Codename Anastasia Novel (End) - Chapter 72 (Side Story - Normal Days)

The Night in Las Vegas

They say the night in Las Vegas is more beautiful than the day. As the sun set, the sleeping city began to awaken. The luxury hotels lining Main Street flaunted their presence with flamboyant lights and neon signs. Everywhere the eye could reach, a colorful feast of light unfolded – streetlights, bridges, guardrails, billboards, palm trees, and giant screens. Cars lined the streets, spewing dazzling headlights, and countless crowds poured onto the sidewalks. Music flowed everywhere, and colorful lasers and colossal fountain streams painted the pitch-black sky. People, dressed to the nines, savored the spectacle at atmospheric restaurants and bars while enjoying dinner, shopping, and queuing for various shows. No kaleidoscope could have been more lavish.

At the pinnacle of this surreal world, there was a place where millions, even tens of millions, of dollars evaporated like a mirage overnight. The casinos, with their glittering golden mouths agape, swallowed the surging crowds. Some came out of casual interest, others endlessly dreaming of the jackpot of a lifetime.

The dazzling lights and chaotic melodies streaming from hundreds of slot machines, the pungent tobacco smoke, the trapped scent of alcohol in the air, the guards’ stern surveillance, the Babel of languages mixing at every table, and the sharp clink of chips piercing through all other noise. The flood of stimuli quickly numbed the senses and clouded reason. One could easily lose self-control and become engrossed solely in the game.

The casino thoroughly exploited human psychology. They removed clocks and windows to dull the sense of reality and paid considerable attention to table arrangement. The higher the betting amount, the deeper inside the table was located.

At the high-stakes tables, experienced dealers ran the games, and most players were regulars, not fleeting visitors, but tycoons. To consistently attract them, customized services were provided. Whenever they visited, the pit boss, the manager in charge of the establishment, would greet them, and drinks would be prepared considering each customer’s preferences. With large sums of money changing hands, surveillance was even more thorough. That was why it was harder to infiltrate than any tactical operation base.

Kwon Taekjoo was shuffling cards at one table. He wore a name tag on his chest, identifying him as ‘Philip,’ a 10-year veteran dealer and Chinese-American. Due to his special disguise, his appearance was no different from Philip’s. This was to approach the particularly wary target naturally.

The table he was in charge of was in the midst of a ‘Blackjack’ game. Blackjack is a card game that can be simple if you want it to be, or infinitely complex. The dealer and players randomly receive cards, and the side whose total sum is closer to 21 wins. However, if the total sum of cards exceeds 21, resulting in a ‘bust,’ one automatically loses regardless of the opponent’s hand.

Of the four customers seated, none had busted. The sum of their cards varied from 13 to 19. Now it was Kwon Taekjoo’s turn, as the dealer, to open his hand. The already revealed card was a ‘3.’ Since the number was small, the possibility of busting was high, as the dealer had to keep drawing additional cards until the total sum exceeded 17. The players watched the hidden card with nervous eyes.

“Opening the hidden card.”

He flipped the remaining card. When a ‘7’ appeared, a strange sigh escaped the players. If the next card to be added were an ‘A,’ a blackjack would be completed, and the dealer would collect all the stakes. Even if a ‘10’ card or a face card like ‘J,’ ‘Q,’ ‘K’ came out, the total sum would be 20, making it a dealer’s win. Although Blackjack was typically a 1:1 game between the dealer and each player, everyone at the table hoped in unison for a ‘6’ or lower.

Following the rules, he drew one more card. It was immediately opened and placed next to the existing cards. It was a ‘5’ card. The total sum was still 16 or less, so he had to take one more card. The players now clenched their fists, muttering “bust” like a spell, their gazes fixed solely on Kwon Taekjoo’s hands.

He drew one more card. Until it was flipped and placed down, the tension at the table reached its peak. Shattering one player’s desperate hopes, a ‘6’ card appeared. In order, 3, 7, 5, 6. Unbelievably, 21 was completed.

“Blackjack.”

Declaring another victory, he collected all the chips on the table. The disappointed players leaned back.

“As expected, Asians are so strict.”

