You Have Been Defended [EN]: Chapter 409

#410

I quickly scanned my surroundings, trying to make sense of everything.

I was on a fishing boat.

I could hear the distinct sound of cement mixing nearby, and I counted about five people.

Surprisingly, the situation mirrored my previous life, but thankfully, I wasn’t inside the drum yet.

My arms and legs were tightly bound. The drum that was meant to be my concrete coffin stood ominously beside me.

“You’re good at keeping a straight face. A real poker face,” the man sitting across from me chuckled.

I wasn’t trying to look calm.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was desperately trying to stay calm to avoid another seizure.

I focused on regulating my breathing and distracting myself with other thoughts to push back the rising fear.

The more I focused on my surroundings, the more the hazy feeling faded, and I began to accept the horrifying reality. The humid air against my skin, the boat rocking on the waves, the intense gazes fixed on me, and the men holding crowbars and nail-studded baseball bats, ready to inflict pain at any moment.

“……”

Thump, thump.

Then, the bodily reaction I dreaded began to surface.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

“Haa, haa……”

My breathing grew rapid and shallow, and my vision started to blur.

I can’t let it happen here.

Not now.

I squeezed my eyes shut and started counting.

It was absurd that the last thing I might do before I died was count, but I knew if I had a seizure here, they would throw me in the drum without hesitation.

“Heeuuk, haa……”

Damn it, I didn’t expect them to move this fast.

If I had known, I wouldn’t have sent Tae-sik away.

I clenched and unclenched my tingling hands, forcing myself to breathe deeply.

Stay calm.

It’s not the first time I’ve faced this.

Having a seizure, being in a life-threatening situation.

“Haa, haa, haa……”

But those rational thoughts were quickly overwhelmed by the physical reaction.

I was so out of breath I felt like I was suffocating.

Thump, thump, thump.

My heart raced so violently I thought it would give out.

I was afraid I’d die from a seizure before they even had the chance to drown me in cement.

I tried focusing my gaze on a single point, as Kang Byeon [likely a mentor or friend] had taught me, but the boat was rocking too much for it to work.

I felt like I was losing my mind before I even died, and as I desperately tried to regain control, my body betrayed me.

“Ugh, uh……”

I lost my balance and fell to my side.

If my hands and feet were free, I would have grabbed something to hold on to, but I was completely helpless, bound as I was.

“What, this bastard.”

“Maybe it’s a side effect of the drug they injected?”

Their voices were amplified, echoing loudly in my ears.

Ironically, I almost wished it would all end quickly.

“Hey, are you crazy?” The man kicked me as I lay on my side, gasping for air.

“Playing tricks won’t change anything. You’re going to die here anyway.”

The man stepped on my neck, grinding his heel into it.

“Kkeuek!”

“Looks like this bastard still hasn’t learned his lesson.”

The man gestured, and the men around him grabbed my collar and hauled me to my feet.

Then they began to slap me across the face, hard.

The violence continued, escalating with each blow.

My lip split and bled, and a kick to my stomach made my breathing even more erratic.

A crowbar slammed into my back, and a nail-studded baseball bat connected with my thigh.

Damn it, it hurt like hell.

Enough to momentarily shock me out of the seizure.

The thought that I might die if I took much more of this, that it might be less painful to be beaten to death than to be entombed in cement, flickered through my mind.

The feeling of cement seeping into every pore of my body was the most terrifying pain imaginable.

“This, bastard, is, crazy!” The men cursed as they stomped on me, sprawled on the floor, and I was beaten without being able to resist, my body completely restrained.

I couldn’t even fight back; it had been a long time since I’d felt this utterly helpless.

I had lived believing that the pen was mightier than the sword, but after experiencing this helplessness, I was starting to think that fists were closer to the truth than the law.

“Damn it, they said they’d let you live if you knelt down and apologized to the chairman, but why are you being so stubborn?”

“That’s why he was running wild, not knowing his place.”

“Is the cement ready?”

“Yes.”

“Just dunk him.”

Dunk me?

To die in the cement, just like in my previous life, like that?

If I die like this.

What will happen to Kang Min-jae, Choi Jong-hyun, Jo Bong-joon, and Manager Oh?

My parents, whom I had barely met again and saved after crossing a life [referring to reincarnation or time travel]?

No.

I have to live.

Somehow, I have to live.

I have to live to protect my colleagues and take down Go Sang-joon with my own hands.

