is a transliteration of ‘okay’ in one of Algeria’s languages ☜