Someone complained openly while smoking. They were unsociable and would rather die than lose, it seemed. It was a complaint he had heard constantly for three days. People who visit casinos often have a common misconception. That if they become friendly with the dealer, they might get a bit of a break, or if they win the psychological battle, the game will turn in their favor. Unfortunately, all games purely follow probability. The more times you play, the lower the probability of winning consecutively. Becoming friendly with the dealer wouldn’t change anything.

Players who had lost more money soon left the table one by one. An elderly man, who had stayed at the table until the end, flicked his remaining chips over. He was the owner of a large shipping company, and his tips were always generous.

“Philip. It might seem practical to dominate the game now, but to play the long game, you occasionally have to lose. If you keep winning, who would sit at your table?”

Well, it’s not that easy.

He wanted to retort but suppressed it, bowing his head.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Please visit again if you think of it.”

The man chuckled, seemingly amused that Kwon Taekjoo would ask him to return after sweeping his money. But perhaps, he would indeed seek out Kwon Taekjoo’s table again tomorrow. People with an unusual desire for victory are not satisfied until they finally win. As he too left the casino, the table was temporarily empty.

It was about time for her to appear.

“Alone again? Did you win everything again today?”

While he was tidying the table, the awaited voice was heard. He looked up and saw a middle-aged woman smiling broadly. She took the middle seat, saying, “I guess I’ll have to play with you.”

Her name was Chiara Jang. She said she was involved in a fashion-related trading business in Italy. She was born in China but had lived almost entirely in Italy, it was said. During their games, she would casually mention that she had married a local man 10 years ago, that they had no children, and that perhaps because of this, their marital relationship was distant.

All of it was a lie. Chiara Jang’s nationality was North Korean, not Chinese. Her real name was Choi Yeonhwa, and for nearly 20 years, while residing in Italy, she had been in charge of North Korea’s European slush funds. The scale of the illicit funds she managed reportedly amounted to trillions of won, an impossible feat without the trust of the party leadership.

However, like other North Korean elites, she, too, seemed to have undergone a gradual ideological shift. Her long overseas life broadened her horizons and expanded her thinking, leading to deep disillusionment with the stagnant North Korean regime that had been stuck for decades. Then, a large-scale purge followed the hereditary succession of the leader, and when even her relatives and colleagues, who had been obedient to the party, were executed, she finally decided to defect.

South Korea and the United States, who had been discussing and cooperating on the issue with Italy, did not provide any information related to Choi Yeonhwa immediately after her defection. This was for her personal safety. That was already several years ago.

The National Intelligence Service only recently began tracking Choi Yeonhwa. This was due to intelligence indicating that a social organization closely linked to domestic political forces had created a massive slush fund and transferred it to North Korea. According to the intelligence, these funds were laundered in various European countries before being delivered to North Korea, so Choi Yeonhwa would surely know the details. If it was merely funding for a pro-North Korean group, that would be one thing, but if political circles had paid a price to gain some advantage, it was crucial to thoroughly identify who was involved and what their objectives were.

North Korea, too, was desperate to apprehend Choi Yeonhwa. It wasn’t merely because of the hundreds of billions of won in illicit funds she had embezzled when she went into hiding. The moment she opened her mouth, everything from secret accounts hidden across Europe to the methods, sources, and laundering techniques of the funds would be exposed. If the secret accounts were frozen as part of sanctions against North Korea, the North Korean government would have no way to procure dollars.

Perhaps anticipating this, Choi Yeonhwa underwent full plastic surgery immediately after her defection. With the active assistance of the Italian government, her identity was also completely transformed into ‘Chiara Jang.’ The claim of having a local husband was not false; it was just unclear whether the marriage was merely on paper or a genuine relationship.

After a long period of seclusion in Italy, Choi Yeonhwa had recently started frequenting casinos in Las Vegas. Perhaps she was diligently acting as ‘Chiara Jang,’ a successful businesswoman disillusioned with her marriage. Or perhaps, in a place where one loses oneself to gambling, she deliberately wished to cast aside her true self.

A crucial point to remember for this operation was that no physical confrontation should occur. Choi Yeonhwa was now an Italian citizen, which could lead to unnecessary diplomatic friction. Moreover, if it became known that she had contacted South Korea in any way, North Korea would become even more desperate to eliminate her. They could not inconvenience an important informant.

