God of Blackfield

Chapter 366: It Will Be a Good Lesson (1)



Kang Chan and his team left Kabul on a civilian aircraft and arrived at the Seongnam Airport an hour before evening. They landed smoothly on the runway and stopped in front of the main building. While vehicles fitted with stairs and a makeshift lift, along with the honor guard, solemnly positioned themselves in front of the plane's door and cargo hold, the plane opened.

The rush of wind and the afternoon sunlight covering the airport made it clear that they were back in Korea. Kang Chan was the first to disembark, dressed in civilian clothes.

"Thank you for your hard work, Assistant Director, " greeted Moon Jae-Hyun.

To Kang Chan’s surprise, Moon Jae-Hyun had been waiting in front of the plane. Behind the president were Jeon Dae-Geuk, Go Gun-Woo, Kim Hyung-Jung, and their aides.

Moon Jae-Hyun seemed internally shocked by the wounds on Kang Chan’s face but didn't mention them. As always, he simply shook Kang Chan’s hand firmly. Kang Chan introduced his men as they disembarked.

“This is Seok Kang-Ho of the National Intelligence Service, sir.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” replied Moon Jae-Hyun.

After shaking Moon Jae-Hyun’s hand respectfully, Seok Kang-Ho moved toward the cargo hold.

Next, Gérard bowed and shook hands with the president. “Gérard de Mermier of the Foreign Legion, sir.”

“Choi Jong-Il. National Intelligence Service.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”

After Woo Hee-Seung and Lee Doo-Hee disembarked, Cha Dong-Gyun followed.

“Captain Cha Dong-Gyun, sir!”

“You've worked hard,” said Moon Jae-Hyun.

Cha Dong-Gyun stood beside President Moon Jae-Hyun. One by one, he introduced his subordinates.

“Lieutenant Yoon Sang-Ki of the Jeungpyeong special forces team, sir.”

Meanwhile, Kang Chan exchanged greetings with Go Gun-Woo, Jeon Dae-Geuk, and Kim Hyung-Jung.

“You should take some time off and have a meal with us. I’m starting to forget your face,” Jeon Dae-Geuk quietly said.

Jeong Won-Min came down, greeted them, and introduced the soldiers from the 606. Kang Myung-Gu then introduced the counter-terrorism team members one by one.

It might be a cumbersome task, but this kind of reception could be as valuable as a medal pinned on their chests.

The interpreter soon climbed down as well. He hesitated in front of Moon Jae-Hyun, who shook his hand for a longer time upon seeing his severed fingers. Moon Jae-Hyun then covered the interpreter's hand with his left hand.

“Thank you for your hard work. We won’t forget your efforts,” said Moon Jae-Hyun.

The interpreter was now a veteran who had overcome challenging battles in Africa, Libya, and Afghanistan. His entire face was filled with a sense of duty.

Finally, their injured men went down.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

Starting with Kwak Cheol-Ho, Moon Jae-Hyun consoled each of the injured. Once they had hopped onto the ambulance, it departed ahead of everyone.

Moon Jae-Hyun then turned around and headed toward the cargo hold. Everyone else followed. The honor guard, wearing white masks and gloves, was standing on either side of it. Kang Chan nodded at the waiting staff.

Thuuud.

With a heavy sound, the lift installed in the cargo hold lowered a deceased DMZ team member.

"Attention!"

Clack!

The honor guards, wearing khaki tops, and white hats, masks, gloves, and pants, straightened up.

"Salute!"

Snap-!

Slowly, they raised their hands to their temples and saluted the fallen.

"At ease!"

They lowered their hands just as slowly.

"Pay respects!"

Six honor guards walked toward the body in a plastic bag and transferred it into a steel coffin. Once they had properly arranged it, they transferred it to a wooden coffin.

Flap.

Two soldiers waiting at the front lifted the Taegukgi and covered the coffin with it.

"Lift!"

Clank.

The soldiers slowly lifted the coffin with precise movements. Such actions wouldn't bring the dead back to life or lessen the sorrow of their grieving families and acquaintances. However, it was a necessary sign of respect for those who had sacrificed for the country and the Taegukgi.

"Honor guard, move!"

The legs of the honor guards moved as if tied together, slowly moving the coffin to the prepared vehicle. The team, once disbanded, had been called upon by the nation. Even in death, they were receiving the minimal respect they deserved.

Kang Chul-Gyu and the DMZ team members watched with mixed emotions on their faces. After handling the second and third fallen DMZ team members, the bodies of the 606 were lowered.

"Attention!"

Clack.

"Salute!"

Snap.

The soldiers’ white-gloved hands slowly rose. This task took a long time, but nothing was more important than this.

"At ease!"

Snap.

Their victory was only possible thanks to these men’s sacrifices.

"Pay respects!"

They won this battle thanks to the soldiers who died with rice grains and barley tea powder on their lips.

"Lift!"

Flap!

"Honor guard, move!"

After covering the coffin with the Taegukgi, the members grabbed the coffin and moved slowly.

Once respect had been given to all of their fallen soldiers, Kang Chan approached Moon Jae-Hyun.

