Chapter 19 : Overdose (1) (Part-2)

Thinking about what happened to Manager Jeong, maybe he could have survived even a grenade blast.

He’d probably be full of shrapnel, but alive.

“God… that was horrible. Never again.”

It was a feeling he never wanted to experience again.

Whether he hadn’t turned into a monster by sheer luck, or because of the tranquilizer—there was no way to know.

What if he took it again and did turn into a mindless beast next time?

Never again.

Never, Cheol-woo kept repeating to himself—until his phone rang.

What just happened?! I heard gunshots coming from your direction!

“It’s nothing. I handled it.”

He answered calmly to Yuri’s rapid-fire question.

No need to mention he was high on something.

If he told her he’d taken some mystery drug with a chance of turning into a monster, she’d completely lose it.

“Too much to explain. Just get the truck and head to the main road. Not the hotel. Pretty sure it’s been compromised.”

O-Okay.

“And call the president of Dongyang Department Store. Tell him to call me back. It’s urgent.”

Got it.

Since he said it was urgent, Yuri didn’t argue.

She’d learned by now that in high-pressure situations, it was always better to follow Cheol-woo’s orders than to hesitate with questions.

As soon as he hung up, Cheol-woo dragged his suitcase and merged into the crowd.

Being near a major hotel and train station, dragging a suitcase didn’t draw much attention.

The only issue was the blood splattered all over the shield—it had left stains here and there.

He bought a random shirt from a street vendor and was changing into it when a call came in from an unknown number.

Is this Min Cheol-woo?

“Yes. That’s me. Has Yoo Manager arrived? Are he and President Han Si-yeon both safe?”

Yes… thanks to you.

But what *did* you do? Yoo Manager left in a real hurry.

Once they heard Jeong was dead and Cheol-woo had shown up, it would’ve been impossible not to flee.

With their manpower already stretched thin, they probably had no choice but to pull everyone off the department store and chase him instead.

But oddly enough, the pursuing team hadn’t been Team 1—it was Team 2.

Cheol-woo had assumed Director Park had already been shaken off, so how?

There was one possibility he hadn’t ruled out.

He’d changed every piece of clothing he was wearing—

So if there was a tracker, it had to be inside his body.

He’d already considered that, but had no idea how they could’ve gotten something in.

If it was in food, it should’ve been digested and passed out by now.

“I was overthinking it.”

The answer was simpler than that.

If it was inside his body, it had to have been during surgery at the company hospital.

The surgeon must have implanted a tracker and stitched him back up.

Even though he’d been conscious the whole time, with a mouthpiece in and the nurse pinning him down, he hadn’t been able to see what was happening below.

That bastard doctor—I knew he was shady.

Cheol-woo cursed internally.

“I just stirred up a little heat.”

“Stirred up—what now?”

“Forget it. I need an abdominal surgery. Just reopening a previous operation site to remove a foreign object—not some major procedure. Shouldn’t need any high-end equipment.”

H-How are we supposed to arrange that on the fly?

“Doesn’t the Oriental Group have any affiliated hospitals?”

Getting a Chinese department store set up in Korea was already a miracle.

A hospital? That’s practically impossible.

They haven’t even *tried* establishing one.

“What about your primary care physician?”

People don’t usually choose a *surgeon* as their primary care doctor…

“So there’s no way to get the surgery done?”

Cheol-woo squeezed his eyes shut.

It’s not like he could just walk into a private hospital and ask them to take out the tracker in his gut.

Well, technically he could, but that’d basically be turning himself in to the cops.

“Is it completely impossible?”

[There’s no one on the department store staff who can perform surgery… I’ll try checking with Han Si-yeon’s people at the Incheon port.]

“Will that take time?”

[Yeah… I don’t know if I can find someone today. And don’t get your hopes up. There aren’t many of her people left who’d still follow her orders. The odds of one of them being a surgeon are… well, not great.]

“Alright. Let me know if you find someone.”

Cheol-woo muttered under his breath as he hung up.

He’d been about to give those bastards a chance to pay off their debts, but fat chance of that now.

He was still being tracked in real time—he needed to get that thing out fast.

But was there really no way?

“Mmph! Mm-mmph! MMMMPH!!”

“Ugh. Shut up.”

His head was pounding, and the moaning from inside the suitcase was getting louder.

Up until now, she’d seemed to have decent judgment, so what was this all of a sudden?

It didn’t sound like she was just screaming to be let out—it was more like she was trying to say something important.

• Flashlight
• Sterile gauze. Lots. Minimum 10 boxes.
• Gauze bandages. Lots.
• Rubbing alcohol
• Scissors (20cm+)
• Forceps
• Stainless chopsticks
• Mouthpiece
• Buy everything and bring it to this address
• Also bring the medikit loaded on the truck

“What the hell is this now?”

Grumbling, Yuri still rushed to buy everything on the list from a nearby general store and loaded it into the truck.

The address turned out to be… a public restroom.

Ah, f*—** Yuri’s head burned.

This jerk.

Said he was fine, and now he’s been shot again?

If he’s been shot, he should’ve just said so.

What the hell is there to hide?

It’s not like I eat people for getting injured.

Her irritation rising, Yuri figured if he was asking for stuff like this, things must be really bad.

She hurriedly drove the truck.

“Hey! I’m here!”

“Excuse meee.”

“…?”

Yuri rushed in with the supplies and entered the public restroom.

She expected to find Cheol-woo lying in a pool of blood, sweating cold bullets…

Wait, what? He looked fine.

Yuri’s face went blank.

A short woman she didn’t recognize came running up and snatched the medikit from her.

“You got a strong stomach? Can you handle seeing blood?”

“Wh-why?”

The short woman opened the kit, drew up a syringe full of morphine, and started jabbing it into Cheol-woo’s abdomen—even though he looked totally fine.

One shot.

Two shots.

Three…

She drew a circle of injection marks around the stitched area, stabbing him a dozen times or more.

By the time the large morphine bottle clinked empty, Cheol-woo was perched on the sink.

“A quack doctor stuck a tracker inside me. It’s pretty deep, and a small EMP won’t disable it. So I’m gonna reopen the stitches and pull the tracker out.”

“You’ll need to jam a chopstick into the inner opening and pry it apart. No surgical clamp, so this is the best we’ve got.”

“Wait… what?”

Cheol-woo casually finished the explanation and bit down on a mouthpiece.

The short woman next to him was already masked and gloved like it was no big deal.

Everything about this was deadly serious—not even remotely a joke.

Yuri just wanted to faint right then and there.

Let me know if you’d like help refining this into a polished prose version!

“Wait… what?”

Cheol-woo casually finished the explanation and bit down on a mouthpiece.

The short woman next to him was already masked and gloved like it was no big deal.

Everything about this was deadly serious—not even remotely a joke.

Yuri just wanted to faint right then and there.