BENEATH THE SURFACE

act vii: Reckoning

Flashback: Operation Itaewon

The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the clock as Sandara stood at the front of the briefing room, scanning the officers seated before her. The weight of the case hung heavy in the air. They were about to take down Kang-in, one of Itaewon’s most notorious gang leaders—wanted for the murder of a patrol officer during a failed drug bust.

Losing a fellow officer was never taken lightly. They all knew the risks that came with their badges, but when one of their own was taken out, it became personal.

Dara cleared her throat, adjusting her stance. "We move in swift and silent. We take him alive—no exceptions. We want him talking. The objective is to bring him in and dismantle his network from the inside. Understood?"

A chorus of affirmations followed. She turned toward Youngbae, who sat attentively, his usual calm and polite demeanor present.

She frowned. "Where’s your good-for-nothing partner?"

Youngbae gave her a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sergeant, he’s already in the area where Kang-in is hiding."

Dara closed her eyes, exhaling sharply through her nose. "That counts as insubordination, does he even know that?"

Youngbae bowed slightly, knowing there was no excuse that would satisfy her. "I’ll make sure he knows, Sergeant."

Dara muttered under her breath, frustration seeping into her voice as she continued to rant about Jiyong’s misconduct. He had built quite the reputation over the years—he was reckless, disobedient, and worst of all, unbothered by it. His rumored ties to the Triads and his under-the-table activities made him one of the most hated officers in the department. But the one thing keeping him untouchable? He got results.

Meanwhile, Jiyong sat alone in his car, parked in a dark alley just a few streets away from Kang-in’s hideout. He had been staking out the area for seventy-two hours, watching Kang-in’s movements, waiting for the right moment.

He wasn’t dressed like a cop. Far from it. His deep blue Versace button-down was unbuttoned enough to expose part of his chest, a thick Cuban link chain resting against his skin, a custom-made, diamond-encrusted Seoul Police Department emblem hanging from it like a contradiction to his existence. He never hid his red tape. He flaunted it.

Jiyong cracked his knuckles against the steering wheel. The officer that Kang-in had murdered wasn’t just any cop—it was one of Jiyong’s juniors from the academy. The bastard wouldn’t make it to trial. That much he had decided. His plan was simple—gun Kang-in down before the division arrived, make it look like a shootout, and be done with it.

His phone buzzed on the dashboard. An unknown number. He lazily picked it up, answering with his usual irritation.

"If this is another phishing call, I swear to f*****g Christ in heaven I will hunt you down and f**k you in every hole you have in your body."

"KWON JIYONG!"

The voice was sharp, authoritative. A woman.

Jiyong straightened slightly. He knew that voice. He may or may not have fantasized about that voice moaning his name more times than he’d care to admit.

A slow smirk spread across his face. "Yes, ma’am."

"Where the hell are you? This is an operation by your own division, and yet you are not present in the briefing."

Jiyong leaned back against his seat, letting the delight from hearing her voice settle in his chest. "If I attended the briefing, would you consider a date with me, Ma’am?"

"Kwon, I am not joking. I can file an insubordination case against you."

Jiyong chuckled, low and amused. "Ma’am, I’m afraid that all the intel you’re holding right now came from me. But go ahead, be my guest, file the case—it just means I get to see you regularly during the internal investigation." He licked his lips. "Admit it, you got the hots for me too, Sergeant."

On the other end of the line, Sandara let out an irritated sigh. "Just do not f*****g do anything stupid before we arrive. We’re on our way."

Jiyong laughed teasingly. "Are you worried about me? Is Sergeant Park worried about Kwon Jiyong now?"

She ignored his teasing, repeating her order more firmly this time. "Do not do anything rash."

Jiyong glanced at Kang-in’s hideout, fingers tapping against his knee. His voice lost its teasing edge. "If I get shot at, I won’t hold back."

There was a warning in his tone. He meant it.

He got out of the car, adjusting the gun in his holster. "I’ll save your number, Sergeant."

And with that, he ended the call.

Present Day

Jiyong watched Yongbae as he stepped out of the car, the weight of unspoken words between them stretching the silence. Dara sat frozen in the passenger seat, her fingers curled tightly against her lap.

The past had come crashing back into the present.

And none of them knew if they were ready for what came next.

Jiyong and Yongbae walked towards the car where Sandara was seated. Her eyes darted between the two of them, her hand brushing against the gun in her holster. Jiyong, sensing her wariness, smirked as he opened the driver’s side door.

"You’re not supposed to shoot someone who could help, Sergeant."

Sandara rolled her eyes, her grip tightening. "Stop calling me that."

Jiyong chuckled, sliding into the driver’s seat. "Why? Does it hurt your feelings that you didn’t get the lieutenant position?"

Sandara scoffed, crossing her arms as Youngbae took the backseat. "You’re insufferable."

Jiyong shot her a teasing grin before turning to glance at Yongbae through the rearview mirror. "Nice seeing you again, partner."

Yongbae merely nodded, his face unreadable.

Sandara exhaled deeply, staring ahead at the dimly lit road. "So, are we just going to pretend we don’t have a dead man walking ahead of us?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Jiyong drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Not unless you’ve suddenly got a change of heart."

Youngbae leaned forward slightly. "We need to be smart about this. If we make the wrong move, we’re all as good as dead."

Jiyong smirked, but his eyes darkened. "That’s the fun part, isn’t it?"

The air inside the car was thick—an odd mix of familiarity and hostility. They weren’t sure whether this reunion would lead to salvation—or destruction.