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If one were to take a handful of hot peppers, chew them to numb their tongue, and then pronounce “Mont-Saint-Martin” as if they were making the sound only through their nose, it would still sound the same.
Kang Chan woke up in a hotel in Mont-Saint-Martin, which was on the border of France and Luxembourg. He then went to a restaurant with Gérard.
He had slept well. The uneasiness still hadn’t subsided, but Gérard had refreshingly twisted Xairo’s neck, and they had collected a white-headed carp the day before.
Kang Chan had taken a bullet near his heart to shake the damned hypnosis out of him.
The pitiful look in Gérard’s eyes from his youth was gone, and Kang Chan had spoken to Kang Dae-Kyung on the phone yesterday, so he was in a good mood.
However, after sitting down at the restaurant, he narrowed his eyes and looked around.
Damn it!
He didn’t want to eat in his room, which was why they were here, but perhaps that was a mistake.
The hotel they were staying at wasn’t grand, but it was still mid-range. Nevertheless, only Kang Chan and Gérard were seated in the restaurant likely because the DGSE had blocked off the entire establishment.
Moreover, even though there were only two of them, at least ten people were standing around them.
Kang Chan hated uncomfortable things. How could he eat in peace in front of a dozen French agents? He had a natural dislike of such things, which was why he had gotten into the habit of eating with the agents in the first place.
Kang Chan turned around and looked at the agent closest to him.
The tall, pointy-nosed, stereotypical Frenchman with sunglasses approached...
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