Zhou Xingzhe flipped his hair back as he got up from the couch, his discount Ekin Cheng-style face stretching into an enthusiastic grin. With two of his subordinates in tow, he strode forward to greet the newcomers.
"Chairman Bai, Sister Hong."
The tall, bald man known as Chairman Bai was just as warm, embracing Zhou Xingzhe with a firm handshake.
Zhou lowered his voice. "Did you bring everything?"
As he spoke, his gaze flicked to Sister Hong, nodding politely before taking out his phone and flashing a reassuring smile.
"Ichida is already on his way. Should be here in 30 minutes at most. Why don't we head inside for a drink while we wait?"
His eyes drifted toward the four black-suited bodyguards standing behind Sister Hong. Each of them was gripping a rolling suitcase. Zhou's smile widened.
The moment Jack heard the name Ichida, he knew Ma Seok-do's side was definitely going to come up empty-handed. Watching the group disappear into a VIP room, he pulled out his phone to call Seok-do.
The dial tone rang for ages. No answer.
Damn it. He must already be inside the club with that idiot Fatty.
Jack sighed, glancing down at Park Min-young—who was now slumped against him, mumbling drunken nonsense.
Guess I'll just wait and see how this plays out.
—
Inside the VIP room, Zhou Xingzhe enthusiastically pulled out a whiskey bottle.
"This is a limited edition Yamazaki 25—a little something to celebrate our first successful deal."
Jack, eavesdropping through his Bluetooth, casually skimmed the drink menu.
Huh. That bottle's one of the most expensive ones here. 16 million won…
Over $12,000 USD for a single bottle?
The price of the celebration told Jack everything he needed to know—this wasn't some small-time deal. But what intrigued him even more was how Zhou addressed the newcomers.
"Chairman Bai" and "Sister Hong"…
And more importantly—Zhou Xingzhe's Mandarin pronunciation was off.
They're from Taiwan.
Sure enough, as the conversation continued, it became clear that Chairman Bai and Sister Hong were members of a Taiwanese triad.
And this meeting was about a drug deal.
Jack frowned. Why would Taiwanese gangsters go through Korea instead of directly dealing with Ichijo-gumi in Japan? More middlemen means higher costs, not lower.
Something didn't add up.
Jack continued to listen.
40 minutes passed.
Still no sign of Ichida.
The Taiwanese group was getting impatient. Their tone sharpened, carrying an unspoken threat.
Jack, meanwhile, was running mental simulations.
At face value, this was a golden opportunity. If things went as expected, it would be too easy to crash the party.
A perfectly timed raid would catch both sides red-handed—bringing down Ichijo-gumi's Korean branch and a corrupt police captain in one clean sweep.
Not to mention…
Jack glanced at the four rolling suitcases.
Cash.
And a lot of it.
Korean won wouldn't make sense for a deal like this—likely US dollars. And if the cash was in USD, even a half-full suitcase meant millions.
The problem?
He had nowhere to hide four massive suitcases of money.
Unlike some of his past jobs, Jack wasn't carrying a duffel bag stuffed with gear. He didn't even have storage space—thanks to his shitty system for not giving him an inventory function.
No way could he just walk out of here with millions in cash unnoticed.
Damn it. This would be so much easier if the Wolff brothers were here already.
Jack exhaled through his nose.
Fine. No rush.
Right then, the entire mood inside the VIP room shifted.
Zhou Xingzhe's phone rang.
The moment he answered, his tone turned sharp.
"Where are you? Showing up late for something this important—isn't that a bit disrespectful?"
On the other end, Ichida's voice was frantic.
"We've got big problems. One of my guys leaked info about us skimming shipments behind the boss's back."
Zhou's jaw tightened.
"And?"
"The boss sent hitmen after us. They're already here. These guys don't mess around. I have no choice but to lay low and watch the situation."
"The deal's off—for now. I'm taking the product and running. This is life or death, screw the money!"
Ichida hung up before Zhou could respond.
Zhou inhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay composed.
"Something's wrong," Sister Hong remarked flatly.
Zhou forced a smile. "Nothing major. Give me two days."
The air froze.
Zhou's smile stiffened.
The Taiwanese gangsters' expressions darkened.
Chairman Bai said nothing—just locked eyes with Sister Hong, awaiting her decision.
It was a standoff.
The only sound was the faint clink of ice against whiskey glasses.
Finally, Sister Hong's lips curled in a cold smirk.
"Fine. Two days."
"But if we don't get the product by then…"
Her voice dropped to an icy whisper.
"You won't like how we deal with it."
Zhou Xingzhe and his lackeys subtly exhaled, barely disguising their relief.
Then—
Chairman Bai picked up the Yamazaki 25.
He didn't take a sip.
Instead—he poured.
Glass filled to the brim.
Kept pouring.
Amber liquid overflowed, spilling onto the table.
And then—
The empty bottle hit the table hard.
BANG.
"We don't give a fuck if you're a cop."
Chairman Bai's grin was not friendly.
Zhou clenched his jaw, grabbing the overflowing glass. He tipped it back—draining the entire thing in one go.
His face darkened as he stood up and left.
—
Jack wasted zero time.
"Alright. Here's the situation—"
Strapping Park Min-young—completely wasted—into the passenger seat, he hit speed dial.
"Zhou Xingzhe and Ichida planned to skim product and resell it to these Taiwanese triads. But now Ichijo-gumi knows. They sent hitmen after Ichida. Deal's off. Product's still in Ichida's hands."
"Which means—" Jack continued, starting the engine.
"This was definitely the batch of 'HYPER' Zhou stole from the cops. So that fake raid? The police ambush? That was all just to cover their tracks."
"I'm keeping an eye on Zhou. How's it going on your end?"
______
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