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The wind came up from below and whipped around the summit. It then scattered dirt on the men eating rice balls before suddenly vanishing as if it had run away from the weapons.
The enemies were most likely aware that Kang Chan and his men had already begun their infiltration. Nevertheless, Nam Il-Gyu and Yang Dong-Sik now stood among them, scouting and gathering intel.
Kang Chan kept watching the enemy lines while Kang Chul-Gyu and the rest of the DMZ team nonchalantly ate rice balls.
Just as they were about to finish their meals, their radios crackled.
Chk.
“This is Nam Il-Gyu. Heading up now.”
Rustle, rustle.
After about five minutes, two men emerged from halfway up the mountain.
“Good work,” Kang Chan greeted.
“It’s good to see you again, Assistant Director.”
The two men uncharacteristically smiled, their eyes curving like crescent moons.
“Go ahead and eat first. Give us your report after,” Kang Chul-Gyu ordered.
“Understood.”
The two men lunged for the rice balls as if it were the most important command in the world.
The soldiers of the 606 had barely poured water into the misugaru when the two men turned back around and wiped their mouths with the back of their hands. Their mouths were still full of rice balls.
“Please have some, sir,” one of the 606 offered.
“Hm? You boys are so kind!”
“Thanks. This looks delicious.”
The two men sounded muffled. Right now, they probably would’ve drank anything given to them—even if it was rice cakes or kimchi.
Kang Chan didn’t feel it when he was drinking the misugaru himself, but watching the two men drink it made him feel like he was choking.
It didn’t even take...
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