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No one spoke during dinner. All they could hear was the occasional clatter of forks, knives, and chopsticks.
We just had to eat pork cutlets at a time like this.
Kang Chan sliced the meat first out of habit, alternating between eating the pork and rice with chopsticks.
While Kang Chan was putting the two remaining pieces in his mouth, Seok Kang-Ho quietly asked, “Do you know who Ji-Hwan was dealing with?”
“They probably don’t know for sure yet.”
“Captain, could you look into those motherfuckers?”
Kang Chan chewed his pork and sighed.
Although everyone was pretending to be focused on eating, their eyes and ears were on Kang Chan.
“Daye.”
“Yes.”
Seok Kang-Ho put down his chopsticks and looked at Kang Chan.
“I’m also upset, but if we go around avenging the deaths of those killed in legitimate operations or battles, we’ll be no better than a gang. We can’t use the special forces team for something like this, especially when they weren’t killed unjustly and they were trying to secure an informant.”
Seok Kang-Ho looked at his leftover pork cutlets with a stiff expression.
The fact that he didn’t finish his meal said a lot about how he was feeling at the moment.
Kang Chan recalled the battle in Africa where they lost a rookie. If Daye hadn’t stopped him then, he would’ve killed the guy acting sarcastic for sure.
Seok Kang-Ho probably felt so frustrated that he couldn’t breathe. He likely wanted to destroy the organization that killed Um Ji-Hwan, too.
“Fuck!”
The interpreter, who was whispering his interpretations to Gérard, looked at the pork cutlets...
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