"Assistant Director.” With reddened eyes, Moon Jae-Hyun grasped Kang Chan's hand once more. "I will remember the efforts you and your soldiers have shown today for the rest of my life."

He then turned around. Jeon Dae-Geuk followed his gesture and fell in line behind him.

"I’ll have to go first, Assistant Director. Please discuss the remaining matters with Manager Kim."

Go Gun-Woo also extended his hand, grasping Kang Chan's hand once more before turning away.

"Ready to go?" Kim Hyung-Jung asked, finally looking relieved.

"What about my request?" Chan Chan asked.

"It arrived two hours ago. Preparations should be done by now."

Kang Chan exhaled quietly. He then turned to his men. “We’ll disperse here.”

All the soldiers were now looking at him.

Kang Chan continued, "Excellent work on completing the mission. You all did well.”

As commanded, the Jeungpyeong special forces team, the 606, and the counter-terrorism team headed toward their respective transport. The DMZ team also headed to their hotel accommodations.

Once the three buses had departed, sedans and vans drove up from behind the main building.

"Are you coming with us?" Kang Chan asked.

"I was planning to. Is that a problem?" Kim Hyung-Jung replied in a cheeky tone.

He’s getting cheekier by the minute.

Kang Chan boarded a van with Seok Kang-Ho, Gérard, and Kim Hyung-Jung. Choi Jong-Il and others hopped into the sedans.

"We're going to Bangji Hospital first. Director Yoo is waiting for us."

"Did you contact him?"

"Yes. He sounded like he’d be delighted to see us after so long."

While Kang Chan smirked, the car sped forward.

Soldiers were already waiting at the Bangji Hospital. They headed straight to the first-floor treatment room.

"Ouch!"

Yoo Hun-Woo reacted as usual upon seeing Kang Chan and Gérard’s wounds. Now, he even had instant coffee ready in the treatment room. Using tweezers to prod the wounds, Yoo Hun-Woo pulled out the bandages that Seok Kang-Ho had inserted.

Rip. Rip-rip.

Times like this really can drive anyone crazy. Removing bandages stuck to the flesh is literally like tearing live flesh.

"Ugh."

Gérard groaned beside Kang Chan as the second bandage was pulled.

What a baby!

The treatment took three hours to complete.

"You’ll need to be confined for at least two days," Yoo Hun-Woo said.

"I have somewhere I need to go."

Yoo Hun-Woo shook his head in resignation and administered another injection.

"Make sure to take your medicine on time and absolutely no alcohol."

Kang Chan nodded. "Okay."

He then got up from his seat. He had more than six newly stitched wounds all over him.

***

The mother looked blankly at her son's face on the altar.

What’s he so happy about?

Why did God have to leave behind an old, useless elderly and take someone so young?

Her brother from Jangseong said he would come, but the mourning hall was still empty.

Her son, who had grown up pitiably without knowing a father's affection, had once nearly gone down a bad path because he was quick on his feet, yet he always massaged his mother's shoulders at night to encourage himself.

"I'm so sorry. It's because I'm uneducated and so useless that you died."

She felt regretful. If his parents had been a bit more competent, he wouldn't have had to do such dangerous work. If they had been more able, his final journey wouldn't be so desolate. A few women who used to do business with her came to help and a few who claimed to be her son's comrades. That was it.

The single wreath standing alone in the mourning hall looked particularly lonely. She felt strangely pained by the empty space. It felt too regrettable and sorry that not only could she not properly raise her son in life but was also sending him off poorly in death.

"How much pain did you endure, my child!"

The old lady swallowed her sobs. The grief inside her strangely refused to burst out, clogging her chest. Just then, a group of men and women in black suits rushed in.

'Oh my!'

She wondered if something had gone wrong. Did these people hold a grudge against her son? Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw their faces, all with similar expressions.

"Mother, I’m here."

The mother blinked and looked at the person who spoke. Her blurry eyes cleared in an instant.

It was Seok Kang-Ho. The one whom she had been waiting for so long had finally arrived.

"Oh my! Hyung-nim, you’re finally here! Why are you so late?!"

The tears clogging her chest finally burst forth, making her feel reassured and, above all, immensely comforted.

‘Mother, I met a wonderful hyung-nim.’

You have met such an amazing hyung-nim, my son!

The old lady now felt she could properly send her son off. She couldn’t help but feel grateful. Having someone to lean on in this world was a blessing. The mother clung to Seok Kang-Ho's embrace repeatedly, while Seok Kang-Ho wiped her tears away with his thumb.

"I told you to hold on tightly, didn’t I? What happened to your face?"

"I did hold on. I forced myself to swallow water and endure the pain so I could send my child off properly," said the old lady.

"I’d like to take charge of the rituals. Would that be alright with you?"

"Would you?"

A soldier brought water, spirits, and incense inside. They said this wasn’t a formal practice, but the two wanted it done anyway. Kang Chan just watched them in silence.

Suddenly, the once-empty funeral hall became bustling. Wreaths started coming in, so many that the later ones had their ribbons removed and placed in one spot.

Once Seok Kang-Ho had completed the preparations. Kang Chan stepped forward, lit the incense, and bowed twice. Then he faced Seok Kang-Ho and bowed again.

