Codename Anastasia Novel (End) - Chapter 23

However, he didn’t reprimand him. Instead, he decided to moderately humor the increasingly arrogant bastard and use him. For once, he gave a bright smile and handed him his phone. The added remark was exceedingly sweet.

“Doesn’t sound bad, does it? Then make the call.”

Upon arrival, several black sedans were parked. Only one man, appearing to be a low-ranking mafioso, was sitting inside. The accompanying individuals seemed to have already gone in. A dilapidated warehouse behind the vehicles was today’s rendezvous point.

Kwon Taekjoo and Zhenya had been waiting in the vicinity for some time. They observed the surroundings, gauging when to enter. They waited a little longer in case of any unforeseen circumstances, but no latecomers or signs of a sudden attack were spotted.

He checked the Colt’s magazine. Around that time, Zhenya flicked the cigar he had been holding. The moment the rolling cigar stopped, they moved forward without a word.

He strode purposefully, pulling the trigger. Two bullets fired from the suppressed Colt. However, because the sedan was equipped with bulletproof glass, they couldn’t immediately shatter the car window. Only a giant radial crack appeared on the windshield. The low-ranking mafioso, who had been leisurely smoking, frantically pulled out a rifle.

It was just as the barrel was aimed at Kwon Taekjoo. With a thud, the car body shook. Something like a rock seemed to have fallen on the hood. Before he could even process what happened, something abruptly burst through the cracked windshield. The low-ranking mafioso was pulled out by his collar. Kwon Taekjoo only confirmed he was grabbed by Zhenya before turning his eyes away. If he had watched until the end, he felt like his dreams would be disturbing.

Before long, Zhenya returned to Kwon Taekjoo. He pulled out a handkerchief and threw it to him. Zhenya unhesitatingly wiped his hands on it. The white handkerchief quickly became reddish-brown.

Meanwhile, Kwon Taekjoo scanned the dilapidated warehouse. Soncheff was inside. He didn’t know if the weapon they were involved with was truly ‘Anastasia,’ but he figured he could get some kind of lead by apprehending and interrogating him.

He suddenly looked at Zhenya. Their eyes met immediately. Kwon Taekjoo nodded, signaling entry. Zhenya just smirked without replying.

He opened the door and entered. Dust rose, obscuring his vision. He swept away the dust with his hand, looking around. Office equipment and construction materials were scattered haphazardly everywhere. The brick walls on all sides partially collapsed, and there was a large hole in the ceiling.

In the middle of that chaotic space sat a middle-aged Russian man. Kwon Taekjoo instantly recognized him as Boris, a big shot from ‘Soncheff.’ Five or six burly men stood behind him like a screen. Even during this brief standoff, an oppressive atmosphere permeated the air.

Boris’s reaction was unexpected. He wasn’t particularly flustered, even though it wasn’t Bogdanov who had summoned him. His expression showed slight surprise, then quickly a smile full of interest.

“You’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

Boris initiated the conversation.

“Wasn’t there a big commotion at the Bogdanov mansion last night? I heard rumors that you were the one who caused it, but I couldn’t believe it. Now I see it was true, apparently?”

Boris’s gaze was fixed directly on Zhenya. He seemed to have already heard about the incident at the Bogdanov mansion. Zhenya neither confirmed nor denied it. He merely smirked and shrugged. They seemed to be acquainted. Given that both were big players in the underworld, it was natural.

Boris glanced at Kwon Taekjoo. He scanned him from head to toe, then made an inexplicable expression. He looked at Zhenya again, as if seeking an explanation.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it seems like it’ll be quite fun.”

Zhenya grinned. His tone was excessively light for someone who had turned the Bogdanov family, and by extension, Russia, into enemies. Of course, if the operation succeeded, they would gain immense profits, virtually incalculable. But they would have to overcome countless difficulties to do so. Boris dismissed that slim possibility with a single phrase.

“Reckless.”

“Wouldn’t you say audacious? Usually.”

