IC C14

Chapter 14

“Well, I can’t say for certain. It’s not the sort of thing you can claim lightly.”

Lei Jun raised both hands, feigning innocence even though he had already explained plenty.

“I just hope your curiosity’s eased a little. Not sure if I was any real help.”

“…”

“I’ll step out for a while. Rest up, Wei.”

He rose and slipped soundlessly out of the bedroom. Siwon didn’t even glance after him. He was too deep in thought.

Pieces that had long felt suspicious began to click together one by one. He had thought he was more worldly than most, yet the fact that money laundering hadn’t even crossed his mind struck him as laughable. No wonder Lei Jun had called him naïve. Muttering to himself, bitterness rising, Siwon said,

“But it’s not even like I have the kind of money to launder.”

The rich, always worse. The audacity of the wealthy was astounding. Who first thought of abusing casino chips to dodge taxes?

It now made sense why they’d insist on breaking large sums into only small chips. High‑denomination chips couldn’t be carried out of the casino, and their embedded RFID made them much easier to track. The smaller the denomination, the lower the risk.

One puzzle piece slid into place, and the rest followed naturally. Didn’t it make perfect sense? If one had ill intent, there were countless ways to use chips beyond tax evasion—untraceable payments, under‑the‑table wages for employees who couldn’t legally be hired.

In short, casino chips were currency for the underworld.

“…Insane…”

Siwon dug both hands into his hair, tugging roughly. Was this all just wild conjecture? Maybe not. Flawed, perhaps, but hardly absurd.

A strange rush welled inside him—relief at piecing answers together tangled with disbelief, frustration, and guilt at having played his part, however unwillingly, in Baeksa‑pa’s schemes.

At the same time, he wondered: was guilt really his alone to bear? The true culprits were the ones exploiting the casino’s chip system for shady ends. He was just a cog. Let the rich bastards get taken down—why should it matter? Of course, Baeksa‑pa’s motives were hardly altruistic.

Then what was the point?

Why demand reports from him or Jushang? For blackmail leverage against the wealthy?

He’d thought he had finally completed the puzzle, only to realize it had only been one section. His own piece was so small that the rest of the picture remained a blur. The frustration pressed against his chest, suffocating.

Like walking blindfolded through a maze of obstacles. He needed to know his role, at least, so he could guard himself. But he didn’t.

“…”

Siwon bit his lip as if resolving himself and pulled out the phone Baeksa‑pa had given him. Suspicion gnawed—what if it was laced with spyware? But he had no choice. His own phone had been confiscated. There was no other device with internet access. Even if this one was monitored, surely they wouldn’t waste effort scrutinizing a low‑level spy’s search history.

He opened the browser and typed into the search bar: Sovereign casino illegal, Sovereign casino tax evasion.

The top results were legal articles: overseas gambling is prosecutable under Korean law. Warnings about the dangers of gambling filled the page. All good and well, but not what he was after.

“…Useless.”

He tried again in Chinese. The same. Of course—information like that would never be left floating on a public search engine. He typed again, this time in English. Finally, one headline caught his eye:

[Sovereign CEO Avoids Indictment in Tax Scandal]

Sovereign CEO narrowly escaped criminal indictment in a massive tax scandal that nearly risked the collapse of the resort group.

Investigators had found evidence that Sovereign concealed revenue from its high‑roller junket operations. Considering the scale of the hidden income, the potential shock to the entire conglomerate was immense.

Prosecutors reportedly considered indicting the CEO directly, but global law firm M&W took charge of Sovereign’s defense, arguing procedural errors and contesting the admissibility of key evidence. The case ended with fines and administrative penalties only.

Checking the date, Siwon saw it was twenty‑six years old. Sovereign had been embroiled in scandal back then too, it seemed. Not surprising. A giant international corporation that big being entirely clean would’ve been the true shock.

He closed the article and searched again. Nothing. No trace of anything linking chips to money laundering or tax evasion.

“…Damn.”

Throwing the phone aside, he gulped down in one go the tea Lei Jun had poured earlier, now cooled and thin on his tongue.

Outside the dorm, under the glow of a streetlamp, Lei Jun checked his own phone. A missed call icon blinked—the call had come while he’d been talking with Xie Wei a moment ago. He returned it.

The line clicked immediately.

―Master, is this a good time?

Spoken in English. Lei Jun replied in kind.

“Go ahead.”

―May I ask where you are right now?

“In front of the dorm. Why?”

―That place…

The voice faltered, heavy with worry. Lei Jun smirked, lightly teasing the caller, Gemma—half a world away.

“Where else did you think I’d be? Home in bed? Do I look like a docile dog that always trots back on time?”

―That’s not what I meant…

“Better out here than surrounded by people in the casino. Anyway, get to the point. Not a soul is walking by. Perfect time to talk.”

The street at 10 p.m. was eerily quiet, spotless, like a film set. Only a stray stone by the curb marred the perfection. Lei Jun nudged it idly with the toe of his shoe.

―Did the police questioning go well?

“Of course.”

―The Madam has been concerned. It would have been better if you had contacted her first.

At that, Lei Jun laughed aloud.

“Concern? My mother? You’ve worked beside her for fifteen years and still say that?”

―…

“If she were the type to worry, none of this would ever have happened.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he scanned the surroundings—the CCTV by the entrance, the dashcam in a parked car, who knew what other hidden devices? Best not to say more.

But in truth, he knew: Mother must have arranged Zhang’s death.

Obtaining modified substances undetectable by blood test was as easy for Madam Li, head of M&W, as choosing a bottle of wine for dinner. Administering it precisely was trickier—but with her own son at the table as the dealer, even that obstacle fell away.

It was ironic that a woman lauded worldwide as a lawyer had written the order. But then, Lei Jun had never considered the legal profession “honest.”

―Even so, she is worried about you, Master.

“Mm.”

Perhaps. But even if genuine, her “worry” was never like ordinary people’s. Not that Lei Jun cared much either way.

“At the very least, isn’t my presence in Sovereign useful to her?”

―That…

“Go on, Gemma. You’ve been holding back all this time. Spit it out.”

Her voice wavered.

―Wouldn’t it be time to return? You’ve been in Macau for half a year now. Surely that’s long enough to grasp the atmosphere within Sovereign.

“I believe there’s no better way to understand the currents than to dive into them yourself.”

―But we can dispatch informants from here. You don’t need to endanger yourself.

“Now that would hurt my feelings. Didn’t you once say you owed me your life?”

His tone turned jovial, but Gemma’s worry did not ease.

―I say this out of true concern. CEO Li and Li Hou are waiting for an opening.

She was right. Not only right—hers was the voice of reason.

Forging a false identity and infiltrating as a dealer was hardly efficient. As a rookie staffer he had little access to useful information. Whatever scraps he had gathered were pried out by mingling with other employees. For some time now, in fact, boredom had been gnawing at him.

But still—

“…Just a little longer. I’ve found something interesting.”