They sought methods to approach her as naturally as possible. The problem was that Choi Yeonhwa’s wariness towards strangers would be considerable. Her plainclothes bodyguards were also hidden throughout the casino, posing as customers. The operation had to be handled as quietly and cleanly as possible.

This was why he had suddenly disguised himself as a dealer. To dispel Choi Yeonhwa’s suspicion, it seemed better to have her approach him rather than for him to approach her first. So, for four days, he had disguised himself as ‘Philip,’ the dealer, and waited for her. Due to the strict surveillance inherent in the establishment, he couldn’t let his guard down for a moment. Even when she didn’t appear, he dealt with other customers, draining his energy.

Choi Yeonhwa came down to play games every day around 2 AM. He didn’t try to be overly friendly or engage in premature conversation. Instead, she showed interest in herself.

“Are you going to lose a bit today?”

“May fortune be with you.”

She pouted at his purely business-like response. He didn’t mind and shuffled the cards, saying he would proceed.

At high-stakes tables, hand-shuffling was the rule. This was to prevent suspicions of manipulating the game with machines. Because of this, he had practiced handling the cards, precisely mimicking Philip’s habits, for countless nights.

Soon, the table waitress approached.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Choi Yeonhwa declined all services offered by the casino. It seemed that self-control was ingrained in her. Lest her refusal seem strange, she added a remark:

“Is this part of the casino’s business strategy too? To make people bet all their money when they’re drunk?”

“Of course not. It’s merely a service we offer to our esteemed guests. If you don’t care for alcohol, we also have water or other beverages.”

“Thanks for your consideration, but I’m a bit sensitive to changes in water.”

“I see,” he said, alternatingly dealing the cards. Choi Yeonhwa subtly hunched her shoulders, making a mischievous expression. Her fingers, toying with the chips, had an oddly seductive quality.

“But having a drink with Philip would be a different story.”

“Drinking is prohibited while on duty.”

“I didn’t say it had to be right now.”

She subtly left room for interpretation. As their eyes met, she even slightly crinkled hers. Was she trying to seduce him? It was somewhat unexpected, as there hadn’t been any particular atmosphere between them until now.

“Why, don’t you like it?”

“It’s my first time being asked on a date by a customer.”

“Liar.”

“No more bets? Opening the hidden card.”

“You’re so stoic.”

She openly grumbled. He had observed her for days, but Choi Yeonhwa had always been alone. No one visited her room either. Even when she ate, she was always by herself. She could easily find a man to spend time with, but she didn’t.

He couldn’t understand why she was suddenly hinting at something like that. Of course, she had consistently shown friendliness ever since she learned ‘Philip’ was Chinese-American. But he thought even that was part of her act.

If Choi Yeonhwa was sincere, there was no reason for him to refuse. It would eliminate the troublesome need to approach her. He wasn’t particularly averse to that kind of thing from the start anyway. He could lead the mood, and if things didn’t work out, he could use a truth serum to extract the necessary information. But he wasn’t convinced yet. He decided to observe her a little longer.

The sum of Choi Yeonhwa’s cards was 17. The card laid before Kwon Taekjoo was a ‘9’ card. He flipped the hidden card next to it. When an ‘A’ appeared, Choi Yeonhwa’s shoulders slumped.

“Agh, I lost. My honey trap didn’t work?”

“Blackjack isn’t a psychological game.”

“Are you perhaps gay?”

He chuckled faintly, collecting the chips. Choi Yeonhwa pondered, then suddenly leaned forward. She then meticulously scrutinized Kwon Taekjoo’s face. There was no way his highly specialized disguise would be seen through, but the blatant stare made him inevitably tense.

“I don’t know if you’re gay, but you seem gentle. I have a preference for well-behaved, demure men.”

“I see.”

“You can’t tell just by looking.”

Just then, someone suddenly interjected into their conversation. Choi Yeonhwa turned her head in surprise. Kwon Taekjoo also flinched, frowning. The voice was all too familiar. A distinct scent, which he hadn’t noticed while focusing on Choi Yeonhwa, also wafted over. He looked up, wondering, and saw Zhenya leisurely approaching the table.