Zhenya continued to grin, showing no sign of backing down. Boris shook his head and again focused on Kwon Taekjoo. His eyes, scanning him with disapproval, clearly conveyed the question, ‘Why him, of all people?’ It didn’t make Kwon Taekjoo uncomfortable. Rather, being treated as Zhenya’s equal would have been more displeasing.

Without further delay, he interjected into the conversation.

“Let’s cut the chitchat and get to the point. Anastasia, where is it?”

Was it unexpected? Or was he caught off guard? Boris raised an eyebrow, silently questioning.

“Anastasia? I don’t know why you’re looking for it with me.”

Was he going to deny it? Well, there was no proof yet that ‘SS-29’ was ‘Anastasia.’ Besides, he hadn’t expected him to spill everything right away.

“Then should I say ‘SS-29’ for you to know? I need to confirm a few things about that weapon.”

“I thought some rat had walked into a trap, but that was your goal? I don’t know if you’re brave or naive. Surely you didn’t think I’d just answer you easily?”

“No choice then. If words don’t work, we’ll have to communicate with our bodies.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, a bullet flew. He rolled his body towards the piled construction materials. A dense cloud of dust rose immediately from the raining bullets. His vision blurred, and his ears rang. Yet, the gunshots continued relentlessly.

He watched for an opportunity to counterattack and threw a smoke bomb into the building. Black smoke billowed up, quickly engulfing the surroundings. He used that brief moment to shoot out the fluorescent lights in the warehouse one by one. With a characteristic shattering sound, fluorescent light fragments rained down onto the floor. The interior instantly turned into chaos. Intermittent gunshots echoed from various directions, and someone’s scream erupted. The distinct sound of a body part breaking was also vivid.

Zhenya wasn’t beside him, but he didn’t worry about the bastard. He would survive intact no matter the situation. Kwon Taekjoo only needed to worry about his own safety.

He put on his special goggles. Immediately, the human reaction sensor activated, detecting the movements of the mafiosi. He squeezed the trigger repeatedly, passing through the burly men who were fumbling around, unable to distinguish between friend and foe.

“Gah!” “Ugh!”

With a single cry, one by one, the silhouettes that flickered before his eyes fell. Kwon Taekjoo proceeded directly to the chair where Boris had been sitting.

But Boris wasn’t there. He looked around for him, but his shadow was nowhere to be seen. Zhenya was also gone.

He slowly scanned the surroundings as if surveying them. How far had he gone? Suddenly, he felt a sharp tightening at the back of his head. He turned around, puzzled, and a figure abruptly rushed at him. He instinctively dodged, but a sharp pain still grazed his arm. His sleeve felt wet, as if he had been cut by a weapon. He quickly stepped back and aimed at the opponent’s head. He didn’t pull the trigger hastily, because if it was Boris, there would be no point in having come all this way.

As he hesitated, the opponent slashed at the air with his weapon. It was an attack aimed squarely at his neck. Kwon Taekjoo leaned back, dodging the repeated knife strikes. Meanwhile, a shadow near the doorway occasionally caught his eye.

A tall figure, nearly two meters, standing casually with his arms crossed. An indifferent attitude, observing the scene where a sharp blade almost touched his partner’s neck. No matter how he looked at it, it was Zhenya. At his feet, silhouettes believed to be mafia members were piled up. It seemed he had had all the fun he wanted, but he wasn’t coming to help.

In a moment of distraction, the blade came towards his abdomen. He parried the blade with the barrel of his Colt, then pulled the trigger at the opponent’s knee.

“…Keuk!”

With a clear gunshot, the opponent collapsed. His groaning voice resembled Boris’s. Kwon Taekjoo took a breath and removed his goggles. Meanwhile, blood from his arm beaded on his fingertips and fell to the floor. The amount flowing increased with time. He would need to stop the bleeding immediately.

Kwon Taekjoo rummaged through his pocket, then quietly said “Ah.” He remembered he had given his handkerchief to Zhenya. Having no choice, he took off his dust-stained jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Only then did Zhenya leisurely approach him.

