Fate in the Rain

The Voice Above

The helicopter’s roar thundered over Busan’s urban sprawl, its searchlight slicing through the dawn mist, pinning the battered sedan as Choi Dong-hyun’s voice boomed through the megaphone: “Soo-jin, you’ve gone far enough. Surrender now, or everyone you love dies.” Kang Min-jae’s heart slammed against his ribs, his hand gripping Choi Soo-jin’s as they crouched in the back of Kim Seo-yeon’s car, the journalist weaving through Busan’s narrow alleys. Soo-jin’s backpack, heavy with the USB drive, documents, and the safe’s salvaged evidence, sat between them, a ticking bomb of truth that could topple her father’s empire—or destroy them all.Soo-jin’s face was pale, her eyes glistening with a mix of fear and defiance as she stared out the window, the helicopter’s light casting stark shadows. “He’s here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “My father. He never shows himself unless he’s desperate.”Min-jae’s mind raced, the weight of their journey—from Seoul’s rain-soaked streets to Busan’s coastal chaos—pressing down. Hye-jin, Soo-jin’s mother, sat in the front, her arm bloodied from the café shootout, her auburn hair matted with sweat. Lee Min-soo, her uncle, slumped beside her, his shoulder wound leaking through a makeshift bandage, his confession—“I helped him, years ago”—still raw. The letter from Hye-jin to Min-jae’s mother, Eun-ji, had tied their pasts to this moment, but Choi Dong-hyun’s voice above was a chilling reminder of the empire they were up against.Kim Seo-yeon’s hands were steady on the wheel, her sharp eyes flicking to the rearview. “We’re almost there,” she said, her voice calm but urgent. “My office is two blocks away. It’s secure—encrypted servers, off-grid. I can upload the evidence, get it to prosecutors and the press before he stops us.”Min-jae’s gut twisted. The helicopter’s light followed, its blades chopping the air, and the memory of Joon-ho and Lee Soo-kyung’s pursuit gnawed at him. Han’s sacrifice at the pier, Ji-hoon’s silenced shout—every loss weighed heavier with Choi Dong-hyun’s presence. “Can you outrun that?” he asked Seo-yeon, nodding to the sky.She smirked, a glint of defiance in her eyes. “I’ve dodged worse,” she said, swerving into a side street, the sedan’s tires screeching. The helicopter’s light wavered, losing them in the maze of high-rises and neon signs advertising Busan’s nightlife—K-pop bars, seafood stalls, and 24-hour PC bangs.Soo-jin’s hand tightened on Min-jae’s, her voice low. “If my father’s here, Joon-ho and Soo-kyung aren’t far. They’ll block us before we reach the office.”Min-jae nodded, his eyes scanning the alley. “We need a backup,” he said. “If we can’t get to the office, we need another way to release the evidence.”Hye-jin turned, her face grim but resolute. “There’s a radio station nearby,” she said. “Independent, run by an old friend. If Seo-yeon can’t upload, they can broadcast the recordings. It’s not ideal, but it’ll get the truth out.”Min-soo coughed, his voice weak. “She’s right,” he said. “But your father—he’ll burn the city to stop you. I know, because I helped him cover worse.”Soo-jin’s eyes flashed, her voice sharp. “Stop saying that,” she snapped. “You betrayed us, uncle. You worked for him. How do I know you’re not still playing his game?”Min-soo’s face crumpled, pain and guilt etched in his scars. “I was young, stupid,” he said. “I thought I was protecting Hye-jin, our family. When I saw the truth—his deals with gangs, the lives he ruined—I turned. That’s why I hid the evidence, why I ran. I’m trying to make it right, Soo-jin.”Hye-jin’s hand rested on his, her voice soft. “He’s telling the truth, Soo-jin. He saved me when your father turned on us. We’ve been fighting him ever since—for you.”Soo-jin’s eyes glistened, her resolve wavering. Min-jae squeezed her hand, his own grief for his mother, Eun-ji, mingling with hers. “We’re close,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ll finish what they started. Together.”The sedan screeched to a stop outside a nondescript building, its sign reading “Busan Free Press” in faded Hangul. Seo-yeon leapt out, the backpack slung over her shoulder. “Inside, now,” she said, unlocking a side door. The helicopter’s light swept nearby, its roar fading as it circled wider, likely searching the wrong street.They piled into the office, a cramped space filled with computers, files, and the faint hum of servers. Seo-yeon locked the door, her hands flying over a keyboard. “Give me the drive,” she said to Soo-jin. “I’ll start the upload—encrypted channels to Seoul prosecutors and international outlets.”Soo-jin hesitated, her eyes flicking to Hye-jin and Min-soo. “What’s on it?” she asked. “The recordings—what do they say?”Min-soo’s voice was hoarse. “Your father’s voice, arranging payoffs, threatening rivals. My voice, too, from when I worked for him. And… evidence of what happened to Eun-ji.”Min-jae’s breath caught, his mother’s name a wound reopened. “What happened to her?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Soo-kyung was there, wasn’t she?”Min-soo nodded, his eyes haunted. “She was his enforcer. Eun-ji found proof of his smuggling—drugs, weapons, tied to Incheon gangs. She was going to the police. Soo-kyung… she made it look like a heart attack.”Min-jae’s fists clenched, rage and grief surging. Soo-jin’s hand found his, her touch grounding him. “We’ll make them pay,” she whispered, her voice fierce. She handed the USB drive to Seo-yeon, who plugged it in, her screen filling with files—audio clips, scanned contracts, bank records.The upload began, a progress bar creeping across the screen, but a crash outside shattered the silence. The door rattled, Joon-ho’s voice barking through. “Open it, Soo-jin, or we come in shooting!”Soo-jin’s face paled, her eyes flicking to her mother. Hye-jin stood, her bloodied arm trembling but her voice steady. “I’ll hold them off,” she said. “Get the evidence out.”“No,” Soo-jin said, grabbing her. “I just got you back. I’m not losing you again.”Min-jae’s heart pounded, the lock on Namsan’s fence—their promise to return—flashing in his mind. He scanned the office, spotting a fire escape through a window. “Seo-yeon, how long?” he asked.“Five minutes,” she said, her eyes fixed on the screen. “But they’ll break through before then.”Min-soo struggled to his feet, his face grim. “I’ll help Hye-jin,” he said. “Go, Soo-jin. Finish this.”Before Soo-jin could protest, the door splintered, Joon-ho and Soo-kyung storming in, their guns raised. Min-jae shoved Soo-jin toward the fire escape, Seo-yeon grabbing her laptop as Hye-jin and Min-soo blocked the way. “Go!” Hye-jin shouted, her voice fierce.Min-jae and Soo-jin scrambled out the window, the fire escape creaking under their weight. Seo-yeon followed, the laptop clutched tight, the upload still running via a mobile hotspot. Gunshots echoed inside, Hye-jin’s scream cutting through, and Soo-jin froze, tears streaming down her face.“We can’t stop,” Min-jae said, pulling her down the ladder. “They’re buying us time.”They hit the alley, Busan’s neon lights flickering, the helicopter’s roar circling back. Seo-yeon led them to a side street, where a motorcycle waited, its keys in the ignition. “My backup,” she said, straddling it. “Get on.”Min-jae and Soo-jin climbed on, the laptop wedged between them, the upload bar at 80%. The motorcycle roared to life, weaving through Busan’s streets, past seafood stalls and K-pop billboards, the helicopter’s light chasing them. Soo-jin’s arms wrapped around Min-jae, her breath warm against his neck. “We’re so close,” she whispered, her voice fierce.The upload completed as they neared the radio station Hye-jin had mentioned, its antenna glinting in the dawn. But the helicopter landed ahead, blocking the street, and Choi Dong-hyun stepped out, his tailored suit pristine, his face a mask of cold fury. Beside him was a figure Min-jae hadn’t expected—Ji-hoon, alive but bloodied, his hands bound, his eyes pleading.“Soo-jin,” Choi Dong-hyun said, his voice smooth but deadly. “You’ve made your point. Give me the evidence, and your friend lives. Refuse, and Busan burns.”