Why is he here?

His cheeks involuntarily stiffened in shock.

“What do you mean, demure? He’d be perfect for a Chippendales show.”

He scanned Kwon Taekjoo up and down, adding another remark. Choi Yeonhwa burst into hearty laughter, as if she thought it was a playful joke. Zhenya, already striking with his nearly 2-meter height and unnecessarily flashy looks, was dressed inappropriately for a casino. He looked like a white peacock, drawing constant glances from those around him. As a result, unwanted attention was drawn to the table.

He unhesitatingly pulled out the chair next to Choi Yeonhwa and sat down.

“May I join?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve rented the place out.”

Choi Yeonhwa readily nodded. She gave Kwon Taekjoo a peculiar, knowing smile, seemingly thinking his stiffness was purely due to annoyance.

And so it was, the ‘Chippendales show’ was one of Las Vegas’s signature attractions, featuring muscular male strippers performing various routines for female audiences. But ‘Philip’ possessed a very ordinary physique. For a regular woman, being told she’d be good for a strip show could easily be taken as sexual harassment rather than a compliment. Would it be any different for a man?

“You’d better be careful. He doesn’t like to lose.”

At Choi Yeonhwa’s whispered warning, Zhenya chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on Kwon Taekjoo. Their eyes met again. Kwon Taekjoo wanted to demand why he, who should have been safely in Korea, had appeared, but he had to regain his composure.

“It’s no fun if you win too easily. I’m curious to see how aggressive he’ll be.”

He taunted provocatively. Kwon Taekjoo felt the artificial skin pulling on his face but maintained his poker face.

“Welcome.”

“Philip? That name doesn’t suit you.”

Was he truly intent on ruining everything, constantly picking fights? Ignoring him, Kwon Taekjoo continued to shuffle the cards.

“Chinese? Japanese? Or… Korean?”

He drew the words, probing. Kwon Taekjoo stopped his hands and looked at Zhenya again. He merely smiled with a brazen expression. Choi Yeonhwa looked back and forth between them, sensing a strange power struggle. Then she shrugged and added,

“Hmm. I guess all East Asians look alike to Westerners? To an East Asian, he looks Chinese, though.”

“Really? Somehow, he resembles a Korean I know.”

This bastard, is he really testing my patience?

Both sides of his jaw tightened. Zhenya merely raised his eyebrows, as if he had done nothing wrong. When the usually stoic ‘Philip’ showed a rare flicker of agitation, Choi Yeonhwa giggled.

“There are times when people get confused.”

She added advice, as if defending Kwon Taekjoo.

“Still, it’s rude to just call someone Chinese, Japanese, or Korean. Many people get offended due to the complex history involved.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. He really does seem upset.”

He continued to tease to the very end. If he could, he would have grabbed Zhenya by the collar and shaken him repeatedly right then.

Since settling in Korea, Zhenya had constantly appeared at Kwon Taekjoo’s operation sites. It was useless to tell him not to follow, as his status could lead to diplomatic friction. He would always appear as if on cue, obstructing Kwon Taekjoo. No, looking at the results, he consistently delivered Kwon Taekjoo’s targets, so it wasn’t entirely an obstruction. But it was also awkward to call it help. He always threw a wrench in the works, just like now.

With his unparalleled looks and physique, he seemed oblivious that he stood out everywhere, simply strutting around the scene. He didn’t disguise his identity like Kwon Taekjoo. It was as if he was advertising for everyone to recognize who he was. Indeed, ever since he appeared, Choi Yeonhwa’s senses had been acutely focused on him.

He knew Zhenya was always spying on him. It was useless to warn him not to, or to even create a separate work account. As if he had a wiretap implanted somewhere on his body, Zhenya would miraculously show up at any operation site. It happened so often that now, if he didn’t appear, it felt more awkward and unsettling. He never knew what he was up to or where.

Of course, there haven’t been any major problems so far. Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake off his worry. Because whenever Zhenya intervened, force was always used. An unprecedented anxiety began to amplify within him.

Suddenly, a knocking on the table brought him back to his senses. Unbeknownst to him, Choi Yeonhwa and Zhenya were staring at him.