“That was dangerous. If you get a hole in your stomach, you won’t be able to get laid for at least a month.”

Oh, really?

He shook his head, focusing on unbuttoning his shirt. Perhaps his fumbling with one hand annoyed him. Zhenya, who had been watching with his arms crossed, said, “It’ll be morning by then,” then slapped Kwon Taekjoo’s hand away. He then began unbuttoning it himself. He had feigned ignorance when help was genuinely needed, but now he was volunteering unnecessary kindness.

He sarcastically raised his left arm, from which blood was dripping.

“So touching, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

He smiled innocently despite the obvious sarcasm. It no longer surprised him.

With a displeased expression, he urged, “Are you almost done?” Zhenya gave no particular reply. He was so quiet that Kwon Taekjoo looked at him, puzzled, only to see him meticulously focusing on unbuttoning a single button. He was so concentrated that his eyes wouldn’t leave his fingertips as he slowly twisted the button off.

“That’s enough.”

He shook off the annoying hand and swiftly pulled off his shirt. The recoil sent the last unbuttoned button flying. Unconcerned, he wrapped the half-removed shirt around his profusely bleeding left arm a couple of times. He bit the end of the sleeve with his teeth and tied a firm knot. Such things were common when performing missions alone.

After simply stopping the bleeding, he approached Boris. Boris was dragging his unnaturally twisted leg, going to pick up a gun. Kwon Taekjoo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and seated him back in the chair. He pulled Boris’s arms behind the backrest and securely handcuffed them. Then, he hooked his foot around the chair leg and abruptly tipped him backward.

With a thud, the chair fell. A heavy groan escaped Boris. Kwon Taekjoo righted the chair again. Then, he repeated the same action three or four times.

Despite being repeatedly slammed to the ground, Boris remained unfazed. Instead, he simply scoffed at Kwon Taekjoo. Kwon Taekjoo suddenly grabbed him by the hair. Even with his head completely tilted back, Boris let out a displeased laugh.

“Do you think this will make me talk?”

“Time will tell.”

Kwon Taekjoo also forced a smile. He then walked over to a computer tucked away in a corner of the wall. He sifted through the discarded equipment and pulled out an old keyboard. Then he slammed it against the wall, separating the individual keys. He grabbed a handful of the scattered keys and returned to Boris. Then, he forcibly opened Boris’s mouth and shoved all the keys he was holding inside.

Boris’s cheeks immediately puffed out. Kwon Taekjoo firmly taped his lips shut, in case anything spilled out. Zhenya watched the scene with interest from a distance.

Kwon Taekjoo, having finished his preparations, slowly circled Boris.

“They say a North Korean engineer is coming to fix the SS-29’s problem, right? I heard he’d arrive today or tomorrow, but where can I meet him?”

“…”

Boris was motionless. Kwon Taekjoo bent down to meet his eye level. There was no discernible emotion in his jet-black eyes. Boris also glared at Kwon Taekjoo with bloodshot eyes. Kwon Taekjoo suddenly slapped his bulging cheek. Boris’s composed face twisted in pain. It was because the keys filling his mouth mixed together, causing intense agony. Just imagining how it would feel to be hit with a fist was enough to make him shudder in excruciating pain.

But Boris stubbornly kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t a big shot of ‘Soncheff’ for nothing. Kwon Taekjoo straightened his previously tilted body. Boris quietly took a breath. At that moment, Kwon Taekjoo punched him in the face. Boris’s entire body trembled from the pain that turned his vision yellow. Even with his mouth completely filled, a scream-like groan escaped him.

He grabbed Boris’s cheeks tightly as he writhed in pain. Boris’s complexion turned even paler. Kwon Taekjoo asked him, “Feeling like talking now?” He adamantly shook his head. His eyes were filled with venom. At that point, Kwon Taekjoo’s face also grew chilling. Zhenya, who was watching, chuckled.