But how?

“Lay the drum down.”

Following the man’s instructions, the men laid the drum on its side.

It seemed they intended to stuff me inside.

They lifted me, who had fallen back to the floor.

And at that same moment.

“Ugh!”

I slammed my head hard into the head of the man holding me and, taking advantage of the confusion, threw my body against the edge of the boat.

“This bastard!”

Desperate to fall into the water, I twisted my body towards the sea and kicked off the deck with both feet.

“Augh!”

At that moment, a searing pain ripped through my abdomen.

In the fleeting moment of falling from the boat, I saw a knife in the man’s hand.

He had stabbed me as I fell, ensuring my death.

I couldn’t swim with my body tied up, and even if I tried to struggle, the agonizing pain in my abdomen made it impossible to move.

I sank into the sea, helpless.

Gradually, down, I sank like that.

* * *

“Chairman, you called for me.”

Go Sang-joon stood with his hands clasped behind his back, facing the expansive window.

The secretary bowed to Go Sang-joon, who didn’t turn around or acknowledge him.

He was the new secretary, appointed after Cha Joo-han had his long-time secretary sent to prison.

Compared to his predecessor, he was still lacking, but he was proving useful.

Go Sang-joon asked without turning around, “Cha Joo-han, that bastard…”

“The intrusion into his house went smoothly. They injected the drug into Cha Joo-han’s neck while he was asleep, still in his clothes, and brought him out without incident.”

“Is everything proceeding without any mistakes?”

“Yes, it is.”

The secretary carefully showed Go Sang-joon the photos that had been sent to his phone.

The photos showed Cha Joo-han’s neck with the injection mark, Cha Joo-han tied up and being moved towards the sea, being put on a boat and taken out to sea, and finally, photos of the drum and cement being prepared with Cha Joo-han collapsed nearby.

After reviewing the photos, Go Sang-joon handed the phone back to the secretary and cleared his throat.

“You know you can’t fail this time.”

“Of course, Chairman.”

“He hasn’t said he’ll give up everything?”

“No. It seems not, as there has been no contact yet.”

Go Sang-joon had instructed his men to offer Cha Joo-han a chance to live if he knelt and begged for forgiveness.

But Go Sang-joon had no intention of letting Cha Joo-han live, not after everything that had happened.

If he spared him now, he was certain Cha Joo-han would break any promise and use the opportunity to plot against him.

Cha Joo-han was no ordinary adversary.

So, even if his death raised questions, even if rumors spread that Wooshin [likely a powerful corporation or organization] was responsible, it was best to eliminate him now.

Nevertheless, the reason he had offered him a chance to beg for forgiveness was that he wanted to see Cha Joo-han humbled, kneeling before him.

He hated Cha Joo-han’s arrogant demeanor, the way he always held his head high as if he were superior, and he resented how he was increasingly cornering Wooshin, despite being just a lawyer with limited experience.

He, who could kill people as easily as swatting insects, had extended this much grace.

Cha Joo-han’s death was a consequence of his own foolishness in ignoring the numerous warnings he had been given.

“There must be no mistakes.”

“I understand perfectly, Chairman. I have warned them sternly as well.”

The moment a mistake occurred, all the blame would fall on Wooshin.

No, to be precise, it didn’t matter if Wooshin was blamed.

But the thought of how Cha Joo-han would exploit the situation to humiliate or corner Wooshin infuriated him.

“I shouldn’t have to see that bastard Cha Joo-han’s face while I’m alive.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“You can go now.”

As the secretary left the room, Go Sang-joon placed a cigar in his mouth and lit it.

The acrid smoke swirled around him as he stood by the window, looking down at the city below.

Wooshin had essentially created the Republic of Korea.

Wooshin had elevated the Republic of Korea from a backward nation, creating countless jobs, rescuing people from idleness, and raising the GDP to a world-class level.

Cha Joo-han was an insignificant insect who didn’t appreciate such benevolence.

There was no way he could be swayed by such a man.

“You must die.”

As he stubbed the cigar out in the ashtray, a fly landed beside it.

Go Sang-joon reached out and crushed the fly with his thumb.

The fly, which died silently, was wiped away with a handkerchief from Go Sang-joon’s back pocket.

Go Sang-joon tossed the handkerchief into the trash and picked up the cigar again.

Cha Joo-han was just like that fly.

He was simply eliminating it because it was annoying.