"Thank you, Captain," Seok Kang-Ho said.

"Send him off properly," Kang Chan answered.

"I will."

As Kang Chan rose, Kim Hyung-Jung, Gérard, Choi Jong-Il, Woo Hee-Seung, and Lee Doo-Hee stepped forward.

"Oh my! Oh my! You wretched boy! Leaving behind such a wonderful hyung-nim! You poor thing!"

The old lady wailed loudly, seemingly to send her son off properly.[1]

As Kang Chan stepped back, the DMZ team members entered. Kang Chul-Gyu, after exchanging a glance with Kang Chan, moved toward the altar.

Damn.

If everyone here were to be sent into battle, they could probably wipe out an entire city.

***

Han Kyung-Mi took a deep breath, bothered by the broken mirror that she had accidentally shattered while cleaning. It felt ominous. She kept reassuring herself that it was nothing—that it was just a broken hand mirror.

‘They say it's best to smash a broken mirror completely and throw it away.’

Recalling her friend’s advice, she put the mirror in a sack and smashed it several times on the ground at night.

‘It’s okay. It will be fine. He will come back safely.’

Han Kyung-Mi habitually wiped down the old sink, which she had cleaned more than a hundred times, when she heard Cha Seung-Ho's firm shout.

"Ha-ah!"

"Aaaaaah!"

When she ran to open the door, she saw her child with a hand-drawn Dark Vayder paper mask had knocked down her other child, who had a hand-drawn Tarantula-Man paper mask.

"Hey! Cha Seung-Ho! How can you do that to your little brother!"

Han Kyung-Mi was really upset, but she knew she couldn't hit the kids now. In fact, the kids weren’t responsible for the broken mirror. She shouldn’t take out her frustration on them for her mistake. The one with a hand-drawn Darth Vader paper mask, watching her carefully, retreated to the corner.

Han Kyung-Mi helped the one with the Spider-Man mask up, removed the mask drawn to look like bitten cheeks, and hugged the child. She began to burst into tears again.

Without Cha Dong-Gyun, how could she raise these boys? Could she raise them properly without that dependable man?

No! Why am I having such ominous thoughts?

Han Kyung-Mi struggled to gather her thoughts. She had met Cha Dong-Gyun while working in a small office as an accountant. Since then, Cha Dong-Gyun had been unwavering.

Training, comrades, and missions were his top priorities, but Han Kyung-Mi never once complained about it. After all, her husband was simply that kind of person—and he would never change.

While it was unimaginable for him to abandon the nation, training, and his comrades, he cherished and protected Han Kyung-Mi, Cha Seung-Ho, and Cha Seong-Ho just as unwaveringly.

"Mom, why are you crying?"

"Who said I'm crying?!" Han Kyung-Mi yelled.

It’s only natural for me to raise my voice every now and then, right?

At that moment, she felt a small pair of hands wrap around her neck from behind.

"Mom, don't cry."

It was Cha Seung-Ho.

"I told you, I'm not crying!"

"But you were."

Han Kyung-Mi's tears instantly stopped.

"I will clean up the kitchen. Play with your brother, but don’t hurt each other," she said.

"Okay," Cha Seung-Ho replied firmly, seemingly pleased with the easy resolution.

Just as Han Kyung-Mi was about to leave the children's room, she froze.

"Dear?"

"What's wrong? Did something surprise you?"

"Are you…. are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Cha Seung-Ho and Cha Seong-Ho peeked out from between Han Kyung-Mi's legs and ran toward the voice, shouting, "Daddy!"

"Hey! Were you good?" Cha Dong-Gyun said.

"Yeah!"

Still wearing his combat boots, Cha Dong-Gyun hugged his sons with an arm each.

"Dad, you need to take off your shoes. Come on, get down."

"Okay. Let me first take off my boots, okay?"

After putting the kids down, Cha Dong-Gyun bent over to untie his bootlaces.

His neck, scarred, tanned, and solid, caught Han Kyung-Mi's eye. How frightening and terrible must the moments have been when he got those scars?

Nevertheless, Cha Dong-Gyun, with an unaffected expression, hugged his sons and comforted her.

"Uwaaah!" Han Kyung-Mi ran to him, crying like a child.

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?"

Cha Dong-Gyun hugged her gently and comforted her as if she were a daughter. How could she explain that it was because of a broken hand mirror?

"Dear! It’s actually you, right?" she asked.

"Well, yes, naturally. Why are you acting like a child?"

"Huuh, I’m sorry."

"Huh?"

Cha Dong-Gyun laughed and patted her head.

"Kyung-Mi."

"Yes?"

She was now a mother. At some point, he started calling her "Seung-Ho's mom," and it had become natural. At that moment, though, Cha Dong-Gyun called her by her name.

"No matter what you say, we're having a third child, so don’t try to stop me."

"Hey! Stop teasing me!"

Han Kyung-Mi pulled away and glared at Cha Dong-Gyun.

It felt good to have someone to glare at—to have Cha Dong-Gyun by her side again.

1. In Korean funerals, it is often believed that loudly mourning can help properly send off the deceased. ☜


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