His rock-hard fist mercilessly pummeled Boris. Finally, Boris’s head drooped. Saliva and blood oozed messily from his tightly sealed mouth. When Kwon Taekjoo peeled off the tape, Boris’s lips parted limply. Bloody plastic keys and teeth poured out from the gap.

“I’ll ask again. Who is the engineer coming to fix the SS-29, and what is his destination?”

At the relentless interrogation, Boris grinned. Then, he suddenly spat. Bloody saliva splattered near Kwon Taekjoo’s eyes. Kwon Taekjoo didn’t bother to wipe it off. He simply picked up Boris’s knife, which had fallen to the floor.

“Why don’t you step outside?”

He suggested indifferently to Zhenya. It was a form of consideration and advice.

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

After he had gone to the trouble of considering him, the bastard just grinned. His curved eyes brimmed with the expectation of someone about to enjoy an interesting spectacle.

“Fine, then,” he thought, and walked towards Boris. Boris, breathing heavily, glared at Kwon Taekjoo approaching. His gaze alone seemed to have torn him to shreds more than ten times over. And that was after his spirit had already been broken. It seemed he had no choice but to use his final method.

“Indian warriors hunt as many enemies as possible to prove their bravery. Their methods are known for their cruelty. They inflict terrible pain until the moment of death. Compared to them, slaughtering by cleanly severing the head from the body could almost be called humane. Because it’s only momentary pain. They say they scalp their enemies alive?”

He muttered grimly, stroking Boris’s forehead upwards. His hair went back, revealing a clear forehead. He drew the knife he was holding across it.

“…Argh!”

Boris’s bound body squirmed from the pain of his flesh being cut. It wasn’t an unbearable pain. A small amount of blood seeped from the wound made by the blade.

“They say they make a small incision on the forehead, just enough for two fingers to fit, then slowly tear the scalp off? Most people usually die from shock before the scalping is complete, don’t they? They say it’s pain incomparable to being shot, or cut, or having bones broken.”

A chilling smile touched Kwon Taekjoo’s lips. Zhenya’s interest reached its peak. Boris felt fear for the first time in his life at the impending ordeal.

“Aaaah!”

Soon, a tearing scream echoed throughout the building.

The closed warehouse door opened. Unlike Kwon Taekjoo, who looked clearly displeased, Zhenya seemed entirely amused. He stayed annoyingly close to him on the way to the car.

“Were you really going to scalp him?”

“…I’m dying from this unsettling feeling.”

Ignoring Zhenya’s question, he rubbed his right hand repeatedly on his pants. He kept doing it even though the blood had long since been wiped off. Zhenya, oblivious, prattled on.

“You were pretty sexy earlier, weren’t you? I was in quite a dangerous spot. My bottom was stiff.”

“If you do that again, tell me immediately, okay? Because I’d be happy to scalp you anytime.”

He gritted his teeth and snarled. In a fit of anger, he yanked Zhenya’s collar as well. The handsome face was pulled close to his. Zhenya’s blue eyes slowly rolled, taking in Kwon Taekjoo’s eyes, and then his hand. It was a disturbing movement, like a reptile’s eyeballs.

He frowned, staring blankly, when Zhenya casually knocked away the hand gripping his collar. It was brief, but the skin that had touched him was as cold as ice. Kwon Taekjoo involuntarily flinched and slapped his hand away. Despite the blatant avoidance, which might have been embarrassing, Zhenya chuckled mischievously as if nothing had happened.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?”

Instead of answering, he nodded. “Then let’s go,” Zhenya said, and quickly walked ahead. His back swayed as if he were humming. Kwon Taekjoo stood there, watching him intently.

He would occasionally turn serious, then, if the other person noticed, he would pretend otherwise and laugh it off. He feigned being a hearty man, but every now and then, he would unreservedly reveal his true self. He was a destructive person. A dangerously monstrous being who reveled in abnormal interests.

Just a sliver. For Zhenya, the boundary between normal and abnormal was just a sliver. His unconscious habit of tearing down walls only to quickly rebuild them was entirely due to that.

His instincts, smarter than his brain, kept shaking their head.