We leave the gym behind and ride the elevator to the third floor, where my office is located. The rest of the Claw Lounge is also quiet at this hour, most of the men either out on assignments or sleeping off the previous night’s indulgences. Only some of our attendants are around, tidying up in preparation for business hours.
“There’s an old captain from the Bulgeomhoe who has a known vendetta against you,” Min-gyu says as we stand shoulder to shoulder in the elevator. “Goh Seung-ho. You battled him years ago, when you were still a young captain yourself.”
The name stirs my memory. A slender man with bad teeth and cruel eyes and a reputation for brutality.
I remember the fight—the crunch of bone that met myfists and how he screamed when I shattered his jaw and broke his already rotting teeth beyond repair.
“I remember,” I say. “I left him disfigured. What of him?”
“He was rumored to be present at the boxing match in Yeongdo-gu. Despite his... uh,condition, he was highly regarded in his day. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to recruit men willing to work for him.”
I consider this as we leave the elevator and reach my office door. “Why would he seek revenge now? It’s been years.”
“I’m not sure,” Min-gyu admits. “But there’s speculation. As I’m sure you remember, Baekho-je, he used to be called Black Tooth—for his bad teeth, even before you broke them. It’s possible he might be calling himself Black Shell now. A new identity to go with his old vendetta.”
Black Tooth. Black Shell.
It’s flimsy. A stretch at best.
But it’s also the only lead we have.
“We’ll explore it,” I say, pushing open the office door. “I want to know everything about Goh Seung-ho’s movements over the past?—”
I stop short.
Lieutenant Nam Joo-wan is lounging in one of the leather chairs across from my desk, a glass of clear liquid in his hand. He looks up as we enter, a lazy smile spreading across his face.
“Jin-tae,” he greets me, raising the glass. “Care for a drink? Min-gyu?”
Min-gyu shakes his head respectfully. I stare at Joo-wan, my jaw tight.
“Soju from my minibar,” I say flatly. “Not yours. Yet you help yourself and offer it as though it belongs to you.”
Joo-wan’s smile falters. He sets the glass down quickly, rising from the chair with sudden deference. “My apologies, Jin-tae. I meant no disrespect. I was only waiting to deliver a message and thought?—”
“What message?” I snap in interruption.
“The boxing commissioner reached out. He’s concerned about the shootout and the attention it’s drawing. The police are involved now, asking questions. He wants to arrange a dinner to discuss how best to mitigate these kinds of situations in the future.”
I move past him to my desk, dropping into the chair and fixing him with a cold stare. “Tell the commissioner to call me directly. I don’t need intermediaries.”
Joo-wan blinks, clearly stung by the dismissal, but he recovers quickly. “Of course. I’ll relay the message.”
He lingers for a moment, as if hoping I’ll say something else. When I remain icy and silent, he finally takes the hint and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Min-gyu watches him go, his expression neutral.
“Keep an eye on him,” I say. “He’s a lieutenant and you’re only a hubae. But think of it as you being my eyes. Tell me what you see.”
Min-gyu promptly nods, giving a half-bow. “Yes, Baekho-je. I’ll keep you updated.”
After he leaves, I sit alone in the silence of my office, turning the name over in my mind.
Goh Seung-howasknown as Black Tooth.
Now someone named Black Shell is threatening me.
It’s possible they’re the same man. Goh Seung-ho certainly has reason to want me dead. I took everything from him—his reputation, his position, his face, however ugly it was.