“Cards, aren’t you giving them?”

“Ah, I apologize.”

He quickly finished shuffling the cards. While moving his hands habitually, he pondered how to navigate this predicament. His head throbbed.

“Card for player.”

He dealt one card each to Choi Yeonhwa and Zhenya. They received an ‘8’ card and a ‘Q’ card, respectively. He then placed one for himself.

“Card for bankers.”

The first card was an ‘A’ card. Choi Yeonhwa exclaimed, “Look at that,” in exasperation.

“Insurance?”

When the dealer’s open card is an ‘A,’ it is advantageous for the dealer, so they ask if the player wants to buy a kind of insurance. If you have insurance, even if you lose, you only pay half of your betting amount. However, if the player wins, they receive 1.5 times the amount back.

Both of them shook their heads. He handed out one more card to each. Choi Yeonhwa’s card was a ‘9,’ and Zhenya’s was an ‘A.’ A blackjack was completed instantly.

“Wow? That actually happened?”

Choi Yeonhwa couldn’t hide her surprise. If Kwon Taekjoo also achieved a blackjack, they would tie, and no money would be exchanged. In such a situation, one could receive 1x the betting amount back first.

“Even money?”

Zhenya still shook his head. His usual behavior notwithstanding, he was recklessly audacious even when gambling. Kwon Taekjoo immediately flipped the hidden card. A ‘6’ card appeared. It was Zhenya’s victory.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”

Declaring Zhenya’s victory, he took chips from the bank and handed them over. Zhenya’s lips curved slightly upwards. There are times to win and times to lose, but it just irked him unnecessarily.

He shuffled the cards and started a new game. Both of Zhenya’s cards were ‘9’s. Kwon Taekjoo’s open card was a ‘Q’ card. At this point, the dealer had to check the remaining card with a reader and inform the player whether it was a blackjack.

“No blackjack.”

Zhenya tapped the table with his index and middle fingers, signaling a ‘split.’ Perhaps it was because his fingers were long. The gesture seemed particularly elegant. So much so that he found himself staring. Choi Yeonhwa’s declaration to give up the game brought him back to reality.

He split Zhenya’s ‘9’ cards into two, and dealt one more card to each. An ‘A’ card and a ‘3’ card appeared, making totals of 20 and 12. Zhenya hit on the 12. A ‘7’ card was added, completing a total of 19.

Choi Yeonhwa, who had been watching, gasped in surprise. At that moment, her eyes met Zhenya’s. He subtly crinkled his eyes, observing Kwon Taekjoo’s expression. It wasn’t his money, and he didn’t care how much he lost. It was clear that, and yet, an unnecessary anger flared within him.

“Would you like to bet more?”

“The game is too loose, to make it interesting, I should bet big, right?”

He smoothly uttered, pushing a stack of chips for each hand. It seemed like at least $100,000 each. Choi Yeonhwa watched his provocation with interest.

He flipped the hidden card. It was a ‘6’ card. The sum of the cards was only 16, so he took one more. An ‘8’ card came out, making the sum of the three cards well over 21.

“Bust.”

“Oh, really?”

Zhenya chuckled. Was it just his own insecurity that made it feel like a sneer?

“It’s no fun if you keep winning.”

He flared up but didn’t show it. He squeezed out every ounce of his patience. Zhenya, who was fully aware of Kwon Taekjoo’s state, merely smiled.

Several more games proceeded after that. Zhenya showed no sign of leaving. More and more chips piled up in front of him. In 10 games, he took the pot 6 or 7 times in a row. Due to the one-sided game, the pit boss approached and monitored the table. This was because cheating or collusion between players, or between players and the dealer, occasionally occurred to rip off the casino. This only added to Kwon Taekjoo’s burden.

It was just a game of chance, yet he kept getting entangled. How could someone keep winning like this without cheating? Was he born with extraordinary luck?

Zhenya’s continuous wins once again drew attention from those around. Even Choi Yeonhwa half-abandoned her own game and focused on him. Every time their eyes met, he would savagely glower at Zhenya, silently telling him to leave. Zhenya feigned ignorance. When Kwon Taekjoo even subtly tilted his head, Zhenya lifted his eyebrows, displaying a brazen expression.